RUN 1443 – THE CROSS KEYS, KNARESBOROUGH.
HARE: - Sprinkler the Substitute
Just as well it wasn’t St. Swithin’s day – as the unending rain of the previous two days continued into the night with increased ferocity, hardy Hashers eventually crawled out of various refuge spots to congregate in front of the pub to be briefed, not by the named hare, I’m Coming who had chosen this evening to carry out one of her bucket shop list things to do by attending a football match at Elland Road, but by a valiant substitute cunningly disguised as a scarlet Michelin man!!!
Closer inspection revealed it was in fact, Sprinkler, clad in an all encompassing Goretex garb so festooned with trademark logos and names that it had to be have been nicked from a shop display somewhere. Just time to extend a very wet welcome to virgin Eddie, before a very brief briefing on the lines of – “there’s no markings ‘cos the rain would have washed them out, instead it’s going to be cryptic clue time relating to focal points of Knaresborough” – which for those of us, the majority, who did not live in that aforesaid town, was a bit like answering the specialist questions section on Mastermind on a subject that we knew nothing about.
As the fifteen gallant souls streamed off, literally and metaphorically, into the night and onto roads and paths turned into torrents of water, the rain increased in intensity – lovely!!!
The first clue had some relevance to most, encompassing the “point that all Knaresborough trails arrive at” which sure enough turned into the Golden Checkpoint, but thereafter increasingly obscure references to local points of “interest” served only to sow confusion amongst the flotsam and jetsam of the Hash carried along on the rushing waters.
At least, thought I, the conditions will mean we will be spared the village idiot syndrome encountered on the last run at Pateley Bridge, but soon news filtered back that Blind Pew had been viciously assaulted by a very tall local hooligan and had been escorted back to the pub by kind volunteers Clueless and Rivet. Clueless is getting some form for this volunteering to miss out on runs that could be described as challenging after last week’s car keys mishap!! Later interrogation revealed that the tall hooligan had actually been a lamp post that had darted across the pavement into Blind Pew’s path. Not sure about the lamp post but Blind Pew looked to have come off worse!
A rough anti clockwise run took us around the some familiar, and so familiar bits of Knaresborough and back to the pub in just over an hour of running in rain which only changed from heavy to very heavy, to torrential throughout. Knaresborough runs laid by the Sprinker/I’m Coming combo are getting a reputation for this sort of weather!!
Back at the pub it was time to sample some excellent beer, reward the Hare, welcome Eddie with an unusual drinking goblet courtesy of Busby and Pussy’s Portugal holiday and salute all those who had attended with down downs so that didn’t leave much for Hash funds!
On, On TS
RUN 1444 – CHEZ LADY GREY, LEEDS ROAD, HARROGATE.
HARE: - Lady Grey and half a Little Urn (must be a ¼ then!!)
Of course it couldn’t rain again like last week could it??
Rocky came up with the encouraging words that a thunderstorm was predicted to centre itself over Harrogate for an hour or so staring at 7 pm and he was just about right with his prediction. Light rain rapidly turned into the usual torrential stuff as Hashers reluctantly congregated for a very brief briefing by Lady Grey who said something about wanting to run the first bit in daylight – and we thought Chief Twelve Crates had problems with BST!!
However attention had been paid by the hares to potential weather disruption of signs with the flour being well rubbed into pavements and so as long as the puddles and streams weren’t too deep one could actually find the trail from time to time.
A nice big loop around some of the nicer streets of Harrogate taking in the Stray side path for good measure and some well placed back arrows brought the party of thirteen back to Leeds Road by which time the rain had stopped in accordance with Rock’s predictions!! No one got lost, even Stick managed to stay with the Hash all evening though he was heard to complain that trails that did to give him the opportunity to slope off to a pub weren’t his cup of tea – or glass of beer.
Not content with laying a good, well marked trail with Little Urn’s partial assistance, Lady Grey had also managed to welcome us back with loads of hot sausages and onions and other nibbles at which an unusual silence fell upon the Hash as the food was devoured by the gently steaming masses. We were then joined by the Northallerton contingent of Golden Showers and I Love It who claimed that a sudden onset of a snotty nose had forced them to take refuge in the Alex for an hour or so which just happened to coincide with the length of the thunderstorm. Needless to say white wine had been consumedJ!!
Down, downs for the Hares, Rocky for walking around Wales ( of having the sense to stop walking round Wales), Chief Twelve Crates for having a waterproof jacket that wasn’t and Sprinkler for coming over all nostalgic at the sight of blue lights flashing on Leeds Road behind a pulled over van completed the evening’s entertainment.
Thanks again to Lady Grey for catering for us so well on what could have been a dismal evening but which turned out very well indeed.
On, On
TS
RUN 1445 – THE ALEX, HARROGATE.
HARE: - Posh Pup and Newbile
A goodly crowd gathered on a fine, dry evening for what one assumed would be a genteel stroll around the finer shopping boulevards of Harrogate on a trail laid under the auspices of Posh Pup – such a nice lady and unlikely to inflict any pain and suffering on the Hash.
Newcomers Pat and Jack joined us as graduates from the PUPS Hash pool of running talent lured on, no doubt, by the same premise that a Posh Pup town centre trail can’t be that bad – time for a little window shopping on the way round and admire the sights on the way sort of thing.
Usual hare’s briefing – “the markings are all as usual” – and off we go. Soon found out that they were not all as usual as there were no false trails marked which lead to the GM getting lost off the back of the pack very early on and no one running the first back arrow back to me!!! A quick computation when I eventually caught up made me realise that hash funds could not withstand penalties being imposed upon all the miscreants to that particular misdemeanour.
By this time the town centre had been left far behind and the trail plunged ever on into the wilds of North West Harrogate and even a darkened ginnel was traversed – talk about mean streets!! The katabatic wind effect of the clear, cold evening was suddenly noted as we plunged on down through Coppice Park woods and the cold air piled up at the bottom of the hill. Downhill meant of course that eventually we would have to go up again and the hares took great delight in hauling us all up from the lowest of low points by the Hydro (where our virgins left us and got the bus back to the town centre!!) over the hill and through the Duchy before dropping down again into Low Harrogate.
