Run No 1009
Venue White Swan Wendover
Hare: Matt
Date 27 12 2011
Hounds: 20 + 4 dogs
Scribe: The Unsuspecting Sandra!
Firstly, I was cruelly tricked into writing this run's report (more later), Secondly it was the most perfect HASH conditions ever and Matt had lavished six, yes SIX bags of flour marking it out!
We were the first to arrive, so taking up poll position in the car park, we were able to watch three of our ensemble entering then reversing out of the Staff Only car park next door, this did not bode so well. Alan popped out to use the loo closely followed by Mick who very helpfully observed ‘yes they were shut last time we hashed here!’. The last arrivals were Matt and Ros in their white van.
Wendover had been deserted when we drove through, but the car park was soon a noisy hubbub of keen and eager runners. OK maybe a slight bit of exaggeration on the enthusiasm part, but some people were limbering up and stretching which was a bit worrying. Mick keenly suggested we went straight for the ‘on inn’ but this was ignored by the pack.
Matt informed us that it would be a short, flat HASH with no shiggy. We didn’t believe him, but actually he was telling the truth. He also told us to ignore the ‘old flour’ from the previous weeks BASH (oh dear, how can you tell the age of flour in the dark with a flash light?), and that he had had to detour part of the route after being escorted off the premises by the army (gulp).
We headed out of the car park with the cries of two very vociferous dogs echoing around the empty streets. One person checked left and one checked right whilst the rest of us waited… nothing. A few more people went either way and then there were shouts of amazement, the check circle was so big it had been missed! We all gathered round to marvel. It was car tyre sized, with copious amounts of flour and perfectly symmetrical. It was awesome! Unfortunately no-one had a camera to record it for posterity so we carried on and to our utter surprise the rest of the markings were equally well endowed.
From the high street we took a right into the houses. Admiring the Christmas decorations we wound our way through to the Grand Union Canal where three of our four legged friends had a paddle, and Ros demonstrated her excellent poker skills by convincingly running up the false trail with the rest of us unfortunates. It was around here that we noticed that Graham seemed to have developed a post hugging fetish, which we like to hope was because he had cramp, but we were too polite to ask.
Past some more houses then along a dismantled railway to Halton and the long short split. The shorts being advised to steer clear of the Ghurkhas, were somewhat dismayed to see a sign post indicating that Wendover was one and a half miles away. No super short cutting for them! In fact they were able to follow the well marked route and arrived back in the car park only fractions before us.
Twelve brave souls elected for the long and carried on through Haton church yard where the military tombstones were especially spooky in the moonlight. Then through the Military Base past several NO ENTRY signs expecting soldiers to pop out of the ground besides us and whisk us away for interrogation. I’d got a little behind at this point and caught up with the group at some old ruins to hear Roger asking ‘Who would do it?’, ‘Do what?’ I foolishly asked, thinking he meant recite some Shakespeare or such in this natural amphitheatre. ‘Ah well volunteered’ he replied, and hence I sit here writing (note to self do not ask questions in future, especially to Roger!)
We carried on up to Aston Hill where Matt had set a very nasty double false, both up hill which fooled all of us including Ros, who confessed that she’d forgotten the route. Along the back of the barracks which were eerily quiet apart from the odd owl hoot (or soldier pretending to be an owl). Then back onto roads, one of which had been made from glass and glistened in the torch light, then down some steps and into the still deserted high street.
The pub doesn’t server food, so Matt and Ros had prepared a feast of sausage rolls, pineapple and cheese sticks, cocktail sausages, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and chocolate log. Starting of a riot of conversations on the weirdest sandwich fillings we had sampled. In Dave's absence Roger made the evening speech, but we were too busy eating and chatting to listen (no change there then!). Thanks for an outstandingly well marked, flat and not muddy HASH.
Run Number : 1108
Date : 20th December 2011
Venue : The Royal Standard of England, Forty Green
Hare : Dan
Hounds : 38
Scribe : Mick Jones
Jingle bells, jingle bells, hashing all the way ..... well that’s enough of that. YES – it’s the Crimbo run hosted by Dan from the beautiful R S of England.
In the car park assembled hashers with some fine xmas costumes. There was Maggie’s cake hat, Roger’s brilliantly inventive John Lewis parcel posted, of course, to himself, Dick’s super oversized festive hat, GM’s light festooned torso and a whole lot more xmas crackers, but I think the prize has to go to Matt for his “bed sheet” angel replete with wings. Definately a feminine side there somewhere!!
After Dan’s brief into – “short, flat er yes there’s a split”, we were off down Brindles Lane and out into the wide open country.
Now one thing Dan didn’t mention was the copious amounts of mud on offer, this together with some nasty cow rear end emissions. We slip slid along, went through a particularly pongy gate where the floor was festooned with aforementioned dung, to arrive in Jane’s field where we briefly seranaded her with a carol before Dan called us left up through more muddy fields passing Jevington House.
We ran past Church Path Wood and the delightfully named Strawberry Plot, where of course there are no strawberries to run alongside Witheridge Lane. It was here, at the next check, where Phil “Top Trumped” Barney by having the same reindeer hat but with the cunning addition of a battery induced flashing nose. A noisy nose to nose battle set in with a draw being declared a fair result.
It was noticeable that our hash angel was having a bit of a struggle in parts where his Boeing sized wings were catching in the surrounding foliage but he struggled on humming Ave Maria.
