The longest hash rest in our history ended with a spiritually uplifting coincidental gathering of socially distant runners; miles from anyone other than the usual drug runners and hopeless police patrols. All told we could have assembled a football team including two subs, if you include the hare and his two kids, but we only knew that as we finished. There was also a guest in the form of Shunter’s sister Lucy [who cheerfully introduced herself to me as Shunter's brother! - Ed.] who looked considerably fitter than the rest of us, in the absence of Uglyman. ”Eurostar” perhaps?
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| A social distancing masterclass... |
Apart from the venue there was nothing unusual about this hash which, after a brief flirtation with the lakeside, soon had us scampering up Hagg Side to reveal expansive views of usual haunts from entirely new angles. But it soon became clear that it wasn’t only the hounds who were a bit rusty and the hare was leaving a few falsies with no endings. This almost led some to a flirtation with Snake Pass but after a familiar return of the complete ten minute standstill we were off up Rowlee Pastures and the summit. Again the frontrunners were seen scampering off in the general direction of Huddersfield whilst wiser heads admired the sunset and dreamed of whatever substance was left in their car boots. And so it came to pass that we returned whence we had come to find the walking wounded Spiv and the Hare grinning like a Cheshire Cat (as it turned out, because Rotherham United had won promotion and nothing to do with his supreme efforts at setting this inaugural new normal hash). Not forgetting the large, Johnson would not approve, bag of assorted crisps; oh, and the hash diary which, in keeping with some form of continuity, did not turn up.
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| Grim up north |
Top way to restart with a gentle 9.5 k’er .
On, On
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