Scribes 2015

We all arrived bright and breezy after our festivities- only to be shot down on cold blood by a miniature Storm Trooper- who everyone knows are Servants of a fictional Empire. Still it made for an interesting start- well - better than the unusual.

We then had to have a Horrible History.

UK's first professional police force was founded on Run number 1748.This force, originally numbering only a dozen individuals was called the Bow Street Runners. They would follow the evidence trial to catch their criminals. They were therefore the UK's first hash house harriers. The Bow Street runners was the public's nickname for these officers - although the officers never referred to themselves as Runners, considering the term to be derogatory. So when discussing Run Number 1748 with fellow hashers don't forget to mention The Bow Street runners - UK's first hash pack!

Sauerkraut was introduced as a visitor- his Mum runs in Bangkok! She must be a game old bird as he is no spring chicken.

Aids then gave us a lecture on the evils of Facebook. Sad bastard as he can’t get to grips with 21st century life.

The hare was Golden Shower. We then proceeded on an uneventful run- with a picturesque sweetie stop which we all missed- and Sherlock tripping us up every five minutes.

Until we entered the Badlands of the Crematorium Gardens of Remembrance. Wreaths and flowers where spread everywhere and us girlies were quiet and respectful as we realised we were on an ASH run – not a HASH run- oh me.

Sergio cheered us up though as he carried the beer back from the check in a black bin bag and with his jolly Christmas hat he looked just like Santa.

Down Downs

• Mad Cyclist for saying ‘Mush’ instead of OnOn

• Pig Iron (who was in charge of the walkie talkies) for complaining that the Run appeared to be very short on the map he was given by the hare. Hashers have the right to complain but Pig Iron himself only walked a few hundred yards to the beer stop! – And then had the cheek to complain that the beer was well hidden and difficult to find.(He later said he walked by a roundabout route and was slightly more than a few hundred yards).

• The entire Hash Committee had a group down-down, bravely taken by the GM, Golden Shower, for valuing beer more than flour! The AH3 committee only pays for beer expenses and not for the flour expenses submitted by the hare.

Strange Christmas presents: -

• Golden Shower got a Bee House- he’s got a lot to learn if he doesn’t even know that it’s a HIVE not a house- does he know bees also sting?

• Ballerina got an extra shower as the stilton and broccoli soup fell out of the fridge all over him. He was joined in the Circle by young Callum- and were named the ‘Stilton Brothers’

• Aids confessed that he once bought Cinders a hedge trimmer for Christmas- that she never used. I'm with you their Cinders- let him keep busy and happy with a simple hedge trimmer- he could be using his chopper for so many other things.

Future Events

New Year’s Eve party at Mrs T’s and Hippos- all welcome.

Mid-January- Mrs T and Hippo are going to Strawberry Cottage and would welcome company

On Inn: - High Maintenance and Muff Diver- who was somewhat better- and nursing a very masculine black fleecy hot water bottle. His Mum and Dad were there to lend a hand and no sooner was an empty plate but down than it was whisked way and washed up- what a team!!

Hello all

This is my first Scribe and sure it will not be my last one unless I make a pig’s ear of this one!

"Scribe report for:

Sunday 20th December

ONON Scolty Hill Banchory,

Hares Sir Deadmund Hillary and His Lazy Bastard Son LBS”

It was a very Baltic, fresh, overcast day, and we were all wanting to burn some calories off to make room for stuffing ourselves with Turkey and lots and lots of drink!!

The circle was formed and all of a sudden we went back in time to a very gruesome period ,"The Year of 1747", History story acted out by T-Rex Cock (the executioner) and Willy Wotzoff (the prisoner)

This is a horrible history lesson. The Jacobite rising from a couple of runs ago ended on this run when Simon Fraser was executed. Simon Fraser – otherwise known as Lord Lovat – retreated to his castle after the defeat at the Battle of Culloden. This was burnt by the Royal Army and every stone was torn down so it couldn’t be re-inhabited. This extensive wine store was looted and large quantities of oatmeal and salmon were taken. He was arrested, taken to London and sentenced to death. Shortly before the execution, a viewing galley for spectators collapsed killing 20. Apparently Lovat found this highly amusing and was laughing about the spectacle as the executioners axe fell. It is said this event was the origin of the saying "laughing your head off".

Just before putting his head on the block he shouted “Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori” – meaning “It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country”. Simon Fraser was the last person to be executed by beheading in the UK. So when discussing Run number 1747 with your friends remember to mention the last UK beheading.

After the History lesson the Pack headed off to find the trail of flour, starting through the woods we came to a check. The pack got split up all racing up the hill in different directions until we came to a clearing, some hashers would just appear out the woods from nowhere as though they had been up to no good.

The pack then got back together to find that we had a very steep hill to climb, most of us were huffing and puffing trying to climb what felt like Mount Everest, I thought I was fit maybe not!

We all finally reached the top of the Hill which was well worth it for the great view of the surrounding town Banchory and Mountains.

We all then made our way back to the bottom of the hill to the sweetie stop.

After the pack got a sugar rush we then started to follow the trail into the Christmas tree woods, it was very flooded with big pools of cold water luckily no one went skinny dipping!.

We all then came to the beer stop which was a well-earned rest.After that we headed off back to the car park and formed a circle.

DOWN DOWN’S went to-

• Barbarella got awarded a jumper for completing 200 Runs, he proceeded to put his jumper on inside out and was slagged off for never running through the finish line at the Hazelhead Park runs,

• Lazy Bastard Son (LBS) grassed up his friend Sam for sending sexy texts to his mum instead of his girlfriend,

• Sir Deadmund Hillary was looking for his axe to carry out the Year of 1747,

• LBS and Sam for not letting people know at the start that four spots and you’re on, that one caught me out on the run!

• LBS, Sir Deadmund Hillary and Sam for being the Hares,

• Numbskull, JC, Fifi, Mrs T and Dimples for sitting down at the circle,

• Sir Deadmund Hillary, Willy Wotzoff and T-Rex Cock for acting out the History Lesson,

• And finally Wotzoff for telling a random story about a Penis Rubber (Don’t ask)

After a great run and a few down downs we headed back to OnInn which was Glasgow’s place in Cults, where we enjoyed a great feast with plenty of pulled Pork in a bun with apple sauce, Soup for the Veggie folk, Tea/ Coffee and Drink!

Thank you hares for a great run and a fantastic location and Glasgow for a great feast.

OnOn Underlay

CVRSVS MDCCIVL

&

DONMOVTH SANTA HVNT

LEPVS : BOGBRVSH

A bright chilly morning, ideal for aimlessly lurking about after the initial circle. I had been gifted the horn, for no particular reason, as is customary.

But before beginning to run we had been instructed to lurk about wearing assorted items of Xmas tat, so we could be filmed pursuing a Santa along the beach (no rationale was offered, or required). Santa was on the beach, but no film crew.

So we waited, taking full advantage of the invigorating icy blast off the North Sea, the engineers and technologists amongst our number (Tonto prominent among them) intellectually amused themselves by hurling logs of waterlogged driftwood into the Don to see if they would float. Most didn’t.

At last a film crew arrived, and we were instructed to line up behind Santa, and pursue him toward the camera. Santa was a black man with a black beard, and a white Santa beard affixed thereon.

At the agreed signal, Santa set off and the Hash shambled after, to Hash amazement Santa bolted like Usain – and none could catch him!

As is the way with filming, we had to do it again. But as the Hash regrouped Santa was observed in the dunes, bent over, profusely vomiting. As he continued to energetically vomit some of the Hash gathered around him, sympathetically filming him with their phones.

At length he recovered and we ran again, and this time some managed to overtake him. After which an impromptu Father Abraham, led by Little Shit, was performed for the camera, without a doubt the most disorganised, chaotic and inept Father Abraham I have ever seen - I do not exempt myself from this judgement. (Eveready, as always, ever ready to cavort publicly, was prominent in the melee)

And then, at last, the run began.

We followed a pleasantly traditional route along the South side of the Don, through Seaton Park, past the Wallace Tower- but then, a break from precedent, the trail led into the dark heart of Tillydrone; groups of young males, ceasing their traditional rituals of aggressive posturing at each other, gazed at the passing Hash. Some almost swallowing their spliffs in astonishment, others offered, presumably, friendly advice and encouraging exhortations. Probably fortunately the arcane dialect in use was only intelligible to the more local of the Hash.

After ‘Tilly’ the trail re-crossed the river and ventured into a boring mass of housing built on the former Crombie Mill site (will another local industry soon follow wool into oblivion and allow Stewartie Milne to build indiscriminately across desolate swathes of Dyce, Westhill and Altens? ) Back to the river, but then, this is where your scribe parted from the pack.

Together with Hippo I was lured toward the new Don crossing, it then became apparent that the trail had crossed the Don again. ‘Never go back!’ is Hippo’s mantra , and I wanted to look closely at the new bridge, indeed we both thought of crossing it, but it was too well fenced, so we bottled out. As the sounds of the Hash on the far bank faded the fencing forced us further and further from our intended route. After a few unnecessary miles we returned to the On On, before the pack, no beer! Hash Beer not back!

I had to go back along the river to get a beer!

The circle went well, not overly protracted. There were various down downs, visitors, new runner, etc, none of which I paid the slightest attention to.

Then to the Hare’s parental abode for ample nosh. The Hare’s only directions to the location was, ‘It’s about a mile away’ which was slightly insufficient even for such an accomplished navigator as Struth (who was chauffeuring me), but we got there eventually, and there truly was ample excellent food.

WOTZOFF

SCRAN scribe sheet

The morning after the 2015 Hash party started with a hangover and very excited son about collecting the Christmas tree. No a good morning to be leaving dressed as Santa so preparation was somewhat secretive to attend the Santa Claus Ran and Nosh event.

Arriving at the ON INN following the mandatory pit stop which coincided with meeting the hares I feared that we were in for a shopping trail rather than a review of the less salubrious areas of town. My fears we compounded when we reached the ON INN and it was locked so it seemed we would need to run with our luggage well that would slow the visitors down! Luckily at about 5 mins to the hour the fortress opened and we were able to avoid carrying our bags round we certainly would have needed Santa’s sleigh to transport the EH3 and GH3 teams baggage collection. The thin crowd soon swelled as the little hand moved to twelve at which point Aids called order.

I don’t recall any Pre-run down-down awarded, but for some reason I was awarded scribe must be a punishment? We were then treated to an exciting street performance of the Jacobite rebellion orated by Ballerina and the eventual banishment of bonny prince cockatoo.

T Rex Cock admirably led us the verses of the Duke Cumberland and provided a series of props this aroused great interest among the civilian spectators. Tonto decided to renounce his Anglo Saxon breeding and joined with Jacobite’s or was he a spy. Despite it being about 3C and sunny it was somewhat nippy even in Santa and elf outfits. Cockatool needed little persuading his clothes and run dressed only in kilt and shoes the rest of us donned traditional dress.

At last the script ended and we set off for a 100m dash to Robert the Bruce statue for the photo moment luckily no hasher fell beneath the 20th century carriage wheels and after a considerable period we were off following a collection of flower and chalk the trail led us through the busy kings street and up the castle to shed where we came across an S & M stop.

The discarded mattress seemed an ideal opportunity for a bit of hard sex but no this quickly was turned into an impromptu trampoline. Cockatool not be outdone, climbed into a shopping trolley and was nearly lost over the castle wall to the thundering traffic below. At least we exercised self-restraint at that moment, the S & M arrived in the shape of Sharnie who revealed Sherry and mince pies, an excellent top up after last night. So much self-restraint was evident today that no one pushed him over the edge.

The fragmented pack set off again and the trail led us through the harbour past some interesting drinking establishments and on for a loop of the streets of Fittee then for a quick hop over the sea wall to the beach promenade.

Plenty of spectators on this bit and although inviting no one decided on a dip. The trail dipped in land and followed the steps up to Broad hill to a well-stocked beer and sweetie stop. It also provided a useful watering point for a few weak bladders. Cockatool now was turning a shade of blue and requested a shot of the scribes vest. On the grounds of health and safety this request was acceded to but only while we were stationary taking the air and watching the surfing.

Interestingly about 600 other Santa’s missed the beer stop instead herding in the shade of Pittodrie, good job as I doubt if Sharnie’s budget would have stretched to that accommodation.

The very spread out kennel now moved off avoiding the collection of wannabee Santa hashers instead opting for the spectacular Gallow Hill and off to Mounthooly roundabout. The underpass subway network seemed to confuse a good contingent and even more failed to reach south Mount Street.

The trail led into new territory in the form of town garden at the back of small flat complete with a locked shed. The pack howled at smelling the booze out of throats reach all attempts to locate a key were fruitless and panic quickly set in. Luckily Sharnie again, saved the day producing the key to open the entrance. She was nearly trampled in the haste to remove the well-stocked bothy.

The treasured liquids were hastily dispensed, the Gluvein particularly well fought over. It was clear a large section of the pack was missing, a hash mother now grew increasingly concerned on the whereabouts of her offspring. Seaton is not a good area to be lost in, maybe they got mixed up with the masquerade hash Santa’s. The search party further depleted the pack waiting for a circle, at this point Aids realising that we better convene a circle while he still had an audience called us to account.

Down-downs were awarded to the following:

• Shit Boyfriend - ASBO and collecting the wrath of the community busybodies

• Cockatool- Half naked run in the cold yes he was blue at some points

• Eveready- Gymnastic body rhythm’s

• The Penquin- Physic ability to predict the trail

• Barbarella & Smurth – Best Hash outfits at least he was warm enough bit of a bugger when you need a pee though.

• Tonto- Traitor to his kin

There would have been more but most of the pack was away so their crimes no doubt will be held over and punishments allocated in following weeks. The final rally down-down going to the hare. Great run and bloody good effort considering a reported 6 am start. He confessed that he never slept at all. I don’t recall Sharnie getting a well-deserved down-down, but she certainly saved the day in at least three separate locations.

The pack finally departed to the On Inn Illicit still now open, where the drink of choice seemed to be coffee I don’t think that this was due to crap beer or abstinence after the previous night could be the need to get the body core warm again. There was a shortage of seats but this seemed to be resolved by hot seating as visits to the bar and toilets was undertaken.

Fortunately our luggage was safely stored and recovered by the helpful bar staff it’s good to be welcome in an establishment by all accounts the food and drink was well enjoyed. Sadly my time was up and I left before more stories could be told of the afternoon.

The End

Twizzel

Drama before the run had even begun! Our very own GM, Golden Shower, was in the bad books for putting his order in late for the Christmas meal! Would he, our Lord and Saviour, be permitted to join us at this most prestigious event? We’ll have to find out on Saturday if he’ll be attending as our GM, or as a member of the cleaning staff at Hazelhead – oh shit!

OnOn! bellowed the pack as they careered in the direction which the Hare had forced them to go…”Oh, lost trail already” exclaimed a rather perplexed Toy-Boy-Tom who had graciously thrust himself to the front of the pack to assert his unquestioned status as the ultimate FRB! Myself and Toy-Boy-Tom thought we had the better of everybody when we pranced like lions on morphine at the front of the pack. Then, oh shit, a check!

After much searching, Hippo (a most esteemed hasher if ever there was one) frolicked gracefully to the front of the pack – we wouldn’t see him again until the beer stop: well played, Hippo.

