C5 Mr. Blobby Baldrick Chopstix NipponTuck Hashgate Caboose Danish Natasha Tom Dorté Potty Nutcracker Wally Spot Lemming Mother Theresa CanOpener Iceman Motox BGB Caboose LeVoisin LadyCockHorse Greenfly Ms. Whiplash Salome Dribbler Mrs. Blobby Lynda Utopia Zebedee Florence Hamlet and Jake the dog Shep and Gnarler the dog Lonely and Beaver the dog Septic Handful Cheating PonyExpress HeyBabe ShaginaJag… and finally, Flash

Sunday morning saw a frightening display of naked lust for power as Baldrick seized an eagerly awaited chance to overthrow the GM and become Hash supremo. Not since Zebedee’s blatant attempt to increase his powerbase by placing his own branding on the Spring Run Sheet have we seen such a Borgia-like bid for the ultimate crown. Richelieu’s scheming is as nothing in comparison. Machiavelli was but a posturing juvenile. Ms. Whiplash was slightly delayed and the clock ticked round to 11:00. The Hash crowd was ready for the off and Baldrick strode purposefully to our centre, unnaturally bright of eye and wiping flecks of foam from his mouth before calling us to "Gather round" in a triumphant Hibernian falsetto. Gasps rent the air. It was a bloodless coup. Would the downtrodden Hashers accept the new leader? But it was not to be. Baldrick’s reign ended quicker than any other despot in known history as Ms. Whiplash swept manfully (that’s a purely descriptive sort of term; no offence intended) into the circle and seized back the reins of power, dashing the chalice of triumph from the Baldrickian lips and banishing the upstart to the outer edges of the Gather Round. Order was restored. Our world was safe. We breathed once again.

And indeed there were bucketloads of this lovely stuff. The fellow in the picture would have (literally) been in his element as were many of us. C5 and Mr. Blobby had done us proud and we must thank the Blob for standing in for Dumper who had to ‘back’ out. We of course wish Dumper our very best for a speedy lumbar recovery and I would advise him that at his age leaping from the top of the wardrobe to join that vixen Septic on the bed below dressed in naught but a kipper tie and a pair of sheepskin knee muffs is not highly recommended.

But to the run. Bearing in mind that the Hares nearly got themselves lost in the dense forest it’s surprising that only the walking Ms. Whiplash, Salome, Greenfly and Tony became entirely confused ‘mongst the leafy dells. Oh, and Cheating who had the daft notion that it was a ‘crossover trail’ and buggered off into the green depths, never to be seen again. Foghorn led the mad dash into the forest, bursting through the branches like a bear with it’s bum on fire. That is until I caught up with him as he stopped, bent double on the track. Eyes streaming, great rasping whoops and coughs emanated from his racking body. "Swallowed a fly!" He uttered hoarsely, racking some more. I considered the Heimlich manouevre. This involved bear-hugging the fellow from behind, then pulling him sharply towards me while thrusting the front of me into the back of him in order to expel our six-legged friend. Had this been any of the ladies on the Hash I would not have hesitated (although it might have taken quite a lot of hugging and thrusting) but bearing in mind Spot was hovering nearby with his camera I decided it would be better to watch and laugh rather than be plastered all over trhe front page of the Sun under a ‘Hashers In Gay Forest Orgy’ headline.

The best parts of this Hash were the series of streams we had to cross and Shep, Lemming and Foghorn happily covered people in great tsunamis of water. Shep even managed to drench some lady’s champion husky so that it looked as though a polar bear had peed on it from a great height. I accidentally soaked Handful and PonyExpress while tripping over a small manatee who was indulging in a languid backstroke downstream. Unfortunately, the girls missed seeing the creature as he rounded a bend and so did not believe my explanation. I pressed on behind a rather damp-looking NipponTuck and we caught up with an even wetter Florence who seemed rather concerned about her crotch. "It’s hanging down around my knees." She wailed. As a gentleman I felt I could offer no further comment. Fortunately, she offered it for me. "It gets to be a problem at my age." She admitted. Ah well, if she’s with BUPA there’s always the operation known euphemistically as a ‘feline elevator’… you work it out.

Soon after this Wally managed to smash his hat off with a low branch while running after me to chat. I mused at the time that a centimetre lower and he could have had his very own arboreal frontal lobotomy and musing further on the torpid, yet happy, inmates of the hospital in ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest’ I could only believe this would have been to everyone’s advantage. We cracked on, o’er hill and woody dale, until a particularly steep slope led us to the welcome regroup. Now we had to wait here quite a while since some of us (Zebedee, Foghorn, Hamlet, Tom, Caboose etc) had run far too fast. Boredom set in. Zebedee instituted some serious plant compost abuse against Lemming who retaliated with Shep until Zeb looked like an Al Jolsen stand-in. As more arrived Septic was spotted actually running and Dribbler, Shep, Foghorn and Zeb were discussing banking! Fortunately we were soon sent on our way, past a surprised Sunday car washing brigade in a tarmac, suburban loop. This was actually quite a bit of fun and it took us right back into the forest where F’s aplenty screwed Foghorn, Zeb and me and enabled C5 and the pack to cruise on by as we dallied in the bush. A final, thigh-deep stream appeared and Lemming and Foghorn armed themselves with poles to splash the unwary. Iceman craftily jumped it further up. C5 only just saved himself from falling in backwards. BGB got a footfull. Mr. Blobby helped Mrs. Blobby in up to the ankles – ever the caring husband. LeVoisin bravely waded across, caring nothing about those little barbed fish that swim up your willy. And then it was a fairly hard schlep through fine country to catch up with ShaginaJag, Ms. Whiplash, Salome and Greenfly before hurtling back to the fine old pub.

A fine Hash laid by Hares with many, many, many years of experience. Thanks chaps.

RA Motox presented the following :-