On an oddly bright chilly spring morning the usual Sunday suspects (and visiting hasher Borderline and chum) assembled at the Crow’s Nest, Seaham for a trail around the Durham Heritage Coast.
The r*nners and w*lkers headed towards the beach where the grey skies merged with the sea, with the occasional gull a tossed paper in the wind and flash of white against the grey sky. A brief chance for H3O to beachcomb the flotsam and jetsam with the random treasure hunt providing sea glass for the mantelpiece …. err well actually it was the size of a plectrum, but you get the idea. Meanwhile on the r*nners trail our own “Treasure” (Chest) lead the way past the magnificent Seaham Hall as The Pimp pencilled-in a future weekend sojourn for him and Bird of Prey.
The r*nners plodded on with InnContinence and Beerdog competing for a slimy stick and Spiderman divesting himself of several layers as we all got a sweat-on. (He started as Michelin Man and finished as Stick Man). Onwards through Dawdon Dene occupying FRB’s with a level of equality rarely seen on a hash. Why wasn’t Spiderman bagging them all? Then peltin’ doon’ Down Stony Cut bank waggonway, which on a clear day affords views of North Yorkshire and today …… well just Seaham Golf Course to the immediate south.
Meanwhile the w*lkers had a choice of trail to REMAIN on the Harbour Walk or LEAVE for the delights of the sadly littered Rockhouse Dene Nature Reserve (That’s the ONLY Brexit reference you’re getting Grasshopper). Fortunately the remainers won the day and headed into Seaham Harbour and the delights of the chi chi bars and bistros whilst being regaled by tales of Omm going down …… the three Seaham collieries of Vane Tempest, Dawdon and err …. Seaham Colliery. Time to linger for a coffee with Watsarong, Malteaser et al, whilst back on the r*nners trail ……
…… into the delightfully named Hazel Dene …. a site of outstanding fly-tipping, industrial scale littering and fulsome canine defaecation. Eventually escaping the horrors of the dene, with TC boldly leading the way into the depths of the tunnel of doom with a heart-wrenching plea “I’m scared ….. it’s dark ….. how long does this go on for?”. Only 80 metres, and then out into more urban decay, abandoned shopping trolleys and detritus.
Eventually climbing out of the dene and down to the welcoming seascape of the Durham coast and back through the delightful harbour pausing for a photo or two at the wonderful statue of Tommy the First World War soldier.
After the best (and worst) of Seaham, we reconvened at The Crow’s Nest for potted-meat sandwiches and ginger beer (sorry getting a bit confused with the Secret Seven) …. Sunday lunch.
On On next week to Habita and The Newcastle Beer Festival on Wednesday.