OnOn! And off we went for another mystic jolt through this fine geographical location (the name of which escapes me: Hagen Daz?) Oh, f*ck, another check – and this one would force us to take drastic action; we had to ask the Hare where the bloody hell we were going!

Eventually, after successfully navigating several barbed wire fences; hearing Eveready speak some gobbledegook about birds; engaging in deep philosophical discussions with Sir Deadmund Hillary about issues in quantum mechanics; some Hashers (i.e. me) nearly falling into a river which would have consummated by existential phenomenology of the world quite nicely by subjecting me to a permanent watery grave of nothingness; observing several devious hashers (e.g. Pissonya, High Maintenance, Sir Deadmund Hillary) short cutting the trail: we made it to the beer stop!

Returning to the car park, the fair maiden Pissonya (or as I shall now call her: Silly C*nt) thought it would be quite jovial to twat her poor lover, the sexual demon Cheesy Cox (me) with a stinging electric shock with her fingers whilst he was engaging in a somewhat intriguing discussion with the blue monkey, Smurf. Pissonya’s act of cunning resulted in horror as, in a state of profound shock, I quickly put both my elbows behind me like a horny chicken and smashed her nose into a thousand year of pain, misery and nosebleeds. It was an accident, promise.

So, to the circle; and the beautiful AIDS and Cheesy Cox (now regarded as a woman beater amongst the jolly hashers) conducted the circle. The charges were:

(1)Barbarella (and one other whom I forgot) for chatting so much on the run that they failed to adhere to Cheesy Cox’s cries of “THE BEER’S HERE, YOU BASTARDS!”

(2)Barbaella (again) for gracing his head with a hat that made him resemble “Where’s Wally?”

(3)Cheesy Cox – for, wrongfully, being called a woman beater

(4)Shit Boyfriend – missing last week’s run because he tried Jagerbombs for the first time: I was 17 when I had my first, I think this is a sign of a late mid-life crisis!

(5)Leeky Willy – Being a slow driver and making it late to the run

(6)Short and Thick (or whatever the bloody hell his name is) for giving poor Cheesy Cox a nightmare in trying to remember his name. Was it “Thick and Ready”? Was it “Long and Thin”? Was it “The guy who speaks Latin”? No. No it was not. I have now decided, after he called me “Cheesy Dick” “Parmesan Penis” “Gorgonzola Dick”, amongst other things, that I shall now call him “Stumpy Thumper” +1 for Cheesy.

(7)Ballerina for growing a moustache for Movember – he raised £55 and shaved it all off in the circle: good job, Ballet!

(8)Muff Diver and Bog Brush for bad planning: Bog’s run is in a few weeks and is at the same location as Tonto’s run in February: Head Hare, Muff Diver, has made Bog Brush change his run site – good luck with that one!

(9)AIDS, Drillbit, Little Shit, Sharnie, Hippo, One Liner: the old bastards! I had found a photograph of AH3 from 1995 – they all had beautiful locks and mullets; oh, how the elderly age!

Good run, good fun, ok company and a bloody good On-Inn (except for High Maintenance’s steak pie!)

OnOn

Cheesy Cox

The Full Moon Hash was a success!We saw the moon in all its fullness.But we had to track it down by following a cunning trail.

Imagine the scene.Arriving in the dark at Countesswells car park, seeing lights at the far end of the car park, were they from doggers or Hashers? Most there wore intensely bright head-torches making their faces impossible to see.Fear overcome, they were Hashers!

Sir Deadmund Hillary informed us that in 1743 the wolves became extinct in Great Britain, so if anything brushed past us on the trail, it wouldn’t be a wolf. Spooky!

Co-Hare Smurf handed out light collars to help brighten things up, and we set off.

“Up the main path”, the Hares cried. The trail to the Full Moon was indeed cunning. In fact so cunning that Hares also had difficulty finding the trail. “We laid the trail this afternoon but it looks so different now in the darkness”, co-Hare Roger Me More explained.

Found it was, and we set off through the darkness of the forest, the head-torches making spooky shadows, one wailing apparition bearing a worrying resemblance to Sir Deadmund Hillary.

It wasn’t long before Pissonya exclaimed “I'm sooo scared!” and for Cheesy Cox to trip over in the mud – the evening’s only faller.

Then out of the darkness came some four legged creatures, eyes shining bright. If not wolves, what devilish animals would be out at this time of night? Doggies!

We hurried on. At the edge of the dark forest, we arrived at the Sweetie stop, looking west overlooking the twinkling lights of the countryside. But where was the Full Moon?

Behind us, partly obscured by those towering dark trees.So off we set again on the trail to the Full Moon.And, at last, heading east through the area of felled trees, we ran through the soft, pale light of the Full Moon, shining clearly above us.

Some say the November Full Moon is associated with beavers. To me, it looked like that old familiar round block of matured stilton.

Finding the Beer Stop was as difficult, for the pack and the Hares, as finding the start of the trail had been! However, the beer, when found, tasted all the better for all that extra anticipation.

After a while, the GM called the Circle together. Down-downs were awarded to:

• Cheesy Cox for having had his 21st birthday.

• Willy Wotzoff for having his birthday today.

• Muff Diver for having knackered legs and a knackered car.

• Eveready for singing “3 wheels on my wagon”: appropriate for Muff Diver.

• Underlay for having lost his light collar.

• Struth, who arrived after the run had started, for having sat all expectantly in the car park, enticing music playing, only for 3 cars, presumably looking for a good time, to have driven up and quickly driven away!

And the Hares for a good trail to the Full Moon!

On!On!

Toy Boy Tom

Check Back!!!! And that was even before arriving at the run site! South Deeside road close, poorly signed, race back to North Deeside road. (No racing on the hash!)

Arrived at the snow covered run site just as the pack was heading off up the trail. Pissonya was waiting for others caught out by the back check on South Deeside Road.

The stragglers ran along the out trail and immediately ran into the front of the pack returning from a check back.

Up the bank into the pine forest, picking out way between trees looking for flour and lentils.

Has anyone seen any flour??? We stumble on through the forest and down back onto the out trail about 20 meters from where we left it.

Off we trot down a wynding path through open country. The pack is not a pack but a long piece of string. A check pulls the pack back together again and allows High Maintenance and Muff Diver to catch up after the pre-run site check.

Back into the forest, on up through the rough, even Smurf was finding it hard to follow the trail. On to another check then out of the trees and up to a band of walkers defending a hill top stone circle and their stash of sweeties! Fine views of the countryside draped in a thin covering of snow.

“Don't go that way it's horrendous!! Pissonya advised. So which way does the trail go? “Oh, the horrendous way! Off we ran along the horrendous trail while Pissonya “guided the walker along a safe route”

Back into the trees and picking a trail through the undergrowth. “It's a bit slippery here” says Smurf as she slips and slithers down a wet, peaty, muddy layer of sludge masquerading as a trail.

We come out onto a forest track and there was Pissonya looking very pleased with herself having missed the horrendous part. On to a check.

Sergio heads of over a barbed wire fence. “I know this area; this is where I set my run.”

Pissonya continues down the track to the left. “I’m not going down there, it's more horrendous than the last bit!”

Sergio leads us through the undergrowth and are soon descending the muddy side of a deep ravine. Miraculously there were no uncontrolled descents! Up the other side and out onto a road; and a large arrow pointing in the direction we had come from.

Must be a mistake, the hare can't possibly be correct, must have laid the arrow pointing in the wrong direction. The much depleted pack runs up the road. Prickly Bush overshoots the turn back into the forest. Instead of back tacking 10 meters Prickly Bush takes a direct line to the trail in the forest: through a hedge, a couple of prickly bushes and a barbed wire fence. Much to the amusement of Ballerina and myself. Good short cut Prickly!

Back down into the ravine, out again and complete the backwards loop and off down the trail to the beer check.

The refreshed pack ambled back to the run site. Just after returning to the run site Struth and Cheesy Cox run down the in trail shouting jubilantly as if they had just been lost in the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights. They too having been caught by the pre-run back check back.

Form a circle!

• Aids charges GM with dereliction of duty for arriving late. Following a check back was not accepted as an excuse. Others guilty of being late were also changed, including co-drivers and back seat drivers: Dimples, Muff Diver, High Maintenance, Bruce Almighty, Struth and Cheesy Cox

• Bruce Almighty charged Roger Me More (in absentia) and Smurf for initially getting the date wrong for the Full Moon Hash choosing the date of the new moon instead of the full moon.

• Struth was questioned about running off with Cheesy Cox today and Shite Boyfriend at MH4 the day before. And could this explain why Struth was being awarded with a Sex, Sex, Sex award sweatshirt? Well done Struth on 666 runs!

• Muff Diver was charged with complaining to Aberdeen council for the poor signposting of the south Road closure and the vicious speed bump at the carpark entrance a week earlier.

• Appointed to be Community Liaison Officer.

• The Hares, Pissonya and Smurf for setting the run numerous times as each snow shower covered their earlier markings! Good trail Harriettes! Nice to have a shorter run for a change too!

OnOn Golden Shower

Hi,

Here is the scribe report, my first time writing one so sorry if it's a little rubbish! :)

"Scribe report for Sunday 15th November – walkers’ route.

We assembled on a rainy Sunday morning on Brimmond Hill, some of us trying to seek shelter under Fireflaps’ umbrella before we set off. I was appointed Scribe for the walkers’ route. Pre-run down down went to Thrupenny Bits for her recent operations on both hips.

Due to my apparent inability to follow flour, I tried to stick with the main pack of the walkers at the start to avoid getting lost but still managed to venture down the wrong path having followed people instead of flour (rookie mistake).

Despite the persistent drizzle, the route was beautiful and the walkers route gave me the opportunity to appreciate the surroundings a little more than when I’m running and focusing on not getting lost (recurring theme here).

Despite the fact that it had rained most of the night, the route was very walkable. We crossed over with the runners nearer the top of the hill, with some of them taking the same path as us. Numbskull decided to hash with Fireflaps’ umbrella, which I hid under for a stretch of the walk before he went for a run to try to get to the beer stop faster, and before I reached muddy hills which Thruppeny Bits kindly lent me a stick to help me walk down – I hurt my knee at the Illuminator Run the night before so was even worse at terrain than usual.

The rain didn’t ease off at all during the run, but the run and walk were a good length to stop us from getting completely soaked and the chat with the walkie talkies certainly helped!

We met some of the runners again when we hit tarmac towards the end of the run en route to the beer stop where we met some civilians who enquired about whether there was an “event” and whether we had now finished so that they could park in the same car park. After telling them it was a weekly event and that they could most definitely park with us providing they could find a space, I went back to the Hash Beer’s car to avoid going up the hill to the beer stop.

Most runners had started to come back shortly after that and we had a brief circle in the car park.

Some of the down downs went to Numbskull and Fireflaps for Numbskull hashing with an umbrella, and for it being Fireflaps’ umbrella,

Me, Cockatool and Smurf for the Illuminator Run the night before,

Smurf for driving into someone’s private property grounds and car park instead of the car park where we assembled,

AIDS for following white flour instead of blue flour on the run that he set after he instructed us to follow blue flour,

And eventually Struth for having new shoes.

A few of us went to the On Inn Four Mile Inn for lunch and a chat before heading off home to dry off from the weather.

Thank you hares for a lovely run in a great location J

Pissonya

The run was introduced by our esteemed GM. Aids awarded the pre-run down-down to Smurf on the basis that some hair of the dog would be beneficial to her hangover. Sir Deadmund Hillary explained that naff-all happened in 1740.

I lost concentration and did not spot the GM sneaking up to me with the scribe shire and horn until it was too late to take evasive action.

We ran round and round Tyrebagger woods for just over an hour. Basically the run went up, down, round trees, through puddles and mud etc. etc. There was lots of flour (hurray) and checks, plus well-provisioned sweety stop and beer stop. No-one got lost or damaged and the natives seemed friendly enough.

We arrived back at the cars to find them covered in a layer of Larch pine needles. Rumour has it that next week’s run from Brimmond hill car park will be strangely similar given the proximity of the on-ons …….watch this space.

Aids the RA (Religious Advisor) awarded Down-downs to:-

• Mrs T – for doing strange, exotic exercises in bed every morning for half an hour before getting up.(I thought everyone did that….)

• Numbskull – for being so old he is held together with safety pins – we saw the evidence. Tonto displayed similar problems but got away with it.

• Fifi – for very poor knot tying. While she and JC were on holiday the sheep managed to untie the knots securing the polytunnel door and cleared the tunnel of the whole winter crop being grown inside. The sheep apparently looked very ‘guilty’ when apprehended. We would like to see the photos.

• Bin Liner – for being unable to cope with his new hi-tec shoe laces. All other hashers with hi-tec laces were volunteered to have a down-down in sympathy with him.

• Brian -for being a new runner. He was temporarily labelled ‘Wandering Weegie’ until he can be allocated a permanent hash handle.

The Hares – for a good run, well-marked run that kept the pack together.

Charges from the circle: -

• Ballerina charged the GM with information overload due to an e-mail sent out detailing the problem of sheep ticks and Lyme’s disease. To make this more easy for the hash to understand, a short re-enactment of a tick inspection – starring Barberella as the man with the huge tick (I said TICK) – was played out. Don’t give up the day job guys…..

• Barberella charged Numbskull for failing an intelligence test (duh!?)

• The GM charged Bruce Almighty for a failed assassination attempt on the Mearns Hash. His evil plan went haywire when his rocket launcher fell sideways and, being unable to run faster than said rocket, he ended up getting hit in the derriere himself.

Mrs T.

ITS finally here!

Run 1739 – Torphins ( but not according to Eveready who went to Ellon ! )

Several months after the run, I decided, after much prompting from Muff Diver, nothing better to do now he’s crook and cant chase High Maintenance around the bedroom !

My memory has faded slightly but I did make notes. I know I was late to the run , I did advise the GM that I would be late as I had taxi duties in town first and not wanting to be in dereliction of duties of hash beer, I promised to attend.

I didn’t realise that this would result in being scribe. Or did I volunteer!

So no idea what happened at the start and also no recollection of the rest of it as my notes don’t really tell me much.

Let’s see what you think!

I remember it was a good run set by Struth and Cheesy Cox although Cheesy Cox had no idea where the run went!

Also Cockatool has forgotten how to hash in Aberdeen and didn’t realise that a B was in fact a beer stop and not a back check! Silly boy!

On on

Ballerina

RUN 1738St Crispin's Persley Gardens and Don River Walk

Hares: One Liner (AKA Lying Bastard) and Barbarella (AKA Repeat Offender)

Scribe: Pigiron (AKA Vulnerable Citizen)

We few, we happy few, dutifully gathered at the appointed place surrounded by reminders of our mortality close to the dark acres of Danestone, lair of such legendary figures as Harley, Joy Boy, The Body et al. Or to put it another way, the same old, same old.

A mere 600 years have passed since the crapauds were given a slapping at Agincourt, but does our revered Lord GM care-or know? No, instead, when given the traditional two-finger archers' salute by a venerable hasher, he promptly awards the job of leading (huh!) and writing up the run to one who will take every care not to go anywhere near the trail. Only the first of many insults to be suffered this day. You only have yourselves to blame for this drivel.

The pre-run circle was taken up with much merriment surrounding the fact that Cheesy Cock arrived wearing most of Pissonya's wardrobe, completed by a fetching pair of rubber shower sandals, which he ran in -a quick route to trimalleolar fracture. He got a down, but won't learn. Fresh meat was led into the circle in the form of Karen, who used to be in Edinburgh and has now seen the light, and Ian who lives in a place called Banchory. He does, however, work at Tesco's. At last, a useful hasher.

