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Run Number: |
1831 23Dec12 |
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Visit the
website – http://www.berkshirehash.co.uk |
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Venue: |
The Queen’s
Oak |
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Hares: |
Shandyman, LoudonTasteless |
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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
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Who Got It |
Why and How They Did |
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Fiddler |
Whimped out of running through a large puddle just before the Regroup. |
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BGB |
Being too fat to get through a kissing gate (he’s such a chubster!) |
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AWOL |
Arriving late and catching up with us very quickly at the Regroup. |
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C5 |
Being unable to see flour on the Trail (even though there was none to be seen) |
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Slapper |
For looking like Clark Kent (I think that’s what Shitfor said…) |
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Shandyman |
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
|
Run |
Date |
Grid Reference |
Venue |
Hares |
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n/a |
01Jan13 |
New Years Day Live Trail |
Hamlet |
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1833 |
06Jan13 |
SU720765 |
*Change of venue due to floods* “Mad Hatters Bring a Hat Hash” |
Hashgate |
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1834 |
13Jan13 |
“Winter Warmer Soup Run” |
Skids Birthday Run with Nutty |