Run 1437 was a family effort for haring but writing the wurdz has fallen to me because one of my co-hares still writes in crayon and the other has been a bit busy with his first week at school.
It was a gloriously sunny day in contrast to run #1411 when the hash last attempted this route. It might have been a repeated trail but seeing as the pack got lost in the first half mile last time it meant the route was still a mystery even to those that had braved it in the snow previously. The route didn't stay a mystery for long though as Toby, in his excitement to hare, would point out the route and shoot off up the path as soon as a check was reached. The pack quickly forgot the important rule of 'never trust a hare' and cheerfully followed the short orange blur streaking ahead. However, it turned out the young leveret's memory of the route was flawed, either that or he enjoyed leading the pack astray and thought they needed to clock up a few extra miles.
The pack wound their way through the picturesque housing estates of Leighton Buzzard and soon found themselves out in open countryside. Cries of 'we don't remember this' showed the senior hare just how early on the pack had got lost last time. Unfortunately those taking in the views risked falling down one of the chasms that had opened up in the parched fields. Smoother ground was provided by the pavements of the charming village of Eggington. The pack will have to take my word for it that Eggington is charming because 30 yards later we were back out in the fields following a path away from the village.
Looking around at one point though I spied Ringer sat on the ground, trainer off, with Lady P closely examining his foot. A heated debate had ensued as to whether it was a big prick or a little prick [definitely big – Lady P got it out and reckoned 1½" at least: dep ed]. Either an anatomy lesson is needed or they were describing rather a vicious looking blackthorn spike they had just removed from his toes. The next hazard on the route was the flood lagoons. Thankfully no armbands were needed and the ponds were dry. Bangers, possibly inspired to revisit his youth, seemed to think that rolling down the steep banks was the best way to reach the bottom.
As the trail returned to town the youngest hare got increasingly excited and urged the pack on to greater speeds. Was it a beer stop? Was it the pub? No, it was a playground and the chance to go on the swings. This play check gave the pack a chance to regroup and it was decided that the quickest way back to the pub should be sought as everyone was parched. The hares quickly recalculated and lopped off a chunk of the route, much to the disappointment of Toby who was looking forward to a second park.
Back at the pub it was time to circle up and award the down downs (or were the hash learning the hokey cokey, all stood on one leg?)