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The Elvetham
Hartley Wintney


Shutupwally, TA, Honeymonster

Lotus Eaters

Donut Swallow Hashgate Spot Hitchiker Cerberus LoudonTasteless Spex Dumper OldDog C5 Slowsucker Motox BGB Scarlet Pimpernel Mrs Pimp Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby Tinopener Lilo and dog Emma Florence Zebedee Iceman Glittertits Pissquick Twanky OldFart Lonely Itsyor Cheating Shitfor Penny Pitstop Shitshoveller Karen

Hash of The Year?

Yes. That’s the title this week. Wally had served us up a feast of a Hash on a silver platter complete with manna in aspic, trotters á la Greque and lobster bisque. The Trail itself, of course, was crap. But the location and the aprés Hash food was breathtaking. The Elvetham is a grandiose mansion in the château (crikey, it’s time-consuming putting in all these accents and circumflexes!) style that surveys a lordly 35 acres of well-manicured grounds and the interior is a triumph of soaring ceilings, carved wood staircases and coats-of-arms fireplaces. The name, ‘Elvetham’ means ‘swan meadow in the angle of two rivers’ in Anglo-Saxon and the place is mentioned in the Domesday book – which probably means that some of our Hashers remember it being built. The picture shows the rear of this ancient pile and this is where we enjoyed our delightful buffet and drinks; in the kind of pleasant English weather rarely experienced in these damp isles. That most of us were dressed in jeans and Hash T-shirts, with a smattering of shorts (very smart, Lonely) did nothing to detract from the event and the welcoming staff were friendly and eager to please. So much so that one of them even carried Zebedee’s plate out for him! Perhaps he was pushing things a bit too far.

Talking of Zebedee I must mention poor Florence, who was trying to eat one-handed, the forearm and wrist of the other being swathed in the kind of supporting bandage not long ago seen on Blowjob who had also broken her wrist. Flo had been out recce’ing the Trail that she and C5 are to lay soon when she slipped over and went down on her arm (while walking!). Despite the pain she insisted on attending the Wednesday Whinger’s beanfeast in the evening, reckoning that a meal already paid for is a meal that should be eaten. BH3 wishes her a speedy recovery and trusts that those lovely calves of hers won’t get too flabby while she is waiting to be able to run again.

Not only was the run the first of the Sunday morning Hashes but it was the first in the reign of the newly crowned GM Slowsucker. Rather appropriate that it should be at such a royal venue and it did seem only correct that new RA Glittertits later addressed him at the Down Downs as ‘Your Eminence’. Wikipedia offers the meaning of the word ‘eminence’ as, ‘A position of great distinction or superiority’. How true. It also offers, ‘A projection or protuberance from the surface of a body part’. So perhaps we should just address Slowsucker as ‘Dick’. He at least managed an almost perfect Circle as we Gathered Round as well as managing to remember the number of the Run and proferring a little humour that brought forth a few titters.

It was actually rather surprising that this Hash was laid at all, bearing in mind that TA had a fairly badly crocked ankle and Honeymonster was suffering not only from the aftermath of an arthroscopy but also the effects of a blood clot on his lung – full marks, Honeymonster, for even being there! And, again, BH3 sends its speedy recovery wishes. And to you too TA.

The Trail was an interesting mix of estate grounds (beautifully tailored), rutted fields and tracks (a bit Oxfam shop), and gnarly, hilly forests (hair shirt). The latter provided us with some expectant wry humour since we knew that the Bash Trail covered part of the same ground, although we managed to meet only one chap on a bike. We didn’t know him and he didn’t know us but he seemed to think he was on the Bash and he was lost – so he probably was, on the Bash, if you catch my drift. The Pack kept fairly well together despite the narrow woodland trails, shiggy and confusing Checks. It was probably due to the general state of debilitation of most Hashers. C5 informed me this was his fifth run in five days and that he had got well and truly plastered the night before. Though it didn’t seem to stop him running faster than me :-(

Knowing that the gamekeepers on the estate are a little itchy with their trigger fingers Cerberus and I let BGB go and check out the Trail past a sign that very clearly stated that the land was private, not to be trespassed upon and even though there was a Church nearby trespassers would certainly not be forgiven even as they lead others into temptation. Spex also provided an interesting anthropological insight into her character as we pushed our single-file way through clumps of all-enveloping flora in the wood. “I’ll be wearing full leathers next time.” She leered, with a wink at me. The thought of her slim body zipped into one of those huge, Second World War flying suits, complete with helmet and goggles while crashing through thick, squeaky undergrowth was a thought I treasured for a full five minutes (see left for a picture of Amilea Earhart’s flying suit). Although the conversation I had later with Glittertits was perhaps the most surreal of the morning. What began as a jocular, off-hand comment by me that Donut had left Swallow miles behind after pushing her into the shiggy and running off like a demented hyena turned into a (it seemed to me) serious discussion on how we might persuade a number of our female Hashers to take part in multiple naked tag-team mud (or possibly jelly) wrestling! I know. Worrying isn’t it? The male psyche really has never grown up has it? I can only apologize for our appalling sexism and make the offer that if any ladies would actually care to take part in the naked tag-team etc then Glittertits and I would, reluctantly of course, take on the demanding role of refereeing.

Wally, Honeymonster, TA. We doff our caps at your splendid efforts and organization. The bar is obscenely high. Which Hares can bound up to it and Fosbury Flop their way over? Can it be done?

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

New RA Glittertits presented halves (well, the beer was very expensive) to the following. While Wally spouted entertainingly and presented Mrs Blobby with a hugely expensive prize for winning the ‘Spot the Wally/Wall-E Difference’ competition.



Style points


A welcome returnee

A little spillage but she’s out of practise


Our bird with a broken wing

It didn’t slow her down a bit!


Caring not a jot about her poorly husband

Very ladylike – perfect for the surroundings


Appearing despite man flu (Motox had it too)

Wish I could drink that fast without man flu!


His Eminence had left some lost property on his car wheel

Fast sucker


300 Runs! Well done Lonely

Well deserved and enjoyed.

Donut, Swallow

Allegedly fighting over, um, me!

A fine Swallow and Zeb assisted Donut with the other

Wally, Honeymonster

Our Hares

Honeymonster by a neck

Up and Coming



Grid Reference






The Fox, Hermitage RG18 9RB

C5, Florence




Shiplake Memorial Hall
Memorial Avenue,
Shiplake RG9 4DW
(Food provided.
Bring own drink, glass, opener)