(BH3 Run 1812!!!)
13 Aug 12
Hare: Pirelli (or, for the geographically challenged, Itsyor & Old Fart)
Short version: A tale of two trails
It seems not that long ago that Pirelli was celebrating 650 runs. Which just shows how time flies when you're having fun, as it was as long ago as Run 1393 - Bon Accord (Pirelli's 650th) . https://www.facebook.com/groups/glasgowh3/doc/239558156080852/ Back then, there had been beer and food laid on, just as a celebration (although we weren't quite so cheap as to down down the hare with his own beer – just all the other down downs).
Fast forward a year, and some beer and food was still going to be provided, though with holidays coming round, it looked for a while as though the turnout would be sparse, which was beginning to worry the hare, in case he had over ordered food.
Holidays being the order of the day (unless you were watching the 'lympics, in which case “slobbing in front of the television” was the order of the day, although a few managed to watch the football at Hampden, just to say they'd seen some Olympics – Barcode, Hughiee Blarrgh, Stand and Deliver and Not Piglet saw a quarter final match, while Bladerunner and I saw the famous “diplomatic incident” match, “The North Korean women's football team walked off the pitch at their Olympic match in Glasgow after their images were shown on a screen beside a South Korean flag. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-18991619” ), we were off down south too, which meant that, without a teleporter, it would be a bit hard to be there, so we did the next best thing, and headed for the other GH3 who run on a Monday evening at 7:30pm – Guildford. As it turned out, they were apparently doing a joint run with Berkshire H3 (who, as Barcode will happily re-tell, held the Nash Hash as their 500th run back in 1987. Not wholly without incident.)
Having run with Guildford previously, they do things slightly differently down there. Foremost of them is managing to start promptly at 7:30, something which Glasgow finds... harder. (GH3 clearly are kindred spirits with the highlander on holiday in Spain, who keeps hearing the word “manaña” used, and asks a waiter what it means. “Oh, you know,” was the response, “Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. Or the day after that. But, whenever. Is there any similar word in Gaelic?” “Oh no,” he said after some thought, “we wouldn't be having a word for anything as rushed as that!”)
Having spoken to the hares (Stand and Deliver and Bladerunner had wandered down the road a bit, as she had only just discovered earlier that day that her late father's cousin lived literally 300 yards down from the On Inn), it seemed as though the trail was a “mostly Berkshire” one. Even though the village of West End is in Surrey. (Mind you, politically, Berkshire no longer exists: according to wikipedia, “Berkshire is a county of historic origin and is currently both a ceremonial county and a non-metropolitan county without a county council.”).
As 7:30 swung round, the (large) assembled pack were given the hares' brief, which included some hieroglyphics that Rheopectic would have been proud of. More importantly though was the advice “It doesn't cross any main roads, so if you cross a main road, then you're off trail”. And so we were on on across some open ground. And then off towards the far corner of the field. The FRB were checking across the main road, despite the note from the hares (clearly, their definition of “main road” was different!). “Wow,” said one hasher, “less than 10 minutes in, and we've lost the trail twice!”. Lucky for the hares, they don't invoke the rule of “If you can still see the on inn, then that's it”, or it would indeed have been a short trail – the pub was still clearly in view as we headed back to the first check again.
Still, into the woods and up on to the heathland, it made for an interesting trail – and some queues, as the only way down off the hill was along a very narrow path bordered by gorse; no short-cutting here!
On along another (slightly wider) path, and it looks as though Kipper's kindred spirit could be seen – off on his own, oblivious to the rest of the pack, but going in roughly the right direction.
More twists and turns through the woods, and the semi-open heathland, and at one point, there was a very definite barrier – an MoD sign indicating that beyond the fence, there was the possibility of there being unexploded live ammunition. Self preservation being quite strong, no one felt up to challenging it...
Being somewhere in the middle to the back of the pack (the walkers had been given a map of their own route), there was a regroup at a stile. “Here is where there is a long trail and a short trail,” said the hares. “The long one is about 3km longer than the short one.” Bladerunner was all for taking the long trail, until I pointed out that, as it was already 8:20, then the long trail seemed a bit, well, hard core – no time for sight-seeing, as the FRB took the long trail at a run. Short trail it was then!
Arriving at a check with 3 dots in it, one of the BH3 hashers commented “is this where we should have been paying attention?” It is, apparently, a “3 flour and you're on” type check (although does that mean that a check with no dots is “no flour and you're on” ? ). Still, at least we found trail. A bit further on, and there was one that looked as though it had a smiley face, though it could also have been 4 dots. One part of the pack had checked one way, and seemed oblivious to shouts of “on on” from the other way...
Coming round the houses a bit, it was a surprise to find the On Inn and then see the pub on the same side of the road – we had sneakily crossed the road the pub was on round about where it became a track, so never noticed it.
Assorted down downs to the hares, and to some of the GH3 lot, who had somehow forgotten to tell the rest of them about it being a joint run, so the Glasgow H3 contingent was almost up there with the Guildford H3 lot.
Back in 1987, the BH3 Nash Hash was (in)famous for running out of beer – not so much “diplomatic incident” as “dipsomaniac incident” - which led to the GMs of all the Scottish Hashes having a quick meeting and deciding to have a whip round of all the Scots - £5 for more beer. A suitable sum procured, and a couple were despatched to find an off-licence. On a Sunday afternoon, back in the days before all-day drinking was the norm. Surprisingly, they managed it, and filled a car with beer for the assembled thirsty masses (at least, the ones who had chipped in). When it came to the down downs for the visitors (one from the south of France; one from Spain (originally from Glasgow, apparently); and the 4 of us from Glasgow), there were only 3 beers! Clearly channelling the spirit of Nash Hashes past, they had run out. Still, at least Stand and Deliver was able to finish hers before the other two.
In the real trail, of course, Barcode reported that it was a “Good turnout for Pirelli's 700th!” Assaulty Dog had this to say about the quantities provided by Pirelli - “it was limited to 2 pints each...of course not everyone was drinking...” - which must have been such a hardship for those helping out those not drinking. Oh wait, it wouldn't.
The one written up: