Berkshire Hash House Harriers 



Run Number:

1831 23Dec12


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The Queen’s Oak


Shandyman, LoudonTasteless

Pre-Christmas Revellers  

HP Donut Hashgate Spex LoudonTasteless Posh Bomber BGB Dribbler Butterfly BlindPew RandyMandy Shitfor Desperate Whinge TC FannyBag Tequilova Chopstix CallGirl Foghorn C5 Slapper Bogbrush Iceman Lilo and dog Minx TinOpener Carloss and dog Teddy SkinnyDipper Spot FulFrontal 2Bob and dog Lucy Motox MessengerBoy Itsyor Fiddler Debbie Blowjob Dorothy Lonely CabinBuoy Florence Zebedee

The GMs Just-Before-Christmas Hash

Wow! One moment we are enjoying Shandyman and L&T’s excellent Hash and, wham, now it’s December 28th and not a Gobsheet penned. The Christmas maelstrom envelopes us all in one way or another, leaving us somewhat blank-eyed and wondering how it passed by so fast. The Hash was a perfect precursor to the festive flurry since we seemed to rush round it rather fast – no Falses you see – bit of a drink and a mince pie in the middle, and a number of people wearing silly Santa hats, with or without reindeer attached to them. Carloss’s dog, Teddy, had also caught the Christmas spirit, thinking that the example flour Check laid in the car park before the On Out by Shandyman was snow, so he buried his nose in it. The effect, along with his bright-eyed, scampering behaviour made him appear to be our first canine cocaine snorter. After much rushing about and a somewhat abusive ‘field check’ by Whinge on Desperate (though she didn’t seem to mind too much) we reached a very welcome Beer Stop in California Country Park, manned by the helpful CallGirl. She and Debbie set to and doled out the mulled wine and mince pies, which we fell upon in various ways. Foghorn affected the hairy-faced werewolf single-chomp style, BlindPew the head back to straighten the trachea then down in one method, Posh nibbled delicately round the edges with her pearly white teeth, BGB lifted his spectacles to view the sweetmeat, assessed it for risk (he is into insurance) then bit into it firmly in the prescribed manner. It started to rain and those of us daft enough to choose the Long Trail rather than the Short tramped on rapidly, shaking the lethargy out of our joints, in order to get warm again. Slipping and sliding up that hill certainly singed the cockles. Two steps forward, one sideways and one back was the running method. How anyone didn’t succumb to a legs-in-the-air pratfall along the narrow, mud alleys I don’t know. We all eventually stopped at a place where we could go in three directions. We had stopped because the flour had. Stopped, that is. Not a trace of Homepride could we find even though various FRBs scurried up and back the paths. Some voted to stay there and let moss grow over them. Others for a quicker end by hunkering down in the horse field and pretending to be a salt lick. Eventually, we found the damn Trail (uphill, of course) and slithered up the sucking shiggy. Thank The Lord (somewhat apposite, that) that Finchampstead Church was not too far away even if it was even further up hill. This, for those who do not know, was where Cerberus and Billy were married all those years ago. Apparently, in the church next to a plaque for those who gave their all so that others may know peace and happiness is a smaller one to Cerberus, lauding her altruism and the fact that, by marrying Billy, she too has given her all so that others may know happiness (when she has taken him home and chained him in his kennel). Our mud-spattered forms limped quietly past the church door as the worshippers, dressed in their Sunday finest exited, calling on their deep reserves of Christian charity in order not to ask what the bloody hell we thought we were doing. After a quick change we headed for the welcoming, cosy pub and enjoyed a damn good laugh and a drink – it was a shame to leave later. The only jarring note was C5’s waistcoat and trousers. Crafted for him by his good lady, C4, they were exquisitely crafted – a Jermyn Street tailor with forty years experience would have sat back, cross-legged, on examining the quality of stitching and doffed a mental cap to her seamstress skills. However, on closer inspection by some of us the pattern on the material could be seen to be lots and lots of little, beaming, Father Christmas figures. Hundreds of them. Not exactly Vivienne Westwood. Hardly Alexander McQueen. Even Jean Paul Gaultier would have raised a Gallic eyebrow. We figured C5 had incurred C4’s displeasure and she, being a lady, had served up her dish of chilled couture revenge. Apart from that, he looked very dapper J

Our thanks to the Hares for an excellent Trail and for choosing a perfect pre-Christmas pub.

