#1096 The Millstone, Hathersage

25th June 2018
Another superb midsummer hash laid out this time by Monty the dog and his faithful companion Will. Hathersage is a gem at any time but on a beautiful summer evening it is absolute heaven. Will had chosen some super paths through shady woods and across sunny fields where the hay lay cut and glistening. At times it looked as if we would reach the summit of Stanage or perhaps Higger Tor but then another check back would send us spinning down hill again. And above, the sky entranced with its clear blue and salmon and its cotton trails and everyone was in high spirits.
We had been promised a hash swim and everyone was keen to reach the water. “Are we there yet?” was the cry each time we crossed a stream or passed a puddle, and Desperate Dan even suggested a trough in a field might fit the bill. But at last the Mill Pond was in view and in a blink of an eye running tops were cast aside and all was splash and “Jeez, that's cold!”. Fast Eddy was first in but only just. What is it about Sheffield hashers and water? Trunks lived up to his name with a perfectly chosen pair of swimming pants, a sort of cross between a pair of curtains and a Californian beach barbeque. Soggy Bottom went for the frilly knicker look but only by accident, apparently.
Then someone rescued the semi submerged hash treat bag (nice touch, Will) and everyone was out on the bank again, shaking themselves off and devouring the delicious treats. What larks!
Off with us again and downhill towards the village before the midges could do their worst. Next stop Ali Bongo's bean patch where teams of hashers dashed here and there carrying water from the river to drench the thirsty veg. You don't get that in a Saunders Mountain Marathon.
So, happy home to the pub to enjoy a pint as the sun finally set. Anyone for a chorus of Jerusalem?
On on,
Captain Morgan

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