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The Rising Sun, Woolhampton


Snowballs, Potty, Simple

Early Risers

Billy Bullshit cerberus Fannybag Bogbrush Donut Hashgate NappyRash Iceman Rainbow Warrior Flash John Chris and dog Foster Messenger Boy and dog Lucy Tinopener Lilo and dog Emma Whinge TC Dunny Rampant Rabbit Shandyman Horny Mike BGB Full Frontal Motox Florence Zebedee Glittertits Pissquick Poca Foghorn Skids Spot OldFart Swallow Slowsucker C5 Twanky SkinnyDipper AWOL Cheating Dave Sue Dave(now Slapper – see Down Downs) Ben Nutty Anne Mouse Lunchbox

Shorter Than Usual (Yeah, right)

Well, once again the batteries on my less than trusty voice recorder have rushed like a pair of demon-filled Gadarene swine into the sea of oblivion. The square eye on the front of the instrument blinks constantly at me: ‘LO BATT’, becoming ever more shadow-like. It’s done a good few year’s service. Been soaked a few times by torrential rain which required a night in the airing cupboard to stop it squealing when I switched it on. Suffered the verbal lambasting of Slowsucker during his stint as Scribe. Squeaked at by OldDog on occasion. Joined Florence in the loo once – an interesting experience when I pressed ‘Play’ afterwards. And splattered in mud by Lemming. So I can’t complain. No doubt when I feed its electrical innards with a brace of battery sandwiches it will not even burp, but work at the touch of its tiny buttons. So this one’s entirely from memory. Rather like many others.

It didn’t start too well as Donut and I overshot the pub with NappyRash in the back of the car alternately smiting his forehead and opining sagely, “There’s a roundabout up ahead. You can turn round.” Indeed there was. It was in Newbury. Fortunately, we spotted an entrance before that where we could turn. And then we spotted Fannybag and Bogbrush, who were executing a similar manoeuvre. We thought we’d done slightly better than Whinge and TC, who we had been following, since they disappeared altogether. Turns out they had nipped round to his mum’s to see if they could cadge a bacon sarnie.

Slowsucker (our revered GM) had obviously has a bad morning since, at the Circle, he referred to our location as Woolacombe. Since we were ignoring him anyway this minor peccadillo was swept aside as we swept out of the car park and down the A4, trying to get wasted bodies to work. It was all going great guns as we turned off the main road and down towards the canal, headed by Messenger Boy and dog Lucy. All going well that is until Lucy stopped suddenly, adpoted that brace-legged, cross-eyed look of a mongrel attempting a truly monumental dump before achieving that particular ambition. Fannybag and I were edging round the mound when the smell hit us. Crikey! I don’t know what messenger Boy is feeding his hound but I suggest a little less old beer, Worcestershire sauce, gorgonzola, elk pasties, possum pie and rat snacks. We fled from the scene, eyes bulging, assuaged only by the knowledge that M. Boy was, even then, strapping on the arm-length rubber gloves and welder’s mask before approaching the steaming pile with plastic bag in hand.

It was quite a long first stint pounding along the canal so it was quite a relief to get caught up at the Rowbarge with the mêlée occasioned by the kayak race and its supporters. Having nearly been knocked into the river by several blokes runnning with their boats along the towpath by the lock I felt it prudent to slow down a tad. Just as well, since that way led to a False. According to him we have to thank Simple for many of the Falses today. Since I went up most of them I feel effusive gratitude is due…

Of course, we had to cross back over the A4 and wheeze up that damn great hill where I bumped into Chris who was being pulled along by his black and white dog, Foster. The creature was covered in a kind of latticed harness from which was attached a lead that joined on to Chris’s belt. Foster is one of those wolf-like doggies who puts his ears back and lopes along diagonally, sometimes looking back wistfully as if to say, “Can’t you go any faster?” Chris, for those of you who know him, has a very artistic leg-length tattoo all down one, well, leg. Some time ago he ran with us when it was in a mere doodle. I am pleased to report it is now a grand design, almost matching that on Lilo’s back and rump in complexity and breathtaking inventiveness. “Just a bit more work needed.” He mused, as we lost ourselves in the wood.

After a race through more woods with a Gordian Knot of trail options which I was lucky enough to guess right all the way through we arrived at the Regroup, Cheating and Slowsucker sensibly racing each other in order to get to the rest area. Here we met a fellow who used to run with BH3, last doing so in 1993. He knew Motox and Cheating. And if the recorder was working I’d tell you his name, both real and Hash but…

Motox declared he knew the way out on the Long Trail and we duly piled confidently after his striding form. We piled confidentally back again when he found the False. At least we knew this fairly last bit would be mainly downhill. And it certainly was. A long, long, winding, muddy track led ever down and we followed it until we saw Fannybag stopping at the bottom. Mutterings of “Must be a Bar-something.” were heard and whatever it was that Fannybag was squeaking Dunny, Rainbow Warrior and the rest of us just ignored before beginning to trudge back up the hill. Pointless really, since the Trail did go this way before nipping into some woodland.

Now it’s a strange coincidence that the person I have been running with two times when I have spotted turkeys is NappyRash. We shall have to see if I can get a hat-trick some time in the future. This time, as we rounded a corner at the foot of another long and winding etc. off to the right was a small flock of the creatures doing their gobbling thing with puffed up chests and feathers, probably glorying in the thought that Christmas was behind them and there was penty of food to go round. I guess it’s fortunate that their ability to estimate what might happen in the future is a mite limited. After a trot across the last, flat, flooding field with an exhausted Florence (long bike ride the day before) and Twanky (just exhausted) we tripped up the road, catching up the walkers for a chat before enjoying a well-earned pint. Our thanks to the Hares, two of whom are carrying physical injuries and the third…

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA C5 (yes, he actually turned up today – but zipped off quickly to go and see Fulham) presented the following :-



Style points


Her 50 Hashes badge
His 200 & 50 badges
His 500 & 50 badges

Potty nominated by Skids. They reached the post just about together


Going through a red light

Raced through this too


Complaining that C5 was running too fast

No problem


Having inappropriate footwear

Damn fine effort


Renamed ‘Slapper’ for being one on the Red Dress Run.

On a freezing cold day the boy done well. He just loves it doesn’t he?

Potty, Snowy, Simple

Today’s Hares

Simple by a country mile!

Motox was awarded the bra and the boob this week.

Up and Coming



Grid Reference






* Change of venue *
The White Horse, Newbury Road
Hermitage RG18 9TB

Simple, Skids, Nutty, Potty, Snowballs




A Car Park
Bucklebury Common RG7 6QD(ish)
(Bring a botle & glass)

Foghorn, Dorothy