Now at around this point the GM raised the subject of where Moose’s xmas apparel had got to with our horizontal hero admitting that his festive wear had been left behind in his rush to get to the hash and was “still on the lounge table”.
On on, passing Corkers Wood and then Saunder’s Wood where a short/ long split was declared and then withdrawn on account of the apparent brevity of the short route from this point. So we all ran, flapped or flashed on along another side of said woods before hanging a left down to Hill Lane.
It was here that the GM, by virtue of the fact he knows every road, track and path in Bucks, extolled the virtues of a run straight up the lane and on inn. However, the virtuous amongst us (that definitely don’t include me), urged on by Dan, instead chose to jog up Red House Lane to the real short/long split where us shorts, including an upset but still illuminated GM, went left along a well known and, for a change, very muddy path.
We emerged from the edge of Longfield Wood at a stile where, as a bloomin great sign told us in no uncertain terms not to take the obvious left path, we went right towards Parsonage Farm. It was shortly figured out that next left kept us on trail and it was here that we met an Elf in the shape of Yob.
Arriving late, with true hashing genius, he had opted to go the wrong way round including a goodly length of trail with absolutely no flour as it was absolutely the wrong way. Led enthusiastically by this little green fellow, with a very natty line in green elf shoes (with mud!) we charged on, avoiding the “On Inn” and, as us short cutters tend to do, adding on an extra and unsolicited half mile or so.
Back at the superb boozer, with mud and sweat stained hats still in place, Roz and Matt unfurled an array of goodies as it was Roz’s birthday on the morrow, whilst Dan had kindly organised copious quantities of very yummy chips which were dispatched in true hash fashion.
Those customers who’s unfortunate lot was to sit on a table next to our patch were quickly up and outa there, particularly when the time honoured “Oi” was announced, and were last seen legging it towards the car park covering their ears.
Thanks to Dan for a super, if squelchy, run and superb chips. Happy Hashing Xmas to one and all.
Run No 1106
Hash: The Chequers @ Wheeler End
Date: 13th December 2011
Hare: Mick & Aud
Scribe: Gerry
Hares: 30
Huddling in the car park of the Chequers, hashers were complaining bitterly about the cold when, exactly on the dot of four and a half minutes late, the hare told us what we were in for on the hash. To be honest his description of the awfulness of the mud and ploughed fields did not do much to raise our spirits.
Then came the confession that, as the hash had been laid the day before and as we had had both snow and torrential rain since then, the flour might be somewhat sparse. Our spirits fell still further and there was talk of rebellion (i.e. the beer in the pub, and to be more specific, avoiding the hash by going straight in and drinking it).
Just a hundred yards from the off came the long short split, with the shorts (sensibly) staying on the road and the longs heading off on a muddy path with little to recommend it except several back checks (the last of which was ignored despite much calling of on-back).
A swift left and right, courtesy of Dick’s map reading skills plus a singular lack of flour, brought us to our second icky-coated path of the evening. Though it was a (very) long path we were entertained / worried (delete as appropriate) by Dick who kept muttering to himself, and anyone that went near him, that he wasn’t at all sure we were on the right track.
We eventually reached the path’s nadir and Dick announced that even if we weren’t on the right path we were “probably” heading in the direction of the shorts, though he pointedly ignored the question of “Whose shorts?” Exchanging one muddy track for another we eventually spied a torch flashing on the horizon, so four of us promptly checked in that direction whilst the remainder of the pack discussed the fact that the path could be in any of several directions (No pulling the wool over a hashers’ eyes!).
With one minor diversion down a muddy hill, we eventually caught up TO Barney and Aud – and yes, despite the cold, they were flashing us.
Being charitable, I guess I could say that the (muddy)ploughed field made a change from the (muddy) paths in both quantity and quality! Half way through the next wood I checked left - so the path was called straight on. This was a pity as it later transpired that route actually was left. And so we began an extra delightful (if muddy) loop in the (muddy) woods which, by a strange quirk of fate, brought us back to the same point. Also strange was the fact that the route we took, the route marked on the map and the route marked in flour on the trail were all completely different. A fact acknowledged by Hare Mick sometime later, with a gentle “OOPs.” But as the field and wood loop were enlivened by a full-on-and-rolling-in-the-mud moose by Hawkeye and another, reportedly even more spectacular, moose by Moose, nobody minded very much.
Eventually we reached the Marlow Road and took a just created path parallel to and avoiding the road. On-On across (another) muddy field into (the muddy) Widdenton Park Wood and up the (muddy) hill and around the reservoir. I checked one way, got called back up the hill and, just as I arrived, the map-man of the evening rushed at me yelling “This way”, so I turned and ran (possibly scared somewhat by Dick’s new “Amish” look facial hair). When he caught up he told me we were going the wrong way (which it turned out was much longer), but there was a road in that direction so (he said) it didn’t matter.
A quick dash of a mere 1650M (I checked it on the GPS) and three of us were back at the pub. The rest of the hash, having wimpishly taken the shorter trail, arrived some 5 – 15 minutes later.
The pub was enlivened with chips and the usual quiet and shy announcements from the GM. They were probably important, possibly interesting – but we are a hash so they were steadfastly and rigorously ignored.
