Run No: 1354 Visit the website: http://www.bhhh.freeserve.co.uk

Venue: Cross Keys, Pangbourne Website E-mail: iceman@bhhh.freeserve.co.uk

Hares: Posh and Bomber

The Hashers:

Iceman, Hashgate, Wally, Dutch, Spot, Tin Opener, Miranda, Emma, Spex, Bob,

Hamlet (for beer only), Hey Babe, Hitch Hiker, Train Spotter, Lonely, Beaver, Cloggs, Non Stick, BGB, Julia, et al

The Hash

That anyone arrived at all, given the torrential downpour that had been incessant since first light, was impressive. Not so impressive was the sight of said Berkshire Harriers standing dripping under an inadequate tree in Pangbourne Car Park. (It should perhaps be mentioned that the scribe was only there as Posh had shared a bottle of Pinot Grigio with her in a local hostelry the evening before, and it seemed poor recompense not to turn up). Wally wondered why there was such a small pack, and then wondered why he hadn’t heard about the trip to Cornwall others were away on.

The sodden lot mingled around Bomber as he tried to raise the rabble to enthusiasm to “On Out”, then suddenly umbrellas were removed and the pack raced off out of the car park to excited cries of “its always this way”. Cloggs and Train Spotter looked like true atheletes in shorts and t-shirts, the others looked like rejects from the wet anorak society. Spex kindly livened up the sodden proceedings by wandering slowly into a deep puddle, and failing to notice until the water was cascading into her trainers. Blobs of pastry mix led the pack into a car park, where despite thorough searching no flour was to be seen. Bomber assured the pack (for the first of many times) that there had been a check there, but the lake that had since covered the car park had obliterated it. He did his credibility no favours by drawing a large mauve check on the ground as he spoke. Beaver however seemed full of the joys of a Sunday morning run in the pouring rain, and raced all over the car park, tail wagging – the rest of the pack ran around less effectively, eventually wending their way down to the river, to join the canoeists and green mounds of fishermen that were also enjoying this damp spell. With a little help from Bomber, BGB spotted a mound of dough, and sped off in FRB mode like a water mole possessed, whilst Lonely initiated a small discussion group debating the cleanliness of the Thames and the number of sewage outlets currently operating in that stretch. Beaver ignored the discussion and enjoyed swimming in the river anyway.

As the course turned away from the river, there was time to enjoy the beautiful scenery ahead of vivid black sky contrasting the autumnal trees intersected by a red virgin streaking across the scene. Admiration of this view was curtailed by the less poetic vision of Non Stick and Cloggs taking a major short cut across a field. When next turning back to the view the virgin train had been replaced by a chugging thames locomotive.

At this stage the rain was abating so hashers were enthusiastically “checking it out”, all apart from Hashgate who was strolling around – his excuse being that having run 3 false trails in the last 20 minutes, he was having a rest.

Wally, Spot and Train Spotter were seen disappearing down a road clearly marked with “Short Cut”, and despite admirable efforts to retrieve the latter two, the pack had to give them up as lost. The remainder of the pack then went through the suburbs of Pangbourne, finding their way through Council allotments to a pleasant grassy field. The whole pack milled around attempting to find signs of washed away flour, apart from Cloggs and Non Stick who were apparently “propping each other up”. The route led off over two wooden bridges spanning a couple of minor undulations in the meadow, into woods where the pack enjoyed running around through face high nettles eventually leading to a stream that (according to the hare) had not been there when they had recc’d the route. On wading through a road was reached, displaying a two way check, and hashers gainfully checking routes. Meanwhile Bomber was heard loudly proclaiming to the girls around him that he didn’t own one big enough (the subject matter was never ascertained)

A quick sprint up a hilly field, resulted in a slower chug up some steps into the woods, Train Spotter remarking that it was well time Stena installed chair lifts in woods. The regroup in the beech tree’d woods was one of camaraderie enjoying the colours around, until a certain hasher, arriving later than most of the rest, vociferously demanded to know why we weren’t checking it out; Wally was sent off to follow his own suggestions.

Bomber notified the group that from now on the rules had been changed to “one blob and on”, as he and Posh had rather feebly let their spirits give way to the torrential downpour of that morning, and couldn’t be bothered to lay any more false trails from there onwards. So the long runners went scampering off, and the short runners enjoyed a Sunday meander through the woods discussing the merits of various films and videos currently on release.

Heading from the village of Tidmarsh towards Pangbourne, the harriettes were alarmed to hear severe grunting and rustlings coming from just round the corner. Bob was sent to investigate and notified the worried lasses that it was Spot enjoying himself in the sun that was now shining brightly. (The name of the breed of pig was indecipherable on the dictaphone, but definitely included the word Spot - see Bob for further information on bacon buttie manufacturing). One of the harriettes (payment has been received to keep the name quiet) then got very excited about an Arabian Stud up ahead, so the walkers obligingly broke into a trot, however the excitement was soon quelled by a large bounding dog, and normality was returned for the On Inn to Pangbourne along the pretty River Pang.

A quick sprint into the car park found an extremely clean and tidy Hamlet sipping a pint, next to a covered in mud Wally.

An excellent hash through lovely countryside, many thanks to the two hares for turning out to lay it, whilst the rest of us were noting the rain and turning over for another hour under the warm duvet.

On On – Hey Babe

Down Downs

Spot presented the following from the sun filled terrace bar overlooking the trout filled babbling brook:

Up and Coming