Run No 810

Sunday, 18th March 2007

The Angel, Toddington

Hare: Dave

HASHERS: 22  VISITORS: 2  RETURNEES: 0  MUTTS: 0

According to the local estate agents, visitors who venture into Toddington itself find themselves transported back in time to a traditional English village where ancient buildings surround a large green and where the village pump still stands and with the Memorial Garden, with it's pond in the shade of the trees, is a cool inviting place to linger on a hot summer day.. ..That was, of course until the Hash came to town.

Even before the ON was called, there was a worrying demonstration of fitness, with 5-Baah running to the start (it's left at Harlington !), John cycling from Dunstable, and Dave, the Hare, walking from the other side of the village. Clashing with the start of the Grand Prix season, White Rabbit showed that she clearly deserves a seat in the Ferrari by demonstrating her precision parking techniques assisted by her pit crew.

With no broken limbs, the circle was called to order by Private Parts. Technically a joint run with SH4, we were joined by 2 guests who were tempted out on a windy Sunday morning. With no hazards to report the hash left with their usual enthusiasm and set off in the direction of Conger Lane. A false trail confused the pack, taking in the sights of the motte and the remains of the ancient earthworks, before the trail continued down the lane and across the fields.

General confusion and milling about reigned and the pack eventually worked their way to the road and back onto farmland, heading towards Chalgrave golf course. Stallion, wearing blinkers, or at least sun glasses, took the lead and blazed ahead until missing a check he reached a T. This left Smiffo to take the lead, heading up the hill alongside the golf course until venturing upon a number check and forcing him to return to the back.

The route continued to meander through Toddington, past the allotments, the fire station, and through the Glebe. It was at this point that the first real shiggy was encountered. The efforts to bridge the large boggy puddle would have been admired by master bridge builder Brunel himself. By now time was ticking away, the pub was open, and there was a little hail in the air. So on reaching the outskirts of the village the pack followed the road back to the pub for a warming pint or coffee.

With no RA or deputy RA present the secret RA was announced as the hooded Count Roadkill. With his all seeing snake eyes and his cobra-like mesmerising stance he had seen all. His underwear fetish resulted in down downs for Flo (knicker watching) and Smiffo for his visible sock line. Lady P was awarded for her 100th, having been cruelly kept in suspense from last week - beware Capt F, she writes everything down !

Next week, the Hash moves up the road to Flitton (right at Harlington, 5-Baah).

ON ON .... Dave