Not that I’m paranoid or anything, but someone’s out to get me!
The last hash I set from the Bull at Hinton was designed to exploit a tunnel under the motorway, but I had to change it at the last minute because of a stroppy farmer. The point of this run was to visit the new Bath Ales pub in Frampton Cotterell, but I had to change it at the last minute because of an unwelcoming landlord.
I admit I had left it a bit late to tell the pub we were coming, but I was well unimpressed by the attitude of the manager, who could not even be bothered to tell me in person that he didn’t want us to come, leaving that task to a friendly barman. Apparantly, he was expecting a table of 19 that evening, so could not be expected to cater for a dozen drinkers. It seems a strange attitude for a pub chain dedicated to selling real ale!
Luckily, the staff at the Globe were more accommodating and they even reserved four tables for us for when we get back. I wonder if they still have the Thatchers in the fridge in the kitchen?
Actually, the route works better from the Globe in any case as there is no need to run along the roads of Frampton Cotterell.
When it came to actually laying the trail on Monday, things did not exactly go to plan. I had laid the trail over the motorway whn I bumped into a man on a quad bike, who claimed to be a farmer, Peter from Tynings Farm. He was not at all happy about what I was doing and kept me talking for what seemed like hours as my bare legs gradually turned to blocks of ice. Neither of us was able to convince the other of the justice of our case, but he agreed that I was entitled to do what I liked. However, he left me with a distinct impression that there might be some sort of trouble if I did.
In the end, I finished setting the trail, but I was not entirely happy with it. The only real reason I had chosen the route was to show off; to pull the the tunnel under the motorway like a rabbit out of a hat. It was OK as an idea, but it was not all that good as a hash. It was fractionally too long, and there were not enough opportunities for checks. Lickily, I had a plan B. I had already noticed a likely route, when I was looking for a short cut, in case any walkers turned up. So I resolved to buy some more flour and lay the alternative route as a live hare.
So, Libby and I turned up a little early. We found the hashers sheltering in a back bar and I gave a map to someone who said he could rad it, so that they wouldn’t get lost and I set off to lay the trail. The first third of the original route was the first third of the new route, so I was able to run straight out to the first regroup, which gave me a reasonable start.
From the regroup, I had to lay the trail along a bridle path across a newly sown field, which brought me up against the chief problem of being a live hare at night. It is very difficult to find your way along a diagonal path across a featureless field. Luckily, someone had taken a horse or two along the bridle path, so the field was not entirely featureless, so I ended up at exactly the right place. Relieved, I laid a couple of false trails along the hedge row and took off along the obvious trail across the next field to an enclosed track past a farm onto the road. I left another couple of false trails along the road and took off down the lane opposite. I left a second regroup half way along to slow down the pack and laid a check and more false trails where the bridle path I was looking for crossed the road. The bridle path down to the River Boyd was perfectly straightforward, and I left a check and more false trails on the bank. The path across the next field was less distinct and I was beginning to lose my bearings. I headed for the the place where I imagined the stile out of the last field to be, but, although I found a stile, it was clearly in the wrong place. By now I could hear the pack and could make out their torches making their way across the fields behind me. I went out into the road and ran to the right. Luckily, this turned out to be the right direction and I recognised where I was. I ran back and laid the trail along the road. Unfortunately, I was running out of flour, to I left some arrows and headed for the pub. The flour ran out before I got there, so I had to wait for the pack to catch up. Nevertheless, only one hound managed to catch me before I got there!
The pub was very welcoming, and after the down-downs, three of us finished up eating mussels in a rich sauce and Eton Mess. Yum-yum!
At the AGPU, which was just around the corner from my house, I allowed myself to be talked into setting a Hash or two by hairraiser – Batman. I often have a route or two in mind, which are too short for a TACH run, but which ought to be just right for a hash. At the moment I an nurturing three or four, as I have not been out with the hash for a bit, due to grandparental duties.
The first is one that has been festering in my mind for years, so I thought I had better see if it was still possible to get around it. Consequently, I went out in the van to the Bull at Hinton on Tuesday to check it out.
As it turned out, there was not much to worry about. There was one section early on, which I thought might have become overgrown with brambles and nettles, as it is one of those irritating narrow paths with a barbed wire fence on one side and a hedge on the other. These often get overgrown unless someone uses them a lot and keeps them clear. However, I got away with only a slight stinging sensation in my legs on this occasion. The ford was satisfactorily wet and I would imagine that anyone trying to use the stepping stones is likely to fall in. There is quite a pull up to the motorway bridge, and I think I may have to include a loop back along the Monarch’s Way for anyone thinking of walking.
There was a clear path across the big field, but it was ridged, making for quite heavy going. The nettle patch on the other section of the Monarch’s Way was thick, but luckily there was a path around it through the trees. There were cows on the section around the farm after the quarry, but they were not very curious and easily discouraged from being a nuisance. I wasted a little time finding the path alongside the motorway. I think it was overgrown when I went there last, but it had been opened up by the Berkeley Hunt in order to maintain the fence that they have put up to keep hounds off the motorway.
There were some more cattle on the otherside of the tunnel under the motorway. They were young stock, but they were quite easily persuaded to stand still, when I waved my belt bag at them. The lane back to the pub was full of rather splendid shoe-washing puddles.
I stopped off at the pub for a pint when I got back; it would have been rude not to pop in! The barman claimed the bar was shut, but he poured me a pint of Wadsworth’s IPA anyway. It went down very quickly I am afraid!