There Posh Pup’s sins were almost forgiven as beer and food in abundance were provided by the hares in the thoughtfully constructed shelter in Crescent Gardens – ideal for such a gathering though I suspect the Victorians didn’t have us in mind when building it!!
A final plod back up Montpellier brought us back to the pub and the inevitable retribution (and thanks, for the beer stop) for the hares in down downs. The secret RA for the evening was I’m Coming, who throatily revealed to me that she had no voice left and that I would have to do all the announcements, so I became a ventriloquist’s dummy for the duration, administering welcomes to our virgins, Pat and Jack, and admonishments to Lady Grey, Blankety Blank for leaving his wife in the lurch the week before, Golden Showers for mobile phone use, Pussy for chasing after a husband who was not her own and ME for getting lost!!
Finally a presentation to Busby for completing 900 runs - a CM achievement award of a fine fleece jacket – perfect for the evening’s weather.
Finally large amounts of bookings were taken for the Christmas dinner – places are going fast, book early to avoid disappointment!!!!!
On, OnTS
RUN 1446 – THE WATER RAT, RIPON.
HARE: - Hog
A largish group of 20+ souls congregated beside the still fast flowing river on a mercifully fine, dry evening with no floods in sight. The strolling minstrel that is Hog, fresh from intensive rehearsals for a play wot he did not write, set us of with minimal words of briefing.
The nice thing about Ripon is that it is relatively flat, as evidenced by both a canal and a river that regularly floods the lower lying areas of the town, so running around the place is not too taxing from a hill climbing point of view. However a neatly laid out trail with an abundance of back arrows provided sufficient challenge to keep the chill of the evening off the Hash.
An unexpected early bonus half way round came by way of a Chocolate Stop complete with an abundance of choccie bars and non alcoholic beer to wash it down. Some very convincing imitations of Jimmy Savile at his creepiest led by Buggerall were enough to entice some female Ripon Harriers to cross the road and sample what was on offer, but not alas, enough to persuade them to turn to the dark side of Hashing.
Thinking that was a nice way to mark the near end of the trail the Hash became increasingly concerned as the trail wound its way further away from the pub and towards the general direction of Dallowgill – maybe a beer stop at the Hare’s house was in order chundered Jack Tar in the darkness??
Sanity eventually prevailed and a turn back into town had us viewing the floodlight sights of Ripon Cathedral and the deserted Market Square, and very fine they looked to in the clear night air, before eventually winding our way back to the pub but not before a post box was discovered for Golden Shower!! Where else can one run for 4 miles in a built up area and not pass a post box??
In view of the onerous workload of the RA in rehearsals and laying a trail a secret RA had been appointed in the shape of Helen, our esteemed Hash Cash, and to show us that he could be as generous with the funds as anyone else, he liberally bestowed down downs on the Hare, Ross for returning and using a mobile phone on the Hash, Jack Tar for numerous misdemeanours, Buggerall for historic misspelling, Chief Twelve Crates for being heard and Golden Showers for being a postie!!
Good run, good beer and a small, but select group enjoyed fish ‘n chips from the paper outside the Ripon Fishery a little later to round off a fine evening.
On On
RUN 1447 – THE EMPRESS, HARROGATE.
HARE: - STICKI had a hard day in London on Friday, up at 0500, meetings all over town so I was quite pleased when I managed to finish a bit earlier than planned and drop into my London club for a bit of relaxation before catching the booked train back north. My club happens to be the British Library just next to Kings Cross, free to get in, nice quiet air conditioned atmosphere decent cafe free chilled water and some comfy seats if one can get rid of the students who hang out in there. Going in through the doors I noticed an exhibition was being held based on the manuscript of On The Road by Jack Kerouac - the novel/semi factual tale of his meandering journey across the USA and which was seen as the catalyst for the so called beat generation of the late 50’s and 60’s and inspired many of whom I was but one to seek out the same life and adventure in journeys across the USA and Europe. Kerouac famously stuck hundreds of pages together into a scroll 1200 feet long so that he could continuously run it through his typewriter and thus have nothing get in the way of his creative flow. He largely disregarded punctuation paragraphs and even spelling so that his narrative could run on fuelled by copious amounts of various stimulants for the three weeks he took to write it. About 50 feet of the manuscript was laid out in a glass case supported by a fetching montage of grainy black and white photos of the period and the landscape through which he travelled. Reading bits of it again after so long I was struck by now dated and of its time it now seemed and there was more interest in watching the other onlookers who broadly divided into two sets the older ones to whom it was a part of their early lives and who regarded it with a nostalgic half smile playing on their faces and a younger lot who wondered what all the fuss had been about.
What has this got to do with hashing and Stick’s trail? Well to start at the end there was a brief discussion between Hog his son and myself in the pub after the trail about this very book and how it stood up to a reread and Stick’s trail itself was a bit like the book a seamless nostalgic trip through a fog shrouded Harrogate in the flattest part of town possible without a hill or even a trail in parts to mark its passage. Nostalgia continued to flow as we passed Granby School and Clueless and Blankety Blank regaled us with stories of how fine a school it was when they started there and mental images formed of a gym slip clad Clueless and a cap topped Blankety Blank dragging reluctant satchels to school all those years ago on their own journeys of discovery. We never did find out whether the school was as good when they left as when they started. Back to the pub and down downs were administered but the fog had got to my brain and I can’t remember any details of to whom and chips were consumed courtesy of Stick. The Posty couple popped in out of the mist to meet up with us after absences of a few weeks and nostalgia flowed again as tales of Little Stiffy’s appearance in a bikini at a previous AGPU were retold.
It’s got to be said that punctuation does help a bit after all but hey I don’t get paid
Where we went!!
RUN 1448 – TORQUE STEER MANSIONS, HARROGATE.
HARE: - TORQUE STEER; CATERING: - CUPCAKE
My in box was brimming with volunteers wishing to let loose their creative juices on writing the words for this run – not!!!!
