Run Details

Pondweed's 902nd hash!!! Bring a cup for sip stop.

#2479 Green Man, Ringmer – A plethora of reports!

RUNNERS: It seemed a brave move to announce the sip location as his opening gambit but Fukarwe had a cunning plan, and led the charge in the opposite direction east on the Lewes Road to #1, which was quickly called down the Lane. A confident right at Potato Lane led us to the track up for a photo stop by the old mill and new turbine, this area being notably windy. A steep descent took us straight back into the village where thoughts of an early return were quickly quashed as we headed round the new estate and north out through the maize. It could only be right at Norlington Lane, but where were the arrers? Overnight rain had washed trail but it was eventually located as we again hit the fields on to the sip via a brief flirt with Broyle Side, Mudlark deciding that the called for regroup was for losers! Refreshments were hidden in Shirker & Tripsy’s car, safely locked away from SCB’s to prevent glugging of the lagers and crisps before pack arrived, although Caught Short questioned the late sip when the pub was just a couple of hundred yards away with real beer! Bouncer

SPRINT WALKERS: The walkers set off in 2 groups: one, including Summer Lady and walking wounded Local Knowledge, opted for a shorter walk the faster to return for refreshments; the other set off for a 5Km hike at a cracking pace, ably led by Tripsy Daisy. Striding along keeping up a lively conversation were TripsyDaisy, Trouble and Madame Satanne. Sangria kept being distracted by nature's bounty (blackberries, sloes and elderberries) and frequently broke into a trot to catch up, while Cliffbanger was bringing up the rear. Joyful cries of "on on!" were uttered at the sight of tastefully knotted twists of loo-roll in the hedges. The walkers huddled together for safety however at the sight of a charging group of curious young Jersey cows (bullocks?) in an attempt to look big and threatening. The animals were not taken in by our ruse but fortunately had working brakes. Having circumnavigated the big, scary softies, the herd followed closely behind the walkers all the way to the stile. No one was left behind stampeded. The pace subsequently flagged a little for the challenge of the ascent to the wind turbine, which could barely be heard above the panting walkers. Stragglers caught up as we regrouped at the top by a large, broken post. Allegedly the site of a windmill. Or gibbet. It was downhill thereafter into the sunset and to the sip stop. Another close shave as a couple of cars screecheed out of the car park without regard for pedestrians. Tripsy Daisy uttered curses as she observed the dust on her car from her neighbour's interminable building works. The boot's contents were not dusty and were very welcome. Thank you Pondweed. After half a cup of shandy, the final yards to the pub were a blur. Sangria

KNITTING CIRCLE: We (On On Don, Pompette, and Summer Lady) set out from the Green Man in the opposite direction from the Runners and Other Walkers, as we had Local Knowledge with us, who wasn’t keen on going too far. Finding the gap in the hedge where the footpath usually went was closed off due to the gigantic fenced off building site, we went on, and found the alternative path. This led through a new group of houses, which had no indication of where the path might go …. But LK had a clue, and there was a gap diving off from a driveway. Crossing the first field was like going across the Savannah – burnt brown thin grass stems, hard ground, but the hedge ahead was fairly green! Across the next field, much the same, but the grass was chewed down to the ground, a sign of desperate livestock? They must have been taken back to the yard, as there was nothing for them to eat in the field. Crossing a dry stream, we set out into greenery! This was maize, doing pretty well, though the ground was bone-dry. Maybe this pant is a survivor? Nice to walk through, anyway … and then we hit the road. LK asked if we were going into the next gateway and back to the pub … not yet, we discovered. After a bit of a road walk, we turned off at Little Norlington Farm, and crossed a couple of fields where there was plenty of horsey evidence on the ground, but no horses. SL would not have liked them to be there anyway! She was very thoughtful about LK throughout our walk, helping guide him through gates and stiles, which he appreciated. After a short trek down the Broyle Side road, with its motley collection of houses and bungalows, we turned into the fields once more. “Are we nearly there yet?” from LK again … but there was quite a way to go still. This turned out to eventually lead into that fenced off building site – and what a sight it was! The earth had all been scraped back to almost bare, the path was an alternative, marked by the developers in quite a casual manner, and the ground was so dry that enormous cracks had opened up in the clay soil, some large enough to get your hand down quite a way. With some relief, we got onto the road back to the pub, where ale and enormous servings of food were enjoyed! On On Don

IN THE PUB, substantial portions were the order of the orders, to such a degree that chips and salad was being bandied about freely, while others took doggy bags for their breakfast. Circling up, hares were called from… 20th July! This was JAWS and Sangria’s first visit since their kayak club hash, when they set trail but were unable to attend, but RA’s have long memories and so they downed to 20 toes. Tonight’s hare was congratulated on a fine hash with plenty of fishhooks and some marvellous views of the sun going down, but this being near enough Fukarwe’s arbitrary 900th, RA concluded that he was making a mission statement to be next on the giant hall of fame hip flask. But at just one hash behind Prince Crashpian, who has historically appeared far more regularly, and with Angel on a charge to be the first harriette, he can’t afford to let his guard down, and there looks to be some hot competition to relieve current holder, Anybody (although he will still be keeping it for a while yet). Welcome back’s were extended to Psychlepath (a much appreciated return to the run with Pussy Galore and Angel both glad of his presence in their rear view mirror, while even Oral Hooker was glad to get extra FH’ing under her belt), and Serbian (extremely long full name repeated but still not taken in) Bomber, while Pussy Galore had asked RA if we would be attending the Serbia hash weekend in Belgrade. They’re alright, but…! Your scribe had been first to one FH, stopping at Psychlepath, but on return to the check with our back marker, Hare had asked where the fukarthey going? Mudlark and Shirker had been so busy chinwagging they’d overschlepped past the back markers and were headed back up to the turbine, stoopid boys, the latter receiving the latest incarnation of the Numpty mug for some witty retort.

And so to the admin with the Plough at Pyecombe being announced for next week’s Peter Pansy outing, while an executive decision was made on the bank holiday to gazump Private Dancer’s complicated domestic arrangements with On On Don announcing a pizza fest at the Royal Oak in Barcombe. Another great hash! - Bouncer