Run 1150

Monday 20 May 2013

The Red Lion, Breachwood Green

Hares: Fat Controller & Kisses Anytime


The Hash politely ignores The Hare's guidance ...

The Hare leads Subby through a hedge forwards

The Hare at last throws Zingalong a bone

As The Blue Prince would like to sing: 'Hello! Hello! It's good to be back! Good to be back!' Kisses Anytime (my faithful, long-suffering, First in Command), and I were warmly welcomed back into the bosom of our wonderful pack, and so we were feeling; good to be back.

The evening was fine and dry as we all assembled at The Red Lion, but true to form, Nik Nak in her little red clapped out sporting chariot turned up as Shuffle Cock was conducting the Circle. And then at 19:35hrs, just as 'On - On' was called, another red and very battered ancient chariot veered into the car park. No, it wasn't our lustreless leader in his posey red hairdresser's sporting chariot – it was that infrequent visitor from the H4 pack down the road, Zingalonga Max, whose demeanour somewhat closely resembles that of his chariot! Someone suggested waiting for him, but Shuffle Cock said; "Oh! Don't worry about him, he did a 'Superstud Rampant 60k Marathon' yesterday and came fourth, so I'm sure he will catch us up." And so we all buggered off to find the trail. I was a bit disappointed, when the cunning deception I had laid was skilfully ignored and On - On! was called down the narrow alleyway just up from the pub, and we were off into roaming in the gloaming.

Across the sheepfield, it was Spotted Dick and Edwina 123 that got fooled by the first falsie, as the FRBs – on trail headed (who said head?) towards the allotments and beyond to pass the equine delights, insults and preening that awaited there. We were now twenty minutes into the run, and Zingalonga Max was nowhere to be seen. The trail out of the Heath estate led the FRBs out towards Tea Green, but did a left through Darley Wood, (where a few got lost) and came out on the road next to The Fox. The Count, recalling Bangers' run from there a while ago asked me if I had any money for the Beer Stop. He was aghast when I told him that I am in serious training to lose two stone, and had stopped drinking. So, the cheeky bar steward asked Kisses Anytime. She gave him short shrift! And so, on towards a place where blokes waste a lot of time and money playing with their balls!

It was here dear reader on the check by a beautiful 18th Century cottage, that Kisses Anytime played her knitting circling hand. "Now, if there's anyone who doesn't want to carry on with FC please come with me." This really put the proverbial cat amongst the pigeons! Many fearing the worst, including a rather chubby Private Parts, sidled with her and took the Chiltern Way back. These, I cannot forgive; except for Capt. F who had made a brave effort thus far despite his very sore tootsie. By the way, there was still no sign of Zingalonga Max.

Exit – stage right led the 'die-hards' up past the Wigmore playing fields. It was here that Nik Nak suffered a very severe attack of the nostalgia. Being a 'First Aider' I wanted to rub Vick on her chest to help relieve the congestion. But I thought; "Why should Vick have all the fun!" and went to rub – – but then she made a miraculous recovery as the roaring engines of a plane taking off distracted her.

... and remain baffled

The 7 & Oscar wot did it all, plus Super Max and The Cheeky Hare

Custard, prepared to argue with anything

Forking took to lurking in the bushes as the trail was found skirting the airport perimeter fence. It was here that the Count showed his true nurdy colours. Out came the camera – snap – a photo of the Emergency Training ground, snap – snap, as plane after plane took off above his head (who said head again?). But poor misguided Submissive suffered the stings and harrows as she pushed through the thick bracken and stingers following me – I was off my own bloody trail!

A lot of tarmac led past Burnt Wood, down past Diamond End to the 'ON -INN'. Funnily enough, just as Kisses Anytime had foretold whilst setting the run, the 'fishhooks' were ignored by the Count, Shuffle, Edwina and Subbie [must tell him about Screamer's rule .. ed] ploughed on without Forking, Bangers, Nik Nak and me. Us 'die-hards' got back to the pub at just on nine o'clock, to find Kisses, Capt. F, PP, DE, Spotted Dick, Custard and Pongo ensconced in the Bar. (They'd only got back twenty minutes before us.) No sign of Zingalonga Max!

"Circle Up!" was eventually called, and we all traipsed off into the carpark. In true H5 tradition, Pongo gave his impression of the evening's entertainment, which was favourable, but the main Down - Downs were awarded to:

  • Count Roadkill for sexism and inadvertent flattery. He commented on the beautiful, long legs on a young filly.
  • Nik Nak for 'preening' herself, as she though the comment was for her.
  • Custard for verbal abuse. She was heard to say; "Get out of the way you fat animal" whilst following FC through the allotments.
  • Private Parts for blindness. He failed miserably to recognise a horse and rider. It was a bit like the sketch in 'Only Fools and Horses', where Rodney was posted as a 'plod' lookout for Del Boy, and failed to recognise the Police 'Jam sandwich' that had pulled up next to him!
  • Zingalonga Max for turning up late and returning to the pub twenty minutes after the die-hards had arrived after running twice the trail distance by not realising that the trail was laid in blue flour! Marks, I hasten to add, he admitted to passing many times!!

ON - ON! To infirmity and beyond!
Fat Controller.

How The Count Did It except the silly count accidentally turned the satnav off for 10 minutes and missed a section in the middle