On On.  Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Shitfor had already figured absolutely no-one wanted to leave the warm confines of the pub so he held the Down Downs in it. Smart move J

Who Got It

Why and How They Did


Whimped out of running through a large puddle just before the Regroup.


Being too fat to get through a kissing gate (he’s such a chubster!)


Arriving late and catching up with us very quickly at the Regroup.


Being unable to see flour on the Trail (even though there was none to be seen)


For looking like Clark Kent (I think that’s what Shitfor said…)


Our Hares. Since there was so little flour on the Hash it was felt thay must have previously attended the BGB School of Flour Arranging.

2012 – A Brief Hash Review

So let’s have a swift look back at 2012, starting with the rather hungover (I certainly was – poor Swallow nearly swooned at the bourbon fumes when I gave her a happy New Year kiss) New Year’s Day Hash at The Calleva Arms. This was where we discovered that Mother Theresa had had tattooed on her bottom a full-sized albatross in open winged flight. February saw us staggering up the massive hill in Streatley from The Bull on top of which, in brilliant sunshine, Bumwiper informed us that she was Mary Poppins after singing a snatch of ‘The Hills Are Alive With The Sound of Music’… doh! In March we had a lovely time at Mortimer Village Hall during the St. David’s Day Hash – pity the weather had consisted of sleet and snow in freezing conditions. So much so that LoudonTasteless had been running along with his hands down the front of his shorts. Not a pretty sight! In April we visited The Horns at Crazies Hill for the Bun Run and Spot was kind enough to show us the yellow bruises on his legs after a bit of a tangle with some barbed wire earlier in the week.In May we were ‘treated’ to a Virgins’ Trail by Bob and Julia (now NearlyTwice) who laid the mother of all ½ marathons round the tarmac jungle of Winnersh. In June we sloshed our way round a sodden Trail from and to The Red Lion, Mortimer. In July we thoroughly enjoyed Shitfor and Desperate’s birthday barbecue in Twyford at The Duke of Wellington and unlucky Fannybag knackered her ankle (now fully recovered I’m glad to report). The Crown at Nuffield entertained us in August, even though it was meant to be closed and we had to sing the Down Downs very quietly inside the pub because a) it was p*ssing down outside, and b) a 94 year old lady and a dog were trying to sleep upstairs. September saw the launch of the new style Gobsheet and the first Trail laid by our new Trailmaster, Slapper. The lad did well. Particularly since good off-road running around The Hatchgate at Burghfield Common is rather rare. Cheating gave us an excellent Trail and a superb pub in October at The Highwayman in Exlade Street… Or he would have done if he had actually laid the Trail and advised the pub we were coming. The reins were taken up at the last minute by Whinge and TC who gave us a cracking outing in superb woodland. Then Booby ordered up brilliant sunshine to go with his Hash from The Bottle and Glass at Binfield Hath in November. Round that all off with a visit from The Dog’s Bollocks New York H3 and an excellently organised Christmas dinner at The Calcot Hotel. What another great year for BH3!

We are a very successful Hash consisting of a great bunch of personalities, each with their own idiosyncratic ways that nonetheless seem to integrate generally seamlessly. Why are we successful? Not only because of the personalities but also because of the people in the background who do things selflessly and give up their time to keep us running smoothly. And because everyone mucks in – just check out the number of people who put away chairs and tables and clean up at the end of one of our village hall events. So well done BH3 and here’s to many more years of fun and runs.

Bring On On 2013!

Up and Coming



Grid Reference






New Years Day Live Trail
The Calleva Arms
Silchester RG7 2ND
On Out from Playing Field Car Park





*Change of venue due to floods*

“Mad Hatters Bring a Hat Hash”
The White Horse
Emmer Green RG4 8SD





“Winter Warmer Soup Run”
The Victory Room (Not the other Hall)
Bucklebury Village RG7 6PN
(Please bring your own booze + glass + £2 tick)

Skids Birthday Run with Nutty