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Run #1726 (St. Patrick's day run)
Hare: Poola Radcliffe
Location: Bright Hill Carpark, Guildford
On-Inn: The Albany
"In the old days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and hashers wore shorts...""
No, I remember how it goes now:
"In the old days, when knights were bold and the toilet lights were dim. I heard a splatter, then a splutter, good god! He's fallen in."
It's obviously got no bearing on this weeks write-up, but shows that my interest in poetry started at an early age.
The snow was always going to be a feature this week. There wasn't loads of it, but it was there.
In the carpark I caught up with the hare and his co-conspiritor who both claimed to have some qualifications related to chemistry. However, despite being witness to the results of what happened when you drop flour on someones head and then apply beer, they appeared to be unaware of what happened if you mixed something wet with something dry. The end result of this failure to grasp the fundamental properties of matter meant that it was not going to be possible to differentiate the white flour from the white snow.
Greasy Shaft really had picked a bad week to get back to hashing...
We set up hill, presumably Bright Hill. Lady Garden seemed to be already uphill, which might have lead a lesser scribe to say something about uphill gardening. This was followed by a rather difficult bit up an icy slope where any hashers who where worth their salt should have shown more grit.
After making our way to Pewley Down, scent marked again by Cynthia 'Dub-Lyn' and her coconuts, OTAHO avoided a snowball and made a rude gesture to Disappointing Hash Name who hadn't been the culprit. Sadly this failed to trigger further hostilities and we carried on running.
Aesop was a hasher you know - presumably a scribe. Yup, his tale about the hare and the tortoise was a thinly veiled reference.
Anyway, we headed down Pewley Hill towards St. Martha's trying to overtake the hare and get to the first drink stop. This was obviously a shot of that Irish favourite, Cactus Jack's Apple Schnapps. Following the stop I set off with Dr. P and quickly came upon the a check, I think it was the turd check. There hadn't been any flour leading to it, so it was whilst pondering whether I'd been on trail before finding it that I heard someone calling 'On' elsewhere.
If this was a film there would be a soft filter or something about now. Maybe some clouds and a bit of sky to indicate some sort of dream sequence or historical recollection.
When I started hashing I only followed true-trail. If I thought I'd hit the in-trail before time I'd be quiet about it and didn't even try to use the knowledge to help with other checks.
Now, roll on a few years...
I smiled a little. There was a tree-stump just near the check that looked about the right height for sitting on.
I placed the stump just by the check and worked on my expressions.
The aim was drop of smug, a good measure of old-salt, super-hasher, a dash of smart-ass and fineshed with an air of mystery.
Five minutes later I was sat on my stump bored.
I wrote a poem. I seemed to have misplaced my notes, but it went something like this.
"I'm sitting here,
without a beer,
but at least I'm not running around a great big hill like an idiot."
Let's not kid ourselves - it wasn't great. I felt it was more sophisticated than the one about the 'knights of old' referenced at the start of the notes though.
Five minutes after that no hashers had appeared, so I made a snowman to point the way to the next check. It was getting towards a time, given distance from the start, that I'd need to set of back to be at the end for 8:30 so that's exactly what I did, marking checks with wooden arrows made of stick as I solved them.
At this point I wasn't sure whether the thing had deteriorated to a glorious golden boot screw up or the pack had just given up due to cold weather and headed back.
Once back, I joined Wally in the pub who'd quit after circumnavigating a field and ending back at square one (maybe that should be squarecumnavigating, and possibly corner one rather than square one - I digress). Groper and Callgirl appeared next, none of whom seemed quite sure where anyone else was.
Wally stuck with the Irish theme and promptly ordered jacket potato and chips. This also appeared to be a favorite of Frank the dog.
Eventually the rest bimbled in. Hints suggested that the hash route may have been in the shape of a shamrock. Nobody seemed to disagree with the sham part. We will have to wait until the AGM to find out if there really was gold at the end of the trail though.
Despite missing the circle at the end I was informed that sinners were some Welsh chap, Peter Rhys who'd failed to turn up, Dr. P who now has to submit a formal request not to be included, and Lady Garden who has been a great help to the mismanagement initiative to introduce egging.
If anyone has seen a waterproof notebook keep it safe, it'll be worth a packet in a few year's time.
Overall, an excellent hashing area, difficult colour conditions and very nice pub. Bit sad I missed out on the Baileys and the drink that was more Puccini than potcheen.
