Lonely Associates to the rescue

La Hash-Ronde Des Collines Nicoises

Nothing was said of course, but you could feel the disappointment over the internet. No one was blamed but we’d missed the deadline!! Training regimes were being hatched, imaginations buzzing for outfits, taste buds reminiscing those muscular Bellet wines, but to no avail! Les authorities a dit ’Non!’ Yet, as Sadist taught us in Albenga, when we have a fairy godmother ‘You shall go to the Ball!’!
As announced, the start was the Saint Isidore car park. At 10:30, the preannounced starting time & no sign of the hare the pack encircled the visiting associate. Visibly concerned having fallen on his already painful back – after a couple of days skiing – while setting the trail, AWOL kept emphasizing the superb flat running territory of Berkshire, his home hash. On this trail there are hills, he announced!!!! Anxious to meet the challenge, the pack took off, Pilchard sniffing the way. An ecstatic Jessie followed his lead cheered on by Jobsworth & the missing hare. Padre showing every intention of not losing the pack on one-way UP UP trail.
Walkers hung back to receive their promised short cut – a second car park at the tennis club for those not wanting to do the initial one mile of steep climbing to the top!!! Drivers already had their cars packed waiting for Farty Bum who finally gave up waiting for the hare & gave the ONON signal. Three packed cars headed uphill until forced to stop by a red light. The purpose of the large poster below the stop sign was to avert car drivers to DRIVE SLOWLY as they shared the road with pedestrians. No specific reference to hashers! After many twists & turns the cars arrived at the promised car park, dutifully parked & unloaded their share of the walkers pack.
The walkers regrouped at the car park entry to inspect the load of used furniture on the roadside, below a sign forbidding dumping. Some bargaining over the single bed frame. To be sure it could be recovered later, Sadist removed a couple of wooden slates – to fool persons less intelligent than hashers – that the bed was not usable?
Diligently crossing the road to be facing the oncoming cars, the pack was quickly in indian file. Tossing precaution to the wind the chat groups quickly formed, climbing at an impressionable pace, admiring the views & continuing unfinished business.

Spanish Fly captured nature’s early signs of the changing seasons.

Just as Lonely had so gallantly stepped in to lay the previous runner’s trail, FB stepped into the role of walker’s hare. She expertly guided the pack at each turn along this complicated one-way UP one-way DOWN trail. True to the hares promise the last weaving, climbing cross road led the walkers’ right into the square of a medieval village where the runners were already sampling wine from the local domains.

After very long explanations from the hare about the runners & walkers return trails the pack separated to begin the long descent to the start. Some peeled to the right, some to the left and drivers to retrace their steps down to their cars parked half way downhill at the tennis club.
In case of difficulty recovering from the refined air at the top of the Nice hills the hares had taken great effort, at the forks, to keep the pack on the right trail.
In fact, the majority appreciated the opportunity to turn off-road rather than outguessing the continual swish-swish of passing cars. Or was the real reason to shortcut!!! This prospect so delighted the scribe who, from experience, will seize upon any opportunity to avoid broken bones and slid down the steepest path on the bum. Thanks FB for reminding me that this technique is obviously to avoid doing a back flip like AWOL had done at this spot while setting trail.

Just at this moment the runners, who we all thought were miles ahead of us, showed up from behind. Was it their eagerness to get to the beer at the end of the trail the cause of getting so seriously lost, immediately after the wine sampling, that it took them an hour to catch up. Returning to the lower level of the start, the pack prepared for Down Downs & the closing circle.

Hares: Lonely and visitor AWOL
Visitor: AWOL from Lonely’s home hash (Shropshire?)

NB AWOL is from the Berkshire Hash and he lives in Cumlaot’s  hometown in the UK

Birthday: Supermarket Trolley (again)
No Explanation: Spanish Fly
(Cumalot left to find the lost Dire Rear and Padre took over as RA).
Seeing “Spanish Fly” on Cumalot’s down-down list, Padre ordered Spanish Fly into
the circle.
Spanish Fly demanded to know what he was being punished for.
Padre replied that he was on Cumalot’s list and that no further explanation was
Loser: Pedo, for leaving his clothes where they shouldn’t be left
Welsh: for losing in rugby (Pedo, Cumalot)
Mugless: No Satisfaction, Jobsworth
Techie / Nerd: Cumalot for creating a new website

Shit of the Week nominations:

AWOL, the co-hare, for leading the runners one or two kilometers downhill on the wrong trail, forcing them to lose half an hour and then run back up again
Farty Bum, for naming the train station “St Augustine” instead of “St Isadore”, for getting lost following her own pic13
directions, for using improper names, and for nominating the co-hare for shit-of-the-week
Lonely, for traumatizing the co-hare by arriving too late so that his shy, timid co-hare was forced to make a speech
giving instructions to the runners (as well as make the decision to start the run without the hare)
Cumalot / Padre for giving a down-down to Spanish Fly with no explanation
Dire Rear for getting left behind and requiring the RA to go in search of her
After unclear voting results, Lonely sacrificed himself and took the down-down
As announced, the pack retired to the nearby Chinese restaurant for lunch.

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