Alpaca Fools

I wasn’t intending to write the Gobsheet, but in the absence of many of the regular hashers I got roped into fulfilling two other roles. So a special three for the price of two offer:-

The Greyhound in Whitchurch doesn’t have a very big car park so the arriving hashers parked along the roadside providing unexpected entertainment obstruction for passing motorists. The wet roads and large puddles were a mystery to anyone who had travelled more than a few miles.

As I left the pub last week His Eminence the GM enquired if I was going to tonight’s Hash, I said I was and foolishly agreed to stand in for him. This gave me the task of converting a linear gaggle of hashers nattering away to each other along a 100 yard meter stretch of pavement on the other side of the read into a quiet and attentive audience crammed into a small space in front of the pub. This achieved I was just about to launch into my wonderfully witty and well prepared welcome speech (no one will ever know) when up stepped the Hare Nick eager to get the show on the road. He explained that his co-hare Escort had escaped to Newcastle and had volunteered his brother Phil, the trail had been laid on Sunday but had been checked (before the downpour?) and was fine. I just managed squeeze in an introduction for newcomer Mike before we set off.

With one eye on the weather and one eye on Whitchurch Hill we set off. After some winding through side streets the pack began the expected accent. Some like Spot, Bomber and TC bounded upwards with little effort. The remainder varied from the sensible “I won’t make to the top so I’ll start walking now” approach to the “If I keep running it will all be over quicker… Oh bugger will anyone notice if I start crawling now?” approach favoured by those who still think their 10k time is less than their age.

When we got to the top of the hill the FRBs were fooled as our neophyte hares didn’t know that the trail ALWAYS goes left. The pack then wended its way towards Hill Bottom (why is this at the TOP of the hill?). A number of us following calls of On On realised the error of our ways when we came across Billy Liar blatantly washing out an “F” with help from an adjacent large puddle. Wiser, we retraced our tracks and then passed the “The Sun” (if we had started here as we will in a couple of weeks we would have missed all the fun of the climb out of Whitchurch). From here the trail became increasingly hazy as, sheep like, the pack ran on following hope more than flour. Occasional half imagined glances of any white substance fuelling our increasingly desperate run. Eventually with the now ignored “On On”s from Billy off to the right we ran on until we came upon Cerberus, up a hill, extolling us to join her at a re-group. On our way we passed a large wooden yacht in pristine varnish with tall masts and shining brass fittings nestling among the trees behind a house, neither L&T nor myself could figure out how it got there. When we got to the regroup it was explained that we should have been approaching from the opposite direction and, that having run most of the loop from there already we should retrace our steps down the hill and continue the way we were going.

The more alert hashers soon noticed that the many sheep grazing in the adjacent fields had somehow grown unusually long necks. (The better to observe passing hashers?) The mystery was solved as we passed signs for Bozedown Alpacas.

Interesting facts about Alpacas :-

1. They come from Peru

2. They spit and can bring up stomach acid to add to the fun.

3. They have designated toilet areas.

4. Like Harriets, if one female has to go to the loo the others all have to join her

We finally made our weary way back to the pub. This had caused some consternation at last weeks Hash as it was reported to be closed. Fortunately it had re-opened under new management less than a week ago. They coped with the Hash well with only some lively Adnams causing problems. The Hash did eat their entire stock of “packaged snacks”, something we have only achieved with beer before.

For some reason, after my success as GM, I was also volunteered as RA I foolishly accepted hoping to get in a few more words this time. I had reckoned without my nemesis Nick the Hare. Trying to pre-empt him I offered him the opportunity to take over intending to give him a down-down but discovering that he doesn’t drink alcohol. I luckily had a pint of good old tap water to give him later but unfortunately Billy Liar got beer instead of water for his street cleaning activities. When it was time to reward the hares for their efforts, Nick true to form tipped his water over his head before the Circle even had time to clear their throats never mind get to the “down down ..” bit

Thanks to the Hares for laying the trail, especially Phil for stepping in for Escort. Spot for collecting the Tick and Shandyman for his helpful prompts to the acting, unpaid, stand-in RA.

DOWN-DOWNS

FORTHCOMING RUNS