Run No 1105
Hash: The Cock & Rabbit @ The Lee
Date: 6th December 2011
Hare: Gerry
Scribe: Sarah
A rather cold bunch of hashers gathered in the car park of the Cock and Rabbit on Tuesday evening, freezing our festive roasted nuts off. Firstly, Gerry was reunited with his shoe that he managed to leave in the pub car park the previous week (how do you leave just one shoe?). Virgin hashers were spotted by their very clean green trainers and introduced. Not green for long goes through the minds of seasoned hashers, perhaps a more autumnal brown. Off we go out of the pub car park turning right towards Lee Common.
It was time for the usual mutiny at the long short split. The shorts split off at Grove Wood and headed pub bounds with the promise of shiggy. Shiggy they certainly got! According to the shorties they played a game of hunt the flower and how high can the shiggy get. Results from the competition revealed the shiggy came up over the ankles and runners relying on Mick for directions as he was the trusted one with the map. I hear you all asking, “is Mike still with you?” Thankfully, the short runners returned to the pub with Mike in tow. Mike was kept on a tight lead (thanks to Cassie) to ensure he doesn’t try to smuggle back a cheese burger from the nearest service station.
Meanwhile, the medium and longs continue through the fields with the most amount of cow dung any hasher has seen before. We were bouncing like Zebedee left and right to avoid it. Unfortunately, inevitable happened and the smell was potent. Eventually we managed to escape the field of poo and the noises that can only be truly appreciated using the International Phonetic Aplhabet (IPA) stopped. Such as as /yʌk/¥Þ /ɛr/õĦ /u/ñæ and /ʃɪt/. Another split, this time for the mediums. Jo realised that she would now have to carry the key as she would be first back. However, the lack of pockets resulted in a possible problem. Helen quickly shouts ‘put it in your knickers’. After deliberation Jo puts the key securely in her trousers and off they run.
Running back towards the pub through Kingswood, past some other lovely looking pubs, and on into Lee Gate. Continuing the loop back round to the pub we entered the pub car park after a very enjoyable run. Inside the pub we were greeted by a feast of gorgeous chips, sausages and olives. Washed down with a pint purchased on the ever increasing yuletide overdraft. Ale was the beverage of choice with a decent selection on offer. This Tuesday was Toscar night. There could be many nominations given the Toscar behaviour which has been witnessed over the last few weeks. It could be to Mike for being a McDonalds smuggler at Beaconsfield services or Gerry for losing a shoe. No, this week’s Toscar goes to someone who apparently has never had one before, which was a surprise to me! Ade is the Toscar of the month, and we all cheered with euphoria and upswing! Des looked rather upset that he had to hand back the Toscar and Ade protested that really the Toscar should go to Mike. I wonder if we have a red Mexican Santa on the 20th December?
Thanks Gerry for a very enjoyable Hash and great food!
The Blonde started collecting money for the hash Christmas party so please being monies next week!
Run No 1105
Hash: The Junction @ Loudwater
Date: 29th Nov 2011
Hare: Anthony & Sarah
Scribe: Phil
Anthony and Sarah found us a different venue for the hash this week, right in the middle of High Wycombe, well away from woods and mud (I wrongly thought!). It was a cool evening, but we had luckily escaped the worst of the rain which fell during the late afternoon. It was good to see the return of Sandra (Mrs Alan) after a good few years absence. Anthony greeting the assembled rabble and explained that the short run would be flat, to the delight of the short cutting society. Sarah warned us to keep an eye out for the new hash symbol – a pair binoculars at the spot where we could (really this time) see Ade’s house.
We set of at a gentle amble through the retail park, entering into jaunty banter with the yooves of the town and began our tour of the culinary highlights of High Wycombe passing first Pizza Hut and shortly afterwards KFC. Following the trail along the river we had several on backs to keep the pack together, including a rather ambitious 10 back! Soon we came to the old railway bridge and the long short split. The shorts continued straight on as the longs turned left and over the bridge emerging o the road not that far from Ade’s house. Would we be having a beer stop this early in the run? Any hopes were dashed as we turned right and then left starting to climb up through Deansgarden Woods. Ade was heard to acclaim enthusiastically “this is a bugger this hill!” as he shot off up the path in the wrong direction. We regrouped close to the top for Anthony to explain that we would be running through the air base and should keep to the main path to avoid the deployment of a small tactical nuclear weapon.
Now we followed part of the route of the Wycombe Half and arrived at Marlow hill close to Handy Cross. Ah ah – it would be a beer stop at Gerry’s house, or maybe Andy’s then? Thwarted yet again we started to trog off toward Cressex trading estate. At least we knew it was not going to be up hill from here and we soon turned right through a long alley all the way back down to the valley bottom, stopping for a short break on the way to admire the views of High Wycombe lit up in the valley below us. Marvellous sight all those multi story car parks and shopping centres! At the bottom of the hill we arrived at Bucks New University. Andy thought he had found the trail, but Anthony called us back for a short detour around the university campus, including an impromptu circle around the Xmas tree. A bit too early for carols – but Im sure that will come in the next few weeks. After a pleasant trot through the Rye we arrived back at the old railway bridge about 10 past 9. Anthony explained there was the option of another loop for those who were keen, but surprisingly had no takers; not even Helen, who was “revolting” this evening (sic) and we were happy to trot back to the pub.
