Scribes 1984

0050 - Sun 01 Apr 1984 - Aberdeen - Hares: Wild Local - Scribe: Graham Barthorpe, Eakring H3


Grand Master: Graham Barthorpe

Joint Master: Keith Croft

Hon Sec : Glenys Smith

Hash Cash : Janet Newton

Hash Horn : Nigel Robinson


We set off in two cars on Friday, Smiths and Barthorpes in one, Janet and Sharon (Sharnie) in the other. We gave Sharon (Sharnie) in her model T half an hour start, expecting to pass them somewhere near Doncaster. How wrong can you be, Snow and blizzards withstanding, we never saw the pair of them again save for a brief interlude in Innerleithen (a compulsory check).

When we arrived in Aberdeen early Saturday afternoon the two Harriettes had been there long enough to consume about seven pints of bevvy each and a cow pie a la Desperate Dan.

Saturday night was ceilidh time, with some predictable and not so predictable fancy dress. Yours truly G.M. decided to look Australian, corks and all, but was more than embarrassed, and in mortal fear of a fat lip to discover no less than three examples of the real thing 8'6" in both directions.

Five Hash Masters were present, namely Aberdeen (of course) Edinburgh, East Grinstead, Eakring and Jakarta. George Strachen (The Penguin), the G.M. from Jakarta, did a detour to pull in Aberdeen on his way to Interhash in Sydney later this month. Now tell me Retford is a long way to go. Can't imagine what bar takings were like Saturday night, but if it's some indication the landlord donated four bottles of spirit as raffle prizes!!

Sunday, runday. A couple of Down Down sbefore we start for good measure and then all 180 away in a noisy melee. Eakring numbers were increased by two on the Sunday when we were joined by Paul and Kaye. A quick burst down the road and out into the country. We soon came to a bottle neck when the trail followed a narrow path along a burn. Like lambs to the slaughter we followed the Edinburgh vicar away from this, only to find that what looked like an innocent meadow was in fact marsh land ankle deep with water. At least at this point we were running through clean water. Then it was uphill and into some lovely woodland, when somehow or other the female members of the party lost all contact with the main Hash. It must have been half an hour before we accidently stumbled across this pack of wet, smelly, black things clawing their way out of the wood. Good job we had tied balloons to the Eakring mob or we would never have known which were ours. Eventually made it back to the pub for more Down Downs, food and boat races, Said our sad farewells about 3,30 and were home in time for bed about 11.30.

On the way back home again we stopped at a pub just outside Newcastle for leg stretch and drink. The conversation with the locals went something like this;

“Been away for the week-end, then?”


Where've ya been?”


“Aberdeen? Lovely!......... What the 'ell for?”

“A run.”

“........... A what?”

“A run.”

“Bloody 'ell! How long did that take?”

“Oh, about an hour an' alf.”

“What did ya do then?”

“Have a drink and come home.”

Long pause.....

“Have ya been certified?”

(Moves to a discreet distance and starts playing with the fruit machine).

The sideways glances tell it all.