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The Sun
Whitchurch Hill


Hashgate, Daisy

The Lucky Attendees

Honeymonster Iceman Florence Foghorn LoudonTasteless Spex Dumper Septic SlipperyNipple Bomber Posh C5 Glittertits Pissquick Motox Dutch TurdTreader OldDog SlackBladder Jenks and children Alasdair and Catherine Mother Theresa Lemming Spot HitchHiker Baldrick Cheating BGB HeyBabe Kayak Ms Whiplash Effin Krystyna Donut Zebedee ShutupWally and feisty dog Bonnie Amanda and dog Barney TrainSpotter Anorak

The Hares (Frozen) Tale

Since I was co-Hare with Daisy today I’ll write this Gobsheet from the Hare’s perspective. It’s quite a different view from taking part in the Hash. I have to report that the trail today was voted an unqualified success – nothing to do with the wonderful countryside, the fearfully sludgy shiggy, the subtle deftness of the Hares’ trail laying. No, no. We managed to lose ShutupWally who only returned as we were enjoying the Down Downs. No easy achievement but one which Daisy and I will treasure for a long time.

So here’s our method of laying a trail: 1) wait until the week before the event to check a map and figure out the probable route. 2) Be too busy to call your co-Hare to discuss this. 3) Check out a part of the trail the Monday before by driving round it. 4) Drop into the pub to ensure landlord/lady are ok to host the event (actually they couldn’t have been more friendly and it’s a lovely pub). 5) Run round parts of the trail with your co-Hare the day before the Hash. 6) Get up early on Sunday and lay the damn thing in the freezing cold. 7) Run round it all again with the Hash even though you are totally knackered. 8) Smile a lot when people complain the trail was ‘too long’ or ‘there was no flour’. 9) Glow inside when people thank you for the event, say they enjoyed the trail, laugh about getting a little lost, tell you amusing anecdotes from the day and when you are watching a warm pub full of Hashers having a damn good time.

Our morning started at -1.5o and 8:00 a.m. Daisy looked surprisingly fresh for someone who had been partying until 3:00 a.m. and she managed to drive to The Sun without falling asleep and/or sticking several early morning pigeons and bunnies to the tyres. We stepped out of the car. We nearly stepped straight back in. It was colder than a polar bear’s bum. Colder than a marble washstand in the Arctic. Colder than... Well, it was blood-coagulatingly cold. In fact, with a fierce wind chill reducing the temperature by another 5o or so it was a tad nippy. Our tiny hands were frozen. Daisy had sensibly opted for industrial-strength underwear beneath several layers of long-sleeved T-shirts and running tights and remained cosy beneath two pairs of directoires over cerise pink Bridget Jones ‘big knickers’, topped off with corsetry that could contain a charging rhino and two pairs of lisle stockings. It was like following the Michelin lady carrying a plastic bag full of flour. We set to the cold task and finished the last bit for the Short trailers mainly by car. A wonderful way to lay the trail – drive along with the window open, flinging handfuls of flour while keeping a wary eye for walkers who might be miffed at a faceful of McDougall’s.

Our first check was highly successful when Bomber, Zebedee and most of the pack fell for the old ‘it always goes this way’ routine. A number fell for the old ‘let’s follow the walkers’ routine – then returned crestfallen from the False. Lemming added to the joyful atmosphere with a mighty stamp in the middle of an ice-covered puddle. Incredible how fast some people can run isn’t it? As the Pack stumped off Cloggs and NonStick appeared, Cloggs with the Hash Sheep who dived into my flour bag to emerge with a faceful of the stuff before bounding off with a manic “Baaaa!” – the Sheep, that is. The trail took a meander through some self-satisfied suburbia and a swing by the recreation ground before heading out into open, sun-bright, wind-chilled country where Jenks trotted with his two hardy children and Dutch and Krystyna snuggled deeper into their protective swaddlings. The Hash began to spread out. Always a problem, this. The FRBs can cope but the middle-order Hashers, back-markers, walkers and lightly injured (i.e. no major limbs missing) need a little chivvying and coaxing to stay together. This means the most stupid Hare (me) has to run like bu**ery to try and catch up with the FRBs while the other, more sensible Hare (Daisy) has to coax and chivvy like a sheepdog with a flock of individually-minded sheep. A contradiction in terms, I realise, but a reasonable comparison, particularly since Daisy’s father is the good Shep.

Having caught up with the middle-order Hashers I was privileged to enjoy the sight of a gaggle of Hash ladies including Spex, Septic, Donut, Mother Theresa, Posh, PissQuick, SlipperyNipple and new Aussie girl Jools getting caught out by our carefully laid bar check 200 metres down the trail. The FRBs had disappeared by now and I only saw them again at the wind-chilled Regroup atop that damn great hill. They huddled in a serried bunch like Antarctic penguins, wibbling and quarking, anxious to be on their way. I let the poor cold souls depart, watching amazed as everyone but Zebedee went the right way. He trotted ½ mile in the opposite direction. Then trotted back with a somewhat fixed grin. Anorak suddenly appeared, having started 20 minutes late (just as well we were arrowing the checks) droned on about her 84 minute PB in the Wokingham ½ Marathon and shot off like a tawny-haired ferret who’s just spied a particularly juicy rat on the horizon. Which left Effin, PissQuick and NonStick, who was attempting to extricate a nail from his running shoe. How it got there we dunno but he managed to sort it out and ran off, leaving me with two charming companions for most of the rest of the trail. We had a pleasant jog and chat, a walk and a chat and a gentle trot and a chat through the leafless forest until we popped out near Goring Heath ex-Post Office and met SlipperyNipple, LoudonTasteless, Spex and Septic coming down the road. Amazingly, we then bumped into co-Hare Daisy with a couple of other slackers more sedate Hashers and made our way slowly back to the pub, spotting HeyBabe and Jools emerging smilingly from an uphill footpath where no trail had been laid…

Things To Remember For The Future

  1. Three hours is not enough time to lay a reasonable length trail. Next time we’ll lay a short one - and we’ll do it in the summer…

  2. Do NOT stand next to a puddle of freezing water if Lemming is running towards you.

  3. Give all the walkers a map of the area, not just one of them (sorry Dutch).

  4. Despite one’s best efforts the FRBs will always not see one of the carefully placed checks.

  5. Next time choose a much older, less fit and attractive co-Hare. It’ll make me look better…

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

Joint RA Dumper presented the following :-



Style points


Interrupting the RA

½ pint of cold water gasped/thrown down


Awarded the Hash sheep for appearing with coffee on a tray

Accepted with all the grace of a dedicated x-dresser

Ms Whiplash

Demanding soup and bread rolls from the landlord!

Sucked and swallowed like a true pro…


Today’s virgin

Stunning chugging by our new Antipodean friend


Pacemaking Dumper

Only a half. Woof! It was gone!

Glittertits, PissQuick, NonStick

2x100 runs and 50 runs. Congratulations.

Jolly fine by all


Getting back very late

Not bad for a knackered Hasher

Daisy, Hashgate

The Hares

Well Daisy did ok…

Up and Coming

Run Number


Grid Reference






The Royal Oak, Westwood Glen Tilehurst





The Bell and Bottle, Shinfield

Various Harriettes

Next Moonlight Hash March 25th at Ms. Whiplash. Please let her know if you are going or she’ll give you a damn good thrashing.