Apparently the short cutters did do this extra loop and were treated the aforementioned new hash symbol indicating the vista which included Ades abode (ie they could see Ades house from there!) I’m also reliably informed that there was another first on this loop; Mick checking downhill – surely not; after all these years and hundreds of hashes you’d think he would know better by now?!?
Back at the pub we met up with Dan who had arrived late and then followed the short route in reverse – another American who can also get lost despite the country being “the size of a postage stamp” (for those of you who fondly remember Lenore!). It was a busy night in the pub for the hash with awards to Jo for her impression of Marilyn Monroe (I missed that treat) and to Gerry for 800 hashes!! A friendly landlord, good beer and chips – another successful evening thanks to Anthony and Sarah!
Run No 1104
Hash: The Royal Oak, Farnham Common
Date: 22nd Nov 2011
Hare: Phil
Scribe: Ian
Well there was me worrying about what I was going to put into the Hash Trash this week, and then the night unfolded, it was like an ATM that had gone wrong. . . it just kept giving and giving.
It all started en-route with Sooper and I disagreeing with the little lady that resides in my Sat Nav, I think she was just having a laugh with us! So I turned her off as we entered Farnham as “we obviously knew where the pub was now don’t we”. Well maybe not as Sooper shouts “No its not that one Ian” as I signalled to pull into the first pub. We then decided to pull into the car park on the left and get togged up with touches and dirty boots, lock the car and sprint across the road to our Second wrong pub of the evening. Who knew there were more than one pub in Farnham? Ok back in the car race 300 yards to the Royal Oak where the luminescent pack had gathered, gabbled and got on with it.
We were off,
A fairly steady start travelling left out of the pub and sneaking into Great Burnt Coppice on the left, running on a board-walk. Mick said he would quite like to take home the decking as he has been meaning to put some down at his house for a while now. On-on we ran, down Dukes Drive, oddly, on a tarmac road while in the woods? A couple of checks and then deeper into the Burnham beeches woods we went. Visibility was poor, fog, mist, dark and torches don’t seem to be too compatible.
Bang! down goes the first one of the night, Roger takes a Moose, see told you it was dark in here.
Long /Short split for the first time and then we found the comfort of Park Lane road for a 100m or so. We then turned back into the shiggy filled woods where we picked up the “Shakespeare’s Way” it was that or “Marlowe’s Path” it’s a job to see the sign in the fog. It was at this point that Roger asked me one of his questions “How fast could those girls (Helen & Bryony) run if they didn’t talk so much?” he was comparing them to a couple of jet engines mounted backwards onto a plane. “Boveney Wood Lane” was our next step onto dry land but this didn’t last long as we were straight back into the Egyptian Woods (am I wrong in thinking of sand dunes and hot sun when mentioning Egypt?). A tricky crossing of the A355 lead us down hill to Penlands farm, Long / short split again, “Longs” went straight on, “Shorts” went right and “Mike” went left on his own. . . (we think he was off in search of the “lesser spotted Latte” from Costa coffee in the M40 Service Station?) Luckily no-one saw him go and no-one noticed he was missing? Great friends we are? On-on down Kiln lane and then a sharp right into the fenced in area which offered us a slippery uphill with on-back, thanks Phil!
Bang! Down goes the second Moose, Andy went for a great overtaking manoeuvre on Ros and got his leg snared in the fence for his trouble. That reminds me, Matt and Ros where there at the start???? Across Parish Lane and onto Christmas Lane, (oops did I say the C word, only 3 weeks to go now you know). “One Pin Lane” lead us onto the playing fields where we all tried to cross straight over, two unobservant hashers got caught in the cricket square ropes and the rest of us found ourselves too far across the park and were shouted to On-Back into a hole in the hedge.
Well, this was the entrance to an Adult Narnia, Cakes, Flapjacks, Rice-crispy caramels, chocolates, juices and best of all Grahams “Home Brew”. We did however have to sing for our treats as 3 Hashers had birthdays this week. A little jog back to the pub and we are treated again to Chips and a warm pub. Well most of us. . .there is the small mater of Mike, anyone seen him? Was he in the pub already? Nope, so we all tried and remember where we saw him last, some were saying it was easier to remember when it went quiet, but I am not sure what they were on about? 9.15 went, 9.30 went too, so did the chips, must be getting serious if the chips were gone and still no Mike, so, a search party was formed at 9.45 and after much deliberation of where he was last seen we were just about to leave as Mike walks in.
Glad you are safe Mike, but if you ever come back from the Service Station again without cheeseburgers for us all there will be trouble!!
Great hash Phil, and thanks to Graham too.
Run No. 1103
Date 15th November 2011
From The Hare and Hounds, Marlow
Hounds 28
Hares Ian
Scribe Barney
Heralding the start of another hash from the aptly named Hare and Hounds, Gemma, the wired hair terrier, yelped with excitement to join Cassie to celebrate another old dog’s birthday. - Happy 71st David.
Oddly our hare Ian started with an apology for setting his first hash with no hills! Not a problem in my book but he was under a misapprehension that hash hills were obligatory and intended to put this right this evening, an admirable approach, but it will not improve your popularity Ian, keep to those nice flat runs. There was a short hash of 3.5 miles and a longer of 5.5 miles.
Setting off in the direction of Marlow I thought a wee bit of window shopping, pub crawl and a bit of night life could make for a cracking evening out in Marlow. First check dispelled all this as we beat a trail up a cul-de-sac leading to a grassy path along a cold steep sided valley chilled by the trapped evening air.
