Centaur Skydiver Einstein SpeedBumps Janine Hashgate Miranda TinOpener Cap’n Haystax GBH CircuitBreaker Lonely and Beaver the dog Tom Danish Iceman Baldrick EasyRider InCider and Kundun the dog Steve Wally Florence Gusset Bev Zebedee TT2 BGB Scrumper Flash Anorak TrainSpotter Dwight and Samuel C5 Mick Bomber Motox Gutbucket Dave Spunky Itsyor Steamer OldFart Neil Cap’n Y-Fronts Binbag Nutcracker Potty Utopia Lynda Septic Dumper Squelchy(!) Cyclogical TwinCam Carl Heather Paella Handful Jane Spot Ms. Whiplash Eth Salome Cheating

"Now I don’t think you wanted to do that!" Said Mick in his best Harry Enfield as I explained to him how I had managed to be driving around Hungerford Common instead of Inkpen Common on my way to the pub. He was quite right, of course. Despite the fact that I had driven all round this area on Saturday night on Dribbler and Butterfly’s excellent Hash Treasure Hunt - we all had a great time thanks very much - I had become lost. But then so had Einstein, Speedbumps and Janine. As I stopped and perused my map they drew up next to me in a cloud of exhaust fumes, melted rubber and confusion. We consulted. We discussed. We realised Einstein didn’t have his glasses so could hardly see the map, let alone features on it. We also figured out I was viewing it the wrong way round. A crow cruised past at altitude, narrowly missing Einstein’s Beamer with a casually dispensed, massive payload of poop. It seemed a tad miffed at the miss but shrugged it’s feathery shoulders and cruised on. It looked like a good omen to us and we’d no other ideas. "That’ll do. Follow the bird!" We did, and found the pub but three minutes later. Our sense of triumph faded somewhat as we realised the rest of the Hash had already buggered off into the bush. The Einstein crew made the sensible decision. "We’ll just have a drink in the pub. Enjoy the run. Ta,ta." And they shot off in a cloud of dust, tongues hanging out. It was very tempting to join them, I’ll admit. But the Scribe must report the Hash so I grabbed my machine, stiffened the sinews, summoned up the blood, cried "God for England, Harry and St. George" and raced out of the car park as if Julian Clary had just offered to take my inside leg measurement.

I must offer grateful thanks to Hares Centaur and Skydiver for providing those excellent directional arrows that enabled me to catch up with tail enders Miranda and Cap’n Haystax, and shortly after Centaur, Lonely and Dwight with baby Samuel. It has to be noted that at various times during the evening small clusters of large, hairy blokes were to be seen clucking and cooing around young Samuel. "Aaah. Look at his ickle nosey wosey." "Diddums want more milkie wilkies?" "Ootchy, cootchy coo." Were some of the more masculine observations made by Erik the Viking, Dave, Spunky et al. Sadly, the little fellow hasn’t discovered projectile vomiting yet and couldn’t shut them up.

Despite attempting to follow a non-Hasher across a field and meeting Iceman coming towards us and away from the pack Lonely, Tom, GBH and I found the regroup in the middle of the verdant forest. Quite a gathering it was too and very nice it was to see Scrumper again. He has been away through an ankle injury. Apparently, this was caused while staggering back pissed as a newt from the Oktoberfest and tripping over a tramline! A true Hasher if ever there was. Now one of the saddest sights at the regroup (and at various times after) was TinOpener, who was on his bike and wearing what appeared to be a plastic road drain cover on his head. Presumably he was angling for a free Down Down pint – let’s face it, you wouldn’t do it otherwise – and indeed C5 was swayed by this obvious ploy and gave him one (er, as it were) when it came to the awards.

The trail split for Long and Short and all the wimps who thought we were going to run up Coombe Gibbet hill scuttled off on the Short. Yes, that’s you Wally, EasyRider, Danish and a quite large contingent. In the event, we had a variegated scrub, forest and tarmac trail and we didn’t get to hang around the old gibbet (thank goodness!). The pace was fairly fast and I managed to run with TT2 and discuss his leg, Spunky and discuss his leg, Florence and discuss TT2’s leg again and C5 and discuss (and view) Handful’s legs, which were a lot more interesting than the others I can tell you. I also managed a brief chat with TwinCam and Heather, neither of whom has run with us for ages. Nice to see you, girls.

We managed to go through (or round) a small, muddy ford and full marks to C5, Itsyor and TinOpener (yes, on his bike) who literally filled their boots. However, Itsyor did stop and return to clean his shoes which was a really quite pathetic sight. The trail hit some tarmac and BGB and I got suckered into checking a nice little false up a side alley. We returned to the amusing sight of Anorak telling Mick off for not checking this very false. On seeing us she sped off without so much as a ‘kiss my elbow’, leaving the poor chap as open-mouthed as a basking shark in mid-lunch bask. We piled through a gate on to inkpen Common, then TwinCam kindly opened up some barbed wire for me to step through. An action which I then reciprocated. There had been little point to our noble actions though, since we then returned back through a gate but a metre hence. I do love the Hares’ little jokes, don’t you? We beasted through more forest, furze and bracken, found the biggest check circle ever seen, then grinned in a gentlemanly manner as Heather nearly ‘did a Baldrick’ on some rotting wood steps. Erik the Viking and I got it entirely wrong at one point, returned and watched OldFart doing exactly the same thing in the opposite direction. It was but a short trot from here to the ‘On Inn’ and Spunky and I paced down the road and into the car park. This was an excellent Hash, not too long and not too short, through all sorts of terrain and it was very noticeable that the pack stayed together for most of the time. Well done centaur and Skydiver.

RA C5 presented the following :-