Oaks and Acorns

FullFrontal Donut Hashgate Caboose Chopstix Shandyman NoNuts Iceman Ms Whiplash Poisoned Chalice Spot Hitchhiker TinOpener LoudonTasteless Spex Dunny Rampant Rabbit Motox Blowjob Twanky Whinge TC Utopia Mrs Blobby OldDog C4 Dumper Septic Posh Bomber Snowballs NuttyPotty Simple OldFart Slowsucker Swallow Steamer Baldrik Jwax Paul Jen Escort Madame Cyn Nipple Blobs Right Royal F**k Up Desperate Shitfor Dwight Julia Scoot Florence Zebedee Handfull Ross Woodentop Slapper Susan Itsyor Fiddler Claire FrenchLeave Lonely Cheating Slippery

A Well Blobbed Trail

Despite the kind attentions of Wokingham District Council in closing the Finchampstead Road Donut and I arrived fearfully early for us. It was quite pleasant listening to Just a Minute and relaxing while first FullFrontal pulled in behind us then Spot purred past with Hitchhiker in his new Spotmobile. He told us later that he has a very nifty number plate to put on it: SP07 HHH. Neat. He’s going to be cruising in the ultimate babe magnet! Enjoy, Spot. A completely different arrival was made by Steamer who wheezed up in his ancient Maxi, sputtered to a halt, coughed a couple of times, then apparently died. Bit like a number of Hashers I know at the end of this Trail. To be fair, it wasn’t that long compared to some we have endured. Not surprising really given the number of miles our two Hares put in during a week. Mr Blobby was telling us on Saturday that he had risen at 6:30 in order to run for three(!) hours. Apparently, it was a beautiful morning and he thoroughly enjoyed it. I understand Mrs Blobby declined his polite invitation to join him...

The Circle was presided over by Slowsucker who gave us an erudite, trenchant, perspicacious and eminently forgettable introduction. Prior to this Bomber and I had been surprised at the sight of Posh running her hand up Donut’s leg and expressing her appreciation. Now I can certainly confirm that this pastime is eminently pleasurable and really quite good for one. Something like cats and dogs that are taken into hospitals to be stroked, for the benefit of patients – perhaps we could take in a Donut leg to hospital to make them feel better. Mind you, stroking cats and dogs lowers one’s blood pressure. I think the opposite effect might happen in the male wards.

Knowing the running ability of our Hares the On Out was approached in the leisurely manner of an old bloke shuffling downstairs to get the Sunday papers. Wise move, actually, since those who rushed determinedly up the hill to the Church (Fiddler, Shitfor et al) found themselves called back almost immediately. I ambled down the hill to where the rest of the Pack was queuing to get over a stile with Zeb, who is currently suffering with an Achilles tendon determined to give him as much gyp as possible. Seems to be a bit of it going round at the moment since OldFart is suffering with a similar malaise. Let’s hope they mend soon.

A further lazy stroll and chat with Dumper and Septic across the field completed the early, relaxed start to the Trail. Until Slippery got all competitive and burned past us like a sloth on amphetamines. She seemed really quite chuffed about this. I think she was in quite a mischievous mood tonight since later she encouraged Donut to run off at great speed while I tied up an absconding shoelace. Then nearly blew me over with the gale started by her fluttering eyelashes while ‘apologising’.

Our hares had laid a shifting Trail that skidded along tracks and skittered through woods. There were plenty of Checks and quite a lot of crashing about when we couldn’t find the right way. At the top of one well wooded slope we took some time to figure it out, initially making the mistake of following Dunny who leapt eagerly over fallen branches on what she fondly imagined was the correct Trail, only to leap eagerly over them again on her way back. Cheating stood there and he opined, with much knowledgeable nodding, that, “You can never go wrong if you go down.” Realising that it would be mentally damaging to dwell on the moment we duly rushed away down the slope, following Whinge who has obviously been on major doses of HRT recently.

We reached Finchampstead Ridges where the Short Cutters were waiting and Mr Blobby was rapidly catching up with us. ‘Which way?” Asked Slippery, so I jerked my thumb over my shoulder down the track just as Le Blob arrived. “Think I’ll wait for Mr Blobby.” Said Slippery. “I trust him much more than you.” She’d certainly got it in for me tonight. However, she had a point. My thumb-oriented direction was largely a guess, based on the fact that most people seemed to have gone that way...

From here Dwight, Julia and Scoot were among those who swept down the long slope that eventually reached a main road. Where the blobs of flour stopped!?! C5 let me know later that this was actually the Walker’s Trail and, because they had a map, there were no Trail markings. Nice to know then but not much hope while we were casting about for the right way. Steamer trotted off one way, Shandyman another. And then we saw The Cricketers pub which was known to Shandyman. So it was a fairly short, uphill, tarmac tramp back to the pub while the rest of the Pack (we could hear the stentorian calls of Iceman miles away!) ran a reasonable size loop round to the Church and back down that hill many of them had run up so unnecessarily earlier on. The evening was rounded off by a pint and enjoyable barbeque food. The only drawback to sitting in the garden, apart from the cooling breeze, were the arc lights erected by the landlord on the roof of the pub that floodlit the garden and meant we could see absolutely nothing. Including Shitfor as he led the Down Downs. So not all negative then.

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Shitfor presented the Down Downs with a certain amount of panache and a fragrant air. Sadly, my recording machine decided to expire at this moment. As far as I can remember, Itsyor and OldFart got one for perving about Nipple Blobs. Blowjob got one for her birthday. Our Hares Mr Blobby and C5 got a well-deserved pint each. I think Jen got one for being a virgin. And... that’s about it for this week. Run out of time unfortunately. Catch you next time!

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