The next check provided ominous thoughts of a steep climb to come, although Jones was convinced that we would never go left up a near sheer cliff face, he was proved wrong and the first hill was scaled followed by a quick left then right into an open field leading to civilisation know as Bovingdon Green, where a fine hostelry know as the Royal Oak can be found. Not that there were any natives heading in that direction, obviously all glued to the goggle box watching the 8 o’clock soaps.
The hash did not hang about but found a track between properties leading to a check two ways across an open field. A couple of on-backs slowed progress down but by the time we got to the next check on the road I was last as usual.
Well! Our location was revealed by a notice board declaring this was Marlow Common indicating “you are here” and a collection of the Commons finest points of interest. On-on into the wood and more checks as we meander our way through the maze of paths to an opening into a field and a check declared as the short/long split.
Very glad I was going short, the hill in front of us went on and on, you could see for miles if you made it to the top, that is if it wasn’t dark! We small bunch set of from the check left watching the fitter strive to the hill top until crossing a road and into the cover of Davenport wood where so many possible paths eventually led us to much confusion until a road that ran through the wood was found. Finding the tarmac to be far more convenient we followed this until it came to a fork and another check was discovered. The trail was sort to the left of the road leading to the edge of the wood revealing a view of the same cold valley we had started out on. Hence to the end of the hash, a long plod down the valley spurred on by the on-inn to the Hare and Hounds.
The long trail continued on a loop that circled Marlow Common through Homefield wood and picking up part of the footpath route named Shakespeare’s Way and rejoining the shorter hash at the road through Davenport wood.
Back at the Hare and Hounds we all celebrated David’s birthday in traditional fashion and a fest of excellent chips, pork scratching and sausages. Thanks for a well laid hash, Apart from the first hill they were not too taxing on the short trail so well done Ian and I look forward to your next hash keep up the good work.
Run Number : 1102
Date : 8.11.11
Venue : The Golden Cross @ Saunderton
Hare : Barney
Hounds :Awaiting
Scribe : Helen
Just going through yesterday’s emails and come across one from Jo warning me to steer clear of Gerry on the hash or risk being tasked with the run report. As I walked straight into Gerry on arrival at the hash, and am now in the process of writing the run report, I think that I probably failed on that front!
So onto the run......Mr Bellamy and I arrived at the car park and lit up in the glow of our headlights was a rather chilly looking Ewan! Absolutely lovely to welcome him back into the hash fold, although I think he was starting to remember the difference in climate between Australia and a rather damp and dark Saunderton in November and possibly have second thoughts. But he didn’t have to worry about the cold for long as we started straight up the first of many hills of the evening. Certainly got the hearts pumping and warmed us all up nicely / nearly killed us – delete as applicable.
What didn’t appear was any flour, a theme that lasted for most of the evening! But our hill climbing efforts were rewarded with a bit of resistance training i.e. our legs were resisting running through a field of thick claggy mud which built up into wedges beneath our soles. Some of us revelled in being a bit taller and Andy pointed out he couldn’t afford the extra weight, although he should be saved from sinking by his size 13 feet. For me he advised making sure my head torch stayed above ground so they knew where to dig me out – is he implying I’m too heavy????!
Eventually we made it to firmer ground, though still no sign of flour which meant the FRB’s had a welcome respite from the expected on back and set about some serious chatting. So much so that by the time ‘Supervisor Simon’ called us to ‘check it out’ we’d almost forgotten we were supposed to be running at all! Although the words ‘hot tub’ haunted me into action and off we set again, I’m sure up another blinking hill.
About this point that Dick noticed that the incredibly pleasant new hasher stood next to him was in fact our long lost pal, Ewan. Only took him a few miles to notice!
After nearly 3 miles (with the short having been advertised as 3 miles ;-) ) we arrived at the long short split. No flour to mark the occasion but plenty of wittering from David and Roger.....something about a secret bunker I think but couldn’t be sure as busy with wittering of my own with Bryony, Amber and Audra. The GM lead off the shorts (and somehow Mark managed to sneak off with them too!) and the longs headed up to Naphill and along to the back of Shana riding school. Brought back a few childhood memories for a few of us horsey lot.
Here the lack of flour throughout the hash was compensated for by a plethora of shiggy. Mud mud glorious mud everywhere, accompanied by a choir of girlie screams for each cold wet foot experience. Dan also made an Oscar worthy performance, avoiding an inevitable moose in spectacular style, great hashing skills! We ploughed through the mud in the woods for a mile or so before ending up back at the Secret bunker spot. Not sure if this was a cunning plan from the hare or whether he’d just got completely lost. So we set off again down the trail which we’d seen the shorts take earlier. This brought back memories of the most hideous cross country race I’ve ever done, so I bored Bryony with stories of the pain, which she soon got to experience as Simon helpfully lead us up one of the horrible hills which illustrated the point perfectly. By this point we were in depleted numbers and the strain of the hills was starting to show. Anthony gallantly joined me on an on back to help keep the pack together but all the other usual FRB suspects chose to continue the theme of the evening – standing still and chatting.
We headed down across a very beautiful bridleway – oh if only we could have been on horses enjoying the perfect going – but alas we just had to keep our own legs moving. At the end of the field, having seen torches still heading down the previous hill, we tried to encourage another on back. But Ian and Simon had caught whiff of the beer & chips and weren’t having any of it. So a dedicated (or daft) few set of the back to collect Dashing Dick and then made haste to the pub. And here what Barney lacked in flour he made up for in some very delicious and plentiful chips J!
