Tired People

Honeymonster Pissquick Glittertits Su Donut Hashgate Shutupwally and rat Bonnie Twanky Hamlet Fukawe Motox Slackbladder Little Stiffy Spot LoudonTasteless Spex Hitchiker Ms Whiplash Salome BGB Caboose Iceman Cerberus Billy Bullshit Desperate Shitfor CIAC Heybabe Dunny Andy Dave Katy Jenks Catherine and dog Dylan Itsyor Fiddler Charlotte Pippa Joe Snowballs Gnomealone OldDog Cloggs Nonstick Cheating

If I Had To Do It All Over Again… I Wouldn’t

Firstly, my thanks to Billy who stepped gamely into the breach last week and penned a Gobsheet the like of which has not been seen before. Bernard Levin in his prime would have doffed his cap before the master had he read this epitome of matchless, effortlessly acrobatic prose. V.S. Naipul will probably hang up his writing boots and fall to floor in a swoon of ecstasy after reading these words, laid magically on the unworthy page like the brushstrokes of an artist creating a masterpiece. After all, who would ever have described Desperate’s eyes as being like ‘twelve-year old walnuts’? Sparklingly hazel with a breath-taking glint of feline attractiveness perhaps. But not ‘twelve-year old walnuts’. That description would apply more precisely to Billy’s wizened gonads.

“Oh, go on. Just a bit more.” Wheedled Nappyrash to PP and Barney. “No. You’ve had enough.” Advised PP severely. “Woof!” Agreed Barney. It’s a common problem with virgin solo Hares that they always want to lay a bit more trail, just another loop. Like John Cleese to Mr. Creosote, “Just a waffer-thin mint’ before the inevitable explosion. ¾ of the way along this Trail we too felt like we had exploded, hit the wall, run out of energy, legpower and the will to live. Some years ago Greenfly laid a Trail in this area that had strong Hashers weeping, gnashing their teeth (those who had any) and wondering how soon to dusk. This was very similar…

… GGGNNNAAAAAHHHH!! To the way I now feel, having left the first paragraph to do PP’s circuit training class. Hellfire! Even one of Ms Whiplash’s sessions (ask Spot) has nothing on one of these – and circuits are a lot cheaper. You’ve got to feel sorry for Nappyrash. He’s married to her. She was telling me tonight that even Barney, the fittest dog on the Hash, was completely knackered after Sunday’s little jaunt. Apparently, he’s usually the first to spring up in the morning, eager for walkies. Yesterday morning, Easter Monday, PP stiff-legged it downstairs (yep, even she was knackered too) and called out to him. The canine equivalent of, “You must be bloody joking.” issued from the forlorn Barney who was slumped in his basket, tongue hanging out and a variety of legs akimbo.

Itsyor and Fiddler got our ‘Latecomers of the Week’ award by driving right into the centre of the Circle just as BGB drew his first breath, a single inspirational comma in this weeks harangue that actually saw him (believe it!) kissed briefly by an attractive Hash visitor (female, and surprisingly without dog and stick). After a bit of a chat from his car window, Itsyor decided to go and park. Which was a good thing since we were all freezing in the stiff breeze, despite the surprisingly bright sky.

We On Outed in the direction we expected. At least, Donut and I expected it because we had driven down my road just a mile or so away and had noted several blobs, a Check and a False. Very helpful. Thankyou very much. We discussed the highly attractive idea of staying in my house with a hot coffee and a hobnob until the mud-spattered Hash spluttered past but finally (and very reluctantly) decided that we ought to start at the beginning. It wasn’t long before we splotted and slopped our mud-spattered way up that well-known (to me, anyway) shiggy-strewn bridle path, turned right across a field even more full of clinging shiggy and deep puddles and enjoyed the sight of Billy and BGB going the wrong way While Caboose, Joe and I headed for the road where I live! Local knowledge is a wonderful thing. Though it can be daunting. I figured we’d head for The Bottle and Glass and the woods beyond. Ooer, I thought, at least another couple of miles in the wrong direction. I tried not to think about the loop and way back – it was just too depressing and I didn’t think I had enough glycogen to keep the legs going. Even the fit Katy stopped me in the soggy forest and asked if I’d carry her. I had been rather hoping that she might carry me. Luckily, a Regroup appeared. Or rather a cluster of Regroups. There seemed to be about three RG’s dotted about and Hashers approached it from all directions with BGB, of course, approaching it from a different direction to everyone else. How does he do that? With ineffable timing the walkers and Short Trailers appeared just about the same time as the Long Trailers. Nicely done, our virgin Hares.

Oh, what a long trail the Long Trail was from there. There was even a Short and Long after we had gone over the hill and then come back across Crowsley Park – which BGB saw and committed to in barely ½ a second. (Fool)Hardy people like Glittertits, Dunny, Cerberus and Shitfor took the longer option which was very pleasant through the fields of horses and the copse and the veg. field and along the road then through the next field and up the sloping next bloody field to where Cerberus and I caught up with the sensibly walking Slackbladder and Little Stiffy. From here it just felt like a real slog, even though the sun shone beautifully and the air was as keen as a freshly honed scythe. We caught up with HeyBabe and Donut. Katy and Pippa (I think). Su trotted along. I knew exactly where we were but that didn’t really help when I also knew we had another twenty minutes of leg-pounding running to do. Still, it was pleasant to think that NappyRash had done it all twice this morning…

Finally, Caversham Park Village, the striding Motox, Snowballs and Iceman appeared. I let Iceman guide me back to the car park and we engaged in pleasant conversation about worn-out running shoes. I must say that I felt just as mud-spattered and worn-out as what is left of my running shoes looked. Time for a new pair. And maybe some new legs while I’m at it. Talking of new shoes, how did Twanky get away with wearing those lurid yellow, brand new running shoes today? Perhaps I might get away with it too…

Got to say thankyou Hares. It was flipping long (8½ miles reckoned NappyRash) but we enjoyed it nonetheless. And the sunshine and clear air were a real bonus. Word of advice for next time, though. Chop two miles off and stick in some Bar Checks to keep the Pack together. Now where’s that hob nob?

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

Glittertits stood in the freezing cold and presented the following :-

She quite a practised swallower

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