Geohashing expedition 2026-09-13 51 -1

This checkin to geohash 2026-09-13 51 -1 reflects a geohashing expedition. See more of Dan's hash logs.

Location

Nature reserve near Woodstock, Oxfordshire. It’s unclear from the maps whether the hashpoint will be accessible.

Participants

Plans

I woke early after a series of nightmares about having to move house yet again (I’ve done that a lot, this year, on account of the flood that rendered my house uninhabitable in February), except this time the house we moved into was occupied by some kind of bear-like monster that chased me around the place.

Anyway: having woken up I decided to take the dog out for a walk, and I noticed that the hashpoint up here in Woodstock might be accessible. The maps show it as being not in the nature reserve but in what could be the gardens of the nearby houses, so this might all come to naught.

Expedition

The dog and I parked at Union Street Car Park and set out on our walk. I’d originally anticipated entering the nature reserve via a footpath marked from Brook Hill, but when we got there I discovered a “danger – no entry” sign. I decided to ignore it – it was probably there back from when this valley flooded, and wasn’t relevant any more. Tempting fate, I moved to walk past it, snapping a photo of the sign on the way.

Blurry photograph of a French Bulldog running away from the foot of a signpost, on a grassy trail.

This is all I managed to capture of the sign, though, because something distracted me…

That’s when I noticed the wasps. Lots of them, buzzing around a nearby tree. Probably their nest was nearby and they were coming over to investigate me and decide whether or not I was a threat (I don’t think they were the reason for the danger sign!). In any case, this is where the next problem began: I have a hole in the crotch of the trousers I’m wearing.

Close-up of the crotch of a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, with some skin and underwear visible through a small hole.
It’s not a big hole, but it turns out that it didn’t need to be.

It turns out that a wasp had managed to fly up inside the groin area of my trousers and I didn’t notice until… it got partially-squished between the sensitive parts on the inside of my inner thigh… and the even-more-sensitive parts next to them! I became aware of a sharp stinging sensation, and then another, and it quickly became a burning sensation as I swatted at my legs to try to liberate, or else kill, the monster. Meanwhile, all of the wasp’s friends were now heading my way, providing reinforcements for their companion.

So I ran.

A fawn-coloured French Bulldog trots along a damp forest path.
The doggo had a great time and couldn’t tell what I was complaining about.

The dog and I had to sprint deep into the woods before we were sure that none of the little bastards were still following us. I’d been working on adrenaline (and the dog had been working on her general desire to run around and be crazy), and hadn’t noticed until I was able to slow down quite how unpleasant my sore and swollen parts were as they rubbed against one another. Ugh.

Dan, a white man with a goatee beard, grimaces as he holds his crotch, alongside a French Bulldog on a woodland footpath.
Do not recommend.
We regrouped by a stream and found our bearings. We’d come some way from our intended course, but I plotted a series of paths that would take us close, and the pupper and I bravely pressed on.
A fawn-coloured French Bulldog drinks from a stream.
Refilling the tanks.

Soon we were close to the hashpoint and I observed to my delight that it lay in what seemed to be a no-mans-land; a deeply-overgrown patch between the nature reserve and the nearby housing estate. The undergrowth would be too much for the doggo’s little legs, so I left her behind and pushed on alone for the final hundred metres, stomping through swampy conditions and brambles as I approached the coordinates.

Thick undergrowth in dense woodland.
The hashpoint is somewhere near the centre of this image, next to a tree.

After some stomping around, Geohashdroid was able to draw a small circle of uncertainty within which the hashpoint clearly lay.

Dan stomps through thick undergrowth, a dog's lead hanging around his shoulders.
I can’t manage a silly grin. Will a silly grimace do?

I hacked my way back to the dog (who was happily living her best life, pretending to be a wild wolf, living in the forest) and we made our way home via an attempt at a nearby geocache and checking and updating some OpenBenches data.

Android screenshot showing the user's location of 1.429m from its destination, the 51 -1 geohashpoint.
Proof, thanks to Geohashdroid.

A success, but not one without a significant amount of pain. I can’t believe I’m saying this but: from personal experience, I do not recommend using your genitals to crush wasps.

Tracklog

My primary GPSr’s been missing since… my house flood, I think. But I was able to use the fitness tracker in my watch for a decent GPS tracklog.

Map showing a walk around Woodstock.

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1 comment

  1. Fippe Fippe says:

    Ouch, just reading that hurts! Hope you will recover soon. On the bright side, you can now tell people that you went to Woodstock and came back with burning privates, but that might lead to people thinking you are significantly older than you are.

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