The GM then asked Ewan what it was like returning to the hash. His response.................’It’s got worse’! Surely after all that time down under he’s still thinking a bit topsy turvey and what he really meant was ‘it’s just as fabulous as I remembered’.
In the pub we also established that Ian sweats like a thoroughbred stallion (at least that’s what he’d told Amber) and that talking to Roger can make you feel ill, you have been warned.
Thanks Barney for all those hills, the mud and most of all the chips!
Run Number : 1101
Date : 1.11.11 (Happy Binary day)
Venue : The Crown @ Hazelmere@ Pinkneys Green
Hare : Jo
Hounds :Hellish
Scribe : Sooper
Even allowing for the clocks falling it was a dark hash. The moon barely managed to struggle over the horizon as ghouls and monsters emerged from the gloom (and a Ford Fiesta in one case) to gather in the shadow of Holy Trinity Church. The bodies in the churchyard stayed as quiet as the grave probably too scared to rise.
Spectres and spiders, witches and warlocks, vampires and vamps, Roger dressed as a paper bag - each of the usual All Hallows fiends were there. But none so chilling, so eerie, so strange, as Des; dressed as a Mexican.
Jo and her wig explained the usual lack of rules and off we set down the footpath at the side of the car park. Simon's pumpkins flashing and warbling in the dark, Dick dressed as a fine Uncle Fester, looking not unlike his wedding photos (I've never actually seen Dick's wedding photos but it's a safe bet).
Down across Manor Road where my old Headmaster used to live... no idea why I know that he never invited me round, and then down on to St Johns's road (St John - son of Zebedee and Salome according to the internet. Salome being Mary's sister not the head on a plate lady. That'd make John Jesus's cousin which would make for an interesting Christmas). Anyway - where was I? Oh yeah, now running down Magnolia Dene (who had a couple of hits with Stock, Aiken and Waterman in the mid Eighties I seem to remember).
We shuffled along Hearne Close looking like a poor man's Thriller video and then into Hillside Road which I'm lead to believe is so named because it's a road on the side of a hill (thanks Wikipedia!).
Hillside Road then turns into St John's Road again, which either means that Wycombe District Council have a very unimaginative (or perhaps pious) planning department or at one point St Johns Road was much longer until part of it got swept away in the great Hazelmere landslide of '48. Ask Helen or Jo, this is their manor.
A right into Cock Lane and then Kingswood Avenue brought us down into, where else but Kings Wood (who knows where Cock Lane would have taken us). Along the top of the wood was some spectacular mud - I really think summer may be over now.
From there it was a long loop through the woods pausing only for a nasty false trail and an odd stop where Aud had to check on Ryan (fine vampire outfit) - I really don't know why.
We emerged from the woods onto Totteridge Lane (so called because it's a lane that totters along a ridge) and ran up towards The Beech Tree (if we'd started from there we'd be back by now.. but probably very, very wet).
From here we went across the road (careful now) and up towards the sports field. Here the shorts peeled off (careful again) back to the pub whilst the longs were sent on a longer loop around the top of the field - I guess that's the difference between us.
Back at the pub we didn't have a winner for the best costume - let's face it it would have been Ros - it always is, but we did have plenty of chips. The Tosca was awarded to Des, ostensibly for his Mexican costume but actually mostly out of pity. Thanks to Jo for a fine and spooky run.
Run Number : 1100
Date : 25th October 2011
Venue : The Golden Ball @ Pinkneys Green
Hare : Kev
Hounds : 28
Scribe : Sarah
Despite rain lashing down at 7:30pm nearly 30 hashers still appeared in the car park at the Golden Ball. For the first time in a long while parking spaces were plentiful! The usual huddle round the hare began and we listen to promises of a ‘flat’ run. Many hash faces looked dubious at this promise as we have been tricked by this comment before. It is at this moment that Gerry appears behind me and informs me that I have been selected. “Selected for what?” I ask in a hesitant voice. “The Hash write up! Roger says so!”. Therefore, I start this report with deep gratitude to both Sooper (for not turning up to write the report) and Roger (for nominating me!). Off we head in search for flour (which is like searching for a needle in a haystack after that much rain). On the edge of the woods hashers gather in anticipation for the call ‘on-on’. It is at this moment that we are over taken by THE WALKERS.
Eventually we are on our way through shiggy, over roots, ducking heads... We appear through these woods to be faced with crossing a rood. You would think this would be easy having crossed many roads before, but, we still ended up going the wrong way. Called back by the cry ‘On-back!’. We continued through Cookhamdean Common only to find, what appeared to be a hill. We knew it was too good to be true! A hash without an incline, never! However, the hill was not in the same league as Supper or Ade’s recent hashes. For that we are grateful. Running across the flat field at the top Hawkeye shouts “I can see a path!”. We were not sure what he actually saw but the flies at the top of that hill definitely did not see Hawkeye coming; managing to kill thousands of them with is killer light. Negotiating more rough terrain Kev requests that no visits to A & E happen on his watch. That has never happened before, has it Kev?!
Although, one could question the safety to the hashes scientific experiment they devised on this run. Some bright sparks wanted to see if they could out run the speed sign on the road. A few sprinting attempts later and it was decided, that even though they could run fast, they could not run at 30mph.
