#1107 Miner's Arms, Dronfield Woodhouse

Hare: Desperado

Amazingly, after over 1100 runs, this was a new venue for us and there was plenty of room in the car park (future hares please note). It was a perfect night for hashing, warm with clear skies, as a modest sized pack set off under a rising half moon with Mars low on the southern horizon. We were soon in perfect hash territory, off road and teased by falsies heading off into woodland over an intricate construction of elongated footbridge and stiles before Capt Colon found the true trail heading, inevitably, uphill. By now Saturn was becoming visible below the moon and it was fitting that Comet Skidmarks appeared over the northern horizon for the first time before disappearing in search of lost flour. This was, as the best hashes are, becoming a run of deception through the sunken lanes and hedgerows of these parts, reminiscent of the Normandy Bocage. We were soon hopelessly lost and the pack resorted to milling about and discussing Brexit. For all I know because I was at the bottom of the adjacent field with Captain Colon discussing Red Dress Runs before peering through a hedgerow. Miraculously, there was a blob of flour on another sunken lane, so on on was called without bothering to look for further evidence. That is how I can claim to witness the second sighting of Comet Skidmarks before he disappeared again in cloud of sweat and dust. Much later we came out of this miasma at Barlow Fishponds, a regular feature of hashes many moons ago.

To the relief of all a bag was found containing the latest offerings from the boffins at Bournville (popping candy chocolate seeing as you ask) and we set about scanning the  celestial heavens for direction. By which time the moon was definitely not where it was before. Search and Rescue and Prof were particularly astute in spotting shooting stars although Prof, choosing a horizontal point of observation, was almost trampled after the call of on on.   After a long uphill slog we came to a four way split but before we set off in completely the wrong direction here came Comet Skidmarks from the very same. Did anyone see him at the Hash Rest? Me neither. And so we emerged into the surreal environs of a shopping “centre” and just as Madge was warming to the theme we were back to find Desperado propping the bar and looking like he’d just emerged from a week of wild camping.

On on,

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