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The Dewdrop Inn
Ashey Hill



The Tsunami Appeal

Obviously, everyone is well aware of the personal tragedies undergone by people caught up in the tsunami which occurred in that part of the world where Hashing started and our sympathy and thoughts go out to them. At the Gather Round Spex reported that BH3 has raised over £250 to send to the Appeal fund and Vodaphone have generously agreed to match any figure we raise.

Dewdrops, A Couple of Dewlaps And Several “Dew know Where We’re Goings?”

Hashgate Foghorn Chopstix Iceman Mother Theresa Lemming Posh Bomber C5 Andrée Baldrick Dumper Septic Spex LoudonTasteless HeyBabe Kayak PissQuick Glittertits Motox OldDog BGB ShutupWally Flash DutchCap Donut Florence Cheating Krystyna Twanky Stuart (renamed as Quack) Caboose TinOpener LeVoisin

Clogged With Mud

Despite the fact that Cloggs’ swain, NonStick had been due to lay the trail with her but, due to a hernia, found himself wheeling a little NHS-supplied wheelbarrow around while trying not to let the contents slither out. So Cloggs advised us that it was to be ‘one blob and On’ and also there would be lucky dip tokens near some of the checks which we should collect to enable us to take part in a Lucky Dip later. Of course, there’s always one loose cannon or in this case, spud gun, which Lemming had got for Christmas. Gouging pieces out of a small potato he lined people up for pot shots left, right and centre uttering hoarse cries of “Go ahead punk. Make my day.” to his victims many of whom were all for rolling up his tiny, hairless body, stuffing him in the spud gun and firing him over the pub roof á la (sub) human cannonball.

The start of the Hash was a very lazy affair with most of us hanging around waiting for someone to check it out. I believe Cheating (of all people!) and Iceman found the trail – which actually went down the muddy hill. HeyBabe minced gingerly, trying to keep her tootsies dry, Caboose sensibly chose a slightly less slippery path and Foghorn trampled madly through the shiggy like a buffalo with itchy piles. At the bottom of the hill stood two offset wooden gate affairs designed to stop people from careering on to the path across the bottom. Chopstix dipped daintily under one of the chest-high structures. Which was curious. Why didn’t she just walk through the mini chicane? A senior moment perhaps?

We followed Motox to a check near a pond by a windswept grassy hill with a fenced-off pile o’ bricks item of ancient architectural interest (iaai). He’d missed the Lucky Dip token so I swiped it and Glittertits and I trotted round the pond for something to do since Motox had found an arrow by the iaai pointing back to the check. Baldrick joined us. Then Florence. A few geese looked on somewhat sanctimoniously as we trudged back to the check and off in a different direction. Nice one, Cloggs. We entered slightly more familiar forest where I am both happy and amazed to report that Chopstix and OldDog had actually been checking out the trail. And here we rather lost it. Despite the best efforts of Posh, Glittertits, Baldrick and even Cheating we couldn’t find the flour. I passed the time noting the people who had obviously crossed Lemming’s path earlier. Both OldDog and Dumper were well spattered with mud though the former seemed to have caught it on one side only.She suggested using her face to advertise Hashing – the left, pink and smooth as a baby’s bum for ‘Before’ – the right, looking like a cat with dysentary had pooped on it for ‘After’. C5 and I found ourselves trotting up the hill only to find flour blobs! How had Posh missed them? Perhaps she had been distracted by the tiresome requirements of running her household – new breeches for the under-gardener, speak to the Housekeeper about that silly tweeny’s refusal to wear a mob-cap, give that sexy pool fellow a good rogering. You know the kind of thing. However, having got to the very top of the hill Florence and C5 starting the descent down the other side. Silly them! Back we all came to join with Septic and co. heading off into the forest. She remonstrated with me and my fellow FRBs for not finding the trail properly so they wouldn’t have to do all this backtracking. I apologised of course and hurtled off through the soggy wood with Lemming in hot pursuit. This just shows how slow we had been to find the trail. We popped out on to a downhill track constructed solely of slippery, shoe-sucking shiggy which had Lemming squeaking with delight as he scooped up two dripping handfuls and headed towards the distant, unsuspecting Cloggs. The poor girl had no chance and ended up looking like a negative panda. PissQuick and Chopstix were caught similarly by the rampant Lemming.

At the next check Baldrick and I managed to a) get the trail, and b) lose it completely within the space of two minutes. We should have, and Bomber, Glittertits and Foghorn did, run through a kind of farm/engineering yard where many of the old steam engines are kept between Knowl Hill steam rallies. There were some fascinating relics from another Age. But of course there are quite a few of them in BH3… I noted that one of the steam tractors was a ‘Wallis Expansion Engine’. Florence stood by it and said, half to herself, “I could use one of those.” No, I didn’t ask. I might have been embarrassed. We hurried on. It was getting damn cold.

The rest of the trail was a fair old chunk of uphill and down dale running with some stunning views at certain points (usually after staggering up another calf-cramping slope), a concrete track, further forest trails and a curious narrow track laid with paving slabs by which Cloggs had attempted a little aboriginal-inspired art. In the earth bank were two holes next to each other just above a sticking-out tree root. Cloggs had completed the face with a flour smile. I love a bit of whimsy. From here it was just a matter of catching up with LeVoisin and Cloggs before forcing my way accidentally through the end of someone’s garden next to the pub.

In the car park afterwards Iceman and I witnessed some very ungallant behaviour by Glittertits and Motox as they inspected Florence’s tailgate (on her new car). Firstly, Glittertits bent her over it while he attempted to explain its purpose to her (that’s not what it’s for, Glittertits). Then Motox sat her on it and grasped her ankles as if about to make a wish (no doubt he had already made his by this point). Base rumours that Florence was laughing like a drain during this ungentlemanly conduct should be ignored.

It may be early in the season but this was definitely a contender for ‘Hash of the Year’. The pack kept nicely together and the route was excellent. Great stuff Cloggs! On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA for the day Dumper presented the following :-



Style points


Discussing SlackBladder’s alleged cystitis. Stuart was renamed Quack for this

Mini-flouring well taken by Quack. Good slurping by OldDog


Clive Sinclair’s C5 is 20 years old today

Elegant and stunning – as ever


Our birthdays

Foggy was given a pint of baked beans to try and slow him down but still won!


Being a complete wuss (he was not well)

A good half by the invalid


Actually not moaning about the Hash, but praising it!

Damn fine attempt at the rest of the baked beans


The (excellent) Hare

Certainly better than me…

Following the Down Downs those happy few with the Lucky Dip 1 – 10 tickets were invited by Cloggs to stuff their hand in a bag of flour and bring forth a carefully wrapped gift. Number 1 (of course) was Posh who beamed with pleasure at having pulled out an interestingly shaped object. She bore it proudly over to Bomber. She carefully unwrapped it. In her elegant hand lay… a plastic dog turd. Posh is a true Hasher. Instead of tossing the curled thing aside with a ladylike squeal she placed it on her finger, extending her hand for all to admire. What a woman!

Up and Coming

Run Number


Grid Reference






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