Cottagers…

Hamlet and dog Chad Andrew Hashgate Twanky Ruth Mark Chopstix Shandyman Spot HitcHiker Peter Robert Potty Nutcracker Snowballs Iceman TurdTreader ShitShoveller PoisonedChalice Chris DunnyStumbler Lemming Mother Theresa Septic Dumper C5 Honeymonster Lilo and dog Emma TinOpener ScarletPimpernel Spex LoudonTasteless SlowSucker Jeremy Diane Barry Nicky Betsy Flash Bomber Dutch Donut SillyCow BlouseBlazer Foghorn Cheating TT2 Zebedee WhiteFang Lonely Florence Aqua Anorak2 Anorak TrainSpotter Dwight Julia Sam and other little sproglet Baldrick Whinge TC Incider with dogs Kundun and Baldrick and finally… Motox

It’s Simple. There’s a Long Trail.

At Dumper and Septic’s excellent Moonlight Hash on Friday Trailmaster C5 announced that poor DunnyStumbler had been knocked off her bike and would be unable to help Simple lay the trail (I’m glad to say she is not badly hurt) so could he please have a volunteer to help. ShutupWally’s hand shot skywards like a five-fingered rocket and he exploded vocally into a sparkly shower of, “Me. Me. I’ll do it. I can show Simple how to lay the trail. I volunteer!” Largely to shut him up we elected him immediately. “Should we tell Simple before he turns up d’you think?” We queried with a smirk. “Nah. It’ll be a nice surprise for him.” We all agreed, smirking ever more broadly. I suppose we should have realised that one bad turn deserves another. Simple’s trail was, well, thorough. We covered more terrain than a migratory albatross and with considerably more effort. And we looked a damn sight more knackered by the time we finished. I’m surprised the death toll through exhaustion wasn’t higher. We must give well-earned praise to ShutupWally’s brave little dog, Bonnie, who ran all the way round the looping, twisting trail on Saturday and then ran round quite a lot of it again on Sunday – all the while putting up with the incessant squawking inanities of her master. She ought to be renamed Patience.

A huge number of people turned up and filled the field behind the pub with cars. This included Chris who ran once before with us a few weeks ago. I notice he still hasn’t had his full leg tattoo completely finished. He really must get this done. It’s beginning to irk. Also new girl Betsy who we may never see again since during the Hash Lemming waved The Sheep at her in a particularly suggestive manner and afterwards she was pounced on by several male members of BH³ who essayed hackneyed chat up lines such as, “I’ve got all me own teef yer know.” And, “What’s a hottie like you doing with us old reprobates? Hmmm? Ding dong.” In best Leslie Phillips style. Let’s hope she wasn’t too put off. She certainly took the mud-slinging in her (rather fast) stride. And mud there was aplenty. Torrential rain had filled the puddles and produced some spectacular shiggy of which Foghorn, Chopstix and Lemming took full advantage, Chopstix in particular looking like the Creature From The Black Lagoon. (not facially, of course).

Today’s picture depicts what a nice, clean sheep should look like. It is a confident sheep at ease with itself, proud of it’s well-fluffed woolly fleece. Following a couple of hours on the end of Lemming’s fist (don’t go there) the BH³ sheep looked like a raddled victim of severe shiggy abuse, nasal botts and prolonged rogering. He carefully passed the blackened, dripping, drooping form to Spex who accepted it reluctantly between thumb and forefinger at arms’ length. Let’s hope she gives the poor thing a good hot bath and some TLC.

So, to the trail. 50 minutes to the Regroup via thicket and scrub, thorn and shiggy. Ooer! Largely at a breackneck pace except where particularly complicated Checks foxed even the most experienced of FRBs. The problem stemmed from the myriad of choices at some Checks although this certainly enabled the rest of the Pack to catch up and enjoy the sight of the confused FRBs running backwards and forwards like chickens with avian flu.One person we didn’t see was Cheating who, as usual, opted for his own trail and found himself totally out of touch with Simple’s. We didn’t see him again until after the Hash.So that worked out quite well then. In fact, even substitute Hare ShutupWally became lost; as did our revered Trail Meister, C5. But everyone turned up safely, if very late (Twanky!) in the end.

Now I must report a singularly vicious attack on that doyen of respectability and humility, Lemming. The little fellow had accidentally splashed rather a large number of people with mud, including SlowSucker who isn’t deeply enamoured of muck and mire about his person. The resulting professional foul saw Lemming tripped and crashing to the ground shin first. Spot and I stayed with him while he rolled about in (obviously mock) agony and gave him a further bit of a booting while no-one was looking. Purely to move the pain from one place to another you understand. We were just doing him a favour. Luckily, the lad struggled to his feet (with no help from us, of course – didn’t want to dent his self-confidence) and limped off with the wet Sheep dangling forlonly from his limp wrist. I’m glad to say he was seen running slowly later. So, no change there, then.

The Pack hurtled onwards through wet forest and damp vegetation to stop briefly at a Check on a narrow road where we had been before. The options were up left, or down right with tracks leading left and right. Spot called after me as I went left towards a nice green field, “All the years I’ve been Hashing it’s never gone that way.” And he has over 500 Hashes under his belt. He was right. It still didn’t go that way. Simple was pleased that someone gave it a try, though. The trail actually went steeply up a track covered in sticky yet slippery shiggy and I followed the shoe-sucking progress of Potty as he laboured up the thing. There were, of course, those who sneaked round the side including our own dear GM, Spex. I’ll put it down to a triumph of intelligence over the need to show off – and further tire already complaining quadriceps. It was just after this as we staggered onwards, gasping for air that Incider appeared, looking very clean and tidy and being led by her two faithful hounds. Not sure how she did that but it was very impressive.

We then reached Simple’s POI. The letters foxed many and there was a lot of head-scratching and chin rubbing as we struggled to find their meaning. “Pi** Off Incider” was mentioned. “Piles Of Irritation”. “Pink Or Indigo” . Simple explained it as if to three-year olds; “Point Of Interest” he said slowly, leading us to a view of Bucklebury Park Farm land where a large herd of fallow, roe, red and muntjack deer were surrounding a trailer full of mums and kids. They were obviously out to try a bit of carniverous brunch. Makes a change from bark and sapling I guess. We christened it ‘The Deer Stop’.

The rest was rather a blur. Bar Checks, Two Way Checks, ordinary Checks, long tree-lined runs, people’s gardens, DunnyStumbler bravely cantering. Foghorn, Chopstix and Shandyman jumping in puddles. Mark, Zebedee and BlouseBlazer leading us through wetlands. Running with Andrew across that area of cleared scrub. Eyeing the smiling Simple sardonically as we met while still running hard miles from the pub. Stopping with Peter at the main road even though the petrol coming our way was a good ¼ of a mile off – then agreeing with a grin that it was a good opportunity for a brief rest. A last gasp stagger through wet bushes with the tattooed Chris before finally seeing the On Inn with a sob of relief. A stumble through the grass clumps to the car and a smile at the cosy sight of Spot and HitchHiker sitting in the tailgate of the car sharing a hot coffee and a gossip about the price of fish.

Fine trail Simple, and you did manage to get ShutupWally lost. Well done! On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

Stand-in RA LoudonTasteless (yet another bid to add to his powerbase) beat Simple’s previous RA marathon by miles with the longest session ever ‘enjoyed’ by BH³.

Dunny beat the lads easily

Up and Coming