It really makes you feel alive when you're in the middle of beautiful wooded countryside in challenging conditions at night.
More so when you're closer to the end everyone else.
I feel more of the group need to commit to shorts. As a group (short wearers) we ain't had no Satisfaction for a week or two. Loose Articles seems to be wearing tights.
...and why were Honey and OTAHO wearing matching HG hats?
I can only guess they're quick silvers...
Dingers ... See MoreSee Less
Having just run around the wonderful pewley down and up and around the chantries in my green t-shirt - I now feel an Irish jig coming on! Thank you Hare Kieran Faul you did lead us on a merry dance on your St Pat’s day Hash! ... See MoreSee Less
Happy St Patrick's Day! Shaun and the flock are getting in the spirit with some Irish dancing...
Can we get details of Monday’s hash on the web-site.
...and confirm it’s not from Millmead. ... See MoreSee Less
BEWARE OF THE FLOOD AT FARLEY GREEN...don’t go round corner at +35mph...doesn’t go well ... See MoreSee Less
SCHEDULED HARE LIST. WANNA CHANGE YOUR DATE in the list? WANNA ADD YOUR NAME? Please let ME know, via Kes Otaho. On On OTAHO
1726 Mar 19th 2018 Poola Radcliffe, St Pat's Day-ish, Bright Hill CP, GU1 3RU
1727 Mar 26th 2018 Wurzel
1728 Apr 2nd 2018 Wally
1729 Apr 9th 2018 In the Bum/Cynthia
1730 Apr 16th 2018 Old Mac Nick
1731 Apr 23rd 2018 Simple AGM, Albany, GU
1732 Apr 30th 2018 Groper
1733 May 7th (Bank Hol ****11:00 am*****) Kelinchi
1734 May14th 2018 Ding-a-Ling
1735 May 21st 2018 Loose Article
1736 May 28th 2018 (Bank Hol ****11:00 am****) No Nookie
1737 June 4th 2018 Dangerous King's Head, Holmbury St Mary
1738 June 11th 2018 Bodyshop
1739 June 18th 2018
1740 June 25th 2018
1741 July 2nd 2018 Daring Alice, Ruby anniversary hash, Albury
1742 July 9th 2018
1743 July 16th 2018 Cynthia/ITB Chilli charity night ... See MoreSee Less
GH3 Annual Hash Walk
September 8, 2018, 9:00am - September 9, 2018, 11:00pm
Cynthia & ITB are once again organising this popular event. It consists of a 12-14 mile wander with a pub stop. In the evening everyone meets up for a meal. If you're interested, please speak to Cy...
I am unable to attend this week’s adventure. Therefore there is a temporary opening for scribe. This is an excellent opportunity for any aspiring writers to get their work out to a larger audience. ... See MoreSee Less
Bricks & Beers - LEGO Club for Grown Ups
April 26, 2018, 8:00pm - April 26, 2018, 10:00pm
Brilliant Bricks and Firebird Brewery in association with The Electric Theatre present BRICKS & BEERS Come along for a dedicated grown ups only LEGO building evening Freestyle building / Challenges ...
I currently know of 6 of us going to Liege to do the Beer Lovers Marathon this year. Are there any others joining us? ... See MoreSee Less
This is to confirm the Surrey First Friday of the Month Hash this Friday has been postponed till next week Friday 9th March. Blame the Beast from the East. On On till next week ... See MoreSee Less
I need to set a run in June or July to mark my 40 years of hashing - yes hashing since 1978. Are any Mondays free - I am clear on 2 or 16 July. Any good? The venue will of course be Albury. ... See MoreSee Less
Dr P, you left your med notes in the pub last week. Bods found them! ... See MoreSee Less
Message from GH3 contact form....
Anyone @ GH3 remember me?
Ran with you 1987.
Was then in Aldershot, posted to Bath and left Army in 1989.
Anyone remember? ... See MoreSee Less
Hare: Dr. Pussy
On Inn: The Wotton Hatch
This week in a dream I was visited by my spirit guide. Granted this was after a bottle of wine, a large port and some stilton that was 'only a little' out of date. He wasn't a native American adorned with a feather which was a bit of a let down - he was an accountant from Leeds. He looked a little bit like Dangerous if he shaved and had lost more hair up top, the spirit guide that is, not Dange.
It happened after I'd fallen asleep watching a film about a disadvantaged American man brought up by a strong mother figure.
