Spot Bopeep Mr. Mainwaring Baldrick Richard Foghorn Spex Lynda Amanda TT2 Florence Zebedee Spunky Dwight Centaur Stewpot Cribbler Butterfly SlipperyDick Hashgate Greenfly Iceman HeyBabe Flash Honeymonster Magic 2Bob HoneyAnt Potty Salome Eth Ms. Whiplash Le Voisin Mr and Mrs Blobby Utopia Binbag Squelchy Itsyour C5 Sue5 Cheating Dumper Septic OldFart Cap’n Haystax Cap’n Y-Fronts Steamer GBH TinOpener

"One blob and you’re on." Quoth Mr. Mainwaring from his crib sheet at the Gather Round, populated by damp Hashers carrying torches and sporting a varied selection of head furniture to keep off the rain. It seems that Spot and BoPeep were laying a live trail for our pleasure. I’m sure the reason had nothing to do with the fact that it had rained all afternoon and they didn’t fancy going round twice. Mr. Mainwaring raised one arm and called the On Out, spinning round like a Hash weathercock to face Sou’ Sou’ West. We duly exploded out of the car park, in an effort to get warm. No flour there. Foghorn, HoneyAnt and OldFart stopped, perplexed, until we heard the inevitable "On Back". It seemed that Mr.M had ‘accidentally’ pointed diametrically opposite to Nor’ Nor’ East, where the trail started behind a fence gate that had not actually been open when we started. It was a shame the old chap couldn’t get his bearings. But if he does it again I’ll box more than his compass!

There was much damp shouting round the houses and even damper gurgling around the golf course, where we surprised a lone pellet whacker tramping grimly across the links. Not exactly Tiger Woods. But then none of us are exactly O’Sullivan or Kipketer. On this Hash Dwight came nearest to the comparison but a) he’s the wrong colour, and b) I think he’s the wrong sex. There was a fair bit of cheating (with and without a capital ‘C’) as people, notably OldFart, Cheating and Iceman cut off huge chunks of the trail but this was nothing compared to those who later decided the far side of the motorway was not for them and sneaked back smugly to the pub via a short, short cut. Well, they were the wise ones. Those of us who took the long trail were greeted with a large semi-ploughed field which Dwight, Greenfly, Stewpot, Centaur, Spunky, Iceman, OldFart, others and I staggered across laughing as our huge, mud-caked feet literally clod-hopped over the cloying sods (as it were). Luckily this eventually gave way to a smidgeon of bosky wood where Dwight and Stewpot tried to prevent us from seeing the flour by flashing torches with all the candlepower of a knackered glowworm on the ground. Thankyou fellows, for your help and assistance.

A small group of us were left to chase the unseen Spot. Apparently he heard us as we pelted down the armpit blackness of Pincents Lane but by that time he was almost in Theale high Street and, having hailed a cab, he was back at the pub well before us. Who should we meet at the foot of the motorway bridge? None other than Cheating who had absolutely no excuse for being there. We jeered him roundly and sped on through the rain to just catch up with BoPeep before the pub. Nice one, Hares. It was quite hard work (for you too, no doubt!) but we enjoyed it.

The general mood of the AGM was of a happy Hash patting itself on the back and enjoying the experience. And so we should. BH³ is a well-organized bunch of friendly, running anarchists. We set up some excellent events during the year and are pleased to welcome anyone who wants to join us. Many thanks to all those who took the time and effort to lay trails and particular thanks at the AGM to Nutcracker and Binbag for their excellent repast.