One Liner set the alleged runners off on their merry way, providing the walkers with a map representing the greatest work of fiction since the French marriage vows. Very wisely the cripples ignored most of his suggested route and just wandered about mumbling as per usual. This resulted in their missing the beerstop, situated on the wrong side of unbreachable moat deep in the swamps, but if we had used the map we would have been on the evening news. Possessed of heavenly guidance, teacher's pets and beastly swots Pink Panther and Dimples actually found the stop but there are always a few smug rotten apples.

The circle touched the very nadir of post-trail entertainment being mainly composed of a mumbled litany of improbable off-hash stories concerning a few serial drunks.

Little Shit started off in typical fashion with a long story about Numbskull locking his keys and money in the penthouse suite while on the IndoNostalgia Hash on Gozo (nothing to do with Muppets). Apparently the services of Spiderman to scale the building were not required when Numbskull finally remembered the rattling lump in his pocket.

Cheesy Cock then went off into a long story which I couldn't follow, being old and stupid. Sergio got a down for offering Cheesy a fresh pair of underpants harvested from a puddle.

Bogbrush seems to run too fast for the RA's liking. Scraping the bottom of the barrel, Olymprick got a down for having new shoes. A likely tale.

One Liner was brought to book for his mendacious mis-use of cartography and being a lawyer. He was joined in a BOGOF award by Barbarella, accused by Ballerina of setting the same trail twice within one calendar year. He completed the train wreck by crawlingly presenting Cheesy with a free poster from the Sunday Times (oo-er) detailing the history of the universe to use as a visual aid at his next drone-in.

And gentlemen in Glen Tilt now-a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That wasted Saint Crispin's day.

FINIS

Waking up fairly early I realised it was a Sunday and Sunday is a Hashing day. Alas I thought back to the night before and wondered where I had been, who with and what had happened. I then realised my beloved WALES had been edged out of the Rugby World Cup by those guys from South Africa in the last few minutes of a fascinating game.We were leading the Boks with a mere 4 minutes to go and victory was stolen in a flash.Perhaps I won’t go Hashing after all….my Country is in mourning and I should really stay home and be miserable, fed up and do nothing all day.But then I thought, come on Leeky be proud of your Team, we had beaten ENGLAND after all in their own back Garden and Ireland and Scotland were playing today so off I went to the Hash!

On driving along the south Deeside road I decided to call the Hare Bruce Almighty who gave me a perfect description of how to get to the run site. Bruce however was not going to be there at the start, he was still laying trail!

After parking at 11.02am I rummaged in my van for some Hash gear and approached the already addressed circle only to be rugby tackled by Golden Shower with the Hash scribe vest, horn and notebook.So off we ran in the direction of a big Flour arrow which is the only clue as Bruce was STILL LAYING TRAIL!

First 5 minutes we were all lost, obviously Bruce was saving his flour for later on the trail as we all scratched our heads and ran back and for looking ages in search of a trail. Lovely forest scenery then was discovered with some very wet terrain underfoot.

I took my life in my hands to save a distressed Harriette in Pissonya who was cast adrift in the middle of a river soon to fall to a watery grave. Alas Leeky leapt to her rescue and duly hid behind the dainty Russian as Little Shit gave her a good soaking from the river. Pissonya would have almost surely stayed drier if she had just waded across the river in the first place.

The trail was a long one, to long for Aids and Drillbit who slinked off hand in hand into to the deep Forest in the complete opposite direction to the Flour.Very good trail, a little long for some, a bit more Flour in places would have scored higher marks but then we are in a transitional period regarding Trail setting as Muff Diver has documented recently and received an “exception”alretort.

Aids called for the circle and the Down Downs went roughly like this…..

• Mrs T Home alone, (Daughter studying and husband Hippo away trying to keep up with his mates on Electric Bikes!)

• Tonto & Barbarella Both having Religious moments

• Steve NNY Safely over water then came to a muddy end!

• Cheesy Cox Calling the Pope a Moron!

• Red Stripe A miracle……She walks with a broken back!

• Trail tuition Muffdiver, Babarella, Cheesycox& ((by Ballerina)

• Underlay……and GTP apparently stands for Got Tiny Penis

• Old B**stard Aids

• Turkish Hero The Penguin

• Christening Steve NNY from now on to known as UNDERLAY!

Well done Bruce good run, good fun, ON INN to the Feughside Inn to watch Ireland and The Dutch Mill to see Scotland

ONON

Leeky Willie

Pre run Down Down:

Drill bit - For manoeuvring his car so that it would be straighter in the parking space but it was still squint!

Started running around the University campus with most of the male hashers taking a closer look of the girls hockey team on the playing fields. Then up passed the library onto Bedford Road and through Powis and Tillydrone streets where we were pestered for hash and not hashers. On over beside the Zoology building into Seaton Park passing the walls of the Cruickshank Gardens. (If you fancy a walk on a sunny day through beautiful gardens then you should go there and you can even volunteer your gardening skills on a Wednesday!

https:www.abdn.ac.ukbotanic-garden

Some of us missed the sweetie check and nettles J and investigated the student accommodation instead

Had time for quick look in the walled gardens and then we stumbled on the Beer check in Seaton Park leaving just a short run back to St Machar Drive.

Good run Sceptic Cheesey Cox!

Down Downs:

• Drill bit - For struggling to get his belly into his sweat shirt and blaming it on having shrunk in the wash.

• Smurf - For taking part in Glack Attack and stopping Red Stripe in her tracks at the bottom of the mud slide and breaking her back.

• Golden Shower - AH3 name being taken into disrepute whilst taking part in Middle Class running with Park Run and silly antics like tea and cake afterwards.

• Golden Shower - For being a shit husband and losing his wife for an hour on Mearns run yesterday and then again today as Dimples, Pink Panther and Thrupenny Bits got lost (In Aberdeen??) and didn’t turn up until after the Down Downs.

• Toy Boy Tom, Barberella and UnderLay - For short cutting to avoid the nettles but they did make it to the sweetie stop unlike most of the hash.

• Smiler - For asking the hare if there was a short cut!

• Goat Wrestler - For falling for scam in Barcelona where some motor cyclists stopped him in his hire car to say he had a flat tyre and helped to change it, only to realise later that they had nicked his wallet, phone etc and they had actually burst his tyre on purpose.

• Cinders - For hiding her car keys SO safely and securely when she went on holiday that she couldn’t find them!

• YNO - For being a visiting hasher from Australia.

• Pissonya - Awarded by the hare for helping set the run but for being a bitch and leaving him half way round in the dark and scared on his own in Seaton park.

• Dimples, Pink Panther and Thrupenny Bits - Got lost and arrived after the circle.

• Cheesy Cox - For being hare of the week.

Scribe: Smiler

Drumtochty Glen – a haven of tranquillity under the blue skies with shafts of gentle autumnal sunlight piercing the tree canopies of pastel green leaves. Ok, balls to the romantic stuff, but it was a good setting for the AH3 run and the unusually pleasant spell of weather had to be enjoyed to the full before the icebergs and perma-rain set-in.

Tranquillity was shattered as the circle was called. Tuneless was picked-on first to receive his 25th run award, then hash virgins Hannah (from New York) and Oscar (from Fife) made their debuts into the way of the Hasher.

The Pink Panther proudly showed-off her pink flour, which suggested experience of how to ‘cut’ powdery substances, and then pointed us out the car park to start the trail.

The pack tore off (ok, hobbled, limped) and took the off-road trail opposite the Episcopal church with Barbarella noted to be right up the GM’s backside going up the hill.

The Pink Panther had an amazing way of appearing at various places along the trail looking completely cool and without having exerted herself. Must’ve spent at least 5 minutes planning it all. The checkpoints were mostly kind with the on-on being the easiest main trail. But the sweeties stop was a sneaky device to send the pack up the wrong trail and this saw JC furiously bugling to bring them back.

The PP again appeared as if by magic to point us up a hill which led to secreted bags of beer. A pool of crystal clear water was near the beer stop and Sergio showed his appreciation of nature’s beauty by urinating in it, or maybe it was primeval instinct to mark his territory near the beer bag.

Back at the post-run circle, down-downs were administered to:

• Golden Shower, can’t remember what for!

• Sir Deadmund Hillary, for waffling on about planet alignment

• Big Owl, a returner

• Olympric, for sitting so smugly with his can at the beer stop as everyone else rolled-up

• Various English persons, cos of England losing to Australia in the Rugby World Cup

• Tonto, Barbarella, Glasgow, for boring the arse off the world with techno talk about solar panels

• Drillbit and Ballerina, for being late travelling ‘Mr Men’

• Red Stripe, for her conkers

• Tonto, for going the wrong way through a gulley while claiming the flour was his friend.

• Fireflaps, Red Stripe and Eveready, for getting their tops off

• Glasgow, for being re-united with a scarf that was lost during AH3’s last visit to Drumtochty.

• Muff Diver, for always complaining about Ballerina’s choice of beer

• Tuneless, for supposedly having new footwear

• Twizzle, a rebounded DD after trying to blame the hare for dropping litter

That’s it!! Thanks to those who organised what was a fine run.

Annual joint run with Elgin H3, Hared by Aberdeen H3.

I arrived just as the circle was being assembled. Parked my car and put on footwear,only to be given the scribe when I joined the circle, our newly incumbent GM then changed his mind and thought he could find a better victim for scribe, I begged him to leave it with me ( I'm so dumb, as the song goes!) as I've not done one for ages.

A few friendly faces were in attendance from Elgin HHH who had joined us as we have bi-yearly shared runs, it might have just been we were so close, I'm sure the hares knew what they were doing.

An award for Sir Deadmund Hillary 500 runs.

A sweat shirt beautifully embroidered with the Hash logo and his handle was the present. It must take up all of Thrupenny Bit's spare time sewing these into the garments! Made of only the finest materials sourced from around the globe, cotton from America, labour from India and thread from China.

"Next to the skin!" was the cry, Sir DH shamelessly obliged to the delight of the Harriets. Sir DH claimed it had taken 40 years to achieve 500 runs.

Toy Boy Tom made an announcement that the quota for using the toilets was 7 dumps max in any 24 hour period, some sort of composting waste toilet was in use, bare that in mind he said. Toilet humour at that time in the morning. Too much information!

Over to the Hare, Bodsa was about to say something else and was cut short by the Hare who must have had a memory loss as he called her Miss Elgin!

Little Shit gave instructions. The beer would be within 10 metres of the "B". Simples!

On on given, with the bent elbow sign, through the trees and away from the cars road.

Well after an early back check luckily I was lagging the front runners and McCavity and One Liner took the uphill punishment. Now a FR I discussed the Park Run with McCavity who was a keen member also, he gave some tips on running “Practice on hills and intermittent sprints and for Hashing run hard up the hills and rest on the way down!"

Came to another check at a T junction McC went downhill with somebody's dog, I almost followed but then decided it would be uphill so close to the start. 200 m up the hill round the corner only to find a back check! An attempt was made to wait for the pack to make the same mistake which was reasonably successful.

Someone said when I newly joined "I would learn about the Hash come time!" and all I have learned is I'm not a fast learner!

Little Shit & Sharnie know how to fool the Hashers.

Along to the left at a gate at the bottom, we seemed to be going the wrong way. I need not have worried as we were soon heading uphill, Bodsa's old dog was ahead of us but she said its hips were in a bad way and had no muscle there. I thought that might be me in a few years’ time!

Anyway back to the run, this was looking good we had joined a track and from one or two advantage points could see through the Scots pine trees a superb vista of the fields and valley below. Sun shining it was looking good for the first Sunday run of the year. I love Scots pine for Hashing through and its splendour, (Pinus sylvestris L.)

Arriving at the Beer stop there was confusion and panic, people milling about the usual "organisers" leaning on poles and shouting abuse. "What's happened? Has someone stole the beer?" Horror of horrors.

Walkers were looking despondent they would normally be onto their second can by now.

The hare said it would be 10 metres from the "B".

I joined the search, this should be easy, 10m then 15m then looking through bushes on death defying cliffs, nothing. Then Sharnie arrives she said" It’s over here look." and she looked and she looked and she had seen Little Shit hide it.

Eventually PigIron found the bag. Some nice Tangled Foot to be had for the first lucky few.

At the circle GM's Golden Shower, Bodsa and Cock-a-Tool

Bodsa invited us all to stay at her house for the Elgin Halloween AGPU see their website for details. Their Xmas Nosh and run 6th Dec.

Date: Saturday 12 December 2015

Venue: Craiglynne Hotel, Grantown-On-Spey

Costs: £91.90 per room (equivalent to £45.95 per person (based on 2 persons sharing a twin double room))

Doing it in style EH3.

Down downs ......

• Bodsa and McCavity for having dogs.

• Numbskull for talking Dog Sh!te.

• All the park runners (too many to mention)

• Chris and Sir Deadmund Hillary?

• Binliner for thinking they would take the train rather than cycle to Peterhead, they were using the railway line abandoned after Beeching had chopped it in the 60's!

• Struth and Cheesy Cox for Prickly Bush on the Park Run.

• Beer stop not being found Numbskull and Hill-Ary?

• The Hares Sharnie and Little Shit.

Sandwiches & soup provided by Sharnie.

Great run great day. Thanks to the forestry Commission for providing the venue.

It was a big of a scraggly bunch that turned out for the First Sunday Run of the Year.

Hashers were loitering around the car park waiting for latecomers from the Aberdeen train to swell their numbers whilst stories, rumours and downright fibs from the previous night’s party were being shared spread around.

Did we have a pre down down?

Pissonya reply "Hey! Yeah I sure did, for getting a return ticket from Dyce to Montrose just to get Krispy Kremes 2 months ago. It was so worth it!!"

The hare then took centre circle and explained that we would be whisked away on a “short” tour of Montrose with highlights.

The first highlight – there were no gamekeepers to dodge and there was plenty of flour. We oo’ed and aah’ed past the Montrose coast guard station where The Penguin shared his local knowledge with me - pointing out “Bamse“. “Bamse” was a famous Norwegian Dog who sailed with the Navy in World War 2 on a mine sweeper!

On past the fire station on past or running parallel to but not ON (Toy Boy Tom) the glorious beach of natural outstanding beauty and on to the next highlight- ice cream stop.

This had been promised by the hare and was certainly necessary as some hashers were finding the tour taxing after the frolics from the previous evening.It was ice creams, in all shapes and sizes all round, with the Hare having the biggest one.Sadly I had no money but luckily enough a FRB very kindly donated his flake to my cause.

A small break ensued where we all checked out the view whilst Gay Gordon drew in the sand and played at the Seafront Splash.

Back on the tour we spent some time faffing around on the links – a bit too much time – and on past one of the oldest golf links in the world.

Round and round the pond a couple of times, round the “track” (think the hare was round the bend), through the Air Station Heritage Centre and onto refreshments provided in a fellow hashers glorious garden - thanks Cat.

It wasn’t the last stop of the day though – no that was the Montrose Basin – which as the tour guide pointed out was known for millions of migrating pink footed geese. Last Sunday it was the lessor known pink legged hasher who was to be seen gingerly picking their route over the mud flats.

Best run of the year ….. So far!

