Greenfly Shep Spot Lemming Mother Theresa Hashgate Motormouth Sam IzzieTheDrunk Chris Katherine Foghorn Buffalo BoPeep BGB The Tremblers C5 StickyDicky GulabJaMoon Bomber Bébé John from New York Cheryl (aka Handful) Dribbler Dumper Septic Daisy and Gnarler the dog Cap’n Haystax Lonely and Beaver the dog TinOpener Miranda and Emma the dog Spex Ms. Whiplash Eth Baldrick Jenks Steamer GBH Cheating….and Salome graced us with her presence later at the pub

Hellfire!!! And just as I was about to pen this witty epic! Allow me to explain. We are currently caring for an ancient moggy named Lucy. A black and white fleabag with arthritic joints, an unhealing scab on it’s back, one and a half ears and breath that could fell a rhinocerous at twenty paces. Unbeknown to me the old girl had staggered in silently on it’s 20-year old paws and made it’s way grimly and myopically over to the feline thunderbox almost directly behind me. Assuming a very unladylike posture it had gritted the teeth, stiffened the sinews and summoned up the blood. Just as it’s eyeballs seemed likely to explode the other end did, leaving me not only partially deaf but enveloped in a swiftly rising cloud of poison gas. I eyed the cat. It eyed me back. I blinked. It left the cat flap like a furry guided missile. So, after an interlude with the gas mask, lead gauntlets and barbeque tongs I have returned. Hopefully, the cat will not….

On this lovely Hash morning I had brought my daughter Sam and friend Izzie and her mum Katharine had turned up with son Chris. Chris could make a very good Hasher – he appeared to be asleep most of the way round the trail. Greenfly appeared of similar mien when we gathered round. I had come upon him earlier, munching a sandwich in a semi-somnolent torpor, while sitting in his car. He reckoned that he and Shep had started laying the trail at 6 o’clock. Obviously, it was catching up with him. He rambled and meandered during the Hare’s talk, so I had to kick a fair dollop of water from a puddle at him to wake him up before everyone else fell asleep. He snorted into semi-consciouness, flung up an arm and called "On Out that way". So we did.

I thought I would give the old knee a bit of a trot this morning so I followed everyone else on the long, loop down and back past the Maharajah’s well. Cheryl came flying up from behind and bounced lightly past, little realising what was to come (see Down Downs). I needn’t have worried about being left behind as I soon caught up with Sam and Izzie and then the rest of the pack as we turned off tarmac and into fields of surprised horses, followed shortly by very squidgy woodland. It was here that BGB did his usual and suddenly appeared as if by magic. One minute nothing; the next, a headband, a handerkerchief and a "Howdy doo"! Mind you, Squirrel did the exactly the same a moment later. I got a crafty rest by chatting with walker Katherine while somnabulist son Chris floated along by her side. Baldrick sprinted past with an incredible burst of speed that lasted all of ten yards and we all fetched up in a very boggy area where very little checking was taking place. We eventually got it right and had to go through a barbed wire fence where my daughter’s friend Izzie (face of an angel but a right hooligan really) showed her xenophobic streak by kicking the crap out of pauvre Bébé as she bent under the wire and running off without so much as a "Pardon".

Bomber and I strolled off down the woodland path. All went well until he lightened the moment further by stepping on a slippery stump and landing flat on his arse. Surrounding Hashers duly laughed like drains and offered no assistance. Standard response.

A little further and Greenfly showed his fiercely competitive nature by blasting to the front…..of the walkers! Sad, really. Even I could have beaten that lot when I had only one leg. At the next check the lively Squirrel skittered about the forest as if desperately searching for his nuts and C5 advised him not to have a heart attack. Talk about pot and kettle!

We descended through the wet terrain and into a small valley, at the bottom of which stood two huge puddles full of shiggy and a pair of water nymphs: Lemming and Daisy. Ah. Luckily I got through early with Motormouth using me as a shield. Surprisingly, the pond life offered no immediate response, so I chucked a gobbet of mud at them to see what might happen. Poor C5! He was next down and they pounced. Daisy, the taller, grabbed his upper parts and Lemming reached up to grab his knees. Motormouth and I stood back to appreciate the titanic struggle. He’s a strong lad, C5, and managed to fight ‘em off, despite getting well muddied and drenched in the process. It ended with Lemming staggering backwards and C5 kneeling directly behind Daisy, who was on all fours in the puddle. I covered Motormouth’s eyes and steered the lad safely away. Meanwhile, Lonely splattered Lemming superbly and BoPeep was well muddied.

RA C5 presented the following :-

BH³ is well and truly on the Hashing map. The recent Hash Hack journal featured our Bonfire night Gobsheet. Hurrah for us!