Run Number: |
1808 |
16/7/12 |
Visit
the website – http://www.berkshirehash.co.uk
|
Venue: |
The Duke of
Wellington |
||
Hares: |
Shitfor, Desperate, BillyBullshit |
Dunny RampantRabbit Donut Hashgate AWOL Potty Nutty Skids Simple Bumwiper and dog Ebony Mike Horny and dog Robbie Fannybag Bogbrush Spot Hitchhiker Spex LoudonTasteless Iceman Motox Twanky Blowjob SlipperyDick Julia SlipperyNipples Snowballs Cerberus PoisonedChalice NewBoiler CrustyToasty Caboose Slowsucker Swallow Zebedee TT2 Florence Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby C5 Fiddler Itsyor Lonely Honeymonster Ms Whiplash Dumper Foghorn Andy Ben BGB Tequilova Gliiertits Pissquick Woodentop Utopia Booby Mark Angela Slapper OldFart Pippa Stripper Tapeworm
Honeymonster appeared at the back of the pub sporting a haircut that looked like he’d inadvertantly wandered through a typhoon filled with garden shears. The glazed look seemed to confirm it. Hitchhiker (remember her?) wandered past, also vacant, and looking for the bogs. SlipperyDick, another long lost returnee appeared – it seems that as he lives but a footfall away from the pub he felt duty bound to attend. BumWiper drew up in her Mini, Ebony sitting proudly in the passenger seat, and sped quickly and tightly into the last parking slot… despite there being a huge public car park visible just a little way down the hill. Simple called us to the Circle in that car park and we ambled down to hear his words of wisdom. Sadly, he seemed to be all out of sagacity today so we listened to the usual drivel before being called On Out by our birthday Hare, Shitfor.
This was to be a very sneaky start by the Hares. Every other time we have run from here we go up the little rise and either left or right. Since there was no flour to the right everyone streamed off downhill towards the well known lakes and nature reserve to the left. Quarter of a mile on and what should we hear but the stentorian tones of Shitfor calling us all the way back! The crafty Hares had sneaked the Trail out the back way from the car park and we had to heave our not-warmed-up, breath-heaving bodies up the hill towards the station. It all got even sneakier from here. Or perhaps I should say snakier since we went upa road, then down another, and up and down Lord knows how many times until we started getting dizzy.
We
reached a mini playground, surrounded by low railings and populated
by a lovelorn young couple sitting opposite each other on a see-saw,
gazing dreamily into one another’s eyes and being not quite
sure whether they had grown up yet. You got the impression, as their
locked gaze unlocked and focussed on the panting, sweating, confused,
mainly older contingent of BH3 that they rather wished
they wouldn’t grow up just yet if this is what ‘maturity’
meant. Their thoughts were further confirmed when Slapper leapt over
the railings, ran through the playground to the gate, then failed
dismally to work out how to open it. Mothers trailing wailing
children can open it, tiny tots can open it and given that Ebony,
BumWiper’s lovely little spaniel managed to find her way out of
a locked car last week the mental capacity of the good Slapper was
found to be more than a little wanting. Our picture today shows the
kind of place that Slapper likes to frequent. Hmm.
At last we began to head down yet another tarmac hill towards a known country area and I trotted along happily with Dunny. A couple of running young ladies approached just as Itsyor passed us and his complete lack of gallantry became very obvious as he cheerfully let Dunny and me know that, “I didn’t know there could be so much talent running on the streets.” Charming! Dunny was far too much of a lady to point out his faux pas but I felt it my duty to advise him he was a cad and a mountebank.
Finally, the shiggy arrived although the four-way Check had us confused for a while. New boy Ben coming back along what proved to be the Trail didn’t help. We sped off along the narrow track, white Shetland ponies to our right and rather a lot of mud and standing water beneath us. Hare Desperate had joined us, skipping lightly along in front of me. I could hear Mr Blobby champing at the bit behind our group and he finally managed to edge past. Now one cad/mountebank on the Hash is almost to be expected but two!! The Blobster is generally known for his ready smile and easy demeanour and none of us were ready for what he did next. As he drew level with Desperate he deliberately stamped in a quite muddy puddle, soaking the lady Hare’s left legand giving it what appeared to be an instant and very streaky suntan.
It all got VERY muddy, sticky and slippery from here and, unfortunately, Fannybag skidded, turned her ankle over and went down like a bag of sprouts falling of the back of a Lincolnshire lorry. Luckily, a number of other Hashers were around and Lonely and LoudonTasteless managed to get her (very carefully) to her feet. It seemed to me that, if the ankle wasn’t too badly damaged, the ‘assistance’ of these two would result in a remarkable and almost immediate recovery by Fannybag particularly since LT lived up to the last part of his Hash name by letting Fannybag know that the last time he had helped someone like this it had been StraddleVarious and he had broken his leg. Bedside manner needs a little brushing up LT. In the event, poor Fannybag was packed off to hospital. We all hope the injury is minor and the recovery is quick and painless. Come back soon Fannybag
There was a lot more squishing through shiggy before we reached another field with lots of tiny white Shetlands running about where Glittertits confided to me that he was a little frightened of horses ever since one bit him on the face when he was about seven years old. I can only think that the creature had been a tad myopic and confused the little ginger-haired lad with a carrot. However, we agreed these Shetlands were a bit different to your average 15-hander and that a firm right-cross would soon put paid to any toothy equine attention.
Since we are running out of space let me just say the rest of the Trail slogged it’s way back into Twyford where Shitfor and Desperate had arranged a super BBQ in the pub garden that was enjoyed every bit as much as the Trail. Many thanks to both for both!
On On. Hashgate.
Birthday boy RA C5 presented the following :-
Name |
Reason |
Style points |
Nutty |
Actually running |
Suprisingly swift for a teetotaller |
Slapper |
Mentally challenged by a child’s gate |
Finally figured out how to drink it |
LoudonTasteless |
Diplomacy (see above) |
Hardly deserved it |
Booby |
Wearing strange toe shoes |
Supped from C5’s regular plimsoll |
Simple |
Being a trekker |
Woof! Gone. |
Mr Blobby |
Stealing C5’s thunder in yesterday’s race |
Enjoyed his trophy beer |
Mrs Blobby |
Not being Mr Blobby’s friend |
Really rather good |
Shitfor, C5 |
Birthday boys |
Happy Birthday! |
Shitfor, Desperate, BillyBullshit |
Today’s Hares |
Thoroughly deserved. |
Run |
Date |
Grid Reference |
Venue |
Hares |
1810 |
30/7/12 |
SU709819 |
The
Red Lion |
Booby |
1811 |
6/8/12 |
SU462606 |
The
Carpenters Arms |
Shandyman |