So sadly I will recount it myself in the most dispassionate terms possible given my position as Hare, Host and GM
Brilliant, fantastic, superb feat of organisation, willing participation and complete and selfless devotion to Hash principles – and that just referred to the catering by Cupcake afterwards and the successful efforts of the Hash to prevent myself dining on chilli for the rest of the week.
The run itself through the leafy suburbs of Harrogate was notable by the reluctance of the Hash to run - something to do with the unfortunate combination of Hare and Torque Steer – where each step was greeted with the mounting suspicion of luring the Hash ever on to a trail leading further and further away from the venue. Even the sight of a Dobson Towers being constructed part way into the “run” did not enhance the speed. It got so recalterant in progress that even newly arrived WeeMouFlom, fresh from the delights of Camp Bastion, was heard to remark that she thought this was a running Hash not a strolling one!! (her words may have been slightly eggagerated for dramatic effect).
There was some excuse for those who paraded in full Halloween attire ( see pictures) but near mutiny ensued when we arrived at the super golden check outside of Valley Gardens, with no less than nine potential trails to chose from, and the ensuing correct one led the Hash away from the the presumed direct route back up through Valley Gardens!
A slight detour brought them finally to the top of the Gardens where seditious behaviour broke out in the ranks, organised by Clueless, who led a breakaway party back to TS Mansions. Unfortunately they were soon caught and swallowed up by the more loyal members who had attempted to find the true trail, and rapidly did so, all arriving together as a perfect trail should aim to doJ!!
The secret RA , Pauline, proceeded to bestow suitable punishment upon said dissident breakaways, bade welcome to WeMouFlom and bestowed honours on the Hare for a perfect trail which was immediately followed bythe large scale consumption of food and drink provided.
Where we went!!
RUN 1449 – THE MITRE, KNARESBOROUGH.
HARE: - BLIND PEW
A run in Knaresborough, thought I with a sigh, as I gazed out of a rain lashed window, well at least the weather is just as it should be for that venue. However surprise, surprise by the time I got there, after the inevitable delay at Starbeck level crossing, the rain had stopped and the sky was getting increasingly clear. Nevertheless the turn out was a mere eleven souls perhaps influenced by local sightings of the Hare out laying the trail at 0930 and still laying it at 1630!!! Blind Pew explained that he had been out twice as the rain had washed away his earlier trail, the wind had blown the flour away, leaves had fallen onto the markings – all the usual excuses one hears from a hare before a run.
Off we went into the night and flour was indeed found in large quantities as we headed down to the riverside, but surprisingly turned away from the steps and paths up to the castle and instead plunged into the darkness of the riverside park and hall for an off-piste excursion before eventually arriving back on Bond End. Thereafter we explored various bits of Knaresborough, even finding some housing that that was new to Jack Tar. On the way we were regaled with delipidation tips by Golden Showers – start at the toes for those interested - discovered some particularly brightly lit ginnels and just as rebellion was about to raise its head again, led by that usual formentor Clueless, we bent back towards the pub. Even that was not without a cunning sting in the tail, as almost within sight of the pub, the trail zoomed off again so that we could get a close up of the much locally discussed church bell practice which started promptly at 2000.
Back at the pub the secret RA was revealed as Jack Tar and he properly praised the Hare for a well marked and well thought out trail (and on which Blind Pew had not got lost!!), exacted revenge on I Love It for mocking him at AGPUP (see what wielding temporary power can bring), Rocky for forgetfulness and daringly the GM for providing a heart attack moment to a Knaresborough resident and being a representative of posh Harrogate!! His bravery must have been brought on by drinking very expensive Jairpur lager and the thought that I will forget about it over his forthcoming holiday – no chance!!
Where we went!!
RUN 1450 – THE HARLOW HOTEL, HARROGATE.
HARE: - BLANKETY BLANK
“We’ell tak the high pub” might well have been the signature tune for this venue situated on top of the highest hill in town closely followed by “The only way is down” as inevitably that would be where the Hare’s trail would lead us once it got going – or if it got going - as the Hare revealed a touching naivety as to what symbols meant much to a, not so loyal, spouse’s disbelief!!
Oh well it will make for some mental gymnastics thought the assembled pack boosted by Sam, a friend of Little Urn’s, and their joint youthful enthusiasm will perhaps sort out any mishaps in trail laying and so off into the dark we went on the promise by the Hare of a short run and back before 8 o’clock – yea whatever!
Resisting the lure of the immediate delights of the Pinewoods I reasoned that the Hare’s local knowledge would take us into the depths of Harlow Village, as the estate agents like to call it nowadays, and so it proved. Waiting at the first regroup for everyone to catch up the Hash was joined by a stranger clad in dark clothing and a black ski mask who did not speak but held up a sign saying “Guess who at the end”. His appearance freaked out several lady members who were convinced we had been joined by a mad, would be rapist, waiting to pounce upon them in some dark ginnel. Such protestations cued further musical reminisces of a Geordie folk song that goes –
One neet as she waas gannin’ ta bed
She thought she heerd a soond
Looked under the bed and a burglar there she foond.
But she didna cry nor faint,
She cried hurray
She went and locked the door
Titty fa la, titty fa lay
She thought she heerd a soond
Looked under the bed and a burglar there she foond.
But she didna cry nor faint,
She cried hurray
She went and locked the door
Titty fa la, titty fa lay
Anyway I digress, back to the Hash which by now had encountered several of the Hare’s idiosyncratic markings before the long anticipated downhill commenced leading us eventually to the path over the PInewoods ridge which had been thoughtfully lit by the Hare with glow sticks, leading Rocky to wonder out loud who had put them there!!! When the trail continued downwards to Cornwall Road and the lower reaches of Valley Gardens even youthful enthusiasm started to dwindle and be replaced with cunning short cutting but at least there was no outright rebellion as the ringleaders of the previous weeks’ revolts were absent.
Still the mysterious Hasher remained covered and guesses abounded as to who it was even as he gasped and breathed deeply through his mask as Cold Bath Road hill took its toll before the final On In left us with the Otley Road hill to overcome before the pub.
