Left-Footers

Slowsucker Whinge TC Donut Hashgate Snowballs Foghorn Potty Nutty Skids Simple Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby Utopia RedRum LoudonTasteless Spex Pissquick Poca Dribbler Butterfly Honeymonster and dog Max OldFart Barbara Premature Cerberus Fannybag Bogbrush DragonLady Mary Stripper Tapeworm Slapper Ms Whiplash Desperate Shitfor Fullfrontal Slippery Spot Blind Pew Blowjob Slowsucker Caboose Itsyor Motox C5 Lungs Cheating Messenger Boy Chopstix Shandyman TT2 Zebedee Florence Lonely

A Really Enjoyable Trail

Well this should take a little less time to write than the Bude 2011 diary, and a little less time to read, no doubt. Old Fart is still optically chewing his way through it. Take a look – it gives you a good idea of all the things we did during a great week.

Possibly because it has been a while since I have been to the Hash I found it very difficult to find the pub. Lord knows why. I’ll put it down to post-work stupidity. The reason for Desperate bringing two left shoes I’ll leave to you to decide. Perhaps it can be attributed to being severely gnashed by a beastly insect on Saturday night that left her with a large pimple object on her lower calf and a fat ankle. Fortunately, she managed to borrow a pair of shoes and despite this and the ankle, managed to skip round the Trail reasonably comfortably.

The landlord of the pub, Ian, had very generously agreed to open on the Monday night – it is usually closed. He must have been cheered by the sight of a large group of Hashers gathering outside the front door. The group included Mrs Blobby who we were glad to see was looking fairly chipper after her recent back operation. Simple entered the Circle to do his GM introductory bit and had hardly opened his mouth before Itsyor advised him loudly that we all knew the history of the village hall and yahda, yahda, yahda. Simple took it well and was just about to open his mouth again when a large and curly dog wandered dozily up to him. The pub dog was friendly, inquisitive and vacant. Simple bent over to look at it. It looked up at him myopically. Someone unkindly suggested that it was difficult to tell the difference between the two and that, had it not been for the headband (on Simple) it would have been impossible. Despite all the heckling Simple got through his chat, handed over to the Hares and away we went.

A heavy lassitude enveloped the masses. Slowsucker went up the track opposite with Cheating standing at the start of it, directing operations. Mr Blobby went off right, with very few Hashers following him. The rest chattered idly, lounged louchly, until Hares Twanky and Dorothy pointed out the way.

What a fine Trail our Hares had laid. The countryside around this area is perfectly beautiful and it showed itself off to its best in the still July air. Most of the Trail was through fields and along tracks and the Hares had supplied the opportunity to wade through a stream. Mind you, all this superb landscapery did not prevent Dribbler from answering a mobile phone call while tripping lightly across the sward. He was probably confused after our dusty dash across a very dry field of what appeared to be small beans. Though we were running along a tractor track the dicotyledons had almost overgrown it and they gave us such a fleshy, dusty whipping that most people had to stop to retie the shoelaces that had been undone by wading through the thick foliage.

Now I had managed to tweak a calf muscle and was dot and carrying along in front of Desperate and Donut on our way past those lovely mares and foals. Donut explained what I had done. Desperate took a couple of seconds before stating, “It looks rather bulbous.” I was rather surprised that she could see round corners and gratified by her interest. A short while later she observed that, as I struggled over a stile, I was, “Humbered by your bulbous.” A curious phrasing and one which partially opens a small observation window into the state of mind of one who is living with Shitfor.

The best view of the night lay before us. It was rather like the picture to the left, which was a view we saw during a walk near Bude. The land sloped away, clothed in a rustling, dusty yellow cloak of corn with a track weaving down. The sky was a dusky cobalt with the silver disc of the sun setting behind us, lighting the corn and shadowing the hedge side. Leafy trees on either side formed a calm frame and off in the distance, half hidden by the stiff corn was the timbers of an old house. Sometimes this country is unbeatable…

Thank you very much Twanky and Dorothy. An inspiring Trail.

On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA C5 presented the following :-

Refined orange juice

Up and Coming