As our run continues into Cookham Dean I hear Helen and Ant having a conversation about Sugar Daddies and how much it would cost. Fortunately, both decided it didn’t sound a good idea. Nearly three quarters of the way around Roz and Matt manage to catch up. I always thought it was Helen that was supposed to turn up late? Continuing past The Mount the shorts split from the longs. The shorts heads back via Beeching grove wood and the longs via Cannon Court Farm. Jane was far too busy chatting to notice the long-short split and ended up by default going long. It was at least 10 minutes before she realised and asked the question “How long will it be till the split?”. Maybe it was all the potent deodorant that we could smell along the track. The overpowering smell of men’s Lynx surrounded a car in the middle of the track. I don’t think they were expecting 20 odd hashers to pass them!
A noise is heard in the distance, Roger believes it to the Wycombe Wanderers Football Ground. Andy corrects him with ‘it’s a train’. Trying to back pedal Roger claims that the noise from the Football Court must have been reflected off the side of the train. Um...likely story as the ground is just over 8 miles away.
With a short stretch to go Phil and Andy become impatient wanting their pint of beer. Regressing to childhood they shout ‘Are we nearly there yet?’.
On returning to the pub we are greeted with fantastic chips provided by Kevin and fantastic cake from Marte. Roger stood to talk, surprisingly, no ‘Oi! This is important!’. After a few minutes of talk about evolution the punch line was that Phil and Dick are pinnacles in the evolutionary process. This is determined by the amount they sweat! It is true, they do make the hash look like a wet T-shirt competition. Anyway, thanks were given to Dick for his fantastic Bike Bash at the weekend and Roger praised him and his tools! Lots of T-shirts were presented. Andy received one for 50 runs with a picture of him with bunny ears (our very own Playboy Bunny). His claim was that there are worse photos of him on Facebook. Gerry, you will have to search out these pictures! Maggie (Charlie Chaplin) received a shirt for 200 runs and Matt (Blonde Bomb Shell) for 350 runs.
Finally, a sad good bye to Marte who is relocating to Devon. We wish her all the best and hope she will come back and see us.
A great run Kevin, no A & E visits, no lost hashers, minimal inclines, great chips and in the pub before 10. Well done!
Run Number : 1099
Date : 18th October 2011
Venue : The Ship @ Marlow
Hare : Sooper
Hounds : Awaiting
Scribe : Mike C
In response to the “Encores” and “Once more with feeling, maestro” chorused as one by the longs after last week’s twin circuit of The Plough at Hyde Heath, the brevity of that r*n deserves the brevity of the report for this one.
Many gathered at The Ship. Brionie chose instead to attend a night-time horsey event, thus surrendering her chances of receiving an under- or over-sized t-shirt for completing her second run.
The night was dry. The trail went uphill and downhill through woods. Distant views of Marlow by night. The long run was long. The short became the long when those on the short got lost and had to wait for the longs to get them sorted and home.
Aud and Barnie stayed out of both, preferring to watch the space station passing overhead (at some distance) was more their bag.
Mick tripped. His £1 torch flew downhill. Anthony and Dan flew downhill after it and kicked it further before returning it to its crippled owner.
We all came back to The Ship: some drank beer, some soft drinks or hot chocolate. No chips added to the evening’s pleasures.
Those dogs that had tails wagged them: Cassie wiggled her entire rear.
There was an “Oi”: some listened, fewer remembered. Supercoops and Ade, clocking a combined 1,000 r*ns, received the under- and over- sized t-shirts that would surely have looked better on Brionie.
We all went home.
Run Number : 1099
Date : 11th October 2011
Venue : The plough @ Hyde Heath
Hare : Mike C
Hounds : 30
Scribe : Ade
Am dram directors produce early pantomime.
It’s a lovely setting, warmish evening, just right for running. Nice pub, on the green, with plenty of parking. Experienced hare. Hash checked by Judy, not new to this sort of thing, good turnout of hashers, all of whom had hashed before. What then, could possibly go wrong?. Nothing really, well not for the first mile and a half anyway. Nice easy trail to follow, well-marked, absolutely no problem. Dull you might call it, but that was about to change.
As we emerged from a wooded path, Gerry checked right, while the rest of the hash carried on down the hill towards the trees in the distance, convinced that Gerry was wrong. On On, came the shout with some annoyance, eventually the pack started to climb up the hill towards the shouting, not overly pleased to be going back up the hill again. Heads down the pack struggled up the hill, not noticing that Gerry had ran five metre's (Ed’s aside in the interest of honesty – 150 Metres) to the right and then came down the hill towards the pack like a bowling ball, calling on on as he went, leaving the hash dazed and confused. We tucked in behind and hashed on. Through the woods across a field and up to the road.
Now it was my turn to throw a spanner into the works. I checked right and found an On check, and called it. Only the "O" that I had seen was not an on check, but an "On Inn". This rattled the hash. Hashing for 35 minutes, only gone a couple of miles, can't be the on inn, can it. Heads where scratched, chins where rubbed, and a map was produced. Nice looking map! lots of coloured lines, snaking here and there and 1/25000 detail. No good though, to dark and gloomy and no reading glasses.
