The Fast, The Slow and the Knackered

AintGotNone DribbleDick Florence Hashgate Honeymonster Cheating Quack Baldrick Dutch Donut Lyn ScarletPimpernel Lucy Shandyman Chopstix TA Iceman OldF*rt Potty SlackBladder Simple DunnyStumbler Vlad Drac Spot Hitchiker BlouseBlazer Dumper PoisonedChalice PiemanIceman Ms Whiplash J Margaret Dave OldDog NutCracker Snowballs C5 BillyBullsh*t Mr Blobby Utopia Uplift Paul Twanky Motox Glittert*ts P*ssQuick Nigel Samantha TinOpener Itsyor Cloggs McGoose

Woodland Wanderings

It’s been a pretty busy week for BH³. Monday’s Hash at Antony Worral-Thompson’s latest venture was quickly followed by the first ever (as far as I am aware) Summer Solstice Sunrise Hash on Wednesday and the Fun Run on Sunday. Congratulations are very much due to Spot and the (extremely) early risers who gathered at 4:30am to trot round the trail in a relaxed manner, not see the sunrise due to heavy cloud (and even heavier eyelids) eat the strawberries and cream in the Roman Amphitheatre and still had time to drive home and crawl gratefully back into bed. It certainly worried my cat (currently in serious training as a Sumo cat – this consists of eating and sleeping as much as possible) when Motormouth and I crept into the dark kitchen at 3:30am and he cranked up a surprised eyelid uttering, “Wossermarrer?” in Felinese before sinking back into a deep slumber, legs in the air, head back and tongue out. Not unlike the worthy Sh*tfor I am given to understand. Then came the Fun Run, on a hot and airless morning with lots of people, including a couple of non-Hashers who just fancied their chances in the race having viewed the geriatric stumblings of the early starters and the fusillade of joint cracklings as certain people tried in vain to stretch. The race, though no less bodily painful than usual, was good fun and the male and female winners were TT2 and DunnyStumbler, respectively. No complaints about the handicapping there. However, Spex positively burned up the trail roadrunner-style and gasped in at second place – her handicap of 9 minutes (yes, 9 minutes!) may have helped. Perhaps a review of that next year, Motox? Motox it was who organised the whole thing and laid the trail. A very well done for that. And an extremely well done to Glittert*ts, P*ssQuick, Su (have I got that right?), Motox and helpers who laid on an almighty feast and booze-up at chez Twigg Towers for the second time in as many weeks. Don’t underestimate the work that goes into providing a relaxed, ambient outdoor bash. It’s very much appreciated by all of us in BH³. Thankyou.

Let’s write something about tonight’s Hash. It started well, with both TinOpener and myself totally unable to go far enough along the main road from the pub to find the car park. We finally figured out where it was and picked up the already exhausted figures of AintGotNone, the delightfully named DribbleDick and John, who had all heeded Spex’s car thieves warning and mistakenly parked at the pub – a good mile or so down the road. When we arrived there were loads of people milling about as well as a small pack of trained thugs out to mug anybody they found in the forest fine body of young air cadets preparing to learn woodland skills. One of them, unfortunately, later learned what it’s like to lie in the mud waiting for an ambulance after a minor accident in the brush. Ms Whiplash, though not waiting for an ambulance, seemed also to have had an accident in the brush as the Pack streamed past her while she hurriedly hoisted various flannel unmentionables, snapped a number of elasticated items back into place and rejoined us, cursing silently at the chafings of badly adjusted pvc. Given the convoluted twistings, Bars and Checks of the early part of the trail it was mildly surprising but very nice to find Uplift, Utopia and Motox FRBing like good uns for a while. I must mention Itsyor, who was the only Hasher honest enough to get caught out by the Fishook and actually return to the rear of the Pack. This early part of the trail was littered with enigma and confusion which served to keep the Pack together well and give all the Fun Runners a bit of a well-earned rest now and again. Though we might query LoudonTasteless’ penchant for laying small, lightly dusted Checks behind large trees a couple of metres into the woods at the side of the trail covered in camouflage netting. Still, he was gentleman enough to point them out after only most of the Pack had missed them completely. And he did leadeth us by quiet shiggy after Chopstix and I somewhat lost our way while leading the Pack through a sunken area of what can only be described as ‘sog’. Both she and I had dipped a plimsoll in it and the experience of the odour that spurted nostrilwards can only be likened to stuffing one’s head up a dead dogs bum. Not surprising that we lost our way for a while.

