#1155 Rain would not stop our parade

Smittie, Hare and Hounds, Barlow

It wasn’t looking good, the Boro had lost at the weekend,  rain of biblical proportions had fallen and continued to fall and only a few had committed. But with the promise of a full bottle of sparkling wine to be chugged, the sun was always going to shine on a Monday night Hash and enthusiastic participants came in their droves from far and wide…or at least S10 & S8. 15 peeps and a hound made the journey to Barlow for potentially the wettest hash since records began.

Such were the numbers that we had staggered starts to avoid overwhelming the Peak District. The advanced party contained the bulk of the runners, followed by Desperado, Shunter and Fast Eddie, and finally Uglyman and Prof.

Tonight was to be an evening of celebration for our Squiggle Queen who had completed an epic work, an odyssey you may call it. This had been duly posted on the hash website, with an equally thrilling sequel written by Monty’s Batman. In other news SQ had also handed in 49,000 words of groundbreaking (there’s a tenuous pun there if you look hard enough) original research, 6 months in advance, hooray!!

…and so to the great wade; we were promised a short one as the watering hole had equally been promised we would be back for 9:15pm or the doors would be shut and with no Packhorse like plan B in site we would have be left gasping. We scaled the ramp of the carpark and found proof that rain washes flour away, amazing to see everyone agree this when just the week previous a hare had been ridiculed for suggesting such a thing…and so back to the wade:

The Muddy Field Section
Genius idea by the hare, take us across 200 yards of muddy field with a 1 foot give on each step, hashers were holding onto their shoes for dear life, he then returned us over the same field on the way home.

The Road to nowhere Section
Up and up and up we went, flour washed away, checks looked kicked out, this all led to a farm which we crossed through under the observation of the owners who seemed to be scoring us on our silence and ability to dim our lights.

The Woods
Two members of the Soggy Bottom family were out this evening, it was unclear who had dragged who out. SB Jnr was sent up a Monsal Tunnel type path cocooned in trees, he had found the trail and we were on on up.

The Waterfall
One slip to the left and a runner would have been but a memory of the hash, ‘nuff said.

The Confused Section
"'Aven’t we been here before?" Asked the group.
"Did we follow the trail wrong?" (Labradoodle reproduced the scene of how he had initially followed the arrow., complete with actions)
"What are they doing back here?" Asked the farmers who had observed us earlier.
"WTF?" Thought Monty
"Sod it!" Said the group who ran back towards HH.
"Yep Sod it!" Said the stragglers.

The Muddy Field Section
Really…again?

The Hare and Hounds Section
...and there in the carpark, shining like a beacon in a light house was Smittie. He confirmed that he had cut it short and also met the staggered starters en route. With 6km under our belts, waterproofs were removed, dry clothes donned and seats were taken in the pub. We were ushered to a section of the pub which did not contain cameras (don’t ask). Hash treats were produced. Wagon Wheels and some jelly-like sweets, which were particularly delicious (think we have had them before) then ‘on on’  to the celebrations.

The cork was popped and genuine French fizz from the Loire valley no less was distributed, Shunter, Desperado, Uglyman., Prof and the previously lost Jon all appeared. The pub was cozy,  ongratulatory toasts were made to SQ (or is it QS? ponders your scribe.)

Monty made himself at home by drying himself on anyone, or anyone’s clothes that were lying around. There were looks of disbelief from anyone who had completed a PhD or indeed observed a loved one completing a PhD after hearing of SQ’s more than timely submission. So with the bottle drained, relative warmth and dryness restored we began to shuffle out of the pub, safe in the knowledge that our Monday nights could be anything but dull, even if the weather said otherwise...

On On,
Sticky Shaft