On on

“Ancient Relics of Aberdeenshire"

The hash charabang (coach. Ed) lurched through Aberdeen picking up bands of hash refugees huddled with their meagre belongings on street corners and alleyways, which is judging by their appearance where they slept the night before.

Out of town the throng travelled an early autumn landscape with a tinge of orange in the trees and corn fields golden and ready to be mowed. Gray clouds abound; will it be grayer and wet or bluer and sunny?

The charabang lurched to a halt in a lay-bye somewhere at the first of the ancient relics of the day: a telephone box! Dragon commented that we must be near Fort William.

The pack assembled and when instructed by Little Shit assumed a circular formation. Little Shit requested a volunteer to be Scribe. The response was, as usual, overwhelming! Everyone was desperately trying to hide behind someone else and look as inconspicuous as possible. Twizzle succeeded! He was hiding behind me and thrust me forward into the circle. It felt like I was in the middle of the circle; I returned to the circle hoping no one had noticed, a vain hope.

Olymprick and Fifi were charged with failing to book a seat on the bus and came out with some lame excuses.

Over to the hare: the run will be in 4 parts. Part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4 it's beginning to sound like a soap opera already! So you can run as many sections as you like! The charabang would be following the route picking up the dead and dying. Part 1 was to be trail with flour, checks and checkbacks; part 2 trail with flour, checkbacks, & checks; part 3 trail checks, checkbacks and flour, and part four trail with flour, checks, checkbacks and a beer check! Fast approaching “Too much information!"

OnOn! That way -- the pack was off and into the forest, always moving to the right. The first check was hidden under a layer of delicately placed fern leaves, which certainly did not suggest it was done by either Little Shit or Muff Diver. I chose to go right and the trail continued going right. “I’m going to be back at the beginning in a moment" saved by a checkback! Now I was way at the back of the pack. And then to the second ancient relic of the day, but hello! This one is moving! Not only was that it running! Yes, Aids in full flight! A very rare sight! On On through the forest along trails and tracks. The track was getting shiggier and shiggier and then the trail was blocked by a cacophony of screams, shrieks

And shouts as C Cox and Pissonya slithered and slid about in the shiggy. It was difficult to say which was screaming, shrieking and shouting the most; but by the height pitched noise it must have been C Cox.

OnOn to Cluny, past the charabang and past the Kirk, I gave a few blasts on the horn to keep those inside awake. OnOn and past the front of Cluny Castle.

Ahead I could see his Lordship distributing alms to the poor from a bag he was carrying. As I got closer I could see it was a Lidl bag! My times are hard in these parts! As I got close still it turned out to be Lord Muff Diver as he turned to take a selfie with his castle in the background.

OnOn back into the forest. After a check flour was found around a swamp before breaking through undergrowth and out into on open field and uphill. Looking back from the top of the hill the pack was strung out into the distance. A check at the top of the hill brought the pack together again then back down to the swamp and on on past a swimming pond, not very inviting; the green tinged soup was not going to entice anyone today. JC climbed up and hid in a deer hide, we knew it was JC because we could all see him and hear him as he blew his horn inviting deer to shoot him: none did. On to a large erection, the pack congregated and marvelled at the sight, standing there in the middle of nowhere now but this location must have been much more significant when it was erected. The erection was soon forgotten at the sweetie check a short distance further on. The sweeties were scoffed as we looked over another green tinged pond with bolder island and could not help but wonder which Boulder Cockatool would have climbed onto had he been with us.

Onward through the forest and a short detour around a drainage ditch. Ballerina decided to cross the ditch and firemen lifted Roger Me More over. Saving themselves about 50 meters. Back past the charabang again and on into a field of rapeseed stubble, which has got to be one of the worst running surfaces ever!

OnOn and in through the tradesman's entrance to Fraser Castle gardens, with permission (No. Ed)! Ballerina continued to give assistance to Roger Me More by giving her a ride in a wheelbarrow which he picked up from the wheelbarrow rank at the side of the track. But only a short distance before wheelbarrow crashed and dumped its contents on the ground.

OnOn past the front of Fraser Castle, very impressive!

Still no beer check, thought it might have been on the front steps of the castle.

OnOn and a quick loop around a stone circle in the middle of a field of rapeseed stubble: why would you put a stone circle in the middle of a field of rapeseed stubble!!

OnOn into another forest, dragging uphill longing for a beer, and there in the middle of the forest at the top of a hill was another ancient relic, an obelisk with the beer check!

OnOn, can't be far now, can it? It was, on down to Mrs T's Hippo farm. At last food and drink in the sunshine! Burgers, sausages, black pudding and chicken curry with all the fixings. Circle up!

Pissonya 50 Runs award!

Notable run milestones during the year:

100 Runs Golden Shower,

Prickly Bush 150 Runs scribble scribble, pens stopped writing

300 Runs Twizzle

450 Runs Tonto

555 Runs Sharnie

600 Runs Willie Wozoff

666 Runs Drillbit

700 Runs Numbskull

800 Runs Sergio

850 Runs Cinders

900 Runs The Penguin, JC

950 Runs Hippo

• C Cox charged Drillbit with being reincarnated by beer

• HM charged Toy Boy Tom and Golden Shower with warming up before the run. We only went for a pee.

• Golden Shower charged Dimples with mistaking Tuneless with The Penguin.

• Twizzle charged Tonto, Drillbit, Ballerina and Tuneless with something (pens stopped working again)

• Bruce Almighty, Olymprick charged with trying to drink all the drinks at the beer stop.

• Down down for the hares Little Shit & Muff Diver for a good run.

• Down down for the new septuagenarians - Willie Wozoff and The Penguin

• The Penguin sang a song, "Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be"

Awards:

• Most runs for the year. Golden Shower 45, Barbarella 44, Sharnie 43

• Most Hares: Muff Diver, Prickly Bush

• No Hares! TB, Struth, SB, Bruce Almighty, Tuneless, Smurf, HM, Drag-on, Winnie-the-Shit

• Best run, Toy Boy Tom, Chessy Cox, Twizzle, Tonto, Prickly Bush

• Worst Run - Muff Diver, Barbarella. Muff Diver for palming it off onto Golden Shower

• Best OnOn - Mrs T, T-Rex Cock, Muff Diver, Sharnie. Barbarella, Fifi, Mad Cyclist

• Hash Shit of the Year - Numbskull for being Numbskull, Golden Shower for promoting competitive running and fraternizing with MH4 Golden Shower

The end of 2014/2015

The outgoing committee stands down

The beginning of 2015/2016

Election of new Committtee

• GM- Golden Shower

• RA- Aids, Cheesy Cox, Twizzle

• Hash Cash - Sharnie

• Hash Brew - Hippo and Ballerina

• Head Hare - Muff Diver

• Web Master - Muff Diver

• Soc Sec - Roger Me More Pissonya Smurf

• Hash Haberdash - Sharnie

Games on the lawn. Smashing eggs on your head, which might be raw or hard boiled and running to a tree and back first team back wins. Mine was raw. Walking around a pole 5 times and then falling over. Then falling onto the charabang and all going home.

A good turnout for the last Monday run of the year, after all half the hash could have walked to the start. I was given hash scribe, again! Tuneless was quite tickled when he heard the new hash horn with its embarrassing squeak for the first time.

One new runner was Cat from Montrose was interrogated by our misogynistic GM and introduced to the pack. Hopefully she will be back.

Toy Boy Tom our Hare announced his plan for the "Run of the Year' hopefully trying to gain votes for the run at the AH3 AGPU next Sunday.

Off we went meandering through the rejuvenated Duthie Park and out of the West entrance to a sneaky check down a pathway to the housing estate hidden behind a hedge. This led on to more back jiggers, ginnels or whatever Aberdonians call them down to the old suspension bridge across the Dee.

We had been warned there was a 'Adventurous' or an 'Easy' split. I elected for the easy as I could see the FRB's slipping, sliding and cursing as they hooked back under the bridge on the mossy and rocky tide line back to the boat club. On On along the riverside path to Victoria bridge cheered on by three happy winos on a park bench.

Across the bridge and onto the North Esplanade where some blue flashing lights distracted us from finding the trail. Fortunately Toy Boy Tom knew where we were supposed to go after much milling about and the cops wondering what was going on. Some of us eventually arrived at the sweetie stop overlooking Bon Accord park but by this time I think there were several splinter groups with local knowledge homing in on the beer check.

As I was not driving and determined to bag a decent beer at the beer check I caught up with Twizzle as he returned from a falsie to request him to save me an IPA as he overtook me. He kindly grabbed the last bottle of quality beer for me.

The beer check was down by the old Ghillies hut at the riverside complete with sandy beach. The night was drawing in by now and it was a short walk back to the cars on a relatively balmy evening and to more beer.

Maybe because of the good selection of drinks, the location and the pleasant weather everybody had something to say.

I thorough enjoyed the night and even the run. Thank you Tom

Down Downs:

• Wotzoff for bleeding. Didn't hear why!

• Numbskull and sons + Sir Deadmund Hillary for technology

• Little Shit for misogyny and a interest in bra sizes

• Prickly Bush also into bras

• Toy Boy Tom: Electioneering

• Cat: shaking her a..s when presented with a perfectly sized pair of tartan shorts

• Bruce Almighty for excess baggage

• G. Roper at the AH3 lunch with only soup as he had just had his teeth done

• Twizzle trying to get on a bus with an old ski pass after watching Drillbit trying with his bank card

• Eveready for not zipping it

• Toy Boy Tom for his electoral efforts for "Run of the Year"

• Roger Me More for nails

• Littlle Shit for clearing a 26 bed dormitory at Nash Hash with his snoring

• Toy Boy Tom, our hare for setting the "Run of the Year"

On On

Drillbit

It’s Monday! Its hash day!

Time to move those feet

We circle up, we look around

(thanks Pissonya for the fresh meat)

Off we go along the river

Feeling in fine fettle

Which doesn't last long, as we slog

Through overgrowth and nettles

Tempers fray, humour lost

We piss a hunting Jock off

The run's cut short and Penguin threatens

To knock Cocks 'fucking block off'

High Maintenance got things started

Informing Cock his run was no good

Pig Iron expressed lack of sympathy over

Muff Divers lack of wood

Ballerina as hash beer

Was berated for lack of ale

Bruce Almighty had to drink

For two left shoes on trail

All in all the hares gave us

The worst trail ever seen

And for their efforts will surely get

Shit run of 2015

Scribe

Fire Flaps

Over to the GM;

Two new runners,

• Stephen, fresh meat for the girls and

• Forskin Fred, ex Hong Kong, here to sort out our road problems.

Over to the RA;

Pre run down down to High Maintenance for having a remarkably resilient and good looking sheep tick, it started off as a black head, then turned into a beauty spot and then a witch’s wart.

Over to the hares;

The Penguin used various mystic hand signals to explain the markings on the ground, I'm assuming he was trying the magically make the flour reappear after the traditional pre-run deluge. My mind was put at rest by Pigiron as he reliably informed me the weather front had passed and we would now require sun tan lotion. I went for the "ever so soft midge spray".

"Hands up if you're going to the Gillies Lair" - "they won't be able to see us up here" was Hippo's response. It's going to be one of those nights.

"On On" up the hill, to the gate by the road. Past knowledge is not always a good thing, "it went this way last time, check it out!". No, the trail went in totally the wrong direction. Back of the pack again.

The hares had managed to employ a number of FRB traps, back checks, loops and 360 deg checks to keep the pack together. Well thought out.

Cockatool found a mud hole to wallow in and seemed to piss off Turkish Delight, but I think he may have got away with it. After that is was walk, and chit chat and a few overheard private conversations which I've been asked not to repeat, so I will only say it once:

Red Stripe: "How would you describe me?"

Gay Gordon: "ABCDEFGHIJK."

Red Stripe: "What does that mean?"

Gay Gordon: "Adorable, beautiful, cute, delightful, elegant, fashionable, gorgeous, and hot."

Red Stripe: "Aw, thank you, but what about IJK?"

Gay Gordon: "I'm just kidding!"

And then there was talk about a plane crash that nearly happened, apparently Eveready jumped up frantically and announced, "If I'm going to die, I want to die feeling like a woman." She removed all her clothing and asked, “Is there someone on this plane who is man enough to make me feel like a woman?" Cockatool stood up, removed his shirt and said, "Here, iron this!”

At a recent AH3 golf outing, Pink Panther was taking golf lessons and had just started playing her first round of golf when she suffered a bee sting. Her pain was so intense that she decided to return to the clubhouse for medical assistance. Oneliner saw her heading back and said, "You are back early, what's wrong?" "I was stung by a bee!" she said. "Where?" he asked. "Between the first and second hole." she replied. He nodded and said, "Your stance is far too wide."

Stainless was being a bit indiscrete about going to the doctor and complaining that Pigiron was losing interest in sex. The doctor gave her a pill, but warned her that it was still experimental. He told her to slip it into his mashed potatoes at dinner, so that night, she did just that. About a week later, she went back to the doctor, where she said,”Doctor, the pill worked just fine! I put it in the potatoes like you said! It wasn't five minutes later that he jumped up, raked all the food and dishes onto the floor, grabbed me, ripped all my clothes off, and ravaged me right there on the table!"

The doctor said, "I'm sorry, we didn't realise the pill was that! The surgery will be glad to pay for any damages." "No," she says, ”that's okay. We're never going back to that restaurant anyway."

Golden Shower was setting up a new password for his computer. He thought he'd be smart and put in, "Mypenis," and the onscreen message read. "Error. Not long enough."

When Sergio was a small kid he took his cat to school and the teacher asked him "Why is your cat at school today?" Sergio replied crying, "Because I heard my daddy tell my mommy, 'I am going to eat that **ssy once I had left for school today!'

The trail meandered about and eventually we ended up at the monument at the top of the hill, inscribed with "This monument has the inscription "In remembrance of the visit of H.R.H. Albert Prince Consort to this spot XV sept MDCCCLIX" (1859)"

Surprisingly the pack arrived at about the same time. It still took a while to find some beer, but we did and it was good and the weather was good and all was good.

Back at the cars.

Over to the RA;

Grab a granny night at the beer festival. Eveready after the man of her dreams, by apparently inserting a tongue round the larynx of any man in sight, and our new runner Stephen was in the line of fire; Then Struth appeared in the circle, not sure what for, my pen was overheating.

Then a tale of three chickens, one called chuck, the second called chuck and the third called chuck, who were in actual fact minions and someone called Kevin got thrown into the mix to add some spice. At this point I was losing the plot, and it was finally revealed that Fire Flaps had two cocks instead of one cock. "Suites you misses"

The next story also started with "cock, cock, cock", but strangely no Kevin, unless he is doing a "bit of this running malarky". So Pissonya got her reward for signing up for the Bear Grylls survival race and Great Scottish run..

Guilty as charged, Bruce Almighty actually spotted running; well, nearly running. His downhill momentum had put him through the running barrier, the sonic after shock taking out numerous wild flowers and a passing haggis.

Hashing shorts, exquisitely tailored to fit - tight round the crutch and shows the manhood off a treat - Toy Boy Tom a star in the making.

Eveready then placed a charge on Cockatool for revealing his derriere to all at FMUKNH.

At this point I expected Bruce Almighty to be summoned once again, but I was wrong, pole dancing is not only his reserve, but is being replicated by Pissonya, only the pole was not that secure and the tent it was supporting was not impressed.

Then a down down for your dutiful scribe for using the Onelist to advise how to register to the Onelist, "simples".

