Quicksteppers

Ms Whiplash Spot Hashgate Donut Caboose Foghorn Dunny RampantRabbit Deela? Alan Sue Barbara Cerberus BillyBullshit Poisoned Chalice Iceman Mark Mrs Blobby Mr Blobby Uplift Utopia Swallow Slowsucker Bogbrush Fannybag Slapper NoSole JustMoist Motox Lungs Whinge TC OldFart Itsyor Fiddler Twanky Zebedee Florence Messenger Boy SkinnyDipper Poca Pissquick AWOL Lonely Cheating Iplod and much later… Flash

A Race Against Time

Rather typical, we thought, that Zeb and Flo should be driving toward and through the Pack as it streamed out of the pub a little before time. Spex and Loudontasteless had got us on our way in record time, after the briefest of introductions and hellos to virgins Alan and Sue by stand-in GM Ms Whiplash. Our Hares are nothing if not well-organised. Wearing identical bright orange T-shirts they had stood us round stunningly well drawn flour marks to ensure that even the dimmest of Hashers understood the Trail markings. A Field Check, a numbered Bar and a Fishhook crafted in almost Freudian (Lucien, that is) perfection were lined up on the pavement. We had not experienced a Fishhook for a while. This fiendish piscine device with a number by the side indicates the number of FRBs who, on reaching said motif, have to turn round and run to the back of the Pack before proceeding again. As expected, it completely screwed everyone not affected. More of this later.

The Hares had laid a curious, asymmetric petal-shaped course in the early part of the Trail. We looped out and back through estates and fields, urged on the while by them in order to get back before darkness fell. Last week’s night Hash was not to be repeated. I’m sure if Spex could have brought her flagellation kit several of us would have felt its lash.

The pace was frenetic and the evening was hot. Checks were reached gratefully so people could have a rest. Though, of course, anyone coming up to a Check after it has been kicked out doesn’t get a break so its pretty hard work in the middle and at the end of the Pack. However, we got an opportunity when we reached a field containing a herd of cows. These fine creatures (possibly Charolais or relatives thereof) munched in a contented, silky, golden-coated group. The mums and calves did not move while our group ran lightly across their field. Just moo’d a bit. Mr Blobbby had adopted the role of protective gentleman for Fannybag and other ladies. This was a very laudable action and would normally have drawn a light round of applause. However, while the Blobbador faced off the herd their lack of interest in ravishing Fannybag was evident. While he postured in his ‘suit of lights’ the beasts chewed and viewed. Not a hoof moved. Mr Blobby left the arena, striding with head held high, tights unripped. The beeves continued chewing.

Talking of Fannybag, I found myself running behind her husband Bogbrush who was giving his dodgy leg a try out. He and I have been exchanging emails recently. It’s been a fascinating conversation during which he admitted to counting the beans on his afternoon tiffin toast. Worrying, you might think. But no. It indicates the depth of his passion for getting right The Tick, for which he is responsible. I had jokingly accused him of bean-counting when he admitted checking off his Tick list weekly against the list of Hashers in the Gobsheet. And I was taking the mickey out of this amazing dedication! You see the quality of people that make BH³ the success it is? Remember, the AGM is very nearly upon us and you, yes YOU, have the opportunity to join Hashers like Bogbrush! Bring a rush of blood to the head? Are the hairs on your arms rising at the thought? Put your name forward. You too could find out just how many beans are on Bogbrush’s toast!

And so to the Fishhook. The Pack had followed the FRBs to a bifurcation in the Trail and the mass of Hashers had noticed Slowsucker, Zebedee and Fiddler returning along the Trail and had immediately assumed they had found a Bar. The Pack split off along the other, unmarked path even though the FRBs, still running back, were shouting ‘On On’. This added to the confusion with Dunny in particular unable to understand what was going on. It was a wonderful moment as Hashers milled one way and the next, with the FRBs running through them. It finally sorted itself out and the rest of us happily ran over the Fishhook. LoudonTasteless was highly amused by the success of the feature when told later.

We hit the Regroup in Riseley Memorial Hall’s playground and Poca, Itsor and Cerberus took full advantage of the swings while Dunny continued to try and make sense of the Fishhook. It seemed there was a Long and a Short split near to here, followed by a Short and a Very Short Trail. The light began to fail. We sliced off at an alarming, gasping, snorting rate, splitting at the Long and Short. It turned out to be an enjoyable trot through the woods, a welcome relief after those long, long field tracks. Foghorn, Cerberus and I had separated from the main group and we pasted along the woodland paths at a fair clip until we spotted the Very Short marker furthert on. We looked at each other, we looked at the marker. We beasted off down the Very Short. Which turned out to be not so short after all. It was more like a training run and we discussed the relative merits of Asics, Saucony and New Balance running shoes to take our mind off it. The pub loomed before us in the gathering gloom and we gratefully turned towards it, minds on that first pint and and the chips the landlady had offered to make for us.

So a fast but good run from Spex and Loudon Tasteless our thanks to them.

Sadly, I shall not be at next week’s no doubt stunningly good Hash as I have to go on holiday. Very disappointing but it has to be done…

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Spot presented the following :-

Cerberus by a short head

Up and Coming

Skittles Evening

Friday, 7^th October at The Red Lion, Theale. See Ms Whiplash if you want to go.