Chopstix Foghorn (of course!) Hashgate Spot Iceman Gutbucket Nutcracker Potty Gusset Cerberus Mick Neil Baldrick Bomber Lemming Mother Theresa Danish Tom Lesley Ladybird Greenfly Flash OldFart Einstein Speedbumps Janine C5 Mr & Mrs Blobby Lynda Centaur Dwight Cap’n Haystax Harimou Chuck Florence Zebedee TT2 Arkle Lonely Cheating Cloggs Mrs. Foghorn The Tremblers

So there I was, thinking I’d start a ‘Where Are They Now’ section when out of nowhere pop Einstein, Speedbumps, Ladybird, Mother Theresa and Lemming. And very nice it was to see (most of) them. Though why they chose this God-awful place to reappear I do not know. The car park was a tarmac desert in one corner of which sat a small and vociferous crowd of drunks/druggies (I do wish my Dad wouldn’t follow me about!). The odd car in the car park had no wheels. Mind you, this atmosphere led us in nicely to certain other parts of the trail that were even rougher.

Poor Greenfly turned up looking very stiff. Not an excess of Viagra but a pulled back and a knackered knee. A speedy recovery my boy. New ladies Janine and Lesley joined us. Lesley was 1^st woman in the Woodley 10k recently and Zebedee was very much taken with her finely sculpted calf muscles. Janine elected to hide most of her calf muscles but exuded a general air of svelte slinkiness. Very pleasant. Hope to see you both again soon.

We On Outed the usual way towards, then into, Prospect Park. After all, Foggy and Chops wanted us to enjoy the sylvan surroundings… and the first rush up that bloody great hill. How we got to the top without choking I do not know for as Mick, Cerberus, Bomber and I gasped along Mick got Bomber’s name wrong and called him Bummer. Whether Mick was using the term as a description of Bomber’s running or of his spare time activities I do not know. We flashed through the undergrowth, over the hill and straight down into a massive music carnival and general beanfeast, eliciting (not surprisingly) some very strange looks from the assembled revellers. I wisely stayed behind Mr. Blobby, using him as a ‘human shield’ in case of any fracas and I would have been off like a shot (to summon the constabulary) should the need have arisen.

So into the tarmac jungle with C5 and I leading until I took the path to a bar-4 that had been laid by a retarded, numerically challenged chimp – or Foghorn as he is known. Still, it reversed the pack and I found my self catching up with Nutcracker and Gusset, bouncing along in their own inimitable way. There was much upping and downing towards the genteel avenue that is Oxford Road and I chanced upon Mother Theresa who was wearing an extra long T-shirt. I asked of her a) was she wearing anything under the T-shirt, and b) how come she could get here for the Hash when she lives so far away. The answers were a) an enigmatic smile b) she and Lemming were on their way back from Basildon! The latter threw me a bit until we worked out that it was Basingstoke, not Basildon. I can only put it down to being with Lemming all this time – it’s poaching the poor girl’s brain!

And so on to Oxford Road where I turned the corner very quickly and yelled "On, On" right into a policeman’s ear just as he and a colleague were arresting a suspect. Crikey! I didn’t stop to apologise but hared off after Spot and shot into Reading West station, over the bridge, out the other side and up the hill. Zeb, Mick and Chuck were leading us on and we eventually popped out at the back of the Hexagon theatre where I was approached by a possibly Lebanese chap who seemed to be suffering from scrofula, scurvy and smallpox in equal portions. The thin frame approached, dark, sunken eyes pierced out from under the greasy baseball cap. "Wossisyoudoin?" he grinned. I wished he hadn’t. It looked like the Mary Rose rising from the depths. "Erm. Hashing. There’s a sort of a trail and we…". I smiled a watery smile. He returned it with added saliva. "Must dash." I said…and did.

Cloggs and Arkel and ‘sister’ Florence trotted under and over the IDR with me, catching up with Baldrick and Potty as we delighted in the curve and geometry of the lovely road system, sadly soon to be left behind. Things began to speed up from here and we beasted past my osteopath’s house in Coley Avenue, across Berkeley Avenue and into suburban Southcote. Or so we thought. The next thing I remember was following C5’s flying plimsolls as we rattled down an overhanging off-road trail strewn occasionally with rubbish. Here an old trolley; there some bricks; yonder a handy plank. Until we hit the road again and hurtled off down the ‘L’ong trail from where it split from the ‘S’hort. The hardy Zebedee led the way with others such as Lesley, Mick, Cerberus, OldFart, Neil, Bomber etc following the madcap dash downhill into greenery and dried mud. Great shame really since Zeb found the double bar at the metal fence that Foghorn had mentioned in passing at the Gather Round. Apparently, some fool had built a large and long metal fence some five or so years ago and had forgotten to warn Foghorn. No feelings for others, some people. So back we all came to be pointed in the right direction by the aforementioned grinning Foghorn – the bas***d.

Luckily, this was more track and trail and I stuck with Lesley and Iceman until we caught up with the short trailers where we spotted Lonely who was so embarrassed at having walked most of the way he essayed a short jog to appease his protractors. After this I unluckily got stuck with the blasted Reading RoadRunners bunch (Mick, Neil, Cerberus, Lesley) who are a tad fit and it turned into a lung-bursting, eyeballs out job through the peaceful township of Southcote – waving and smiling at the happy locals – until we hit Honey End Lane and staggered back into the car park. Still, at least I got to join in their warm-down stretching routine. Purely in the interests of companionship, you understand.

After desperately scratching around for incidents RA C5 (who now has his own personalised numberplate - C5 DDD. The pretentious git!) presented the following :-

29/07/01 - Summer Tough Guy. For details and an entry form, see me - Hashgate.