Our mysterious hasher revealed himself to be none other than Spa Man back after a mere 15 years absence – seemed like yesterday –but good to see him back and keeping up despite his mask!! He had been inspired by Jack Tar posting a picture of them together long ago on the website so it’s good to see someone looks at it!!
The sausages and chips kindly laid on by the Hare had not gone cold despite the extended nature of the trail and he was suitably rewarded along with Sam the virgin, Spa Man the returnee, Rocky the whatever (probably the end of the world according to the Mayan calendar), I’m Coming for barging into the geriatric GM and seriously injuring him and the GM for being too geriatric to get out of the way!!
Then it was Lady Grey’s turn for learning more in 50 runs about trail laying than her hubbie in 150 and Peak Practice for achieving 400 outings – I could have called them runs but you know what she’s likeJ
Where we went –
RUN 1451 – THE KNOX ARMS, HARROGATE
HARES:- PEAK PRACTICE AND ROCKY
Stop press!!
Fame at last for the Hash!!
Hares arrested and thrown into jail!!
Fame at last for the Hash!!
Hares arrested and thrown into jail!!
Well, not quite the latter but one can dream.
Excerpt from the Harrogate Advertiser 22/11/12
Excerpt from the Harrogate Advertiser 22/11/12
After all the excitement both before and after the run one could have expected the run itself to be a bit anti climatic.
Not a bit of it as it involved speedy running by some, a pub stop after only 1.2 miles, bike porn, naked ladies and men with naughty bits discreetly hidden, a book shop and enough flour to feed China for at least a week – oh - and a hare who tried to be the first back on her own trail – guess who that was?
Not a bit of it as it involved speedy running by some, a pub stop after only 1.2 miles, bike porn, naked ladies and men with naughty bits discreetly hidden, a book shop and enough flour to feed China for at least a week – oh - and a hare who tried to be the first back on her own trail – guess who that was?
You just had to be there – pity only a dozen or so had turned out to witness the goings on but nevertheless we were all well entertained, and did a bit of running as well on a short trail that, unusually for Peak Practice, involved some cunning turns and detours as we followed the dog fouling signs around Bilton. They are obviously very intelligent dogs in that location as each sign was placed on lamp posts at just the right height for a dog to read it before he cocked his leg!!
Our secret RA for the evening was Blankety Blank and he suitably rewarded the hares for the entertainment value of the run, I’m Coming for speeding (ironic or what), Lady Grey for offences too numerous to mention and Pauline for being too slow to get to the pub stop for a beer!!!
Where we went -
RUN 1452 - THE REGENCY, HARROGATE
HARE: Newbile
A worrying sight when the Hare’s spouse shakes her head in a decidedly negative manner to indicate that she had absolutely nothing to do with the Trail on which we were about to embark – “No, NO it’s all down to him” was the quote. Usual disingenuous briefing – all markings exactly as they should be, all false trails marked and so on and off we went into a crisp night air.
We hadna’ gone but 50 yards when suddenly there’s a shoot – a bl**dy back arrow before the first check is reached and back we go to find aforesaid spouse in conversation with the tardy Hare thus elongating the run for everyone – nice!! A swift word sorted that one outJ
It must have been the presence of our returning thespian RA but the pack moved along at a goodly pace fearful of the retribution that could be wrought if they were seen to be trailing along, with the chattering classes fairly quiet for once. However, not content with his arrest and write up in the Advertiser last week, Rocky attempted unsuccessfully to get his picture in next week’s edition by harassing some innocent bystander trying to take a photo of the Stray tree lights. Various members of the Hash took it upon themselves to go window shopping in bridal shops and one couple even decided to run into Comet’s closing down sale and buy a dishwasher, none of these escapades escaping the eagle eye of the RA and his loyal snitches.
And then the ultimate crime for a Hare – not marking a false trail and losing the GM as he followed a truly marked trail for miles on his own through the town centre. Despite manful calling by the GM the pack insisted on following the urgings of the Hare to run down to the Crown roundabout and Crescent Gardens, no doubt hopeful of being bribed by a plentifully supplied beer stop in the shelter there which Posh Pup had provided a few weeks ago. No such luck this time and they ploughed on to be eventually reunited with the GM after his extra miles not long before the On In.
Down downs were administered to the Hare, Rocky for posing, The vestal virgins for bridal dress shopping and Lady Grey and Blankety Blank for actual shopping, made even more notable for the former beating her hubbie in the down, down – practice does make perfect – and the GM for running extra miles, or getting lost as it was cruelly put.
Food arrived in plentiful profusion and a good evening was well rounded off.Where we went.
RUN 1453 – RIVET AND LITTLE STIFFY’S ABODE, HARROGATE
HARE: RIVET & LITTLE STIFFY
Have you seen the size of Rivet’s pies – nudge, nudge, wink, wink!!!!
Well I haven’t as unfortunately I missed the run but did see the photos – and very revealing they were tooJ
It’s a pity that no one out of those who were there and were very happy to nosh down on the food so thoughtfully prepared for them saw fit to volunteer to write some brief words to celebrate the occasion and the effort put in by their hosts for the evening.
My talents are many and various but unfortunately do not extend to clairvoyance but I am sure it was an excellent rail and a good night out.
Next time I am not there someone stick their hand up and actually volunteer to do something without being asked!!
RUN 1454 – THE ROYAL OAK, KNARESBOROUGH
HARE: CLUELESS (and a bit of Jack Tar allegedly!!)
We have heard them all before –
· well it rained and washed the trail out,· the leaves fell off the trees and covered the trail
· it snowed after I laid the trail
· the sheep ate the flour
· the wind was so strong that it blew all the flour away
and so on – but never the tale of the over-zealous roadsweeper who followed Clueless all the way round Knaresborough sweeping up her flour as fast as it was laid determined that the pristine nature of the town, bedecked with its Christmas lights, would not be despoiled by such ungainly heaps as Clueless was obviously laying.
So off we went looking for a trail that may or may not be there, on a route that may or may not be the right one, on roads not only swept clear of flour but by now were also being liberally powdered with a hard frost as temperatures plunged with a bright, clear night sky as a backdrop to our efforts. In fact it was so cold that the patter of Stick’s plimsoled footsteps could be clearly heard as he hurried along to keep warm which shows just how cold it was becoming.
