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Run Number: |
1863 05Aug13 |
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Visit the
website – http://www.berkshirehash.co.uk |
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Venue: |
The Red Lion, Peppard |
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Hares: |
SkinnyDipper, 2Bob |
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Lionhearts
Booby Skids Simple Donut Hashgate Swallow Slowsucker Slippery Snowy Florence Zebedee TT2 Motox Iceman Jenks Tweeny Kate PennyPitstop Ms Whiplash Desperate Shitfor Whinge TC Mr Blobby Utopia C5 OldFart Foghorn Slapper Nappyrash Fannybag Bogbrush Bumwiper Nick with children Benjamin (age 7) and Josephine (age 9) Dunny Rampant MessengerBoy Carloss Spot Dumper OldDog AWOL
Short, But Perfectly Laid
‘They seek him here; they seek him there’. Hare 2Bob was nowhere to be seen. We conjectured on his absence. Was he embarrassed about the Trail he’d laid with SkinnyDipper? Had they argued and she’d whacked him one with a handy log, burying his still twitching body in the forest? Was he still out there, laying the last of 13 or so miles? SkinyDipper advised us that he had an unavoidable appointment so we thanked him silently.
Now Donut had thought
she was going to get a Down Down following a six-point turn when backing into a
parking space the size of Bolton but she was pipped for it by Booby. Edging
forward into the side of the road where there is a hidden ditch he felt a
sudden slipping of the front wheels… and then, to the delighted squawks of the
rest of the Hash, he slid in. The good thing about Hashers is that, though they
may laugh like drains at one’s misfortune, they will always help you. Shitfor,
Simple and others manfully pushed at the front of the car. It was a bit of a struggle
before someone called out, “Will you take the handbrake off?” The other thing
that all the chaps seemed to have forgotten was that if Booby had sat in the
car, started the engine and put it into reverse the procedure might have gone a
tad smoother. Blokes eh? Duh!
We had a few returnees this evening. The rarely seen Tweenie and Kate, and young Jenks had reappeared. Unfortunately for Jenks (and for me) he and I were wearing brand new day-glo running slippers, which were spotted during the Gather Round. It is a long-held tradition that those foolish enough to sport pristine foot coverings have later to drink their Down Downs from them later and believe me, the shoes are never quite as clean as they started out. The day-glo and that strangely alluring plastic smell are long gone, to be replaced by splotches of shiggy and a less than alluring cheese. I was musing on the expectation as we squelched through some of the muddier areas in the forest.
Oh yes. The Trail. We On Outed the usual way. Very gratifying. Nice to know where one is going. Well, until we got to the bottom of the hill with five possibles from the Check and everyone shot off in a different direction like a bomb had been dropped in the middle of the Pack. We rather knew that we could have saved ourselves a lot of effort when we found ourselves back up the hill and out on to the road that led back to the pub. But, of course, we hadn’t finished yet. We helter-skeltered off towards the church and out into the country. Where heifers awaited us in the green valley. There was a fair bit of mooing and trampling about. Mainly by Fannybag and Donut who are rather worried by these long-eyelashed, inquisitive beasts. I’ve only seen them sprinting like that in a bovine environment and it was difficult to keep up with them. Especially when said beeves started wandering towards us as we approached the stile on the other side of the valley.
Now many of us seemed a bit less energetic than usual. Myself included. And it was somewhat galling to be overtaken by Nick and his young duo (see their ages above), who skipped past in a breeze of exuberant youthfullness. Not only are they excellent athletic ambassadors for their generation but they are also bilingual, alternately talking in fluent French or English as the mood takes them. There’s hope for the human race yet. As Bumwiper and I trotted down the road behind them Josephine stopped for a bit of a stretch, touching her toes briefly with super straight legs before speeding up to catch her brother. Nice kids.
The poppy field. We
entered it at an angle, running diagonally across it with the sun low in the
sky, emphasising the texture of the field and the green of the trees around it.
That the poppy stalks were now bare, with a little papery balloon atop each,
instead of a sea of red petals nodding in the breeze did not reduce our
enjoyment and Bumwiper and I talked of what the field will be like next year
when they are in full bloom. She wants to come back then and run through them
for her sister, who is quite ill and who has a dream of doing that very thing.
Hope you get to do it Kay – love to join you.
For the exhausted among us there was a treat. The route back was pretty direct so, unlike the 8-mile Trail Donut and I laid here some time ago, we ran just approximately 4 miles. Apart from the manic amongst us like C5, Mr Blobby and Zebedee who ran round most or all of it again. Still, at least they got back before the rain began to fall just as we started the Down Downs.
Out thanks to the Hares and let’s think ourselves very lucky that we have such beautiful countryside to run about in J
Let’s spare a thought for Billy and Cerberus. The old feller’s in hospital at the moment, driving the nurses nuts. We all look forward to seeing you both back with us very soon.
On On. Hashgate.
Down Downs
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Who Got It |
Why and How They Did |
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Simple |
Running on the walking Trail. A sprint ½ |
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C5 |
Foregetting to bring a change of clothes. Hardly a problem for the lad. |
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Booby |
Stock-car racing into the ditch. Straight in and Down. |
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3 virgins and a tiny baby |
Well they all got there eventually… except the baby of course |
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Jenks, Hashgate |
Enjoyed our drink from those smelly new shoes J |
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Slapper |
Tonight’s stumbling Hash Crasher eased it down |
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AWOL |
Because no-one could find his beer stop last week |
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SkinnyDipper |
Tonight’s sole remaining Hare slopped a goodly dollop over the RA only to get some back from him |
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Shitfor |
For being kind to his lady and showing up all the rest of the blokes |
Up and Coming
|
Run |
Date |
Grid Reference |
Venue |
Hares |
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1865 |
19Aug13 |
The Maltsters Arms |
OldFart Itsyor |
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|
1866 |
Monday 26 Aug |
SU386671 |
On To - The Blue Ball, |
Dwight Centaur |