New runners Foreskin Fred and Stephen.

Then the Hares, The Orienteer and The Penguin, thanks for a great trail and good weather (eventually).

Over to the OnInn;

Gillies Lair at the Bridge of Dee.

Your 'umble scribe

Little Shit

Scribe: Donka, Hamersley HHH (not Doona as scribed last week)

Pre-amble: G'day Cobbers.

Run site: Good run site and weather, spoilt by the GM approaching me and said you've got a choice Aussie Bob, either get covered in shiggy or scribe for the night.

'Fair Dinkum' says I, Good Onya I thought, and may your chooks turn into Emu's and kick your dunny door doon.

Ok, no worries, sometimes you just have to accept your fate, and as an old Abbo once said to me:

When I born, I black

When I grow up, I black

When I go in sun, I black

When I cold, I black

When I scared, I black

When I sick, I black

When I die, I black

You white fellas:

When you born, you pink

When you grow up, you white

When you go in sun, you red

When you cold, you blue

When you scared, you yellow

When you sick, you green

When you die, you grey

And you got the balls to call me coloured!

Pre run Awards:

Gay Gordon receives his 100 run shirt.

Run breakdown:

Short run, tucker stop, booze stop and those on walkabout, lollys and whisky drink with the flies.

Hippo sets off with amazing pace up the track like a Ewe running from a sex starved Kiwi. The Penguin waddled closely behind. Track split to right along tree line with those on walkabout directed straight up the hill. Trail took us over broken wall and Hillary calls back to me 'wobbly rocks' - 'not mine' I say, 'I'm wearing my budgie smugglers'. On on through woods, shiggy and nettles and young LBS whimpers that he is getting nettle rash. More like nappy rash - toughen up Princess!

Run continues through woods, uphill, over gate and onto the tucker stop close to billabong. No guessing who sniffed out the lolly bags and who was first in - hint: short legs, wings that don't fly and wears dinner jacket to all occasions.

Track continues through trees and goes up and down like a dunny seat. On to booze stop which is just as well as I was as dry as a dead dingo’s donger.

After quick trip to bushes to siphon the Python it was On to the circle. Run totally rooted by T Rex Cock running half naked down the track with tits swinging so much he ended up with two black eyes.

Charges:

GM on Bruce Almighty for moonlighting as a builder.

Sir Deadman Hillary on Red Stripe for tick removing. Roger Me More for screaming at T Rex Cock and One Liner masquerading as an American cop because he hated black ones at the tucker stop.

Struth, slow down Deadman, he was as busy as a blowey at a barbie.

6 disgraceful hashers were charged for non-hash gear and Gay Gordon charged Glasgow and Pissonya Olga for pretending to be athletes.

One Liner dobbed himself in for being smug and content with life. His zebra stripe suntan was testament to lounging around on his new deck.

All in all- good run in sun.

Philosophical musings on Sergio's run:

Sometimes it is worth just standing back and reflecting on what a wonderful part of the world we live. Not only its great scenery but also its truly helpful residents.

Pre run awards:

• Golden Shower - a swish looking 100 run sweaty shirt.

• One Foot - a shiny new 250 run tankard.

Sergio's run proved the point. Shortly after the run had started, the trail took us along a track by some fields when saw a cloud of dust high on the horizon heading at high speed towards us.

The car decelerated to a halt in front of us and a resident stepped out. What a helpful resident! He kindly pointed out - and I shall paraphrase here - that the trail couldn't continue along the track because it only went to his house, and that therefore we'd better go another way.

Fortunately, the trail at that very point turned right into the field. Again, the resident was, how shall I say, most considerate. He advised that we couldn't go that way because we'd have to smash down the fences. The Hare thanked him and mentioned that he'd been under those fences with a rucksack. The resident was incredulous, but declined the Hare's offer to be witness how it's done.

True, the fences were tricky, but, it's the Hash. The fences were limbo'd, so there was no need to smash them down!

The trail took us to the sparkling Dee, and then up to the heights above Milltimber along a wonderful grassy trail with great views of the lovely Deeside scenery.

Not that Numskull saw much of that. He instead went off to the Hares' house, presumably either to see if the beer stop was there or to do some opportunistic burgling. Pink Panther and Sh*t Boyfriend also didn't make it to the heights above Milltimber. They instead took a short cut through Milltimber housing estate, where Pink Panther later revealed that they found something interesting. An alternative Milltimber high perhaps? There's a first.

Those of us who made it high up above Milltimber enjoyed the wonderful scenery - a last chance before noise and obstacle of the bi-pass makes it less wonderful, if indeed passable. Still, some will remember the run for being their first run along the bi-pass, as we turned downhill to where surely the beer stop would be, surely it would be, soon?

Through the woods, and, yes, the beer stop! On the patio of Dad Dad & Mary. Thanks! Yes, proof of what wonderful scenery and wonderful residents we do indeed have!

Now, of course the Hash had started with the GM and RA ably performing their duties.

A new runner and a visitor from Hamersley.

For their own sakes, however, their names are withheld from publication because it was revealed that (a) they hang around with The Penguin and (b) they, and The Penguin, so it was also revealed, like to hang around the local scout hut! Oops. Ed.

• A new runner, mate of The Penguin and Donka and apparently in boy scouts.. Donka a visitor from Hamersley, well introduced to shiggy by Cockatool, wit a fine rendition of Hamersley take it up the arse.

• Little Shit & Sharnie - who ate all the pies, fair cop.

• Fire Flaps for taking three taxis to get home.

• Numbskull for going to the wrong beer check.

• And finally a Hashie birthday to The Penguin - a Septic Geranium (70 years, bugger me! Which takes us back to Hamersley)

On! On!

Toy Boy Tom

On On: Tesco car park, Bridge of Don, at the quiet end near the petrol station

This scribe starts with an observation from One Liner delivered at the end of the evening which went along the lines of - never I have I been on a Hash that just kept on giving f*** ups!

To start it was particularly wet, that standing in a shower kind of rain that you get in a Scottish summer. It was also on the chill side and with a brisk wind. So the scene is set for a pack in need of a good run to blow that misery away.

As we gathered at the petrol station - it was the quiet in end in that nobody parked there, however every car going to Tesco's did drive past so quiet was a relative term - there was no hare so an intrepid duo set of to try the circle location we had been advised to use. No hare. Some arrows were located but absolutely no hare.

Back at Tesco's the time had come to start - no hare - but the jet lagged GM decided to get us off his hands to let him get home to his bed. Circle nearly complete and Hare arrives.

The walkie talkies are given a package of information and the pack is offered flour which we declined - mistake - had we taken it we would have had some flour to follow. On On is called and the front running pack set off back to the circle area that we hadn't used. The walkie talkies review their array of maps and feedback on the Danestone wild walk.

What happens then between 7.10pm and 8.45pm had many mutations but to keep it concise:

Walkie talkies set of together and split into groups 1 and 2.

Group 2 goes for a half hour run and returns to car park.

Group 1 further splits with 1a undertaking a walk that returns them to the car park.

Group 1b turns back earlier and goes to Tesco for a coffee and some shopping.

Somehow, one suspects divine intervention, groups 1a and 2 then head off to the Hare's house because that is where the beer check is. When they get there the Hare's wife (who is supposed to be out for the night) lets them in offering beer, drinks and crisps, but notably not the pizza and sausage rolls purchased for the beer check.

Runners immediately split into two groups. Group 1 then sets off on their own while group 2 is directed by the hare. The hare then seeks out runners group 1 to advise them that they have missed a bit and have to go back and do - this intimation results in group 1 splitting into 1a that go with the hare, 1b that does not and 1c who shoot off into the distance.

Runners group 2, led by the hare, complete most of the run and travelling via the car park then head to the Hare's house for the beer check. The Penguin is left behind at this point as he was getting changed in the trolley park and is later found there by runners group 1b(2).

Runners group 1c go a very long way largely without flour and return to the car park well after everybody else.

Runners group 1b eventually decide to catch up with group 1a but in doing so split into 1b(1) and 1b(2) with the latter changing allegiances and short cutting to join group 2 (and therefore making it to the beer check). Group 1b(1) do what they can find of the run and return to the car park, find The Penguin and walkie talkie group 1b, who has now finished shopping. They, minus the Penguin, set off for the Hare's house but fail to find it and so return to car park. It is still raining rather heavily.

At the beer check the Hare is astonished to find his wife at home, just as well she was or those there before the Hare would have had to stand outside. He brings runners group 2 in through the front door, leaving wet shoes at the door but padding through the house in wet socks, to find the beer outside - rescued for the runners by the walkie talkie groups already there.

And then!!! The decision is made to heat up the sausage rolls and pizza and so those of the pack that are at the Hare's house get beer and food. A fine time is had while the food heats up and then in consuming it. Back at the car park it is still raining, heavily, and those who have not located the hare's house (no address was actually given other than it is in Danestone) wait.

As ever all regroup at the car park in time and an extremely short circle is held.

The Hare is assured that this run will be joining his other haring attempt as nominations for the worst run of the year - nobody else need apply!

Cinders

Trouser Shredders Farewell Run (Edinburgh Bound)

Hares: Numbskull, Fireflaps, Princess Sapphire and Nugget

A slightly depleted clan, due to holidays, met and milled aimlessly in the main square car park in Stonehaven. By 19:05 it became obvious we had been left to our own devices as there was no GM, no RA, no Hash Cash to bring folk to order. What to do? At least the hares were there. I had 5 minutes earlier upset Numbskulls plans for setting two beer and sweetie checks using his bike by breaking the chain when having a test ride on his bike.

Eveready was elected Hash Cash as she had eventually found a pen and paper.

The circle was finally called after Twizzle shouted form a circle and pushed me into the middle. An old AH3 hasher, Moon Boots, who was on holiday in Stonehaven and had bumped into Olymprick the previous day, was introduced to the pack. Numbskull, still smarting from having his beer check plans dashed, insisted on giving Toy Boy from Edinburgh a down down for returning despite working in Aberdeen for six months on and having done several runs with AH3. Bruce Almighty insisted on giving me the pre-run down down for jeopardising the beer check. As usual nobody wanted the hash horn so I delegated myself.

After quick repairs to Fireflaps bike, contingency plans were in place to set the beer and save the run.

The hares was pointed towards the beach were 100m later the pack ground to halt at the first check and the trail found only after a few brave hearts ventured at least 200m along the promenade to find flour (Numbskull on his bike?) We were misled toward Cowie where many thought we were going along the beach and up the cliff. Not to be, a back check past the swimming pool and then up the long drag out of Stonehaven to the Netherley road eventually took us into the Ury Estate.

By this time I was at the back of the pack chatting with Sir Deadmund Hillary and Toy Boy, busy explaining the new plans for the estate and Ury House. Did you know Ury House was built by John Barclay whose name Barclays bank came from?

Eventually we arrived at the sweetie stop just as the pack departed. Struth had rescued a few chocolate bars for us stragglers and we continued our walk via a newly constructed path under the road bridge on the A90. Over the years we have been the only ones stupid enough to run the precipitous path that used to be here but the council must have seen our aging pack and ordered the new housing builders to put a path in.

A decision had to be made at this point to stay high or go low, Struth and I elected to go low and Toy Boy sensibly stayed high. After a slippy descent to a CSI crime scene I did not want to climb back up the hill and decided to clean my shoes crossing the river at the weir with Struth reluctantly following. Now moving along the pretty and well used North bank of the river we caught up with the pack beating their way through virgin brambles, nettles and ferns on the South bank.

Unfortunately the first beer check was on the South side of the river and I had to be led by the hand by Struth as I managed to find every deep hole in the river crossing. Shouting save me a beer I struggled out of the water to be promptly handed a Crabbies Ginger Beer, I’d rather have a proper beer I mumbled but was told it was ginger beer or nothing. It was OK after the sugar hit had eased. Why sweeten it so much?

On On across the park to where the hares had hidden the real beer at a second beer check and where we caught up with four shirkers Olymprick, Bruce Almighty, Muff Diver and G.r.oper who had disappeared into an Indian restaurant at the start of the run and bolted down a curry and two pints of lager in 59 minutes. Olymprick not running regularly but still a bad influence when he does turn up.

Trouser Shredder borrowed Princess Sapphires bike only to be chased home by a 9 year old with a 500 ml bottle of best bitter frothing in her hand as we wandered back to the square.

Thank you hares for the run

Down Downs:

• The Prof: Fireflaps scoring 83% in her O.U. physics exam. What people do to impress their dreamboats, Brian Cox that is!

• Muff Diver: Modelling his Red Dress for Krakow kindly shortened professionally by Pig Iron!

• Drillbit: being there

• LBS: New shoes

• Princess Sapphire

• Moon Boots: Returner

• The Delhi Belly 4, Olymprick, Bruce Almighty, Muff Diver and G.r.oper

• Trouser Shredder: sadly departing our company for Edinburgh

• The 4 hares, Numbskull, Fireflaps, Princess Sapphire and Nugget

On Inn: The Marine Hotel

Several went back to the Marine for a farewell drink with Trouser Shredder. I was not driving and my chauffeur was happy to hang around while I indulged myself with the festival beer. A few beers and G&Ts were quaffed and a pleasant evening had by all sat on the harbour wall and in the pub

Kintore Roman Run - historical note

Cursus MDCCCXXII Luna day VI July MMXV

As LBS has lived up to his name and failed to submit a scribe for this run, I thought I'd take the opportunity to pass on some information about this historic run (surprisingly overlooked for "run of the year")

The idea for the run came from seeing Tuach Hill which dominates the Royal Burgh of Kintore. "What a perfect lookout for the Roman Army!" I thought.

Agricola's legion established Europe's largest (44 hectare) marching camp, Deer's Den, in Kintore in the first century AD, now buried under Hall Forest Ave and Henderson Drive that you ran along. Archaeological excavations, made before the housing developments, revealed the largest concentration of roundhouses in Scotland and the largest number of Roman bread ovens excavated on any military site in the Empire!

It was good that many hashers dressed up as Romans, and even a few as Barbarians. Of course the only visible historical remains on the run was the tumulus (on Tumulus Way, of course), or rather the remaining remains inside the tumulus.

The "route march" section alongside the Tuach Burn seemed liked a good idea when we reconnoitred the run in March, but was waist-high in bracken, thistles, nettles and other vegetation by late June, so the trail had to be hacked put. Of course by late summer, it was virtually overgrown again.

I hope you enjoyed the exposed cliffs and hidden basins on the Tuach Hill due to old granite workings.

For those of you who risked the Primus trail, the old maps show that you were running around an oxbow lake that was once a bend in the River Don.

And for those who were scared off the secondus route by the angry farmer, who couldn't see that you could drive a Roman chariot along the 3'6" gutter at the side of his field, you missed the spooky, murky tunnel under the railway near the church, which provided road access to the far side of the old Kintore station for the good citizens of the Burgh.

The on-inn was historical too, being on a Roman road. It is likely that Robert the Bruce's men came down the River Don here from their camp up on the hill (crossed in my first run set for AH3) for their annual bath We raised £90 for the Wooden Spoon by the way.

HOWEVER, the run was historical mainly because it cannot be repeated. Kintore has changed since July! The bulldozers started flattening rough land to extend the Midmill Industrial Park on the day of the run, although I managed to set that bit of the trail at 6.30 after they finished work for the night.