The temptation to descend to the river bank or the route to the Golden Check had been resisted by Clueless and instead we plunged on to the wild lands to the north of town with an abundance of false trails which, as we moved further away from the town centre and the road sweeper’s diligence, became more clearly marked. Some false trails were even marked which life a bit easier for those not chatting at the back and were actually looking for trails and it did mean that keeping warm was a bit easier.
A spectacular view of the viaduct and its reflection in the still dark waters of the River Nidd awaited us from the familiar viewing point within Knaresborough Castle grounds as we moved on to the badlands of outer town. It grew so cold that Sprinkler even assumed the action of an extreme gallant by offering his gloves to a frozen handed I’m Coming – and she accepted!!
The cold had a reasonable speed up effect upon most and we managed to get round and back to the warmth of the pub in a quite respectable time for the promised food after a half heated attempt at a carol rendition at the Christmas tree – the lure of the nearby pub proving too strong.
The cold had a reasonable speed up effect upon most and we managed to get round and back to the warmth of the pub in a quite respectable time for the promised food after a half heated attempt at a carol rendition at the Christmas tree – the lure of the nearby pub proving too strong.
Safely ensconced and warmed up our secret RA, Busby, revealed a generous side in ordering down, downs all round to celebrated the arrival of a son for the now sadly exiled Udderspay and for the first time a down, down was performed in perfect silence as the lure of the free beer proved too strong for the assembled host to do anything other than drink. Some excellent pub grub finished the evening off very well indeed!
RUN 1455 –HALES BAR – HARROGATE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS SPECIAL
HARE: BUSBY & THE PANTO DAME PUSSY
It’s Christmas time and we eagerly assembled for the annual viewing of the spectacular festive lights in town – well at least this year there had been a real effort to provide some proper lighting displays and so off we plodded after a brief that included the words “beer stops” and “walk if you like”.
Strangely there seemed to be a concerted move to get on with it, perhaps the lure of beer stops had provided the necessary incentive get a move on and we fair galloped up into the town centre arriving at the large Christmas tree outside the Victoria Centre where Pussy ordered us into male and female voice choirs for a spirited rendition of her specially composed Hash themed carol – the male side surprisingly, for once, providing the louder vocal input on a Hash.
A not very devious route led us to the Tap and Spile for the first celebratory noggin and then on back towards town where we were joined by our hard working posties fresh from multiple rounds of deliveries just in time for another stop at the advertised newly refurbished (???) Alexandra where we played that familiar parlour game - spot the difference in the decor. Answer was not very much!!
Rivet and Little Stiffy were most downcast at having missed the carol stop so another was arranged specially for them beside the illuminated displays on West Park Stray and Rivet did a very good job of claiming soloist of the year spot for her rendition ably supported by Little Stiffy.
A bit of gentle downhill brought us to a car stop outside of the appropriate Telecom building where sherry and mince pies and other goodies were dispensed by the Hares from the boot of their car before the arduous route was completed back to the pub.
Rewards to the Hares were presented by way of suitable down downs along with the chorists of the night awards to Rivet and Little Stiffy with many more awarded as well but unfortunately I seem to have lost some brain cells following the Christmas do the following Friday and memory has become a blank!!
Some good hot grub was provided courtesy of the Hare which went down very well and everyone was further entertained later on when the Knaresborough Mummers came a calling with a performance in the bar. This was enthusiastically received by the, by then, ever so slightly well lubricated Hashers who were walking home!!!!
RUN 1456 – POSH PUP’S PAD via TORQUE STEER MANSIONS
HARE: CLUELESS (ALLEGEDLY)
It was Christmas Day in the workhouse and all the Hash did groan
Wot - nowhere to run and we’re all alone.
A hardy spirit cried out to all – You’ll see
I’ll organise a trail even though it’s Christmas Day.
An so it came to pass that the assembled throng,
Well Nubile, Posh Pup, Jack Tar, Evers and Flossie
Eagerly embarked upon the night time air
Following Clueless to Torque Steer’s lair.
They boozed a lot and then said goodbye
At least it was downhill to their ............................
Complete the line for a super prizeJ
RUN 1457 – KNARESBOROUGH HOUSE TO HOUSE & SPRINKLER/I’M COMING’S BIER KELLER
HARES: Jack Tar, Blind Pew, Chief Twelve Crates, Sprinkler & Uncle Tom Cobbly and all
It was New Year ’s Day and a voice dimly pierced my semi conscious state – “It’s 2:20pm and I thought you said you were running at Knaresborough at 2:30 – you need to get a move on!!”
Groan, swing upright from sofa, find some running gear, get changed and my chauffeuse whisks me off to the starting house – Chez Sprinkler and I’m Coming - via the obligatory hold up at the Starbeck level crossing for the two train cross over. At least that gives me time to fasten my laces and put on a rain jacket but it looks quite pleasant – sunshine!! Can this be true – a run in Knaresborough without rain???
Arrive at the venue but no sign of the Hash – they must have left promptly, thought I. Find the occasional blue chalk arrow that weaves a tortuous trail through ginnels and back lanes – can’t guess which house we are aiming for next so I have to follow it until I am certain. Head clears a bit in the clear afternoon air and I start to do the maths – 17 minutes late starting so I should catch them in 20 minutes, no problem. Only trouble is the trail has not been laid for late comers so checking each turn becomes ever more time consuming. At last I recognise that the trail is going to Jack Tar’s and the familiar open doored garage looms into view. I arrive just in time to help consume pork pies, pasties and crisps – real Alf Tupper grub – which further restores my equilibrium. On enquiring how they managed to get there so quickly I am firmly told the run started at 2:00 pm so I decide to make do with a lemonade to rehydrate rather than the plentiful alcohol on offer. At least I am not last as we are then joined by Busby who says Pussy will join us a little later
Good drinking decision by me as the next leg of the trail is laid by Blind Pew who forgoes any attempt at New Year conviviality and includes shiggy, back arrows on steep hills and the ultimate crime – no check at the Golden Check point – as we make our way, circuitously of course, to his house. Clueless insists we will be going in through the back garden way and leads us resolutely in that direction only to find the gate is barred and locked so back we go!! More drinks and nibbles on offer as the calorie demands of such extreme distance running take their toll on the assembled throng.
