Run No. 654 7th March 2004
The Wagon & Horses, Steeple Morden
Ankle Biters: -
Knitting Circle: -
Having recently changed hands, returning to The Wagon & Horses with wonderful new owners Sharon & Graham seemed to be a brilliant idea owing to the lovely countryside and favourable beer. Consequently the keen-as-mustard No Knickers duly volunteered her services (!) also on behalf of a suspicious Big Blouse, who knows when to do as he is told. The hare had as usual checked out and laid a brilliant run, with no help whatsoever from the aforementioned Mr Blouse, who did bugger all to aid the proceedings.
At 10.55am the circle was called by a curiously optimistic Ringer and within no more than 5 minutes - it was 11.00am.
Once again it was a distinct pleasure to see the veteran hashers Super Mini and Wonder Woman return for yet more shenanigans with the H5. After a brief 4 years of faffing about coupled with belligerent and rude comments by the assembled hash, the throng (in the shape of a rhombus by this stage) were disturbed to see the ever late G-String & Skidmark closely followed by Knobber arrive fashionably late and disrupt the lack of proceedings by driving THROUGH the circle !
Order was eventually sort of restored and then No Knickers calls check it out and the usual array of FRBs led by an adrenalin-crazed Pecker belt off in all directions to be cunningly thwarted at every turn. Captain Fantaaastic, Knobber and Bedpan find the right trail and smugly lead the way over a stile and past a strangely petrified horse (????) - Big Blouse, it's plastic dear. Quoth the helpful Boff, and lo & behold indeed it was plastic.
The cold, wet and miserable hash are rewarded by a series of falsies over a handily exposed field, just as the rain takes on a distinctly Scottish slant and cuts everyone in half from the right hand side only (aka Aberdeen north-east style). Ever athletic and clearly intent on warming up ahead of everyone, a supercharged Mabel heads off towards Essex, so fast in fact that Sasquatch bellowing 'False Trail' at the top of his lungs almost fails to stop Mabel from disappearing from sight.
The hash arrives at a held check and pause to let the lovely Ringkisser and the not-quite-so athletic Knitting circle arrive, to be joined by newie Keith who has arrived Guerrilla style by bursting forth from the undergrowth. Check it out is duly called and the hash behave like sheep and follow Penetrator and a sweaty Donut rather than waste energy on pointless falsies, which turns out to be a cunning move as luck would have it, as the respected west country FRB is totally correct.
Then were down a short stretch past a couple out walking their dog, who appear alarmed at the oncoming mass, and throw themselves into a hedge to avoid being trampled to death in the approaching woofing, farting & grunting sweaty mess of arms legs & tongues that is the hash. A held check allows the knitting circle to arrive and Florence & Will are seen holding hands which is a pleasant change from the endless innuendos and lewd behaviour that normally happens on our weekly outings.
The hash then begins the slow accent towards East Dereham, I mean er. 'Abbington Piggots' lead by the superfit and evidently bored Mabel who is running rings around everyone in site including a ludicrous looking Not my Bitch who appears to have a giant Tampax nailed to one ear, which causes considerable amusement to the rest of the hash.
Sadly a clearly insane Giblets tries to outrun a cooler-than-buggery Pooper who is miles ahead, Screamer rolls her eyes and reminds Giblets that as Pooper is half the age and half the weight, the odds are severely stacked against him (oh dear).
The hash runs the next immense 9 mile loop across open country only to hear shotgun fire and wonder who we've upset this week, more anthrax dust, er 'flour' is spotted, the On-On is called and we're into a down hill straight and onto a CHAMPAGNE STOP organised and executed by the lovely RA and ever sexy No Knickers as a thank you for general wonderfulness about the kind comments and friendship shown for the forthcoming nuptials.
A rather pale but very interesting Cunning Linguist arrives to receive the lions share of the Champers, and having quaffed and refreshed themselves, the hash head towards the final leg of their epic voyage across the rolling misty hills. Er, ok, damp boggy flat bits of the South Cambridgeshire Country side. A held check allows the now shagged out hash to recuperate a smidgeon in time to see a disturbing heat haze/body odour being emitted from Private Parts. Shaggy, Tightwad, Sludge and Mabel disappear at insane speed and the only thing preventing Mabel leaving the country is a distinct lack of passport.
At the check, No Knickers gives the hash an option of a long or an SCB route, and as a man the hash take the SCB route all bar Pecker (who appears to be carrying out a one man hash triathlon) who hacks off on the long route via Cardiff while the rest of the hash amble past some real horses and a cunningly electrified fence designed to prevent slumbering hashers from resting on it, and were into the home straight. A distinctly knackered White Rabbit has finally managed to park her car and catch up with the rest of hash in time for the sprint as the On Inn is gratefully spotted. Captain Fantaaastic is co RA (CORA ?) for the day and eventually down downs are awarded to the following:
And thus ended another slightly odd day.