He, the spirit guy, not the American, appeared and said, "Hashes are like boxes of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
It wasn't really the best advice. Most boxes of chocolates I've bought contain a little slip of paper detailing clearly what each one is.
In this age of information, many might say in this age of too much information, the hare had the opportunity to give hints on social media about the progress she was making whilst laying the trail. Not unsurprisingly, given the hare, none of these little snippets of information were about sunshine, rainbows and unicorns (which had she bumped into, no doubt would have attacked). Included amongst the tales of doom was the fact that she'd lost a tenner which presumably boosted the number who turned up this week no end.
The circle was assembled. Satisfaction Guaranteed had forfeited her warranty with touch of flu. The hare offered everyone some help for the trail this included:
* If you don't take the shortcut it will be longer.
* Bits are flat some are not.
Whilst such nuggets of information might have been of critical importance to anyone wishing to complete the hash, many became distracted around this point. Rhum and Little Pecker reminisced about some delightful cake they'd eaten in a foreign country that sounded like just the sort of stuff Tim Peake must have been eating on his time on the International Space Station.
The first check was missing, but this was soon rectified by the hare.
Which lead us to a cemetry and OTAHO(?) suggested it was a dead-end. I added that someone had made a grave mistake which I thought might have urned a laugh, but the joke died.
In the wake of the church was a valley. At this point I was at the back and less than delighted to see the FRB's torches bloody miles away across the other side. Once reaching the other side we joined the route the Bacchus (half-)marathon takes. Specifically, the rotten uphill bit. Poola seemed the think it was called White Downs which just goes to show it's not a great idea to call something a name which only makes sense if you're heading in a specific direction during the day.
At this point we were treated with gin and jelly-babies. It was possibly more of a bribe than a treat as the true length of the run was becoming clear.
By the end my watch had clocked up four and a half miles, I'd taken the shortcut and forgot to start it when we set off.
Therefore, I conclude that my spirit guide is most certainly wrong when it comes to boxes of chocolates and hashes.
Hashes are like the Spanish Inquisition...
...if you're a Python fan you can just keep your mouth shut for a minute.
Hashes are like the Spanish Inquisition - long, painful and inflicted on the innocent for no reason.
Overall, I feel a true return to form for Guildford. Many recent efforts have perhaps been a little stilted by their application of sanity and ordered good-sense. Maybe as a result of reading the advice provided by the KnowledgeBase page on the group's web-site.
Loose Articles two daughters, the Scrum sisters had been on the radio apparently this week apparently trying to encourage more women to get involved in science. Let us hope they don't ever interview DP.
By that of course I mean that we should encourage the fairer sex to be out in the hills getting rosy-cheeks and good, clean air. Us men should join them in those fine English hills and rolling downs. Far better than watching the telly!
Sinners were Groper for being a stumbling dosser, Drift for not taking the short-cut, Wipe Clean for running around the car-park to make her milage nice and round (this seems to be a bad-habit that's catching on 'cos I'm sure Inspector Gadget was pinged for the same thing not many weeks ago), the scribe for being caught without trousers at the end of a race.
Honey and Poola were last back with reports of being nearly run over by Wurzle and Calamity trampling them as they stampeded down a hill.
The winner for the evening was Princess Von-Stein who didn't want to break a nail on the trail and had stayed in the warm pub nursing a pint.
Dingers ... See MoreSee Less
A bit last minute, but anyone fancy seeing Jonathan Pie at GLive this Friday evening (glive.co.uk/Online/tickets-jonathan-pie-guildford-2018)? There are still a few seats left up in the gods, but as long as you can hear him this should be a blast. If you not familiar with his satire, check out his youtube channel - www.youtube.com/channel/UCO79NsDE5FpMowUH1YcBFcA . Be warned, he is a bit sweary. ... See MoreSee Less
Location: The Moat Car-Park, Elstead
On-Inn: The Woolpack
I would imagine that I'm not the only hasher this week who has been following the weather closely. Presumably opinions on it starting to snow were split along similar lines to Brexit or the Six Nations results depending whether you relied on the trains or roads for the day-to-day.
Suggestions had even been made to the polar hare that colouring might be required.
"Hair colouring! Not on your nelly!" responded Specky.
Let me put it this way - it was so cold even Satisfaction Guaranteed was wearing leggings.
