Run Number:

1346 08/09/03

Visit the website –
Website Email –


The Reformation
Gallowstree Common


Lonely & his dog, Beaver

The Reform School

TT2 OldFart Hashgate Fiddler Itsyor GBH ShutupWally Potty Nutcracker Foghorn Heybabe John PartyAnimal Cheating Florence Jenny Steve Lucy Linda Lou Simon Hotlegs Claire Uplift Utopia Cerberus Spot Honeymonster Jenks HarryPotter HitchHiker Salome Ms. Whiplash Glittertits PissQuick Bob Spex Septic Dumper Iceman Motox C5 DutchCap Twanky Christian Baldrick SlowSucker Diana Dwight BumWiper and dog Gnarler BGB Sandra Andy

The Companionship of The Short Distance Hasher

Imagine if you will, a paperclip. Pull each loop apart. There you have the basis for Lonely’s trail. The pub’s roughly in the middle and the loops aren’t that long so we get back before darkness mantles the surrounding countryside. Simple eh? Lonely had employed 90% of his mighty brain (not that you’d think it to look at him but he’s a clever chap) to think this one up – the other 10% was multi-tasking on the usual bloke stuff; sex, cars, any booze in the fridge, sex, stop licking that Beaver etc.etc. Problem is, that strange beast BH3 does not act rationally. As we found very early on…

Last week, just as I was about to leave, Lonely snuck up behind me, placed a hand on my shoulder, pulled out a gold pocket watch on a chain and peered into my eyes. “Haaaashgaaate.” He whispered, swinging the watch. “You’re getting sleeeepy. You want to help with the Hash next week. Saay yess.” And before I’d managed to murmer a drowsy “Gettt sssttuffffed.” I’d agreed. Thus it was that I turned up this week and found a bag of flour and a map thrust into my hand just as we were about to On Out. The idea was that the shorter distance people would go down one loop of the paperclip. The longer distance people would do the other loop, then return to the start to do the first. Only one person did it properly.

Loop 1 -The usual FRBs; SlowSucker, Dwight, Itsyor, Fiddler et al set off down the road at a tremendous pace with me desperately trying to catch up, juggle a bag of flour and a dictaphone and chat to Florence. By the time I got to the point on the road where a check gave a choice of running further down the road or beasting off into the forest where there was a False everyone had disappeared and I could hear only some crashing noises in the woods and the occasional Foghorn crescendo blast of “On On”. Lonely and BGB appeared. Lonely seemed a tad miffed about something. “Hmm.” He voiced coldly. “They were supposed to go up the road, not into the forest.” I had the impression that if he had been carrying a mortar he would have pumped off a few rounds ahead of the FRBs, to gently persuade them to return. Lonely and the smiling BGB went off on the correct route – just so he wouldn’t miss the odd bar check and be disappointed – and I scuttered pell mell into the forest after the pack who were now running the loop backwards, eventually spotting the yellow T-shirt of Fiddler and the white one of HeyBabe. The whole thing came to a grinding halt somewhere at the top of the loop. I explained to C5 and OldFart, new girl Sandra and new boy Andy, and Florence and Christian and Twanky and, well, everybody else that they were running the trail backwards. Fortunately, they found it as amusing as I, Twanky suggesting they call “No No” just to get into the swing of things. Then up pops BGB from the opposite direction just to confuse those who were not privy to the news. “Wossgoinon?!” They queried, gently banging their heads on the nearest gatepost. I explained, pointed them on their way and followed Spot up a snicket where he tried to roger TT2 at the stile, pretending that he had had trouble stopping due to the speed of his approach. TT2 gave him a sardonic eyebrow lift that went up to his hairline and headed on watchfully. I spent most of the journey back to the middle of the paperclip chatting to Sandra who was enjoying her first Hash even if she didn’t understand why we met Hare Lonely standing by no less than three (yes, three!) checks in the same spot.

Loop 2 – ShutupWally was being particularly irritating about Reading Road Runners and ‘sweeping up the back runners’ by now and Lonely and I were discussing whether we should kick him repeatedly in the nadgers, then strangle him or do this the other way round. Each method afforded its own ladleful of mental satisfaction. We savoured the thoughts as we ran away from him.

After following Iceman through a thicket we met the pack returning from a Lonely bar check. We popped out on to the pasture to see HeyBabe being given a guided tour of the diagonal shortcut by Lonely while I followed John and PartyAnimal. John’s comment to PartyAnimal that he’d never seen him running so fast despite his slow progress was fairly true. But since John was behind him at the time it seemed a little harsh.

I found myself behind BumWiper and Gnarler and we chatted awhile – not Gnarler and I; BumWiper (I rarely engage in intercourse with old dogs but have been known to make the odd exception). Gnarler was leading as we speeded up a little, ears flapping up and down like a dragonfly. He looked back at BumWiper with that mute, sad appeal that dogs have. “Don’t worry.” She gasped, hurrying along. “Mummy’s here.” I ralphed rapidly in a nearby rabbit warren, barfed blazingly down a badger’s sett and volleyed volcanically in various voles’ holes. In fact, most underground creatures in the area faced sudden eviction by a tsunami of carrots and rolled-up tomato skins. Can you blame me!? I can imagine the little perisher having its own little pink plastic bathy-wathy, immaculately crocheted bedcovers and four little Paddington Bear wellingtons in case its ickly footsie-wootsies get wet in the nasty, horrid rain. So what does BumWiper get out of this relationship? Something warm and hairy in bed at night and a lot of licking. Say, BumWiper, if you ever get rid of the dog…

Then it got rather surreal. I spied what looked like a Foghorn in the bushes. “Is that you Foghorn?” I queried lightly. “No.” Came the reply. Erm…The not-Foghorn joined me for a squeaky trainer trot round the cricket pitch boundary where we congratulated Lonely in his absence (he was not there either) on his unbroken flour line. No-one could get lost following it. Dizzy possibly. But not lost.

A final spurt for the finish had us all disappointed as a smug Uplift announced she had got back “before everyone”. Presumably, she didn’t do the reverse loop. However, no need to worry, SlowSucker (aka ‘Madasaboxofrogs’) went and ran it again for her, the right way round.

As a Hare/observer I found this a hugely amusing Hash that fulfilled the requirement for the evening – to get back before it got too dark. And Lonely laid it all on his own. Well done Lonely!
On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Motox presented the following :-



Style points


Getting a lift yesterday and sticking her tongue out!

Nicely downed


Creating a new Hash shout – “Oncoming!”

A very reasonable effort


Being more annoying than usual

Not quite as red-faced afterwards as usual – but still gasping

Sandra, Andy

Tonight’s virgins

A fine, fast tie. Nice to see you both.


Severe boasting about being the only one who did all the trail

Excellent half with nary a drop spilt


A birthday boy

Wonderful, fluid style by Bob


Complaining that Bob gets a drink every week

…and even faster by Florence

Lonely, Beaver and me

Hare, Hare’s dog and helper(?)

All three were given a pint in a tupperware box with a torn up crust of bread. Surprisingly, it was rather good!

Up and Coming

Run Number


Grid Reference




11:00 am


The Railway Tavern, Hungerford



11:00 am


The Carpenter’s Arms

Dwight, Centaur (groan…)