MANY THANKS TO

PICKLED FART of LONDON HASH who supplied this account.

London Run number 1518 Berkshire Run number 1302 10/11/02

Venue: The Duke of Wellington , Twyford

Hare: Caboose

When two great Hashes, such as London and Berkshire, get together for a joint run it is bound to be an unforgettable experience, and this was.

Around thirty assorted hashers and a small pack of dogs were eventually cajoled out the pub for the start of the run. Greenfly, the scheduled co-hare, had apparently flown off somewhere, leaving the pack in the hands of Caboose. “There will be a short trail and a long trail”. He announced to the assembled throng as they poised for the start of the run. “the walkers should hold back at the start” . And then, as an afterthought, “Oh, and by the way, you will need some money for a beer stop “. Five minute adjournment while half the pack walks off back to their cars to get some money, muttering something along the lines of ; “What a silly-Billy not to have mentioned this a bit earlier“. In the meanwhile Thunder Thighs took the opportunity to issue dire warnings to the other dog owners about the alleged savagery of my dog , Duchess, towards her fellow canines, fearing that the slavering brute might fall upon Shep’s cross-bred Pit Bull at any moment and tear the unfortunate animal apart before our eyes.

Despite this inauspicious pre-amble the run got off to a good start, straight off road and along the Banks of the river Lodden. Fresh air and shiggy, just what we London Hashers want when we come out to the country. After about half a mile the trail left the river and turned under the Railway to come to a timely false trail/back check. The pack enthusiastically broke up checking in all directions. But to no avail. After twenty minutes or so, and with no sign of an alternative trail , or the Hare, enthusiasm, not to say patience, was starting to dissipate. Shep announced that he was going for a run and disappeared into the watery wilderness followed by his faithful hound. Some of the pack had ventured beyond the false trail mark and discovered the On –In, and, in the absence of any obvious alternative, Iceman , Old Fart and Muff, decided upon the novel approach of following the trail backwards and were duly followed by a handful of other Hashers. Eventually the Hare did show up to rescue the scattered remnants of the pack. The whole thing had been a false trail all the way from the Pub! The real trail left the pub in completely the opposite direction. How obvious! How could we have failed to work this out?

The remaining Hashers got pack to the pub in ones and two’s and set off along the real trail but all semblance of a pack was gone for good before the trail proper had even started so the reader must forgive me if my narrative becomes rather subjective at this point. After a few miles, I found myself in the company of Lonely and Beaver, whilst an injured Zebedee (or was it his TT2?) plodded resolutely on behind., when we came across a division in the trail. The long /short divide? At that point a small group of hashers appeared from the right hand fork running in the opposite direction to ourselves. They had been following the trail the wrong way round and were bemoaning it’s length. We were unable to reassure them that they were anywhere close to the end (or the beginning, depending on how you look at it) and, disturbingly, we concluded that they must have followed the short trail backwards. Bravely we embarked upon the long, left hand, trail. Lonely and beaver went off at a tangent at the next check never to be seen again, whilst the plodding Zebedee picked up the trail which was leading us ever further from the Pub . After another mile or so a few more Berkshire Hasher who had been following the long trail in reverse passed by. and also Rambo and a couple of Berkshire Hashers appeared from somewhere running the long trail in the right direction.

The reader may be confused at this point, we certainly were, so for clarity I shall sum up the situation; Some hashers who had not done the false trail were following the short trail the right way round. Some hashers who had given up looking for the right trail at the end of the false trail were running the short trail the wrong way round. Some hashers who had followed the false trail and had, eventually, returned to the pub and were running the short trail the right way round but were two miles behind the other hashers who were also doing it the right way round but had not done the false trail. Some hashers who had run through the false trail to follow the long trail backwards had picked up the long trail and were running it the wrong way round. Some hashers who had done the false trail and returned to the pub followed the long trail the right way round. Shep gave up with the trail altogether at the end of the false trail and went for a run with his dog. With the benefit of hindsight he probably made the wisest decision.

I am afraid I cannot give a first hand account of the circle. The long trail was very, very, long and I was out for three hours (others were out even longer!). Many of the Berkshire hashers had to get home to their Sunday lunch and the circle had been held and concluded long before I returned. The recriminations however continued. “Next time we have a joint run we will have to make sure it is a Berkshire Hare” opined a Berkshire Harriet, clearly implying that it was all London’s fault . “ ’scuse me!” interjected a London Hasher defensively. “But I thought that it was a Berkshire Hare”. There then followed some debate about whether Caboose was a London or Berkshire Hare, as he ran with both Hashes. The conclusion was that as far as this run was concerned he was most definitely a “Berk”, at least I think that was the word, which I assume means Berkshire Hasher.

On On

Pickled Fart