Anyway, the hare didn't fancy another outing after laying the trail so we nominated the sole FRB to be the Checkin' 'non-chlorinated' Chicken.
Five hundred yards into the run Little Nixon was complaining that he hadn't worn the gaiters he'd had custom made for his desert marathon to keep the sand out. Incredibly this was because Specky had laid not only the snowiest hash of the year, he'd also managed to lay the sandiest.
Probably plenty of the hashers at this point were feeling a little silly for not joining the scribe in wearing beach attire.
Calling wasn't required on the evening as it was possible to follow the coconut spoor being left by Cynthia as she went. It was just as well as OTAHO appeared to manage something only just above a whisper when he solved the cluster-check in the middle of the run. Also, the scent fitted in wonderfully to the evenings summer holiday theme.
It was highly appropriate that the evening was tail-ended by a decked promonade finish. Rumours abound that Specky and Under D were trying to charge entrance this part of the trail, and I for one can't explain their sudden appearance if this wasn't true.
At the end a hesitant Simple tried to arrest any participants caught short at the end. Inspector Gadget and Dr P. thought they had it covered but still got fingered by the filth. Dog Breath had been flashing, Sat G. had tumbled, then rumbled herself and Lady Gee had a P.
If you are still reading this around the end of Feb, then expect more cold weather to follow - my right knee is playing up a fair bit which always suggests a cold spell. Also, expect some windy spells as I've rather taken to a haggis omelette in the mornings.
A most excellent hash, Sir Whinceton was lost for complaints.
Sadly, Poola pulled a mussel in the pub at the end.
Dingers ... See MoreSee Less
Hare: Little Pecker
Location: Alfold Bars
On Inn: Sir Roger Titchbourne
As I drove past Shackleton, Scott and Admunsen on the way to this weeks hash I wondered about whether GH3 were helping preserve the Victorian spirit of adventure...
Er, last time I appeared in this car-park Specky was asking if anyone had a spare torch. Betwixt that night and this, I'd contrived a cunning plan to buy the Mother of All Spare Torches - 6,000 lumens no less (according to the advert) - should anyone ask again.
Just keep that in mind for later.
Now we'll get back to arriving at the car-park and not seeing the hare. To be honest, the hare's punctuality wasn't of particular note compared to In Yer Face's last week, but when he did turn up he had rather muddy shoes which was of particular note (at least I made a note of it).
Now I remember, he wasn't just wearing shoes, he had gaiters on. Gaiters are one of the things you buy as you descend into rambling at some point after your 60th (rambling with the legs in this case, rather than the mouth which many seem to do about the same sort of time in life).
Erectile Disfunction poked his head up in the circle giving rise to a number of potential double-entendres.
We set off and my torch failed.
This was a little annoying as I'd recently purchased a 6,000 lumen torch in the event of someone forgetting theirs.
The next major happening was frogs. This was a rare event because it lead to GH3 actually calling for once. What the frog felt about it wasn't recorded.
By this time, the pack had been unpacked and was spread thin. Wurzel's ghost (who looks just like him but dresses better (it could have been Wurzel actually - maybe he becomes more ethereal as he heads away from Surrey)) called for the FRB's to hold the check.
The FRB's failed to hold the check, spurred on by the hare who also seemed to be an FRB. This was possibly part of the team-building and communications exercise that the hare had outlined at the start of the run. The landlord of the On-Inn was also at the start of the run asking about food so he has no place here in the middle of the story.
Have I mentioned the mud? There were Eskimos on the trail who had stopped worrying about whether the word was derogitory to Inuits and Yikips who had travelled down from the Antarctic to wonder about how we managed to have so many words for wet soil.
As we near the end of the write-up I will shovel in a brief note about Loose Article's attempts to become a Master of beer. I hadn't managed to jot much down, so there is even less than usual about the participants, but there were plenty, they were just hard to identify because of the mud and lack of light.
Sinners were Honey for getting sucked off, Inspector Gadget for running a bit longer at the end to round of his mileage, the scribe for complaining about injustice, E.D. for screaming like a little girl, Lady Garden for utter failure to kick through checks.
The On-Inn proved to be just as good this time around.
Lady Rees-Mog impressed the Douglas Adams fans by talking about a Pan American Barlgeraster.
Oh, I guess D.P. must have been a sinner too because I have something about "Ah, Ah, it's in my eye!"
...bloody attention seekers. In my day mud was good for you.
Dingers ... See MoreSee Less