Flo's Gaff, Potton
Sunday, 27 July 2008
Hares: Flo & Walla Bollox
HASHERS: 18 ANKLE BITERS: 5 APRES: 4
Thongo, different class
WWW, ready to bike next door
Walla fails at candle blowing
Sunday morning, 9.00 am and it's hissing down (yes, hissing). Flo says to me, f*****g hell, took at this f*****g weather, it's f*****g awful, we're gonna have to f*****g cancel the f*****g treasure hunt". Ok. she didn't actually say that but that's what she meant.
Next thing I know we have a drive full of hashers and Nik Nak drives past in a piggin' great white van. I don't know if I was having a psychic moment or what, but something compelled me to go to the rec. car park where she was headed in time hear a godallmighty bang as she collided with the height restrictor on the car park. Personal note to Nik Nak - that van is more than 2.1 m high.
They organised themselves into 5 teams After brief introductions, Thongo's Trippers (AKA Pongo, Pussies Galore, Nik Nak, Penetrator, and Forking Dickchair) were the first to set off, followed at 5-10 minute intervals by the rest. So in rapidly emerging sunshine five teams of hashers on every sort of velocipede that you could think of (and some you probably couldn't) set off, turning left out of the driveway (apart from Five Baah who mysteriously turned right despite instructions). Hashers were seen pedalling furiously down Mill Lane toward Potton. which was a shame as the first clue was actually next door.
Cap'n F's team were last away due to an inexplicable puncture in his front tyre. However, ready, as always to rise to any challenge (well, so far as we are aware anyway), he whipped out his spare tube and stuffed it in as quickly as he could. Their team were so confident that the tap dancing twins (Cap'n F & WWW) entertained us with their splendid impromptu terpsichore [anor bldy anag? ... ed] before leaping onto several thousand pounds worth of exotic and technically sophisticated equipment to cycle next door.
Flo decided to pilot the specially commissioned service vehicle due to CRABS (Can't Ride A Bike Syndrome) due to a very sore bum caused by the recent recce of the route. Barb darlin' [Ward 10? .... ed] decided to co pilot due to CRABS (Completely Refusing A Bicycle Syndrome) and Phil accompanied the ladies to make sure they weren't set upon by unfriendly natives and due to the fact that he was suffering from CRABS (Can't Really be Arsed Biking Syndrome).
The organisers had a few qualms when, over an hour later there was still much scratching of heads and muttering concerning some of the more cryptic clues (note to Flo - I said they'd never get the anagram of editor's - N B tie rods [don't ask, you had to be there]). There were some concerns about Tripe & Onions (AKA Underlay, Rapid Withdrawal, Captain Fantaaastic and WWW), as after an hour they were still within sight of the start.
The Ws (AKA Pecker, Hash Bike, Splinter, Twiglet, Notch, Bill and Jean) were doing well, but Notch wanted a 'Go Faster Daddy' stretch, so we sent them on a nifty short cut to the pub.
Out onto the open road, wind in the hair - well, some people still have hair. Off toward the village with no name on the way to Gamlingay. Your's truly, as bike hare was cycling fit to bust trying to catch Thongo who, in the quest for still more speed, had removed the basket from the front of his bicycle: will this man stop at nothing in his all-consuming desire to win?
The cross country section must have been a challenge to the takes of Cap'n F and WWW. their lightweight racing cycles being about as much use as ice skates at a cricket match on the uneven ground. The pack eventually convened at the Chequers in Wrestlingworth for a deserved couple of pints (or thereabouts).
The Hugh Nose team relax off-road
Deserved couple of pints
.. and the winners were ...
More cross country work followed which was the undoing of the Pecker dan which decided to frolic into deepest, darkest Bedfordshire by continuing round the field as the trail headed inexorably toward Sutton. Two punctures was the penalty for such temerity but this minor pecidillo [far too many anags .... ed] was dealt with in business-like fashion by the redoubtable head of the family who appears to be up to any challenge.
A few clues in Button were followed by a pleasant sylvan amble back to Potton and a reunion with Smiffo and his blushing bride Screamer. Actually we found out later that the reason she was blushing was because she had sat on a damp patch of lawn and it looked as though she had wet herself, or maybe she had just wet herself? It was good to see Munchkin again, looking cool in his new "go faster' haircut.
There was much jollity and ribald humour as the company set about their respective picnics with gusto though I did see Nik Nak eating Branston Pickle out of the jar with a spoon, strange girl. Flo brought out a birthday cake with at least five candles on, all of which promptly went out then magically re-ignited (no. they weren't those special candles, if they were I wouldn't have mentioned it). After I blew them out the cake disappeared never to be seen again. Yes, I thought of the aliens too, perhaps they thought that humans survive on birthday cake (or they just fancied some birthday cake). But no, Flo just forgot to bring it out again. We had a sedentary circle (i.e. everyone was too knackered to stand up) and there were out of date down downs for many of the company:
We needn't have worried about Tripe and Onions though, because although they may not have been the fastest team, they were the most thorough, and just pipped Hugh Nose (AKA Private Parts, Donut, Tarzan, Lady P & Count Roadkill) to first place by a point (well almost, I can't remember the keyboard shortcut for a third!)!!! [1/3?....ed])
The assembled company eventually broke up toward bed time for the tinies, and Flo who was completely jiggered after all her efforts. And, just as we thought the whole thing was quietly winding up, The Count & Lady P, determined not to be outdone in the black rubber stakes (?) definitely took the 'Most Innovative Puncture' award as befits their elevated social status with a nearside rear flat of their upmarket Ford Focus. And, just to show how generous they are to the proles, in an act of selfless "noblesse oblige", allowed me to pump it up for them - aren't our aristocracy wonderful? [shld we say smthng abt the prols being prtty damn decent too or is that patronsng?...ed]
The sunshine lasted just long enough. Thanks to everyone for coming and making it a wonderful birthday weekend for Overflo.
See you all again soon.
Re-arrange these words into a well known saying or phrase: No No to Dripa's Gaff next Nomday and then 888