But the link section between the Tuach Burn and the tumulus is now fenced off while the council squeeze in another 600 houses and a school on what was an unspoiled area of green. ("Progress" said the Council's man on the site!) Spookily, the spooky barns on the hill have been demolished, leaving not a trace behind. Even the "hidden" wooden plank bridge across the Tuach Burn has been pinched!

Hope you enjoyed the evening.

Pip! Pip

T. Rex Cock

A night where we all expected everyone to be in Shetland at the Simmer Din hash weekend, but in fact I still got over 30 turning up on my doorstep. It must have been the mention of a bowl of hot chilli that drew people in! Since key committee members were absent I ended up doing everyone’s job. GM, RA, hare, scribe, hash cash and food.

The run was set as a figure of 8 using Woodend hospital bridge as the route over the under (if you know what I mean!) Nobody got lost. Everybody seemed to have fun. I did confuse the Penguin by driving my car round by the hospital to see how folk were getting on. He spied me and assumed it was a mobile beer stop. He was wrong! Back at the house we circled up and after some hilarity the chilli was ready. I was eaten out of house and home. My darling wife was away and basically the hashers ate anything and everything. Blocks of cheese, 6 loafs of bread, bananas and apples, whiskey and wine. The party was still going on at 1am though I don't remember much about that. In the morning I awoke to a very grubby house. After 4 hours cleaning it was looking much better. I wandered off late afternoon for a curry and then went to see Jurassic Park, still feeling a bit groggy! On On.

A good length run,

Not too short,

Not too long (back at the cars at 8.15).

The Hare, Golden Shower, who had stepped in to cover High Maintenance and Muff Diver so they could swan off to a week in the Turkish sun, did a good job of keeping the pack together.

Highlights:

as above

Lowlights:

It was freezing cold.

It was windy.

The visibility was poor.

It was pissing down.

We were drenched.

And to top it all,

We were thwarted by a herd of cows who blocked our way off Brimmond Hill.

Haven’t a clue what happened in the circle as I ran directly to my car to strip off and get home to a hot bath to future Hares remember no good turn goes unpunished!!!

Scribe: More Butt

Scribe awarded to the person who was so stressed that the flipping horn (which is broken by the way) was so close to being shoved up the GM's backside you have no idea!!!! OH. And I was a walkie talkie! Very helpful! Was handed a piece of paper and a sawn off pencil (in case I stole a full sized one) to do this delightful chore. First thing written on the paper was: "Little Shit is a ______"! I'll let you fill in the blank! (Such a nice person is Little Shit. Ed)

Pre run down down went to Muff Diver for being naked in a Jacuzzi and got a dolly with more hair than him. Feck knows why! Wasn't listening! (a pair of Speedo's found in Drillbit's ski boot. Ed)

No idea what the run was like because I was a WALKIE TALKIE!!!! Lovely walk. Trees, views, paths. Found sweeties, found beer. Found some hashers eventually!

Pissonya had baked some cookies and was asking for favours (or something) in return

Down Downs:

• Sir Deadmund Hillary (who had managed to get lost on trail again) for throwing his bottle of ale on the ground and smashing it

• FiFi for being a sadist on a SM trail (no idea what this was about maybe coz I wasn't running!!!)

• Bruce Almighty came in to circle as he had been to Cairo and called in Little Shit and Tonto because their mother said 'Hi!'

• Whinger for missing the hash because he was playing golf (is attending the hash compulsory then????)

• Bruce Almighty for being an obstacle and or a SCB

• Red Stripe for being a walking scribe.. Again! Oh so it was noticed I wasn't a flippin runner then!?!?!

• Pigiron for leaving his map at the beer stop. Which I got the blame for obviously!

• Hippo for something to do with having a rubber fetish or fetish for Ballerinas spare tyre?

• Shite Boyfriend and Drillbit for keys being locked in car boot in Ballater and Drillbit's poor wife having to rescue them

• Rewind - visitor from Bristol who explained the story behind the saying 'ship shape and Bristol fashion'. No I can't remember the story

• Hares Drillbit and Muff Diver for what I'm sure was a great run. Thank you both

Anyone asks me to scribe when I'm a walkie talkie again and stressed beyond belief will have that sawn off pencil shoved where the sun don't shine!!!!

OnOn

Red Stripe

(An excellent effort. Ed)

Me again!!!!

Yet again, Little Shit chose yours truly to be the scribe for this prestigious affair, a mere 13 runs after I was the scribe previously! In that time just 5 others have produced a scribe report: Cinders, Golden Shower, Leeky (twice!), Toy Boy Tom and Short and Thick. Hardly a fair division of labour is it? But I don't want to be accused of being a Whinger, so let's just get on with it.

It had been a nice day so I decided to cycle to the run site, and the obvious choice of route was straight along the railway line. I was hailed by Sir Deadmund Hillary and Glasgow as I was speeding through West Cults - they were walking to the start, and no sooner than I had given them a cheery greeting than we arrived at the the bridge under Westerton Road.

Registration was "above ground" but at 7 pm we were called to order under the bridge by the GM. We had the usual chat and pre-run down down then it was over to the hare - astride a bike she was! "The run was laid at three different times" she said, sending a shiver down the spines of the old-timers who recognised the seeds of a marathon effort straight away.

However it wasn't as bad as feared. Firstly we went west, almost as far as the Norwood Hall then we ran up Westerton Road, passing over the runsite (not often you do that) before going up Abbotshall Road and further on up almost to Craigton Road before turning and dropping all the way down to the North Deeside Road, and then further down into Allan Park. The trail carried on to the river and back up via Loirsbank, and then into Deeview Road where we fell upon the beercheck. Home from here was an easy 10 minutes along the railway line. My overwhelming memory of this trail was a distinct lack of flour which made it a lot harder to follow than it might have been!

First things first - the hare had provided some hot snacks for us - sausage rolls and mini chipolatas and potato wedges (vegetarian choice I guess) and these were set upon by the pack. Very tasty they were too - thanks!! Soon the circle was called and Aids and Cheesy Cox set about the weekly punishment ritual in between breaks where we lined up either side of the railway line to allow civilian runners, walkers and cyclists to pass amidst howls of intimidation as only a hash pack can deliver.

I recall High Maintenance getting a down down for something to do with her leg, and Eveready got one too - can't remember what for. Returner Dianne had a drink - last seen on trail here 15 or more years ago, Aids introduced her by her first handle - Gold Top, but when I was running in the 90's she was known as Bog Bonker - Hippo has more details if required.

Talking of Hippo - his down-down was for his strange and elaborate comb-over that hides his growing bald patch. It should have been in recognition of his efforts at Le Tour de Yorkshire, where he and Scabby Arse (and Cock a Tool also I believe) braved some desperately bad weather on the Sportive that was run in conjunction with the pro event.

And to finish proceedings More Butt was thanked for setting the run in the usual manner. Perhaps she thought Hash Beer has secreted a small chipolata in her beer as none of it went anywhere near her lips!

I heard some talk of an On Inn - Struth was trying to raise interest in the Dutch Mill but I don't know if it went ahead or not. I decided to gather up my gear, put my bycicle clips on and start off down the railway line for home. After a few hundred yards I came across Drillbit- also on bike (though his is electric - what a cheat, eh?) along with Prickly Bush and More Butt (collecting her car from the beer stop). We trundled on, chatting happily away, into the gathering night.

Until next week,

ON ON,

SERG

WHY; Exercise, Beer, Chit Chat, Great views

So Easter weekend Hash and low numbers were expected due to the Easter challenge taking place and guess what we had?..... Low numbers! Still 20+ fronted up on a fine sunny morning at 11.00am sharp for the ever popular ex GM Ballerina`s history lesson. "What `appened in 1709?" he boomed, and then informed us of the history of the Hot Air Balloon!......

From that History you will have picked up that the first Hot Air Balloon reached 4.5 metres off the ground! This was probably straining with Ballerina inside. If they had used Toy Boy Tom it might have reached much higher!

Returning visitors A N Other and Toy Boy were welcomed and then a 50 run shirt was presented to LBS who stripped down Gay Gordon like next to his skin!

Matching orange Glasgow 1999 Nash Hash hare shirts then spoke to us filled with JC & Fifi, the latter asking for a show of hands for her ONINN. (Easier to ask for who wasn`t coming would have been easier!)

The run was a nice mixture of forest, track and open fields giving us some lovely views of the Dunechty, Aberdeenshire countryside. A huge quarry was discovered but I apologise for not noting its name! (I only volunteered to Hash Scribe half way around the run!) An award must be presented at AGPU to the Hares for providing the highest Beer check for many a year! Ballerina and Leeky Willie stress tested the structure which was a little rickety to say the least. Many smiling faces witnessed these fine two athletes scale the huge wooden lookout tower! The smiles were ready to break into laughter at any point if said scalers should fall or even funnier if the wooden tower should crash to the floor! Leeky Willie and Ballerina then proceeded to distribute the beer and softies from a great height to any prospective brave Hashers willing to catch and there weren`t many!

Finally back we then didn`t really know what to do No GM, no RA`s! But we managed something like this..

RA FIFI said

1. Walnut Brain Leeky Willie

2. The Ditcher Bog Brush (Didn`t tell his Dad he`d binned his Mums Car! on the previous ONINN)

RA Mrs T said..

3. Lost Children Hares JC & FIFI lost 50% of their offspring!

RA Ballerina said

4. Bad Marker JC having trouble laying his trail apparently)

RA Gay Gordon said..

5. Lost Property Leeky Willie (reunited with his Rugby Ball, Y fronts (modelled by Red Stripe) and red ladys knickers (modelled by Gay Gordon)

RA T Rex Cock said.

6. Double tumble Struth and visiting A N Other witnessed falling over!

RA Leeky Willie said..

7.T REX COCK Big Dick (in celebration of Dick Advocaat becoming Manager of Sunderland FC ( an advocaat down down well mango juice was the nearest colour)

RA Bruce Almighty said

8. Ambulance Cases Ballerina s Son Lewis and Leeky Willie (both had a brief visit to ARI)

9. The Visitors A N Other and Toy Boy

10. The navigator Panty Pockets (head down studying a Map and smacked her head into a tree branch!)

11. Hares JC & Fifi

So that was that. What did we learn? We didn't need a GM, (well done Ballerina), we didn`t need Hash Cash (well done Mrs T). Beer flowed nicely in the Sun presented by 6 stand in RA`s!

ONINN was splendid at JC & Fifi`s with a lovely Chilli and rice followed by Apple Strudel sat in the Sun for which a for Wooden spoon collection was soon arranged. Gay Gordon was witnessed raiding the Hash Beer box for everyone as we all sunbathed. On investigation this was later agreed to be a vicious rumour!

Great day. Well done Hares. Great fun

ONON

LEEKY WILLIE

On the year's first day of British Summer Time a glorious representation of AH3 convened in a tightly-packed car park. Little Shit informed that the day should be dedicated to the single man because it was Palm Sunday (geddit?).

The official dedication in pigeon Latin: Hodie est Palmarum, quod dedicamus ad Hashers masculum et singulos et self-manipulensis Onanisticos primate spankorum.

Aids chipped in to announce AH3 participation in a quiz in two weeks' time, and fierce cross-examination by Leeky Willy established that the answer to every question would be 'Armadillo'.

The day was dry and cloudy and the route was ok underfoot except for where it wasn't. The pack took off through open forest (but a few of us found it much easier going up the parallel road a few metres away!) and Eveready, at the top of the hill, teasingly acknowledged the day's dedication by declaring 'I'm hot'! The route continued along a generally pleasant mix of open fields, forest tracks, bits of forest and bits of road. Barbed wire crossings were provided for the relief of those with an itchy crotch. It was back into the trees for the beer stop where Fireflaps had joined the day with her two flaplets: a clever strategy of enjoying the nice bits without all that tiresome running and getting dirty. Escaping a DD for this was a clear oversight by everyone else. The route back to the car park provided the biggest obstacle of the day with a steep drop and re-climb. Those with on-wrist instrumentation recorded the distance as being around 5.5 miles.

Back in the car park, the down-downs were:

• Sir Deadmund Hillary: getting lost in the forest

• Eveready: something to do with flexibility

• Numbskull: altering his clocks twice for the change to BST and still arriving on time

• Short and Thick: for uttering the parts of the Latin verb 'Scribere' thus suggesting a knowledge of Latin based on failing his O-level.

• One-Liner: for being a Womble, found a green plastic chair in the forest and carried it back to the car park

• Eveready: for taking part in a Blonde-and-Stupid competition in Wales when only one of those adjectives can apply.

• Numbskull, Leeky Willy, Muff Diver and CheesyCox, jointly: for lack of discipline, abbreviating members' hash names

• The Penguin: token provider of blood and to remind him that it really wasn't such a good idea to rip his leg on barbed wire during run 1706

• Leeky Willy: a rebounded DD which he'd tried to foist onto Drillbit and Shit Boyfriend for sitting on the bonnet of an expensive looking Mercedes.

• Barbarella: at previous event, explaining the flour trail markers to a policeman in terms of 'laying the hash'.

• Ballerina: new shoes, which leaked beer almost as quickly as he could savour it from the sweat-soaked receptacle.

• Skinny Witch: for dreaming of running naked with Toy Boy Tom.

• Sergio for an excellent trail

After all the down-downs Sergio provided a cold barbecue (diy ham cheese rolls) in aid of the Wooden Spoon charity. This was much appreciated and the appearance of the sun at the same time must have been a sign of heavenly approval.

Thanks to all for a good day.

OnOn

Scribe: Short &Thick.

(PS - the post run saga of the car in the ditch and the massed AH3 pack heaving and sweating to remove it while Bogbrush sat in the car and smiled. Ed)

On-On: Port Errol harbour, Cruden Bay.

The Hash was near Slaines Castle, so the Hare proclaimed a theme of pirates and Dracula. And, indeed, there must have been pirates about because losses were suffered! Indeed, the Hash itself could well have been a lost cause because most of the Hashers and the Hare himself had been at Toy Boy Tom's 59.99 years party the night before, and no doubt arrived at the Hash with a certain amount of lost stamina, physical and mental!

But the losses started even before the Hash had started! Firstly, the 61 bus that some Hashers had caught to the run-site had lost power and stranded the Hashers in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately, noble Sir Deadmund (nae. Hillary) captained his good ship BMW to rescue the marooned Hashers from the roadside. We all then lost the run site, until the Hare arrived and told us where to go. We went, but then lost the Hare, who didn't.

One Liner had apparently lost Skinny Witch, parked as he was passenger-less outside a public convenience. A down-down for One Liner, not for losing Skinny, but for perversion. However, had instead Skinny demanded to be driven to the toilet? Is Skinny Witch therefore more high maintenance than High Maintenance?

The GM started the circle only to be interrupted by a pirate descending from the nearby towering sand dune uttering incomprehensible pirate words. These included instructions about 2 dots close together, which, for some us, was perhaps a bit too intellectually demanding the-morning-after-the-night-before, and that the trail started by climbing up the towering sand dune. We were then lost to the pirates merciless trail.

Where was the pirate's trail leading us? Well, to the buried treasure, of course. But it was a cruel and torturous trail.

Some were soon asked to walk the plank (aka a fallen tree across a stream). Some instead leapt the stream to the safety of freedom the other side and headed off along the trail along an old mariners route (aka railway line). But the pirate, with cunning use of two dots and loads of arrows, reigned us all back to the stream again.

