Could there have ever been more anticipation for a Monday Night hash, the conclusion of trouser gate, Desperado’s annual first hash, would there be any heather? Dronfield had taken it’s fair share of hares in the past; Captain Morgan, Spiv, surely it would not master our Desperado…
A decent turnout assembled at the White
Swan; a good mix of regulars, 3 newish hashers and 2 dogs. It was a fairly pleasant evening in
comparison with the Siberian conditions we had faced in the week previous.
Shunter had pre-informed us that he would be late and requested especially neat
kicked out checks so he could catch us up, a request to which we duly obliged.
The clock hit 7.47 and 38 seconds and were
off under the bridge towards Dronfield’s own spaghetti junction, a complex crossing which involved reaching the
painted island and checking in 5 directions for oncoming traffic, like a big
game of Frogger.
Fortunately none of us were squished and it
was on on up Callywhite lane. We ducked into the newly refurbished park where
there were some comments of admiration for the clean looking toilet facilities.
From there it was on-round and back to Callywhite lane.
We then took a left up a muddy holly
infested path, led by Monty and his side kick. After a couple of falsies we
came out at a small farm and headed towards coal Aston, at this point there was
some debate as to which lights were Sheffield and which were Chesterfield,
gadgets were brought out, roars of disapproval were heard. All this was forgotten when we came across
the M&S hash treats, thanks Desperado!
We then headed back on to terrain more
familiar i.e. muddy fields. One of the
newer hashes commented on how it was nice to be out with a good group of
runners who knew how to set trails and jokingly asked if we had ever caught the
hare…not often I replied.
At this point my phone began ringing, it
took about 30 rings for me to answer, during which time we demonstrated our
poor long jump skills across a one metre stream. Anyway back to the call…who could it be be??
‘STOP, STOP, STOP!’, cried a panicked
Desperado. There then followed a jumbled
directive; ‘Field of Bulls’ ‘Angry Farmer’ ‘Hold the hashers’ ! Looking around we could see a torch light
heading back towards us. Needless to say
the farmer had offered the choice of continue and be killed (by the bulls) or
turn back.
There followed another long jump
competition over the stream and a scattering of hashers….Enter The Smittie and
his OS app. Gradually all the hashers
gravitated away from Desperado towards our new master. A downtrodden Desperado followed on towards
the next field, which was demarcated by an electric fence….what could go
wrong? As Dan dragged himself on all
fours up the banking, through the mud and under said ‘lecky fence a stray bum
cheek happened to touch the live wire, there followed a shriek.
I’d like to think that the belly laughing
by a few of the hashers was a shock reaction to Dan’s horror but I have my
doubts.
I struggle to remember much after that but
do know we relied on some of our Silver Hashers to guide us home. The pub was nice, a spare box of M&S
treats was produced and the rest was consigned to hash history.
On on, Sticky Shaft
No comments:
Post a Comment