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The Calleva Arms
Silchester Common


Mr Blobby, Shutupwally

No Jokes Friends and Roamin’s – Done That Before

Dave Cerberus Billy Bullshit Donut Hashgate Desperate Shitfor Nappyrash Heavy Petting and dog Barney Fannybag Bogbrush and dog Pebbles Snowballs Potty Nutty Mother Theresa Lemming Handful Dorothy BGB Blowjob Glittertits Pissquick Poca Iceman Spex Hamlet OldFart Itsyor Fiddler Ms Whiplash Salome Mrs Blobby Utopia Honeymonster and dog Max Dumper Septic Motox Foghorn Chopstix Shandyman Twanky Sue Dave CabinBuoy Spot Hitchhiker OldDog Dunny Rampant Rabbit Cheating Ben Tinopener Lilo and dog Emma Maggot Slowsucker Swallow Lonely Whinge TC Flash Rainbow Warrior Florence Fannysniffer Bomber Posh Aqua Oddballs MessengerBoy and dog Lucy Caboose Hutley Mark Poser

No Jokes About Old Ruins – Done That Before

Amazing isn’t it? Take a bone-achingly cold day and a whole mass of people turn up. They probably had no idea that Hare C5 had ‘boogered off oop Narth’ to be replaced by ShutupWally who had so kindly stepped in to give the slightly-less-smiley-than-usual (can’t think why…) Mr Blobby a hand. Even Swallow had reappeared, possibly presaging a good summer but then you never know, there being only one of her. We were also delighted to see our dear friend Septic who gave many of us a hug after the Trail. Brilliant way of getting some of the mud off! She may have been a tad reticent on the running front (bit like Whinge really) but I suppose we’ll let her off this time Good to see you, Iris.

We were lucky to see OldDog too, since she mentioned (with a lot of vehement Gaelic words that involved scowling and fist-shaking) that the wheels had been stolen off her car in Mortimer, not a place renowned as crime-ridden. BGB stood around at the Circle, wearing something on his head that resembled an oversized, vivid yellow dog turd. On closer scrutiny it was found to be a woolly hat, of the kind now favoured by the young and fashionable. Bit like the head furniture worn by 17th century Dutch potato pickers. Surprising to see too was OldFart who rarely ventures out in the winter months, even if he can obtain a day pass from ‘er indoors.

Poor Mr Blobby was freezing cold after a long session of Trail-laying. A variety of them in fact, Walkers, Medium, Medium to Long, exceptionally Long. The lad got us on our way with the minimum of standing around and off we trotted, getting confused and stopping just after the first Check. This was by a thatched house which was evidently in the middle of being re-thatched by a blind, one-armed artisan with no sense of tidiness. Think Boris Johnson and you’ll get the idea. Lemming went up to ShutupWally. “Been doing a bit of thatching Wally?” He queried mischeviously. I’ve never thought of Lemming as being well versed in the witty art of subtle sarcasm but this was an excellent barb that almost earned him a round of applause from nearby tittering Hashers.

Much of the first part of the Trail was across scrubland etched with narrow tracks along which we sped, stopping at many Checks on the way. The ground was not easy to run on, with lots of foot-catching heather as Lonely found to his cost. In a vain attempt to grab OldDog for a bit of a grope and a tickle he fell heavily while the ladies around dropped him down a fair number of places in their ‘Male Hashers Who Aren’t Too Bad I Suppose’ list. He also got well and truly Lemming’d later while we squelched through a carefully placed bog in the woods. This was just after he, Lonely, had fallen in the stream – not your day really, was it Lonely? Lemming had pulled ahead of the Pack slightly. He drew back a leg above the soggy mere, then brought it down heavily, covering the right half of Lonely and soaking many others in reeking shiggy. When Lonely met me on the dry ground I found it was like talking to a kind of Janus man. Half of his face was the usual pinky colour while the other had a much darker tan, with a huge eyebrow, half a military-style moustache and an ear full of what appeared to be ancient wax. One could have fashioned a dozen candles from the residue. Lonely then made the mistake of trying to get Lemming back. Scooping up a handful of, well it could have been anything, he heaved it up in the air towards the general direction of our little friend. It missed by a yard and splattered down on the head of Blowjob. You could just see the surrounding ladies scratching Lonely off their lists completely even though he apologized with all the boyish sincerity and evident charm of Hugh Grant explaining the Divine Brown scenario to the Los Angeles Police Department.

Fannybag stood on the edge of a newly ploughed ditch. It was about four feet wide, with sloping sides. She was like a cat, gathering itself for the small leap. She tensed, swayed back, ready to fly airwards with the gravity-defying grace of Darcey Bussell in Swan Lake. Her muscles tensed… and she dropped with bent knees timidly into the thing before scrambling up the other side. A joy to watch. I couldn’t have scripted it better.

After a long old haul and an enjoyable five minutes watching Aqua herding four damn great big black cows away from the road we hit the regroup by the old Roman wall at Calleva. Here the Long and Walkers Trails split and a way down the Long at St Mary The Virgin church the Long split with the Medium. Which was nonetheless long enough. The Long was so long that these Hashers did not get back for ages and Bogbrush actually managed to get lost, arriving well after we had ensconced ourselves in the pub in order to collect the Tick and give Motox the money to buy the Down Downs. No way was Motox paying for the drinks and ending up with his pockets bulging with loose Hash cash!

So did we have a good Hash? Yes we did. One of the best. The Long Trail rather knackered everyone who was foolish to go on it but then it also knackered Mr Blobby, who laid the thing. The atmosphere in the pub afterwards was great, made even better by the birthday cakes that Dumper was generous enough to have provided for us. Pint of London Pride and a hunk of chocolate cake – luvverly!

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Motox presented the following :-



Style points


Indicating left and turning right.
Serious Hare abuse.
Complaining that men were trying to ‘help’ her by grabbing her hand

Cerberus just shaded it with a speedy display


Not only returning but actually paying the annual subs!

Fast but with minor spillage


Her birthday

Drunk like a pro (Hmm. Could have phrased that better)


Various miss-demeanours (see above)

Enjoyed his ‘punishment’


His birthday

The lad’s speeding up!


Misleading the RA

Smoothly downed

Mr Blobby, ShutupWally

Today’s Hares

Not sure what Wally was doing – it went all over him. Disgusting!

Up and Coming



Grid Reference






Rising Sun, Bath Road
Woolhampton RG7 5RH





The Queens Oak
Church Lane, Finchampstead
RG40 4LS


Next Run Sheet - From Iceman - I am trying to put the next run sheet together. I have a draft from SS which has people for all the dates except 3rd of May (and the last entry 24th May which should have been SS and PP) but few Venue details so I am chasing up the Hares. If anyone who volunteered could send me their details it would be appreciated -

Next Hash Walk will take place on Saturday 20th February at 11am.
Meet at the Car Park in the woods, just off Wellingtonia Avenue (the B3348) between Crowthorne and Finchampstead. Grid Ref SU813636. Approx 7-8 miles with pub stop. Bring packed lunch or eat in pub. It will probably be very muddy with severe puddles so boots are advisable.