We broke away and headed along the trail past an emerald island (aka football pitch) to the freedom of the forest (aka scrubby trees). But the pirate was there, and feeding us sweet viticules, we were back under his merciless demands and we meekly followed the trail, spurred on by yet more arrows, back to the stream.

All of a sudden, the dark ruins of Slains Castle appeared on the horizon, and, with mounting, trepidation, we followed the pirate's trail to its shadows.

Was the treasure to be found at this sinister place?

Yes! We found a circle containing a "B": the pirates' code for treasure (OK, pirates can't spell). Early arrivers couldn't find the treasure. The pirate despaired at their incompetence. Declaring that "B" stood for Barbarella's treasure, he unearthed bags of treasure.

At his command, us slaves of his will dragged the treasure into the very ruins of Slains Castle, where we eagerly devoured the treasure in its beer cellar, overlooking the tormented sea, and overlooked by that cunning pirate Hare.

(Downs Downs as I recall Ed.)

• BNR runners, 2 minutes after booking the tea rooms for Xmas meal - Red Stripe, Gay Gordon, Pissonya, MCB, Fire Flaps.

• Ballerina for supplying cacks ( Yorkshire slang) past the sell by date.

• Toy Boy Tom's 59.99 birthday

• Barbarella for an excellent trail, double spots, two way arrows and a list check back.

• Hillary for his heroics at slamming on the brakes to save the lost boys and girls from a long walk.

• The Penguin, Golden Shower and Cockatool for choosing the environmental bus, one than runs (or doesn't run) on fresh air. Have you ever tried to get a refund on your over 60's bus pass, see The Penguin!

• I got one as well with MCB and Pissonya, can't remember for what though. Answers on a letter to the Editor. Ed.)

Scribe

Toy Boy Tom

GM Little Shit called order at 11.00am sharp to get the show on the road. A bright dry day above witnessed a 30+ pack assemble containing many weekly stalwarts, a few not so regular and two visitors in Vacuum Cleaner and Sugar Puff who had visited us before and are known to be well travelled in Hash circles mainly Istanbul and Cambridge H3`s. Sugar Puff was in Aberdeen working undertaking a heavy lifting course which tenuously links us to the next two characters invited into the circle! Ballerina didn`t need any lifting gear to get into his brand new Black 150 run T shirt and duly stripped down to his bare torso and slipped into it without any problem whatsoever. (Well it did have an X or two in front of the Large). Next entrant not needing any lifting gear was Hare T-REX COCK! We were then force fed 6 rules that had to be followed. Can`t remember them all but he barked them out as if barking instructions to his beloved Sunderland FC. Not sure who took the most notice Aberdeen H3 or Sunderland FC but I feel it must have been just us as the Macam`s lost 0-4 and sacked their Manager the very next day!

The run was a good one with a mixture of off road, small road and main road trail. The Pack got a bit fragmented but eventually all found the sweety stop under the bridge and the beer stop. T-REX COCK was witnessed to fall pretty heavily on some tin sheet and barbed wire as he scaled the Bridge and drew blood for the cause. (He wasn`t the only one see Down Downs below)

1. Dodgy Sunglass seller - Hippo

2. Directionally challenged - The Duchess

3. The Car Crash - One Liner (nearly wiped out a number of AH3 members as they drove off skiing!)

4. The Hospital - Bin Liner (one of the many who popped into see Drillbit, completely unaware Numskull was also resident)

5. Et tu Brute - Bin Liner (Tonto educated us all in Latin and highlighted Bin Liner`s Latin faux pas on his T shirt promptly corrected by Leeky Willie using a large felt tipped pen!)

6. Geographically challenged - Goat Wrestler (Lost a confrontation with a GPS apparently!)

7. Highway Maintenance - Muff Diver (A quite touching gift donated by Leeky Willie acquired at the side of the M74 to remind him daily of his lovely Wife!)

8. Boobs make me smile - Gay Gordon, Mingin (GG having a great big smile as he changed his Boobs shirt with Mearns Hasher Mingin..She`s alright, She`s alright, She`s not that flat chested and She`s alright!)

9. Lost Horn - Leeky Willie (accused of losing the Horn but proved to be untrue as it appeared from Ballerina`s pants!)

10. The Racers - Leeky Willie, Mingin (witnessed racing across the last field carrying all sorts of bags which were thrown and abandoned as the race hotted up !)

11. The Visitors - Sugar Puff & Vacuum Cleaner

12. Mother`s Day - Skinny, High Maintenance, Struth, Egg Foo, Red Stripe, Fifi (all nicely presented with a nice flower for the occasion by Ballerina who then toasted them as MILFs! whatever that means?)

13. Non Starters - Pissonya, MCB Bin Liner ( Strong rumour heard was that Pissonya was pregnant and will be in the Mother’s Day parade next year!)

14. Bloody Hashers - Muff Diver & The Penguin (all drew blood on this reckless and dangerous sport!)

15. Hare - T REX COCK

And so another fun filled day drew to a close. Well done to T REX COCK for his magnificent effort as a SOLE Hare. The ON INN at Sangara (T REX COCK HEN HOUSE ) cannot go without mention. It is one of my favourite ONINN venue`s on AH3 and they always drum up a superb presentation of food. This visit was Lasagne and Salad followed by 2 foot tall flaming Crepe Suzette..

Thanks to you both from all at AH3

Great Day, Great Food, Great Company

ONON

Leeky Willie

PS

A Quiz question to be discussed in a future circle SANGARA. What does it mean ?

PPS

Poyet sacked by Sunderland - Gus Poyet has been sacked by relegation-threatened Sunderland, leaving the Black Cats racing against time to appoint a replacement for the last nine games of the season

PPPS

Sorry for delay....been working away and Struth had me cardboard with notes in her Car. Leeky Willy

OnOn: Tyrebagger Hill up track opposite Marshalls.

Bright sunny morning with no snow and ice, by Aberdeen standards, warm!

A collection of cars assembled at the run site along with a select few Hashers who used busses to get to the run site, well nearly. The Penguin had a senior moment and decided he knew where the run site was and did not need to check either a map or directions, so he took the bus to the top of Tyrebagger to the car parks there. The Penguin was rescued from the summit by a fellow hasher who had also had the same senior moment, T-Rex Cock was looking for the same Carpark. God only knows how they made it together when you couldn't do it on their own: err, let's not go there!

Students Winnie the Shit & Drag-on also had a bus adventure from Aberdeen. Having boarded the bus at 10:30 in Aberdeen they decided to ask the bus driver to let them know when to get off. The bus driver replied "This bus does not go there" Winnie the Shit winnied himself and Drag-on collapsed with a geographical uncertainty attack. The bus drive came to the rescue when he realized that he was on the wrong bus and in fact did stop opposite Marshalls after all. Miraculously they made it to the run site as the pack was leaving.

RA Aids called the hash to order and presumably having a senior moment himself assigned the scribe duties to " a reliable person capable writer" . That was I relief, I managed to avoid being the scribe again! I was then handed the vest and horn.

A 50 Run T-shirt award was given to Comatose for being able to stretch out 50 runs over 15 years. See you next quarter!

Aids called the Hare, Sharnie, into the circle to brief the pack on the run. Sharnie was diligently performing her hash cash duties at the car. Aids proceeded to give the circle an executive summary of the coming run. As with all executive summaries it was lacking in facts, missed most of the major points, interspersed with drivel, was of no earthly use, but filled in a couple of minutes. The pack listened intently to the whole executive summary: Giving their undivided attention and lapped up all the information.

Sharnie then came into the circle to tell the pack about the details of the run. The pack's attention span was well past its sell-by date. The pack was now breaking down into groups, muttering about where the OnInn was; if anyone had found what they had lost the week before; or looking for a good place to go for a quick pre-run pee.

Three spots and you're on! OnOn is that way! And off we went, bounding across the Carpark up an overgrown track and up to the first obstacle; a chain across the track at just lower than waist height. Most Hashers went around the side but CheesyCox decided to jump over the chain. Bit of a half-hearted effort and landed half way with a more than pained expression on his face and bulging eyes as a result of his testicles having been slammed into the base of his brain.

"OnOn!" The pack ran up the track and took a sharp left into the trees and up a hill. The pack picked its way through the trees loosing and re-gaining the trail a number of times. Lost it again and re-gained it again, lost it again and then we found a check. All over the place!

The trail went left between fields. On trail? Off trail! We passed the walkers who were at their first rest stop after about 100 meters. On over a road and into the woods and another Off Trail! Followed by a sharp left uphill through the woods and along the crest of the hill, and into a field where the pack dispersed like gas molecules in a vacuum. Never did find out if it was a check or where the trail went but someone eventually picked up trail going in the opposite direction across a field, across a stream and up a wooded slope and to a check as we entered the SRUC campus. The pack malingered around the campus long enough for me to get a degree in Haggis husbandry, Numbskull received a master’s in "wandering around aimlessly in the country" and the OnOn call to the right interrupted the packs studies.

OnOn through clear cut forest with churned up ground reminiscent of no-mans-land.

Smiler decided to take a closer look at the ground and ended up doing a press-up to avoid tasting it too.

On up through the woods and passed the front running walkers. Across a road and up a track through the trees. Another series of: Off trail! Are You? OnOn!

F**k, lost trail again. Followed by: Off trail! "Are You?" OnOn! F**k, lost trail again! Cockatool appeared on the left of the trail and promptly disappeared to the right of the trail. The trail continued and eventually took us to: Off trail! "Are You?" OnOn! F**k, lost trail again. The pack

got to the golf course and really lost it there. But did finally find flour just in time for: Off trail! "Are You?" OnOn! F**k, lost trail again! Cockatool appeared to the right of the trail and disappeared to the left of the trail; presumably he is running around looking for his brain which he lost a long time ago.

The pack of front runners started to dwindle as the checks and of trails took their toll on legs and enthusiasm.

OnOn through the forest, up hill and down dale, and up one fiercely steep bank. Up a valley to a checkback! Obviously, the checkback was a mistake so we went straight on and to the right. Surprise! Surprise! We did not find flour! But surprise surprise, Red Stripe found a pair of very high

heeled shoes and a number of other items of ladies attire. Must have been from when the hares were having a frolic while setting the run. Red Stripe exclaimed "they are too big for me" obviously referring to the shoe size and not the height of the heels. Gay Gordon looked to be about to do a Cinderella impression as the remains of the pack ran off, off trail.

After a ridiculously stupid distance off flour some of the pack began to think "maybe that was a check back?" And headed back through the forest looking for trail and the tail runners.

No one else in sight, then, with the sound of breaking branches and cursing T-Rex Cock appears tiptoeing through the undergrowth.

"Is that flour! Yes! OnOn!" 50 meters later we were at another check! Only one way from here. Found flour and T-Rex Cock exclaims " F**k, I was here 15 minutes ago!" We ran on to the beer check with a few: Off trail! Are You? OnOn! F**k, lost trail again and Off trail! Are You? OnOn! F**k, lost trail again.

Tried to work out at the beer check who was still MIA. Red Stripe, Gay Gordon, Cockatool, Ballerina, CheesyCox; presumably dividing up the items of ladies attire between them. They all appeared in just as the beer check was walking off.

On in!

At the run site the pack refreshed themselves with drinks and nibbles while Hippo distributed soup, rolls cup cakes for a consideration. (A big thanks from Hippo, raised £163 for his 5 Peaks Team. Ed)

Ballarina was huddled in a corner clasping an empty soup pan wiping it out with pieces of bread, he looked like a bear with a honey pot. This pan was not for sharing!

I congratulated Winnie the Shit and Drag-on for actually making it to the run by bus. I suggested the two young lads should maybe do a bit more running as they were close to the walkers than the runners and that they could join CheesyCox and I running at Hazlehead next Saturday. "Where's Hazlehead? Is it near bridge of Dee?" Asked Drag-on. "No, it's not." I replied. "Oh so it's near Bridge

of Don?" Asked Drag-on. "No, it's sort of in the middle, near Queens Rd." I replied. "Don't know where Queens Rd is." Said Drag-on. After a short pause I added "Hazlehead is near Fort William" Drag-on's reply "Ah, OK!". (Can the hash committee please ensure Drag-on never sets a run!!!) (He can assist Golden Shower lay his next trail. Take note Head Hare! Ed)

Aids called the circle!

Ballarina entered the circle clasping his pan by both handles and proceeded to down down the contents, gagged and throw the contents over his head but unfortunately just missed Cockatool.

Aids charged a devoted mother who had been at home worrying about her lost child.. But all was not lost, the child answered her phone! "Where are you my dear little darling, I am so worried about you?" I'm upstairs in my bedroom Mummy. Down down to Red Stripe for dedication!!

Aids charges CheesyCox for being ungrateful after he'd failed to thank Aids for going looking for him and Pissonya after they were lost in a snow storm back in the late 1600's.

CheesyCox was also charged with dedication to the hash after he went down to taste the flour and it turned out to be bird shit, probably a Great Tit.

CheesyCox charged Red Stripe & Gay Gordon with disturbing a potential rape scene after finding a set of women's clothing on the run. Down down to the detective inspectors.

Cockatool charged some reprobate with being a slow drinker for having one for the road at 5pm on Saturday, after watching the rugby match and did not arrive home until 1am Sunday morning.

An announcement from Numbskull (On Sex) Thanked the hash for the enthusiasm with which they had embraced his upcoming go-karting event on Saturday 7th March. Looks like he will be the only attendee!

Ballerina throw a backpack into the circle and politely requested Cockatool to take his shit away; after leaving his hash trail setting bag in his car yesterday. Cockatool retrieved his bag and put it by his feet at the edge of the circle.

The hare, Sharnie, was called into the circle to receive complements criticism (constructive of course!) general consensus was " a good run" and unanimously voted best run in March 2015, to date. Congratulations on such a magnificent achievement!!

Next weeks run? Twizzle at Loch of Skene. Sure to will be a short Sunday walk.

The circle dispersed. Hippo started to to load up his van with logs from around the car park. Cockatool deserted his bag, which was now in the middle of the car park. While Cockatool was busy finding the biggest, wettest , most rotten log he could possibly find; Gay Gordon was driving out of the Carpark and drove over Cockatool's bag. Well, it was a trail setting bag full of flour so Gay Gordon was on trail!

Cockatool returned with a large rotten log and was promptly inform it did not meet specifications. Take it away and bring a proper log! Which he did! I drove off while Cockatool was rummaging around in the forest looking for a log. Cockatool came scampering after the car after delivering his log.

OnInn Bucksburn Manor.

Apologies for not attending but wanted to drop my car and go and watch the rugby. Hope you had a good time there.

OnOn!

Scribe

Golden Shower

The day after Valentines and the GM's birthday dawned dry, clear and bloody windy. Well I think it was. It was definitely windy and I do not recall rain or soggy feet but I am writing this some 10 days later and that is a long time to be sure about the details. In fact the issue of recalling detail may well impact on the recounting of this Hash in its entirety, I did have to be reminded to actually write the scribe. However I will soldier on and we will see what transpires.

So we did meet at the Brig O'Dee and we were a goodly number, especially as it was in town again and it was the half term holiday. (I have no idea why that impacts on hasher numbers, it probably doesn't much if at all but it was half term that I do know) I am also quite sure that we were told that this being the Valentine's run all the checks were heart shaped and that we were promised further romantic inducements on the run. Not over much red being worn, as is the tradition on Valentines runs, so perhaps that others have remembering issues too?