Next leg is by Chief Twelve Crates who thinks it will be too far without another beer stop on the way so we eventually find our route to the Royal Oak where an executive decision enabled the sorely pressed Hashers to be refreshed courtesy of the Hash. Mulled wine served with two cherries and a slice of orange seemed a particular favourite of some and we had a warm welcome from the landlord. We had also picked up Chris, Winston and Hog, the latter who had thought the run started at 7:00 pm so my timing error did not seem quite so bad, and then we lost him again on leaving the pub to fight our way along a tortuous trail to our next stop where Pizza Lady, despite being unwell, had again provided more food and drinks.
Off again, this time on the final leg laid by Sprinkler. I rely upon the local knowledge of Twelve Crates and Clueless to guide me through this stage which proves somewhat misguided as Twelve Crates confessed to never having seen a road some 100m from his house and it all goes a bit awry. No damage done however and we eventually arrive at our destination to be greeted by the arriving Pussy who had timed her effort perfectly to miss out on all the running!! Her excuse of waiting for her Dad did not sound too convincing and may be an early contender for a Golden Ball award for 2013!!
Numbers were further swelled by the arrival of Jane and Cup Cake and strenuous efforts were made to consume the contents of Sprinkler’s barrel of Dent Brewery’s bitter – the marble check counters cunningly employed by Sprinkler clacked along at a fair old rate but the excellent hot food provided courtesy of I’m Coming and Clueless may have ultimately prevented total disposal.
Then a great wrong was righted. Apparently the Sprinkler household had been blighted over the Christmas period by the downcast attitude of himself who had moaned to anyone who cared to listen - I’m Coming, Chris, Chris’s lovely fiancée, Winston the dog, anyone who visited the house - about the injustice he had suffered at the Hash Xmas Dinner when his hat offering had not only not won, but had been judged the worst hat of the evening (photographic evidence is now available on line http://www.photobox.co.uk/my/album?album_id=1700772274 usual password) despite completely independent judging. Jack Tar graciously decided to donate his winning prize to Sprinkler, less only half a chocolate that he had started eating, which Sprinkler eagerly accepted, dashing off to find his hat and recreate the glory of his original creation.
So flushed was he by this late recognition that he took on the role of GM and RA and dispensed large numbers of down, downs to the assembled horde. Unfortunately by this time I had quite lost track of reality due entirely, of course, to all the extreme running I had taken part in (we had been out there for over 4 hours!!) so after just managing to stumble out some thanks to all those who had helped make it such a successful afternoon and evening and providing the hospitality of their homes to us, and which I repeat here, I hope someone else noted who had benefited from the largesse!! (see http://www.photobox.co.uk/album/1700831395 usual password)
Happy New Year!!!!
RUN 1458 – THE HALF MOON, KNARESBOROUGH
HARES: Sprinkler
It’s open!!!
At long last the doors of the newly refurbished pub had opened in time to greet the large turnout of 25 Hashers, obviously still imbued with New Year’s resolutions, who gathered on the corner huddled against the rain – well it was a Sprinkler run and it was Knaresborough so what did you expect??
Now here’s a statistical oddity – what are the chances of Johnny B Rotten returning to us from his stint in Azerbaijan and a visitor in the delightful shape of Turkish Delight from that same country and the same Hash out there turning up on the same night in the little market town of Knaresborough – and them not knowing one another??!!!!
No time for any more chat, off we plunged into a Sprinkler special as we meandered along and then inevitably up the cliff side with a mud chute special for those daft enough to try it – and not to choose to ascend on the ivy instead of the mud!! We may have lost Pauline at this stage or it may have been later but anyway he was back in the pub supping beer even before Stick got there so it shows just how early he departed our throng!
An intricate set of turns and back alleys led us back along towards the town centre with everyone keeping together and Ann Berlin delighting in leading the way at one stage with no breath to chat!! An ever more tortuous route inspecting the pot holes in the mean back streets of the town eventually led us to the Town Hall building right on time for the start of the bell practice in the nearby church. Whereupon Sprinkler, against the background of doom laden bells promised us more pain before the pleasure and the inevitable descent to Waterside via the infamous steps began.
Unfortunately at his stage I relied upon the utterings of Blind Pew and proceeded smoothly along the riverside whilst the rest of the Hash hauled themselves back up the cliff face and then back down through Castle Gardens their moans and groans clearly audible 150’ below – what a shame to have missed out on thatJ!!
Consequently I was the first to arrive at I’m Coming’s hot dog stall in the car park, which she had quietly slipped away from the run earlier to prepare for, and eventually everyone had a very pleasant refreshment stop of hot dogs, apple pies and carrot cake. Well when I say everyone – that’s everyone apart from those who had shortcutted back to the pub – they know who they are. Further New Year resolutions were on display as some hashers declined buns and ate naked hot dogs instead – what iron resolve on their part – and they weren’t even seen in the chip shop later on.
An easy amble back to the pub followed on and there Sprinkler and I’m Coming were duly rewarded, the returnee Johnny and the visitor Turkish Delight welcomed, the modelling services to the benevolent society for milliners by Golden Showers, the garden border destroyer Blankety Blank and short cutter Pauline demonstrated that nothing ever goes unnoticed in the world of Hashing!!
RUN 1459 – THE SWAN - BRAMHAM
HARES: Anne Berlin
Welcome to Annie’s world!!
Where a check isn’t, a regroup is something else, a check back something else again and the only constant was a back arrow. Enough to keep one’s brain from thinking about the freezing conditions and concentrate instead of the philosophy of confusion sowed by the briefing.
Welcome to Annie’s world!!
Where a check isn’t, a regroup is something else, a check back something else again and the only constant was a back arrow. Enough to keep one’s brain from thinking about the freezing conditions and concentrate instead of the philosophy of confusion sowed by the briefing.