Now Dumper is not a person you would describe in terms of ‘a few bricks short of a load’, so it was with some surprise that Glitytert*ts and I came upon him ‘palely loitering’ next to a large and murky puddle. Surprising how much water a body the size of mine can displace from a height of two feet. I left him dripping like a trawlerman in a Force-10. Mind you, Lady Fate had smirkingly repaid me (Dumper will be glad to know). Going in with feet together forms a kind of a funnel that starts at the ankles and ends… well I’m sure you can figure it out. Let’s just say it was a tad damp in the Trussocks for the rest of the evening. Speaking of things Scottish it was very nice to see Pieman return to us after several years of enforced absence. He didn’t look any different at all to me. Or maybe we are all just growing older at the same rate.

Of the two Regroups the first was the funniest. Firstly, Cloggs could make no sense of anything anyone was saying and no-one could understand her either. She seemed to think Iceman had his shoes on backwards! It was great fun but rather like playing with a friendly sheep. After a while you realise there’s just nothing in there. Nothing at all. Secondly, Spex reportedly gleefully that she had found the pedometer she had dropped off her drawers earlier while, erm, watering the flowers during the trail laying. Slightly too much information and nothing could persuade me to Check out that direction when we restarted. Trotting past the police college signs brought forth the interesting information from OldF*rt and Motox (where do they get this stuff?) that police dogs are trained to go for the, um, cobblers. Cerberus, not for the first time, confirmed her interest in things canine and se*ual by stating brazenly, “I’d like to see that.” This from the woman who has said she would like to see me r*gered by Jenks’ curly hound and who herself was mounted by Lonely’s vast dog, Beaver, in a public place. Perhaps a spot of counselling?

Simple had obviously taken a soggy leaf out of my book for, as he approached a vast, deep, dank and rank puddle behind his good lady Dunny he also took a mighty leap into its middle with the intention of soaking her. Notwithstanding that this was tantamount to assisted suicide he had also underestimated the effect of his 18 stone force on its 18 gallon contents. Perhaps it was the gaseous, long dead donkey lying bloated and grinning on the bottom that released a septic tankful of stomach-churning stench into the atmosphere, almost knocking several followers off their feet. Thank goodness the next Regroup, on top of a small mesa admidst the cleared forest, was upon us. This was where Spot’s description of our lead Hare’s stopping point as ‘Mount Spex’ was entirely misinterpreted. We On Outed rapidly, laughing. Now you may think of Lucy as the quiet, blonde member of ScarletPimpernel’s harem. C5 and I know different. During a fast cruise on the last leg down a narrow path with Margaret, C5 and Samantha, and noticing that I was about to overtake her, the little minx stuck out a foot in a deliberate and unprovoked attack, catching my foot and causing first me and then C5, as I grabbed him for support, to hurtle t’wards yonder knotty tree and an almost certain Baldrick. Luckily, our combined screams and instinct for self-preservation just averted the tragedy and we continued onward, albeit some way behind the fearsome Lucy who was uttering some unbelievably foul invective at the scratching brambles. Amazing what you find out about people on the Hash isn’t it?

Damn it. Run out of space again. I shall have to start writing this in 2 point font. Thanks Hares. We had a fine and fun run – the second in two days then! On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Simple presented the following amidst the midges and biting gnats:-

Smooth – like his head

Up and Coming