Scribes

Run: 1368   Date: Sunday 19th October 2008   Hares: Megan & Nipples    Scribe: Toy Boy Tom

A weather window opened for the Hash at Banchory Business Park on an otherwise wintery day.  But too late for the Hares, who’d laid the trail in the morning in the rain, poor things.  Still, it proves that the sun shines on the righteous?  For the Hashers, righteous fellows and fellowesses they are, picked-up discarded bags of flour they found unrighteously strewn along the trail (well, 2 bags anyway!).  Claims by the Hares in the circle that the bags were from the wrong supermarket may have been quick-thinking but only resulted in the inevitable: down-downs for wasting such a valuable commodity! 

As the big hand on Sergio’s watch reached 12, the Hash started promptly (yes, on time - the little hand was on 11, not 12!) and the Hashers set off, fears that most of the flour was on Megan’s jacket rather than on the ground proved false – just showing that Nipples has a better flour laying technique than Megan – well, naturally, Nipples is a bloke! 

Some were inspired along the dots of flour by the intrigue of the trail, some by the thought that this cannot be another back-check, others by the thought of the beer stop and others by Puss-in-Boots saying that she was going to strip!   After a tantalising pause, Puss-in-Boots finished both the inspiration and her sentence by adding that she was going to strip her front door!

To the beer stop, where all complemented the Hares on a well-laid trail along the paths and boardwalks of Crathes Castle.  Fortunately, balance was provided by Bruce Almighty when he arrived mouthing what a b***** terrible trail it had been! 

A pause before the circle commenced to enable T-Rex to arrive, smiling broadly.  Not quite sure what he’d been up to in the forest but he had been too late to join the beer stop.  Beer – the point of the run - was something that had to be explained to Puss-in-Boots as she supped coffee in the circle.  Followed by a down-down, of beer of course, for that! 

The weather window started to close as the circle finished, and the car park was soon deserted leaving the solitary figure of T-Rex, silhouetted against the grey sky of scurrying clouds, can in hand, oblivious to the strengthening wind blowing the trees to 45 degrees, righteously enjoying the beer he omitted at the beer stop!  A Hasher through-and-through!

Tom Pates