Guys and Dolls (well one in particular)

Vlad Drac BlowJob Tina Hashgate Trembler OldDog Loudon Tasteless Spex Motox PP Diver and dog Barney Centaur Honeymonster Baldrick Simple Dunny Matt C5 Roy Spot Iceman J-Wax Shandyman Chopstix cerberus BillyBullshit Desperate Shitfor Mother Theresa Lemming Hilary Twanky Grommet StinkingBishop Florence Zebedee Flash Fritz BouncingCzech

The Great Elk Memorial Hash

Some years ago BH³ said goodbye to The Great Elk aka Dave Almond aka Hamish. And aka to Lemming and Shep (who would take the mickey out of anyone) as The Grey Elf, since he was not particularly tall and was greying at the temples. Hamish was very true to the Hashing tradition. For fifteen years from 1982 he greatly enjoyed the running, the cycling (at the Bashes, which he revived), and the arsing about. As you can see from the picture. He was GM between 1991–1993. This was a bloke who bought a large set of red deer antlers, spent what must have been a fascinating evening with Motox attaching them to a crash helmet, then wore the contraption while Hashing. Simple tried the thing on at the Down Downs – it weighed a good few kilos and the antlers were at least three feet long. Only a true Hasher would even contemplate the idea. So let’s raise a beer to The Great Elk; sadly gone but certainly not forgotten.

And never to be forgotten too was the sight of BlowJob at the enjoyable drinks and buffet session later in the community hall doing a too-perfect impression of a blow-up doll. Either she has been practising for a long time or the damn things are based on her expression and arms raised forward from the elbows. It was really quite disturbing and made one wonder whether she really did get her name because of her hairdressing abilities.

A couple of Hashers who are not too concerned whether Blowjob has any hairdressing abilities are Vlad and Drac who, I hope, won’t mind if I liken certain parts of their anatomies to billiard balls. No, not those parts. The lads are tonsorially streamlined. The usual problem is that none of us can tell which is Vlad and which which is Drac since they are so alike. But today we were lucky since Vlad had done his back in (simple but familiar tale – bent forwards and twisted while sucking the blood from the neck of a sleeping young woman – can happen to anybody) so was not only walking but wearing stouter clothing than usual. It was quite amusing to note that he had on an expensive (black, of course!) waterproof but breathable jacket with a rather flash name logo written on the sleeve. Presumably the garment was crafted in his home country since it appeared to read ‘Igore-Tex’.

The Hash started at a very rapid pace. So rapid that Roy and I found ourselves almost at the very back. Though the rest of the Pack had hurtled like a beer Stop-seeking missile straight on we noticed BouncingCzech climbing over a gate into a field and decided to follow. Before BlouseBlazer swiftly admonished us. “She’s going for a pee!” he squeaked, urgently. Ooer. Roy and I blushed and sped after the Pack, only just catching up with Mother Theresa as she skittered forwards through some shiggy in that shuffling style of hers. Also skittering forwards, though round the shiggy, was Diver who had forgotten to bring a change of shoes and wished to avoid the post-Hash trench foot syndrome. Mind you, with her track record she was going to be lucky. Even Barney, who likes a bit of a splash, is hard put to beat her record in the mud-wallowing stakes. But fair play to our Diver, she is running her first ½ Marathon in Reading next week to raise money for Bishopswood School. We wish her all the best. Particularly since she’s got to drag her dad, that raddled old transvestite NappyRash round with her!

There were more than one or two long, straight tracks leading through various foresty bits and Spot and I followed Billy along them before I rather stupidly decided to investigate a short False that led off a couple of metres into the trees. When I got back I found myself running with new boy, Matt. He is currently Simple’s lodger, the poor sod, after having been reduced to an empty husk by Gusset, with whom he was staying earlier. The lad was running very well, despite wearing either shorts that were too long for him, or trousers that were too short. He proved to be something of a prophet too. As I gasped away beside his barely breathing form he looked over at the darkening sky to our right. “Bit of rain coming.” He offered. “I Like running in a bit of rain.” 2.3 seconds later it was hailing. Great! Of all the people to run with I have to get Ian McbloodyCaskill on a ‘think I’ll tempt fate and see what happens’ day. We streamed onwards, white Coco Pops bouncing all around us, until we caught up with Spot by a large van which bore the legend that was guaranteed to get Spex a tad hot under the collar. ‘Mobile Youth Provision’, it said. Her eyes shone. This was much better than meals on Wheels. I guess you could say she was Spexually excited.

A lot of mileage clicked over on the old Hashometer as we plunged through thick forest, tripped lightly along tracks and shot through the shiggy before suddenly appearing in the middle of suburban splendour. Which is where BlouseBlazer started leading the Pack. Curious but actually quite welcome. For, by this time, we were getting a mite thirsty and we knew the beer Stop couldn’t be far away. It wasn’t. But we had to beast up a fairly steep, long alley after Drac and StinkingBishop before the welcome sight of Motox and a bevy of beauties that included Hilary, J-Wax, Chopstix and the shiny bottles of beer cheered us. Hilary, last week’s virgin with the fairly athletic body informed a breathless me that she had so far enjoyed, “a brisk walk.” So very glad she was enjoying the exercise. In the sudden and warming sunshine break that followed Motox told us about The Great Elk, who had lived in a nearby house, and we drank a toast to the fellow. Then the more mentally challenged, with much burping and “Pardon me’s” rushed off on the uphill track; more than a little desperate to finish the bloody Hash and get tucked into the food and drink. Thus it was that the more intelligent Hilary strode purposefully onward, intent on getting as much benefit from the Walker’s Trail as was humanely possible.

Actually, I remember very little of the trail after the Beer Stop apart from getting it horribly wrong at one point, then having to run like the Roadrunner to try and catch up. It really is quite incredible how fast the Pack can move – when there’s food and beer at stake. The last part of the trail was on flat tarmac which meant that we could really start motoring. Interesting the contrast between fields and woodlands stumbling, slipping and balancing, and the sure-footed speed you can get up to on-road. But you can’t beat off-road for Hashing, can you? Nice trail, Hares. One that Hamish would have very much enjoyed.

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Simple presented the following :-

Not bad for someone with an Elsa Lanchester hair-do and the speech pattern of Boris Karloff…

Simple presented Mother Theresa with the Hash umbrella. Why, you may ask. Umm. No idea. Sorry.

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