Cometh the hour, and cometh the man, in the shape of our G M in waiting, Benchbreaker the younger so to speak. When all were for going round again, yeah I know round again, bless my soul!! Roger suggested heading down a lane called Bullbaiters. This didn’t go down well I would imagine with Jo, as she's not fond of cows, and now we are in for a bit of bullbaiting. The trail was good. So on we went.
At chalk lane the (short cutter-s) flour trail ran out. The pubs at the top of the hill, let’s go that way, and so we did. After about half a mile, some flour appeared, no kidding! by some woods. Don't check down there, that will put 2 miles on the hash, chipped in Ken, So we didn't, WRONG!!. Much better to continue through the housing estate. Of course there wasn't flour, but by now that wasn't the point, the point was, that we had put a bit more on the hash and we were happy. Never mind that Mike had set 2 or 3 miles of hash that we would not run, the pub was close, it had gone 9 and that was good enough.
In the pub, the chips and beer were very welcoming, as they always are. The map was produced again, with all its coloured lines, and its 1/25000 detail, but still no reading glasses. We struggled for a while, scratched heads and rubbed chins, and wondered how it all went tits up. Who cares anyway, and map was screwed up and chucked on the fire. Meanwhile that left Des explaining what a good thing hashing was, to the only two other people in the pub, that's the spirit.
Nice area next week, experienced hash, nice pub, etc etc. I'll bring my reading glasses. On On Moose!
Run Number : 1098
Date : 4th October 2011
Venue : The Chequers @ FIngest
Hare : Ade
Hounds : 36
Scribe : Roger
When the hare stood up to give his opening pronouncements, you could be forgiven for thinking that Sam was there, not only in spirit, but in person.
Ade is a Frog (Skirmett) man, not a Chequers man. Sam was a Chequers man.
Yet, there we were listening to Sam-like descriptions.
Bronze run, 2 hills (that Sam would not get out of bed for).
Silver, 4 hills (getting better).
Gold, 5 hills (still quite easy but would just suffice).
To those of us who were not, and are not, neutrino powered mechanitrons, Gold standard seemed a world away. Something that other people do when training to climb everest.
Before the true horror had time to trouble our minds we were off. Left towards Skirmett with St Bartholomews on our right.
We maintained a good pace for 100m that was reduced to a stumble when we bore right along a root riddled route. Tick tock as we chatted at the check before heading up the first of our hills.
According to my map there is no path up the right hand side of Mill Hanging Wood, but that is where we (according to Gerry’s GPS, so it must be true).
(Aside. As I look closely at the map, I see that there is also a Hanger Wood, a Hick Hanging Wood and a Hatchet Wood. Either the words had different meanings in olden day or they were a blood thirsty bunch).
The path lead left through said wood and then became really steep. That is when our walking pace became sloth pace as we ascended to Cobstone Mill (disused). This did not go down well with our resident dynamo. I don’t know what she was on, but suspect that it was a helping of her horses’ oats. Cajoling us to pick the pace up did not work and fortunately her crop was left at home.
Down towards Turville where the Bull and Butcher looked so inviting. But we skipped by. We were on a mission. That mission was to go even higher, to Turville Court. (Hill 2).
Half way up this climb there was a stile with an alternative squeeze through by its side. It quickly became apparent that it was a matter of pride to demonstrate that one was thin enough to negotiate the squeeze, even if it did entail on occasion that stomach be sucked up into chest. Pride was not enough for Paul T. He went over the stile, explaining later that he had always had big bones.
Left again at Turville court on our ccw tour, skirting Home Wood as we dipped down and up again before reaching Southend (Sarf end?? It was Ade’s run). (Hill 3?) Tick tock, tick tock.
The hare now urged us on to make our best pace down a wonderful farm track. Time was running even faster than we were. Nine o’clock was in danger of becoming a memory.
Back down at Dolesden Lane, Roz (M) said that there was someone behind her (not boogie woogies in the wood this time), so we went back to look. No one on the track. But what was that? A light in the field on the other side of the (thick) hedge. Paul T gets a mention again. How he got there not even he knows. But when faced with the option of retracing his steps all the way uphill (or not) he chose the “tear your clothes to shreds” option and hacked his way through the hawthorne.
Coombe Wood followed which I think was Hill 4 (of the gentle sort) and down to Skirmett where we should have started the Hash.
Hill 5 beckoned but was ignored. Even the hare was feeling the effects. For him it would have been hill 10. So we took the easy option and ran along the valley back to the pub.
There we found out that the short cutters had got lost (again. Having read last week’s trash I found out that only local knowledge lead the SCs back to the pub. The flour trail and map being completely superfluous). This they resorted to Steve P’s GPS tracker. “Oh I blush to think upon this ignomy.” How low can they sink. Anyway, for this Steve got the Tosca award.
The presentation ceremony was noteworthy not only for the quality of the chips and dips (thank you Ade) but for the level of barracking that the GM got when making his announcement. Quite out of proportion to the moderate behaviour of the hashers. What was going on?
Suddenly Helen spotted the culprit lurking underneath a table. It was a spider. An unbelievably noisy spider. If you listened carefully you could just make out a message. Something along the lines of “10% discount at Bassetsbury Balloons”. Talk about product placement. Well, Helen was so outraged at this spider interrupting the GMs most important speech that she leapt up and screamed abuse back at the eight footer, then stormed off to complain to the landlady. That shut the beast up. And the spider.
Thank you Ade for a Hash of which Sam would have been proud. |
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