Lonely Wally Hashgate Motormouth StickyDicky GulabJaMoon Baldrick 2Bob Puddleduck HoneyAnt Stewpot Paul(a newcomer) Iceman Cap’n Haystax OldFart Paella Ms whiplash Salome GBH Circle Cheatinglingus Pizzapiss Clepto Lemming and Mother Theresa !! Whinge Spot Skydiver The Tremblers Hamlet Dribbler Butterfly and Paddy the dog Mr Blobby Dumper Septic C5 Greenfly Spunky OrganGrinder PosingPouch FannySniffer Flash Mr and Mrs Foghorn (nice to see you, madam) Centaur Khazi Speedbumps Phil Karen

Motormouth and I delighted in seeing the majestic drifting of the hot air ballons in the summer sky; smiled at the pub’s yapping Jack Russels as they spotted Beaver; chatted with virgin Paul; met again the too long away Lemming and Mother Theresa. Even the witterings of Wally failed to dampen our spirits. GBH roared up in his mobile home, the doors of which creaked open, disgorging not only himself but Cheating, Pizzapiss and Clepto. He then set up a small free bar in order to rid himself of some unneeded hooch. C5 called the Gather Round, welcomed the newcomer, Paul and requested PizzaPiss, Lemming and Clepto to enter the circle to receive an early libation of GBH’s bathtub special. Sadly, I made the mistake of mentioning to Greenfly (in a sotto voce manner) that the glasses of stuff they were to drink looked absolutely disgusting. Unfortunately, GBH was nearby and his policeman’s ear homed in on my comment. The next second his policeman’s hand-like-a-ham propelled me forward and a beaker of the foul smelling, vaguely pink concoction (a bit like paraffin, with a similar smell) was smilingly handed over. Now I would perhaps have declined GBH’s kind invitation but for the fact that he is built like (and with all the granite inflexibility of) a Welsh tabernacle and I (as similarly described by Paella, later) am merely lissom athleticism and devilish good looks. So down went the 32% lychee schnapps + pure spirit + paraffin + monkeywee and none of us could speak for a full 30 seconds. The stuff had napalmed strips off the throat, roared into the stomach at 60 mph and booted us behind the eyeballs. Crikey! And then we were On Out.

Well, we powered down the road with all the certainty of St. Paul on the road to Emmaus, but were soon converted to returning whence we came since the trail sneaked off into a footpath. Down which I floated with Motormouth, coming upon Ms Whiplash and Salome with a map(!); they suggesting it was merely light reading material to while away the time. Despite the paucity of flour Mr Blobby had the bit between his teeth at this time and streamed purposefully over checks, through woods and across fields like an earth sprite dosed up to the eyeballs on EPO. I should talk! The booze had infiltrated and I took my first tumble in the wood, tripped by a mandrake – much to Spot’s amusement and concern. The FRBs then dallied in a finely laid loop which then met up with the more relaxed Hashers coming over the false i.e. Pizzapiss, Lemming, Trembler, Septic and damn nearly everyone else! Yet another cunning back check after some ankle-breaking terrain had Mr Blobby checking someone’s garden and all the FRBs, including Motormouth, Puddleduck and HoneyAnt, going the wrong way. Amazingly, this meant that the trail leaders were GBH and Pizzapiss!! Well, Sticky Dicky and I couldn’t have that and we ghosted past, tipping our hats like gents and raising two fingers like true plebs. The trail ran around the edge of a field the size of Scotland, and a river. "It’s only a matter of time", we thought. We were right, of course. But before that I managed my second bone-jolting dive of the day – at least it gave the following StickyDicky something to laugh about. Mind you, I sort of had the last laugh on him; we swapped the lead several times while stonking round that blasted great field and he reckoned that every time I passed him he received a gale force blast of lychee spirit halitosis! Sorry ‘bout that, Sticky.

Soon, we reached the inevitable ford with the regroup on the other side, luckily before Lemming. Virgin Paul cited ‘lack of spare trainers’ for not going through the ford. He’ll make a fine Hasher. Spot, Cheating, Whinge, Trembler, Dribbler, Clepto, GBH, Paella all wimped out. C5 stormed through – an example to us all….of what rampant senility can do. Septic waded through bravely on her own and Butterfly (with seadog Paddy), Cap’n Haystax, Dumper, 2Bob and Mother Theresa all strode through. Nice one, chaps. A while after, as we stonked gamefully through the woods to Greenham Common we came upon a grinning and very fresh Zebedee and Florence. Having arrived late (unusually enough) the brass-necked pair declined to catch up via the trail but cheated and met us three quarters of the way round!

I must break here and mention Mrs. Foghorn who whinged on and on about never being mentioned in the Gobsheet. Now I usually mention people because I see them doing or saying something during the Hash. I’ve never seen Mrs Foghorn – presumably she runs so fast we can’t catch up with her! I can only write that she must have a) great fortitude since she has put up with Mr Foghorn all those long, long years, and b) eardrums of steel.

But to return. We split for the long and the short and I was saddened to see Lemming walking on the short – a once great athlete etc. etc. Actually, I take that back. He’s never been a great athlete. Since it was darkening swiftly 2Bob, Motormouth, Puddleduck, HoneyAnt and I were pleased to see the pub lights and met Magic, Mrs. Trembler and (well blow me down! I did see her!) Mrs Foghorn turning into the car park. Where we also met Khazi, Speedbumps, Phil and Karen who had arrived even later than Zeb and Florence!

RA C5 presented the following :-