| Date | Hare | Scribe |
|---|---|---|
| 14 May 2023 | Maurice | Des |
Here we were in the middle of May, Spring had properly sprung, the early morning haze had cleared and the hashers duly assembled at the Great Shefford. This was our second visit to this pub, at the previous visit back in 2007 when it was called the the Swan. Don’t you just get annoyed when they change an historic pub name?
Maurice, our hare for the day and not a man who is backward at going forwards, led the assembled brethren around the first tricky bend in the main road and onto the side of a hill. He took up an elevated position to deliver his lengthy sermon. Clearly a part of his plan. He gave an account of the whole route in such minute detail, we all thought he was reading off a Google maps print out. Some were thinking they’d never remember all of the directions, however Maurice put our minds to rest when he confirmed he had actually laid some flour as well and that all the preceding b@ll@cks* was just because he liked the sound of his own voice. He was quite passionate and gave us a detailed account of all the things that we would see, but didn’t!! – Kingfishers are quite elusive. At the end of the sermon, someone who was still awake asked how long the walk would be, to which he replied “4.936 kilometres” (as I recall there were at lest three decimal places), somebody then asked what that was in miles, nobody knew including Maurice!
This km thing has long been a problem for Maurice.
*Please excuse the expletive, should it get past the ‘edit’ but this is merely emanates from a schoolboy challenge (from a Guinness drinking ex GOM considerably over the age of 70), as to how it might get incorporated into the hash mag.
We eventually set off uphill in glorious weather, with sunshine on our backs, to a high point with fantastic views across the Lambourn Downs.
The route took us through Daldridge Wood, a small copse full of bluebells in their prime, there was then a small dip into a valley where we walked through a sloping field populated with a thick blanket of Cowslips, ‘my favourite wild flower’ and a good year for them too. I recalled a little Shakespeare that I know (actually the only Shakespeare I know)
Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I crouch when owls do cry
Back at the top we came across a flour circle, essentially a choice of two directions, Brian went on a charge diagonally through a massive field of broad beans, but missed the ‘double dot’ He carried on his charge whist Eleanor/ Emily continued down the alternative ‘wrong’ route. The further Brian went, the further Eleanor/Emily went in the wrong direction. This seemed to go on for ages! Eventually John and Viv took a gamble and followed Brian, they discovered the double dots lying behind a bushy broad bean plant after about 25yards. Of course Eleanor/Emily was un-phased by the massive reversal and quickly caught up with the front runners.
We dropped down The Valley to Weston where we had our first (of many) stunning crossings of the River Lambourn by an old mill house, it is absolutely gorgeous around there, with great views along the river.
The route took us along the Lambourn Valley Way on the North side of the river. We came to a small detour (for the runners) and dropped down to visit an unused church St Thomas’s, luckily this church survived demolition in the 1950’s and is now looked after by the Redundant Churches. Much interest and time was taken by all. To access the Church one has to walk up to the front door of the church to read a sign that says ‘the key is in a box by the stile’ i.e. the one you had just walked past 50 yards before. Joking aside it was a nice touch with a small wooden box with hinged lid and a brass knob to open it to obtain the key. The 12th Century church has some lovely features and is unusual in that it retains wall paintings dating to around 1100. The Manor House and village that the church served sadly no-more.
Thanks for finding this gem Maurice most definitely worth the detour, it’s this sort of experience that adds to our hashing enjoyment!
It was around the Church that runners and walkers met up, with the walkers already having been in the church. As the OnnInn was not too far everyone arrived back at the pub in close order.
Unusually no-one had got lost and this was due in good part to the well marked trail.
I now recall there had been a few minor noises of disgruntlement in the car park before we had set off on the hash. A man who shall remain nameless complained ‘what a blooming long way it was from Highworth’ and a lady not known for being opinionated had it in for the Pub ‘if they want to charge twenty quid for a Sunday lunch they could at least have watered the hanging baskets’ I agreed!
Anyway this was all forgotten after such a great hash.
We had a lovely and large gathering of 20 or so happy souls, in the pub garden and sat by the river chatting and basking in the glorious sunshine.
Kevin stood and thanked the GOM profusely for an excellent hash and there was loud and repeated ‘hear hear’ from the hashers. It was remarked that David had not turned up with either the horn or the bags. I have to say we missed equally his portions chips he generously buys the group and his usual guaranteed whinge about some aspect of each hash!!
Finally to sign off, if I might be permitted, using similar language as an Irish mother turning to her male child and saying “c’mere you little fecker ’til I hug you.”
Maurice this really was a fecking good hash.