There was a walkers trail, which now serves and growing proportion of the Hash, as well as the main run which in itself was offering both a medium and a long option. There was a pre run down-down but who that was awarded too has long gone.

The pack completed a circuit of the retail park and back to the start by means of the riverside path, then over the river and along to the new Dandara housing development. Debated dropping in on my hairdresser and avoiding the rest of the run as it was bloody windy but could not remember his address so had to stick with the run. By now we were headed to Tollohill Wood, which is up the hill and therefore increasing the wind chill factor, and to the kissing gate. How apt for Valentines.

Then round the wood and to war memorial that is not a war memorial and then I split from pack so the lack of detail at this point is because I never knew, not that I have forgotten that also. No I do not recall why I split from the pack, it just happened. Life does it seems.

I do know the route I took from there and did enjoy Bin Liner's company on that route. Those that did the long option said that it was just the business. Back at the Brig O'Dee the walkers said that they were hard pushed to keep up with Golden Shower and therefore found themselves back at the cars somewhat ahead of the pack and having not seen the beer check. However they did have access to the gluwein so they did alright out of it.

Once all were back there was the circle and there were down-downs awarded but I have no idea no to whom. I did know at the time they were awarded but it would appear that information has not been retained for later recall. And yet the world does not seem to have fallen off its axis so maybe not that significant a set of data after all.

I do know that I had a good time, which the run was clearly set, that nobody got lost, that everybody got some exercise and good company was duly enjoyed by all - now that is Hashing!

On-On

Scribe:

Cinders

THE 1700 RUN!!

I was delighted, no - privileged, to be chosen by Little Shit to be the scribe for this prestigious affair, AH3's 1700 run.

Shit.

Let's start at the beginning: three hours earlier I left home and made my way to the Northern Hotel for this one. I arrived to see Olymprick and Bruce Almighty enjoying a small tipple (Adnams for Olymprick - a mature choice). Its All Because and I settled for coffee. Slowly the revellers made their way downstairs and we boarded the bus for destination A. There's always a few stragglers - Struth, and Cheesy Cox in particular, but for different reasons.

Off we went. A bottle of port provided by Cock a Tool did the rounds and was soon rolling around the bus floor, empty. Nice actually. It became clear at this point that Cheesy was, shall we say, a bit under the weather. Not long after, the bus turned off the A96 and pulled up in a quiet road: houses one side and fields (lots of them) the other. We all got ready, then discovered we were ahead of the hares so we were kept on the bus for what seemed like ages. That's because it was ages. The mood was lightened a bit when Hughie Blaaaargh offered to show Fireflaps "something soft and disappointing" in his room later. This may or may not have happened - I could not say.

Finally the hares arrived, with RA Aids and wife, and we were let off. The youngsters then made a nuisance of themselves ramming what little snow that was left down each other’s tops and shorts. Cock a Tool narrowly avoided getting run over as in his excitement he forgot the Green Cross Code - naughty boy!

I was too distracted to recall much of the preamble but I'm sure it was the usual 3 spots and you are on, mind the horses etc etc. There may or may not have been a pre run down down. Eventually we started running. It was cold in the wind, have I mentioned that? 2 fields and 2 barbed wire fences later I was persuaded by More Butt to part with the Scribe's jacket as she was so cold. More fields followed, (including a small horse trailer in one of them - not too small to lock Cock a Tool in though, and others too perhaps????). The fields got wetter, the ditches wider (too wide for some!). There was more ice, and the wind whistled across the flatlands of Blackburn.

A small wood gave us some relief. I plodded through this with Gay Gordon and Red Stripe. More fields, more barbed wire.

Wind. Cold. Shiggy enough to wrestle in - MCB getting rolled in it I noticed as I "passed by on the other side" (bet you didn't expect a biblical reference, eh?). However this was about to change. Big time.

We came across a road, the old road to Inverness I presume, and we headed south, and up. I passed Audrey stopping to take a photo west across the flatlands - perhaps badlands would be a better name. Under the main road and up some more. Cheesy was on his knees being given grief by his peers, but I was not getting involved. More up and we were in the lower part of Tyrebagger, protected from the wind by trees but with no idea where we were going. Except we were going up. Onto a larger track, I saw Cinders running away from the marked trail: she wasn't for turning (!!) however, and I pressed on and a few minutes later broke out of the trees onto the icy wastes at the top of Tyrebagger hill. The folly was in sight, and ye gods! - the whisky mac stop was there, not a moment too soon.

Tonto and Muff Diver poured drinks as we sheltered from the worst, shivering. I turned round to see Septic Sporran sheltering amongst a line of bushes. Seconds later Hippo emerged from behind the same bushes after relieving himself. Hmmmm.

At long last the trail led downwards, and I passed Tuneless tiptoeing down the slippery track that led away from the folly. Onto a logging road and a check. Cinders emerged out of the trees and we caught sight of hounds in the distance - too far away to hear their calls. We followed. They weren't on trail. We did a big unnecessary loop. Back to the check, shit. Some chose to play in the snow (Leaky for one) until on on was called and off we went again, Little Shit helping harriettes over a wall barbed wire "combination" fence but leaving me to struggle over on my own. More down, more fences, and finally some tarmac, leading into the metropolis of Blackburn and the warm haven of the bus - destination B at last! Note - no mention of a beer check - this seemed to get lost along the way, and I'm really not sure what happened to it.

First priority - warm dry clothes, and the back seat squad were quick to pull off their wet stuff and, oh, the joy (of dry socks)!! I could see that Sharnie had set up a picnic in the car park, so didn't dilly dally. Straight off the bus and straight into a ham filled roll.

Unfortunately the FRB's had polished off the sausage rolls but never mind.

Aids got the circle underway, and ably assisted by Cock a Tool and Septic Sporran proceeded to punish the guilty in the traditional manner. To spare their blushes I won't list the miscreants and their crimes here. Not because I think they'd mind, but because I can't remember them. That's advancing age for you. I can normally tag a fair number of them on a regular run without having to resort to pen and paper - you could probably take a guess too, and not be far wrong: Fireflaps and Red Stripe to start with. Cheesy Cox and Eveready were in there too. And there were more, many more. Not Numbskull though - no, he was 500 miles away although he would have probably walked that distance (and 500 more!) to join in if time had allowed.

We could have stayed longer, but already a number of the weaker souls had retreated to the Leys Hotel to warm up (presumably) so a quick down down for the hares and it was back on the bus for a sociable and mercifully short ride back to the Northern Hotel, in time to sample Cock a Tool's fine real ales in preparation for the evening "do".

Ahh, but the evening's another story, and it can only be told by one who saw it through to the death.

ON ON,

SERG

(A trail of tragedies. Ed)

The GM welcomed the pack to the 1699 AH3 Hash. That's despite a wise owl - well, flightless old bird - well, The Penguin actually - believing that the 1700 was a few weeks ago. But the GM had pronounced, and so it must the 1699. Besides, I don't want to have missed the 1700 Hash celebrations! So this is the report of the 1699 AH3 Hash.

Walking to the 1699 Hash, things looked good. For once, I'd be able to imbibe at the beer stop and in the Circle without offending PC correct drink drive laws. Prickly Bush was the Hare, so it was bound to be a good trail.

OK, it was snowing, so, after the GM had told the gathered Circle some Hash correct, but maybe PC incorrect jokes, the Hare showed us what a blob of white flour looked like on snow. Quite clear.

Well for most. Near the beginning of the trail, the pack circled about a bit looking for the trail, but in the end Watzoff and the Scribe were the only ones left. Where had the pack gone? We checked every road, but all flour petered out. Maybe we should have gone to SpecSavers. Things were no longer looking good: Not only missing a good trail, but also that much look-forwarded to beer at the beer stop! Tragedy!

However, surely we had followed more of the trail than Olymprick and Bruce Almighty. By chance, they found themselves in a pub! But, things were not looking too good. It was 10 minutes before opening time, so no beer! Tragedy!

But there is justice in the world. Knowing the licencing laws, Olymprick became a resident and beer served to said residents before opening time without offending justice.

Yes, there is justice in the world. By chance, Watzoff and I found the pack on the old Deeside railway line, so a good trail and beer at the beer stop enjoyed without offending justice.

And surely we had followed more of the trail than Cheesy Cox and Pissonya, who were never seen again! Tragedy? Follow the white flour, not the other white stuff!

The following space is for those of you with 20:20 vision to scribe an account of that first part of the trail that your visually impaired Scribe missed:

After that, the trail took in the scenic spots of Seafield - the frozen Coopers Pond (first time I've been here. Ed) and Johnston Gardens, and on to the beer stop, with a guilt free beer tasting particularly good in glorious sunshine reflecting off the snow covered grass.

But before then, Scribe had a chance to repay fate which had kindly lead him and Watzoff to the pack. After watching a Sainsbury's delivery van skidding in the snow unable to drive away from the gutter, the Scribe lent on it and pushed it away with his left arm. Shouldn't judge a hero by his clothing, to paraphrase a wise saying The Hare raised the standard of Hashing by not only successfully shepherding the pack around a trail hidden by the snow, with no injuries and only 2 losses (are they losses?), but also for providing hot soup and sausage rolls at its end!

Justice was done in the Circle by the RA who admonished the sinners with down-downs; the details of which shall remain unreported because the Scribe was busy enjoying another guilt free beer!

(I can remember a couple.. Ed.)

High Maintenance - getting a lift from a passing motorist.

Olymprick - spent most of the trail sitting in the pub with Bruce Almighty.

( A special thanks for Prickly Bush and her two assistants for putting on excellent soup, rolls and cakes, I hope you all stumped up for good charity effort. Ed)

On! On! to next weekend's 1700!

Scribe: Toy Boy Tom.

(PS - A note from the lost ones. Ed)

Just to give you all peace of mind: myself and Pissonya made it back alive at approx 1.55pm after what was possibly the worst case of getting lost in Hash history! Apologies if any worry was caused!

(It used to be called a quick bonking the woods and losing track of time, young 'n's eh! Ed)

PS. always nice to get feedback. Ed.

Toy Boy Tom,

Teacher's pet. Actually completing a scribe assignment within the same month as the run.

Why should we have gone to Specsavers? It's in the wrong direction. Perhaps this some sort of cultural reference?

Some spelling mistakes.

Obvious signs of nascent alcoholism (dwelling on DD laws and guilt).

Some improvement this term, but could do better.

The GM has obviously let his new access to the website go to his head. Now self-styled editor, new-speak for censorship. Appalling. Je suis Charlie.

On Back,

Pigiron

Scribe: Toy Boy Tom

Robbie Burns Run: Wear tartan

OnOn: Bridge of Feugh, Banchory

On Inn: Scott Skinners

I was nobbled by Little Shit for still talking as he called the circle to order.

Some news on the 1700 run weekend which reminded me to book a room in the Northern Hotel. (should be a great weekend. Ed)

I was presented with a 666 run gilet and a pre-run down down. Thank you very much. (well done Drillbit, Chieftain of the puddin' race. Ed)

Run Description:

I had seen the excellent photographs on Facebook taken the previous day by Red Stripe and Gay Gordon while setting the run and when commenting on them they scared me when they said they had been out for five hours. The weather had been so nice they had just 'wandered'!

Bloody Hell how long was this run going to be! (Try short cutting like the rest of us. Ed)

Normally we start up the tarmac road uphill alongside the Feugh for mile, not this time. "On On is that way" pointing to the corner of the car park!

20 metres only and the first barbed wire fence and the first of the casualties. (tricky beasts these hares. Ed) On On through a small wood then more barbed wire! We don't come this way because of this. The farmer must have had barbed wire stringing lessons from his Gt Granddad who had been at the Somme. It was definitely to keep people out or his prize cows in! (Nothing worse that someone trying to get into your prize cows. Ed). The more athletic vaulted over while with much indecision the remaining 75% debated either the wire or a mile and a bit around to catch up. (T-Rex Cock paced up and down the edge of the field for a good 10 minutes assessing the height of the fence at various divots. Didn't help! Ed)

After deciding which would hurt the most everybody chose the fence and more casualties. Bugger we still have to get out of this field and the gate is not where we are going. Fortunately some large stones assisted the more challenged including me out of the war zone.

The run continued uphill using woods East of the Feugh that we rarely visit because of the barbed wire barriers. Once on top it meandered through very pretty wooded countryside. Fortunately a rise in temperature overnight had melted the ice off the trail and made underfoot a lot less treacherous than it had been. I'm not sure what went on the run on because I ended up at the back still puffing and coughing like a steam train with poor old Ballerina doing a good imitation. (I think we may have to put him down, anyone know a good vet? Ed)

The second half of the run was downhill towards the river and took us to a fishing hut and the beer check with clootie dumpling type cake (with currants and very nice)

Red Stripe then said either take the road back to the car park or the more interesting route along the river (and more barbed wire) Most of us took the river route as normally it's full of irate fishermen and fields full of cows and we are not there very often. They had more sense and were ensconced somewhere warmer.

Down Downs:

Thomas finally named Winnie the Shit after wearing a white furry bear hat and a kilt (apron) back to front with a sporran growing out of his arse.

Olga AKA Pissonya presented with one of Aids old 400 run tee shirt that doesn't fit him anymore. (Fat bastard. Ed)

Best "See You Jimmy Hat": Eveready and Drillbit winning with hairier hats beating off another six or so.

Blood count: 8 casualties after the battle of Rhindbuckie Wood. Ballerina, Cheesy Cox, Gay Gordon, Goat Wrestler, Penguin and more I can't remember

Numbskull for shortcutting to the car park and becoming entangled in barbed wire just 20 metres from the beer wagon and nobody going to his aid.

The Penguin and others that I can't remember whose names and crimes are lost in history.

The hares for an excellent run (Red Stripe and Gay Gordon. Ed). Believe it was 8 km long. Enjoyed it thoroughly except for that 5 strand barbed wire fence!

Scribe:

Drillbit

The opening ceremony, forming a circle, started just after 11:00 hrs and the RA asked around if there were any new visitors. Mhairi Meston (Hash Handle - Mingin. Ed) stepped forward as a new potential member. She ran with the MH4 but as she now lives in Aberdeen would like to join the AH3.

There were awards issued to Red Stripe (150 runs sweaty vest. Ed) and Numbskull for X-hundred runs (700 runs bum bag. Ed) with the AH3. As the shirts had to be worn next to the skin, Red Stripe stripped and displayed a beautiful tattoo on her backside. Thanks for the view.

Unfortunately nobody expected that and therefore no pictures were taken.

Thereafter, the run started. It was set through back alleys, lovers’ lanes and parks to Hazelhead and back ending up for a beer-stop at the carpark next to Johnstone Gardens. From there it was not far to the On Inn.

At the back of the Club is a large open field were the thirsty pack could get the Mulled wine and other refreshments and also some delicious sandwiches prepared by the hare herself.

The end ceremony, another circle, several runners were treated on the famous cocktails for their sins or other mysterious reasons.

Eventually the hares were ordered to come into the circle and The Penguin received a birthday card and a cake from Roger me More. Than the singing started with a variety of the "Hare's song" which lasted at least 20 minutes. For the text see below.

Hare's Song (The Mayor Of Bayswater's Daughter)

(Tune The Ashgrove)

And the hairs, and the hairs,

And the hairs on her dicky di do

Hung down to her knee.

One black one, one white one,

And one with a bit of shite on,

And one with a fairy light on

To show us the way.

Scribe: Dutch Cap