Cerberus Kay Mick (obviously!) Hashgate Motormouth Tweenie Itsyor C5 DumperFoghorn Chopstix Ms. Whiplash Eth 2Bob Puddleduck Nutcracker Potty Motox Spot Danish Tom Natasha Baldrick BGB Gutbucket Harimou Andy Mrs and Mr Blobby Utopia Lynda(with a ‘Y’) Greenfly OldFart Paella Ann Jane Iceman Sven Eugene Karen Toni Wally Florence Lonely and Beaver the dog Bomber Tom

Sadly, I don’t have a picture of Cerberus the three-headed dog who guards the gates of hell so this appealing little chap will just have to do. The only other dog on the Hash tonight was Beaver who managed to find the biggest, dirtiest puddle you ever did see in the middle of the forest and jumped in it with delighted canine relish – much to the chagrin of Lonely.

Tonight’s venue appeared unpromising. The virgin Hares had chosen Safeways car park and we had visions of dashing through the delicatessen or trotting past the tills. But we were to be pleasantly surprised. After weeks of toiling over the tarmac (more alliteration) the Hares had found us some woods and shiggy. Hurrah!

Ms. Whiplash swept through the gathering, honking in the car park and generally showing off like the Teeny Bopper she really is. Passenger Eth was no doubt suitably embarrassed – blushing maiden that she is. Foghorn was stamping about doing a Greenfly impression and sartorially he had it down to a T, bright green shorts and running vest ensuring he stood out like an Irish lighthouse. However, the body shape could use the odd nip and tuck (that’s an in-joke) to reduce it to Greenfly’s lean, skeletal corpus. We were joined by some real, live athletes. Three Reading Roadrunners known to the Hares had decided to check out Hashing: Eugene, Karen and Toni. I reckon they enjoyed themselves; I hope we see them again.

We On Outed almost immediately on to some green and fairly pleasant land and lost the trail immediately. This rather set the scene for the rest of the Hash with Hashers teeming everywhere. Stewpot assisted the chaos by calling ‘On On’ up a false. We were thoroughly castigated by Cerberus and Kay for being a bunch of wall-eyed no-goods with the collective brainpower of a mentally challenged amoeba. You get this, of course, with virgin Hares. They lay the perfect trail oh so carefully and then we all come along and spoil it by ignoring checks, falses, bars and flour generally. I remember well a stunningly laid piggyback check on the Teddy Bear Run that everyone trampled straight through. And last year’s HairyMary Three-Legged Hash where no-one wanted their dainty calf strapped (even for a short while) to another more hairy version. So don’t worry Hares; it happens to everyone!

Lonely’s hound Beaver had decided on an early poop and he heaved and strained, neck muscles rigid, sweat pouring from his furrowed brow as we trotted past. Suddenly, he absolutely shot (no,shot) past us – a doggy Maurice Green going hell for leather. Whether this was as a result of the weight off his (er) mind, jet propulsion or sheer embarrassment I know not.

We meandered in and out of grassy bits and highly suburban bits, the trail messing us up nicely. There seemed to be people running about in small groups from every direction and this became supremely evident as we entered the forested area of Fox Hill. The Roadrunners, Baldrick and I approached a check atop a muddy knoll while allowing Foghorn and Lonely to check elsewhere when suddenly Spot, Florence, OldFart and a goodly contingent came bashing up to meet us from entirely the other direction! This was trail laying par exellence and my congrats to the Hares for pulling off the feat. Mind you certain Hashers were assisting the confusion. A little later Iceman, Motormouth and I were following Baldrick up a narrow track when he called ‘On Back’ citing lack of flour despite at least two blobs leading up there. Of course, it did go that way and we duly lambasted him, enjoying his spirited defence of the indefensible.

Having left Fox Hill and joined the tarmac again we were delighted/appalled to see Reading Roadrunner Toni attempting to clean her shoes on the grass verge. She has a lot to learn… Somewhere along the way was a bar 6 which only the doughty Greenfly found. Well done, him. Motormouth and I wandered up to the regroup with Bomber and Tom in tow and everyone was lying about totally knackered after the (compared to recently) long run. Our spirits were lifted though when we found out that Hare Kay had managed to get herself lost – it wasn’t just us then.

The trail split into a long and short from here and a good number of us piled off into the deepening gloom and forest shiggy for the long. I had to catch up, having left Motormouth to guide Mick back to the cars, and overheard a jolly interesting conversation between Ann and Jane. Jane was offering to procure interesting looking men for Ann for a weekend at about £49 a go. This may sound a bit cheap but I’d be willing to go down for to £45 plus VAT. Think it over ladies…

The trail was a magic bit of crashing around in amongst the trees and mud as the darkness began to prevail. Foghorn and Eugene managed some mud slinging along the way and we only lost sight of the trail once – just as Cerberus said to me "It’s marked quite well through the woods". A touch more of suburbia in the company of Lonely, Iceman, Gutbucket and Beaver saw us soon back to Safeways.

RA C5 presented the following :-