So eleven hardy souls plunged into an alternative hashing world on the moonlit hills of Bramham where the freezing fog of the low lying areas was not man/woman enough to climb up to. Result was a clear, crisp night and enough running to keep everyone warm as our trail led us round a surprisingly large village, popping onto executive cul de sacs much to the surprise of the dwellers therein and the inevitable treat of a run through the church graveyard where mist eddied upwards from its still running stream. What gave the water its magical powers to defy the frost that had gripped everything else in an icy embrace?
A newly invented hash sign from our intrepid hare forcing all male runners to wait gave Clueless, as our token female, the opportunity to forge ahead and reach the safety of another pub where a beer stop had been organised by the Hare. The true meaning of the sign was revealed as her proficiency in handing out drinks to the assembled throng obviously meant that she was, in fact, our waitress for the evening.
After that pleasant interlude we were only left with a gentle jog back up the rather steep hill to the Swan where a roaring open fire greeted us in the snug.
Hog gained some retribution on the Hare for laying a good trail on such a potentially nasty night and for cheekily getting Helen to cough up for the beer stop, Stick was rewarded for actually making it to a beer stop, Clueless for being such an excellent waitress and Jack Tar and Helen for playing that age old game that little boys do of comparing sizes of important appendages – in this case the brightness of their torches. Well you didn’t expect them to be flashing anything else did you???
RUN 1460 – CHARLIE’S PLACE - HARROGATE
HARES: Pauline
Snow had fallen, snow on snow so that Harlow Hill resembled a Swiss ski resort. But that did not deter valiant hashers who turned up in droves – well eleven to be exact – via bus, walking, running and even by car!!
Everyone was eager to see what our resident Norwegian would pull from his bag of cunning snowcraft learned in the wilds of the Arctic Circle to mark our trail for the evening so we waited with bated breath which hung in the frozen air as we awaited his pearls of wisdom.
“Right, I didn’t have much time so the trail is laid in normal flour put where you wouldn’t normally expect to see it, so keep a good look out.” All around snow clung deeply to paths, walls, trees, bushes and houses, in fact the only areas that weren’t covered in snow were the Hashers themselves. Given that Eskimos have 50 words for snow this must be the Norwegian equivalent for white or perhaps the far north’s response to 50 Shades of Grey!!
Off we went looking for flour in a whiteout landscape – oh what bliss, oh what joy. Any clump of white stuff was eagerly scanned, sniffed and rubbed to see whether it had the consistency of snow or flour and eventually a trail of sorts sort of emerged, but not without several backward glances to make sure the Hare was coming on the same route.
We descended through Harlow Village by a circuitous route and then re-ascended via the West Park Stray and various diversions which did not materially change the Hare’s stated preference to get back to the pub as quickly as possible and which we achieved in just over 40 minutes, covering a bit over 3 miles mainly through thick snow which gave surprisingly good footing most of the way round.
After rewarding the Hare for his valiant efforts in getting out there and actually laying a trail in the adverse conditions the RA turned his attention to those who had surmounted the greatest obstacles in getting to the venue which turned out to be Nubile and Posh Pup who had proudly declared they had walked over 2 miles through thick snow ( which may have just had a slight whiff of hyperbole about it!!) and to Chief Twelve Crates for displaying that unerring American inaccuracy with friendly fire as he rained snowballs into the night sky throughout the run without managing to achieve any hits on his targets!
Where we went
RUN 1461 – THE ALEX - HARROGATE
HARES: Wet Nix and her “Stick”A town centre venue right on the pub trail. No sign of the Hare but we were reliably informed by an ever trustworthy source, Stick, that she was out there laying the trail aided by her best NHS walking stick as he spoke and it would be finished long before we caught up with her.
The rain increased to Knaresborough proportions of deluge as we set off and a strong wind blew it determinately into one’s face as we attempted to find a trail – it couldn’t be washed out already could it?
Eventually a rough agreement was hammered out as to where we might be going and a meander around the houses and supermarkets ensued before we eventually arrived back at the stray into what was by now the teeth of a gale whipping the rain across the West Park Stray where, of course, our trail would go. At this point Clueless and Posh Pup decided discretion was the better part of valour and buggered off to the pub which was only 200 m away and that was the last we saw of them!!
By this time it had become clear that stick had a more than passing acquaintance with the trail – he even knew where the flour should have been when it wasn’t there and was able to distinguish between Pauline’s markings from last week and the new trail as we headed around basically the way we had gone the week before but at least there was no snow this time round.
A gallop downhill through Harlow Village and then back up the inevitable Montpelier Hill brought us back to the pub still in the same downpour and there the true Hare, Stick, was rewarded for his subterfuge, Golden Drizzle for returning as a qualified driver, Busby for misdirection, Chief Twelve Crates for kamikaze tactics with drivers and even the GM for sartorial elegance.
Good to see Wet Nix a little later and the two for one pizza offer seemed to go down very well along with the beer
Where we went
RUN 1462 – CHEZ BUSBY AND PUSSY GALORE - HARROGATE
HARES: Pussy and Busby
A goodly turnout gathered expectantly under cover of the Hare’s garage waiting for the off. Can’t really recall any briefing as such and so off we went into the moist night air turning towards the level ground of the Stray area with audible relief from some.
Long distances between flour blobs raised suspicions that a bike may have been used to assist in laying the trail but this was firmly rebuffed by the Hare(s) and forward momentum was maintained on some long trails that led us again around the nostalgic paths, for some, around Granby School “assisted” by some back arrows before breaking out onto the Stray and some more flat and quite speedy running.
Near mutiny was heard in the ranks again as the trail wound itself further away from the venue and into the Saints area whilst all the time the secret RA, Blankety Blank, composed his list of misdemeanours safe in his cloak of anonymity.
A final blast past the Hospital and a cunning use of a ginnel wrong footed many of the pack and enabled valiant false trail checkers to storm to the front for the final long run in on what turned out to be a well laid 4+ mile trail.
