The Hashers

Spot Hashgate Flash Swallow Slowsucker Snowballs Simple Skids 2Bob PinkPanther Iceman Shitfor Desperate Fannybag Bogbrush AWOL Pissquick Poca (and bump) Potty Nutcracker Spex LoudonTasteless Ms Whiplash Salome Caboose Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby C5 Septic Dumper Hamlet OldFart Fiddler Chopstix Shandyman Messenger Boy Twanky Zebedee Florence Woodentop Cheating Centaur Dwight Scoot Dunny Rampant Rabbit Motox Lisa Paul Daisy from Milton Keynes

The Hash

I was early. Spot was early. Flash was even earlier. And it was very cold.(Shades of E. Hemingway there – Gobsheet style’s looking up). Spot and I sat in his slightly warmer car watching Flash futtling and thrutching. Futtling – to move about aimlessly but with the appearance of purpose in a rapid shuffling manner. Thrutching – staccato movements that mimic determined action but that achieve virtually nothing. Flash, having arrived at seven o’clock, believing this to be the Hash start time, was shuffling to and fro with his bike. Now placing it against the wall. Now moving it a few inches to left or right. Checking the contents of his saddlebag; taking things out, viewing them, then replacing them. The overall impression was of intense and determined industry. Fascinated and appalled in turn, Spot and I watched in awe at the expenditure of pointless energy. Finally satisfied that his bike was in the perfect position, Flash shuffled over with a vacant grin and ankle-swinging trousers to deposit his stuff in Spot’s boot. It took all of fifteen minutes to find the right place in there and settle his meagre pack in its rightful position. By the time he had finished Spot and I were exhausted with the constant anticipation. Flash had one last moment of fascination for us all when he tripped over 2Bob’s dog during the Trail and gave us a moment of hearty enjoyment. A slightly more dynamic version of his namesake is pictured left.

Fortunately, the Gather Round was conducted in a brisk manner (rather like the weather) and Slowsucker, our revered GM, finding little to speak about this area of little interest confined himself to a few remarks and left it to our experienced Hares. Butterfly and Dribbler have Hashed more times than they would probably care to mention and it certainly showed in the Trail tonight. The On Out sent us entirely the wrong way to a rather sneaky Bar which gave the walkers a head start – except for Poca, our pretty pregnant Hasher who made the mistake of following the Pack. Butterfly was duly chastised for not giving her clear instruction.

The Trail our Hares had laid was an excellent combination of fields, woods, tracks and trails, a little tarmac, one or two Regroups depending on your viewpoint and a ford. There was the occasional arrow to point the way, some of which had a ‘W’ against, indicating the Walkers’ Trail. Or sometimes the actual Trail. Highly confusing and a good way of keeping the Pack together. One in particular had the Walker’s Trail leading off to the right into the forest. Ms Whiplash and Salome merrily led the way while the ‘athletes’ sped (or gaspingly staggered) up the steep tarmac hill, following flour blobs. All the way to the Bar-5! Urk! We skittered all the way back down, trying to catch up with Ms Whiplash et al.

The ford was even more fun. After a long haul along the road to a T-junction the FRBs nipped off up left, following the two arrows that pointed in that direction. Simple chortled gleefully, for his and Skids’ house was located up that road and he had seen the False when he had cycled down there on his bike. Such callous duplicity Hares! Must have been Dribbler. I can’t imagine a lady of such fragrance as Butterfly ever conceiving this idea. Zebedee and Rampant Rabbit clattered back down and stamped onwards with the rest of us to the ford. Now the idea had been to have a second Regroup here but that had been rather scuppered when a four-wheel drive bow-waved through it and virtually obliterated the ‘RG’. The curious thing was that our Hares had not laid a Bar check on the path that ran alongside the ford so many people (including a surprisingly un-apologetic Iceman) tripped lightly along it, shouting abuse at the stalwarts who waded across. As C5 and I indulged in spot of aquatic gudgeon-bashing and the not-quite-so-tall Zeb dampened the bottom of his shorts it occurred to me that what we were doing was perfectly aligned with the pub we were (eventually) heading back towards. The Traveller’s Friend you see was St. Christopher who waded across the stream carrying the Christ child on his shoulder. One wonders whether this allegedly 7’ 5” giant’s feet were as stone-cold frozen as my own tootsies after a spot of nippy immersion. Curious though that about 30 seconds after leaving the water’s cold ankle-swirling my feet felt as warm as fresh toast. Opens up the blood vessels apparently. Given that Paula Radcliffe goes for whole body immersion in ice baths she must glow like an isotope after she’s towelled down and is heading for the Horlicks.

Bogbrush and I watched Cheating speeding off along the road, ignoring the true Trail that threaded us alongside it and wound us in and out of the woods. Much more fun that tarmac. Even when we found the On Inn, only to also find there seemed to be at least another mile before we got back to the pub. I tacked along with Caboose, who was jogging along grappling the Hash Boob and trying not to let it wobble out of his grip. Apparently, not the first time he has essayed that kind of thing.

We finally got back and got changed quickly before we froze. Quite why Messenger Boy had decided on the totally inappropriate gear of short-sleeved shirt, shorts and Crocs without socks we do not know. I suppose, however, it was entirely appropriate for a Hasher.

Many thanks to Butterfly and Dribbler – a masterclass in Trail laying.

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA C5 presented the following :-

Started so well. Nut sopped by the RA!

Caboose presented the Hash boob to Zebedee for trying to ‘win’ the Hash. He accepted it most gratefully...

Up and Coming

Berkshire Hash 1700th Run Celebration

Join us on 17^th July at Yattendon Village Hall (gridref 553746) from 16:00 to midnight.
Tickets cost £6 for BH3 members, £8 for non-members. The price includes a stunning choice of Trails or walk, a Beer Stop, food, two drinks and and a disco. Wow! What more could you ask for? After your two free! Drinks a pint or a glass of wine will cost you only £1 and soft drinks cost even less. Think how much you can save while getting completely ***-faced! You gotta go. Talk to Motox for more information on the event of the Century.