The Hashers

Ms Whiplash Salome NappyRash Hashgate Honeymonster and dog Max Steamer Cerberus Billy Bullshit Desperate Shitfor Shitshoveller Penny Pitstop OldDog Dumper Septic Little Stiffy Slackbladder Motox Whinge TC Foghorn Iceman Caboose Handful TripleNipple John Spot Tinopener Lilo and dog Emma Barry and dog Fido Jackie Scarlet Pimpernel Mrs Pimp David Cheating

Skinny Dipper (almost) Lives Up To Her Name

First some excellent news. Last week’s Mortimer 10k, aprés race Hash and garden party (all stunningly well organized by Septic, Dumper and family on a beautiful, warm day) attracted 57 Hash race entries entries and raised a superb total of £1200 for Scarlet Pimpernel and Mrs Pimp’s mesothelioma charity! Steve asked me, on behalf of himself and his lady, Roz, to thank all of you who contributed your time, money and personalities and who made the day such a success. Feel free to pat yourselves on the back :-)

This week we were at the Land’s End pub near Charvil, where the sight of the ford next to the car park entrance made many a Hasher’s heart skip a beat. However, it hasn’t rained for ages and we were brightened as we watched a lone cyclist approach the stream then go steadily through it by levelling his pedals and just pushing quickly on the forward one, stopping before his foot dipped into the water, pulling the pedal back slightly, then repeating the process. Excellent way of keeping one’s feet dry and it certainly made us happy to know the water was only calf level. However, concrete under water has a habit of collecting slippery green stuff. As Skinny Dipper found out at the end of the Trail. Some of us watched as she trotted down the slope on the other side of the ford. Quite rightly she was enjoying that rosy feeling (along with JWax and Baldrick) of a job well done. The sun was shining. Foghorn was waiting in the stream – but who cared. One moment she was upright and floating forward. The next she was horizontal and, well, floating. The similarity with the launch of the Cromer lifeboat was too difficult to ignore. As the waves subsided and a small bevy of confused ducks, peremptorily dumped on the far bank, waggle-tailed back into the water, Foghorn moved forward to assist Skinny back to the vertical. What a gent! Seeing she was unhurt he ensured that symmetry was assured by soaking the front of her. Our picture this week captures the moment she emerged, like Venus from the waves. Certainly gets my vote for Ms Wet Hash T-Shirt.

The early part of the Trail snaked itself over a rubbish dump! Although you wouldn’t have know it since this green, sculpted, short-grassed area was very pleasant. It was only when Shitshoveller pointed out to me the gas vents placed discreetly at the edge of the lightly wooded areas that I realised over what we were running. There were a number of Checks in this small area and we blundered from one to the other, sometimes running back along a line of blobs or losing the darn Trail altogether. As NappyRash and I did. We had to push our way through some very scratchy bushes to rejoin the Pack. We just couldn’t quite get it together here, and when we slid into the woods we got even more confused, running either side of a stream before those on the right side skipped across it. However, we did get to see Ms Whiplash running again! Much more of this and Paula Radcliffe had better look to her laurels. We even got lost in the suburban, tarmac’d area (Woodley, I think).

Now the rest of this Gobsheet could turn into a journal of the route, since we just seemed to run and run (very pleasant though it was in the sunshine). But we don’t want to do that, do we? Let’s go literarily off-piste…

Erm. Well I would, but seem to have something of a writer’s block at the moment. What’s happening around me? Well, my giant black and white cat, Murphy, has just squeezed himself in through his catflap like a piece of toothpaste coming out of the tube. Must be food time again soon. This chap has got life entirely resolved. He assumes a catatonic-like state approximately 23 hours a day, showing signs of life and affection towards his human companion only when his mental catfood alarm clock rings like a spoon clattering in a tin of Felix. He has recently taken to jumping on my bed in the morning while I am trying to read The Telegraph and ignore the buzzing of the Blackberry. Boris Johnson’s erudite musings are lost to me as a furry body, almost the size and colour of a pregnant raccoon settle down to ‘nest’ in the middle pages. Ah, what it is to have the companionship of a friendly creature. Especially when he looks up at you with that appealingly cute face with the big whiskers… and yawns cavernously, releasing a noxious cloud of either tuna and salmon or rabbit and turkey. Nice at breakfast time. I’m surprised there’s still any wallpaper left unpeeled.

After a very long, long schlep alongside the river we finally arrived at the Beer Stop. Motox and Cerberus manned the bar which had a rather good selection of ales and softies. Our two hosts fulfilled their roles perfectly with Motox as the downtrodden landlord and Cerberus as the domineering landlady. Motox’ initial effrort at pouring my beer was met with a squeal of derision. “You don’t want to pour it like that.” She chastised. “There’s too much head on it. Give it to me.” And she poured a perfect draught into the plastic cup. I got the impression he was rather enjoying the henpecking. Especially when he threw several empty cans into a plastic bag. “Give ‘em a squeeze.” Ordered Cerberus and his eyes lit up in anticipation. It was like watching a balloon being excitedly blown up. All shiny and growing until it became clear Cerberus was thinking of can space efficiency and the balloon slipped off the end of the balloon inflator, farted reedily in the corner of the room, then flopped out of site behind the settee.

The Hares certainly ticked all the boxes with this Trail. Long, Medium and Short Trails. Interesting, confusing, fun, educational, Beer Stop, warm weather and a water splash at the end! Thanks from all of us. Thoroughly enjoyable.

On On. Hashgate.

P.s. we all wish Billy the best for a successful back operation later this week. Look forward to seeing you running again soon, old boy :-)

Down Downs

RA Spot presented the following :-

Not too bad at all.

Up and Coming

Hallowe’en Barn Dance

Enter the Twilight Zone on Saturday, October 31^st for only £8 and all the frogs you can eat (ok, it includes food). BYO drink and dance to the excellent Pitchfork. You can wear fancy dress, or not, and there’s a competition for the best designed and cut pumpkin. Motox has the tickets. Haunt him for one before they all go!