Back home and with Pussy firmly ensconced on her kitchen stool stirring the cauldron we were eventually joined by our RA who had arrived late and then ran the course trying to decipher blue chalk markings on a black and wet tarmac path under yellow sodium street lighting so he had some marginal excuse for not catching us up!!
The Hares were rewarded for their endeavours and then Jack Tar for being caught out doing his normal SCB tricks, Hog for a late arrival, Peak Practice for moaning about the length of this and every trail laid by Pussy and Busby and for trying to beat the GM in a sprint finish and for various other crimes too numerous to mention, Busby for talking in the circle, Blind Pew for being Blind Pew, Clueless for being average, which occasioned much merriment and then finally Pussy for a really good snitching session shopping not only Peak Practice and Sprinkler but her own hubbie for talking – excellent work!!!
Very enjoyable chilli followed courtesy of Pussy and her stool complete with accessories and dessert to follow rounding off a very enjoyable evening. Many thanks to our Hares and chef.
Where we went -
Well it’s Wetherby, the Hare is Helen, I’d better get myself off to the venue as he won’t be there to wave us off.
Well the answer is obviously beer, and the Hare was duly rewarded for his excellent efforts, Egghead for finding us again after 12 years and for running so well, I’m Coming for continuing her kamikaze attacks upon the GM and missing, Golden Showers for being average, the GM for failing to run all the way back to some particularly laggard back markers, who felt so miffed by this snub that they are immediately departing to Oz for six weeks, and finally to the RA to celebrate an average birthday J!
Where we went - ???
RUN 1463 – THE ROYAL OAK - WETHERBY
HARES: HelenWell it’s Wetherby, the Hare is Helen, I’d better get myself off to the venue as he won’t be there to wave us off.
So, unusually for me I arrive with plenty of time to spare, and inside the pub we are treated to the contents of Rocky’s haversack as he attempts to solve the dimness of Golden Shower’s torch. Iron rations, spoon, razor, repair kit all tumble out before a multitude of batteries some of which do the precise job and restore said torch to usefulness. Just as well as no doubt it will be needed on a Helen trail!!
We are then joined by another long time absentee, Egghead, daughter of the Hare, and missing on Hashes for about 12 years during which time she has grown up, received an university education, got a job but didn’t think that a torch would be necessary on a run starting at 7pm, having a touching filial faith in her father’s ability to lay a trail where a torch would not be needed – a faith not exactly supported by the largish group who had previous experience of the Hare’s trails.
Off we went into a cold, crisp evening without a clue as to where we may be headed and proceeded to encompass much of Wetherby in a fairly strenuous 6+ mile run made notable by the length of back arrows and long stretches of nicely gravelled off-road footpaths which made a pleasant change to run on. We eventually stumbled upon the Hare kindly re-marking the trail so that we would miss the worst bit of a particularly shiggy part of countryside under the new A1 – very kind of him.
That feeling of gratitude was slowly extinguished as the trail wound in an ever wider loop around the town giving us a tantalising glimpse of the town centre before wending its way off onto the west side of town and Spofforth Hill before eventually finding its way back to the pub. On the way the diminutive Wetherby Cinema was found glowing in the dark and its forthcoming attractions scanned as a usefully placed regroup gave one the opportunity to scan the adverts. Culture and running – what more could one ask for?Well the answer is obviously beer, and the Hare was duly rewarded for his excellent efforts, Egghead for finding us again after 12 years and for running so well, I’m Coming for continuing her kamikaze attacks upon the GM and missing, Golden Showers for being average, the GM for failing to run all the way back to some particularly laggard back markers, who felt so miffed by this snub that they are immediately departing to Oz for six weeks, and finally to the RA to celebrate an average birthday J!
Where we went –
RUN 1466 – DROPPING WELL INN - KNARESBOROUGH
HARES: Buggerall
The return of the kilted crusader from Catterick to lay a trail on foreign territory but, on arrival, l discovered that the kilt was no more – the pressure of alleged global climate change had driven our gallant into normal winter running gear for the evening as temperatures again plunged as the night progressed.
The usual mis-briefing by the Hare followed, something about trails always being on the right hand side of the road, crosses where he had got lost(!!!!!!), fish hooks, ran 8 miles laying the trail and therefore it would be about 4 miles long etc and off we went charging into the night. One thing about this venue – one is pretty much guaranteed an uphill route at some stage and so it proved with an ascent of the north face of the gorge in fairly short order. It was also soon clear that another thing the Hare had omitted from his briefing was that there were no markings of false trails which would prove of interest later on, but in the meantime it led to lots of cautious (ie slow!!) probes of potential trails by some.
Another item omitted from the briefing again became clear – there were no regroups. Again not a bad thing on a cold evening, no hanging around on street corners waiting for catch ups, but as the trail unfolded and the true enormity of distances to be covered became clear to everyone, thanks were given that the usual dissidents were not in attendance otherwise a very fractured pack could have emerged!!
Ways were found to circumnavigate the outer limits of Knaresborough that even the locals had not seen before and one spectacular fish hook gave rise to possibly the longest back arrow known to the Hash as yours truly ran 0.4 miles back to the last pair who were happily engaged in polite conversation and walking ever further away from the trail – you know who I mean - Stick and Anne Berlin.
Opportunities arose and were spurned to turn back to the pub but on we sped into the night at one stage thinking the Hare knew that Jack Tar and Clueless were at home and the familiar watering hole of their garage was on the agenda, but no we sped on by. The local running club was met and passed but not before they tried to pass themselves off as “the drinking club with a running problem” but they were very firmly put in their place by Buggerall and we reclaimed that title before a further loop took us even further away from the homeward stretch. By this time a breakaway group had formed who were sensibly taking themselves off to the pub whilst the remainder found new and interesting ways to prolong the excursion.
Finally the pub hove in sight complete with a sighting of Wet Nix who had bravely walked out along the last portion of the trail to meet us. A total distance ran of 7.85 miles showed the “value” of not having false trails marked and the Hare was duly rewarded for his generosity, Wet Nix and Stick for mobile non communications, Chief Twelve Crates for a Fleetwood Mack soundtrack reunion moment and Sprinkler for being average!!!