BH³ Crew

Motormouth Hashgate PP and dog Barney NappyRash Swallow Donut Fannybag Bogbrush Headboy Roy Iceman TT2 Spex LoudonTasteless Quack Shitfor Desperate Little Stiffy SlackBladder JWax Dribbler Butterfly Motox Baldrick Flash Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby Uplift Utopia Russell Escort Caboose Cerberus BillyBullshit OldDog Centaur Nutcracker Potty Snowballs Spot Hitchiker Dunny ShutupWally Septic Dumper C5 Simple Lonely Zebedee Florence BlowJob Twanky Cheating Whinge TC Itsyor WhiteFang Dwight Scoot Julia Toby Bomber Posh Tapeworm Stripper OldFart Jon StinkingBishop Grommet TinOpener SlowSucker CIAC HeyBabe Tina Steve Linda BlouseBlazer Vlad Drac

The Wreck of the Hashsperus

Firstly, my thanks to OldDog who stepped up to the plate last week and wrote the Gobsheet – even though her son, Craig, rather insensitively broke his arm. Kids just don’t think, do they? BH³ wishes the lad all the best and recommends that, if he has to do this kind of thing, do it during school term and get time off. Poor OldDog looked rather desperate as Motormouth and I swept majestically into the sailing club car park. The kind lass was crooning Hash names into the recording machine with a rather sick look on her face, believing that she might have to write the Gobsheet for another week. It was like the sun came out when she noticed us and skipped over, beaming, before thrusting the still-warm machine into my hand. “Here you are Hashgate. I’ve recorded all the names for you.” She effused. Quite how she managed to get up to recording section 10 on the damn thing is beyond me but it made for interesting listening later on. “That may be PQ over there.” She ventured. Well was it or wasn’t it for goodness sake?! “There’s a couple of people whose names I don’t know.” Frickin’ helpful indeed madam. Section 7 was quite interesting. There was what sounded like a zip being slowly and deliberately unzipped and a kind of soft neighing before the sound swiftly cut off and the machine went on to section 8. This seeemed to cut in at the end of something for there was a distinct snorting, whinnying and clopping of hooves during which a muffled ladies’ voice (possibly Scottish) commanded, “Whoa there, big boy. Time for a ride.” Then the section intriguingly cut off. Must ask OldDog about that.


…

Now some of us were a tad fagged-out even before we started the Hash. Motormouth, PP, Diver and NappyRash had all taken part in Tough Guy (see www.toughguy.co.uk for details) on Sunday and all that rope climbing, tunnel crawling, swimming and barbed wire shimmying had rather taken its toll. I’m sure BH³ would like to offer its congrats to them for a superb effort. Particularly, Motormouth, who is actually just fifteen. I know, I can’t believe it myself. However, if you want the very best shiggy in the world Tough Guy is the place to be. TT2 and Roy have clearly stated in front of witnesses that they will be doing the event next year so I’m sure we are looking forward to seeing their results.

So – the Trail. Hmm, yes. Difficult one. Particularly since a number of us ran the damn thing backwards and didn’t see anyone else. I include the intrepid Spot, Bomber, StinkingBishop, SlowSucker, Motormouth, NappyRash, PP and Barney the dog in the lucky few. The confusion arose because of a flour arrow, which pointed back along the towpath we had just run up. Someone went down the little track that led off from the towpath and came back, then Spot (I think) found flour further up the towpath and we were off like the wind… running the On Inn backwards. Except it wasn’t the On Inn since that actually appeared on the other side of the sailing club car park. The words ‘Bugger’s’ and ‘Muddle’ come to mind. But also, since the Hash was totally confused, split into several sections that finally arrived back from several directions, and some walkers (Motox, Dumper, Flash) seemed to be doing the Long Trail at one point, you could say the evening was a resounding success. At least the Hares turned up at their own event and the club wasn’t closed.

The evening had a theme, which was “Doctor, I’m in trouble”. An interesting concept given the evident psychological problems experienced by many of our Hashers. Simple was quite lucky. He didn’t have to think up an idea. He just turned up with his arm in that sling – though I’m sure it was the other arm last week. ShutupWally appeared to be a surgeon, waving a scimitar about. Not so much Dr. Kildare as Scrubs. Dumper, for reasons best known to himself (see ‘psychological problems’, above) wore a swimming cap which pulled his forehead and eyebrows upwards, giving him an expression of permanent Oriental surprise. But the best of all was JWax, wearing a shift and twisty hair curlers, bearing a swaddled infant and obviously heavily up the duff with another. A number of eyes swivelled Baldrickwards. Blinked unbelievingly. Then swivelled back again. This fine woman even ran – in her condition! – and only managed to drop the blanketed babe once. Well done JWax. Far better than Zebedee who used the dressing-up theme as yet another excuse to wear that blasted nurse’s uniform that he likes so much.

Since Motormouth, NappyRash, PP, Barney the dog and I just ran out then turned round when we met the FRBs coming from the opposite direction I have little to tell you of interest. Perhaps the most amusing part of our exhausted trot round was the antics of Barney who may be 12 years old and somewhat white of muzzle but is as strong as an ox and idiosyncratic of character. PP and I were walking (yes, walking) through a field with him on his lead. He was straining forward, eager to go. As the field was enclosed, large and animal free (except for Barney, of course) PP slipped his lead off and exhorted him, “Off you go then, Barney”, expecting him to streak off like a canine Exocet after the nearest rabbit smell. Not a bit of it. He stayed close and mooched along beside us. We got to a stile with a steep, narrow track beyond it which I climbed over first, closely followed by Barney, lead trailing, while PP vaulted across. I picked up Barney’s lead and turned to hand it to PP as she sprang to the ground. Barney interpreted this as the signal to go and I found myself spun round and hurtling pell-mell downhill as the fellow did a fair impression of a pumped-up Husky pulling a sled-load of seal blubber across the frozen Yukon, chased by a hungry polar bear. He is a real character is our Barney. Good luck to him in the Yately 10k on Wednesday.

Not much more I can say about the Hash except to thank our ‘Doctor’ and ‘Nurse’ Hares for taking the trouble to organise the event and not being mightily peeved that just about everyone got lost.

One other thing. Nutcracker wanted to express her thanks to everyone who sponsored her for the Race for Life event. She raised £125 altogether. Well done to her and all who donated.

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

What a view over the lake from the wooden deck outside the sailing club! The globular moon shimmered almost orange in the dark velvet of the sky and scattered a rippling ribbon of subdued light across the surface of the water towards us. So much nicer to look at than RA Simple as he presented the following :-

Amazingly swift!

Up and Coming