Scribes 1986

ABERDEEN*HASH* HOUSE* HARRIERS:

G.M.'s Therese/ Howard Roger

ON SEC Ronnie Robb

R.A. Karen Polson

HASH BEER Mick Stump

HEAD HARE Dave Wood

HASH CASH John Carter

EDITHARE lan regen

HASHEET 165

9 JUNE 1986

RECEDING HARELINE

RUN NO.

170 TONTO & JERRY POTTER JUNE 16

171 PINK PANTHER & ALISON JUNE 23

172 ROSS & TORTOISE JUNE 30

173 JULIA & DAVID FYFE JULY 7

174 FIFI & DAVE BUCKLEY JULY 14

175 MR. & MRS. RATS JULY 21

176 TROPERS JULY 28

177 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE

OIL PRICE RISES

NUMBSKULL GETS BACK IN PRINT

Now that the oil price has risen a little, Shell have been able to buy me my own little word processor. It's called a DEC VAX 8600. So we ought to be back to the usual high standard of hasheet copy to which we have all become accustomed since I took over the job of Edithare.

Another benefit is that I can again type in all the drivel, which has been impossible during the past few weeks, and which you have all missed a great deal. (What a load o’ bullshit - ex. Ed.).

MOAN GROAN DEPARTMENT

Since last week's run, when multi-coloured shiggy was thick in the air, a number of complaints have been received (actually only one), about the permanent nature of some of the dyes involved. Apparently, food colourings do a better job than poster colour. Our complainant has pointed out that if things carry on in this vein, then he (and his family) will have to keep a separate set of clothes on hand just for hash meets. This will, of course, make him very different from the rest of us, and therefore we all extend our great sympathy and support to his cause.

HASH CASH

Wishes to remind everyone that the $5 annual membership is now due for 1986/87. (Stupid machine won't produce a pound sign). It is also worth informing any new members that the subscription is due after completion of three runs. This gets you a drink after the run (or before if you are lucky), the services of an excellent committee, lots of possibilities to attend superbly organised activities at home and abroad, shiggy, bonking and lots more besides. Well worth the money, so well done and long live Chancellor J.C... By the way, I want my money you bastard.

HEAD HARE

Is still in need of hares to set runs throughout the summer. On average, you should be setting a run for every 6 to 10 runs that you complete. It's not difficult, and the Head Hare is there to help you, so start plantin' floor 'i the grun.

HASH PARTY

Tortoise's leaving party will be held 20:00 hrs Friday July 4 at the Northern Hotel, Great Northern Road. Entertainment (?) will be provided by the AUCHTEBY BAND (Selwyn & Co.). All invited, dress casual. P.S., he's going to Jakarta.

ON SEC

Wishes to summarise the forthcoming events throughout the summer. Further details are available, so just ask the appointed organiser or the On Sec, Ronnie Robb himself.

SUMMARY OF FORTHCOMING EVENTS

ELGIN 100th - 21/22 June, £12, see Ronnie Robb.

SKYE MUSIC FESTIVAL - 28/29 June, see Selwyn.

ESSEX 50th RUN - 28/29 June, £12, see Ronnie Robb.

ISLE OF MULL RAFT RACE - 19/20 July, barn dance, raft race, ceilidh, Hash run

and hill walk (phew!). See J.C. or Ally Thompson.

COMMONWEALTH HASH 86 - 1-4 August, the event of the year, £30 all in. Beer,

food, accommodation, transport, entertainment, T-shirts, magazines etc. etc.. Give your names and cheques to Ronnie Robb while places are still left.

GLASGOW 50th RUN- 16/17 August, £12.50, see Ronnie Robb.

MAGAZINES

Interhash Magazines, Hasher International and Hash Directories are available from the ON-SEC right now.

DISCOUNT

10% discount is still available from Running North, 2 South Mount Street upon production of this rag.

Run 168

Hatton of Fintray

Billed as The Wild Local's 150th run. But it wasn't, but it was, and next week is his 149th (???), I'd hate to have a Hasher for an accountant.

Down downs to:

Ronnie for being nearly first back last week, and to

Jeanette for not being JC.

Large volumes of technicolour shiggy in evidence, Tortoise even trying to respray Pink Panther's car to match her outfit.

Over to the hares and On-On.

Very few escaped the attentions of the free-lance decorators at the first check, where most of the pack ran straight off up a false trail, which was followed quickly by the first back check, the second back check, the third back check.....

What a bunch of perverts. At one point the run was held up by a jumping sheep, which appeared to be panicking in case Hamish was around. But he wasn't, and neither was Sula. Far be it from me to put two and two together, Walter was though and was heard pining for a sheep called Matilda. There were strong rumours that a bull had jumped a fence to escape a horny Hasher (Eric was heard to say that he "didn't want to get personally involved" - with a bull?) How I wish that that was all, but it wasn't. Before the run had even started the Fergie’s were observed parked up in a lay-by, err, um, 'scantily clad'. They protested innocence, but now I know why they are called 'lay-byes'. As for Dave Robb, offering cans of Pepsi to little boys if they'd help him get washed!

Well where were we. Oh yes, at the third back check - a farmyard, where the current Hashit discovered that what looked like sheep sh-- certainly didn't smell like it. On some more and JC finally arrived, refusing to divulge who had bitten him on the nose but assuring us (?) that it hadn't been a human.

Plenty more shiggy, and someone seen trying to extract something from Tortoise's trousers. Tortoise protested that it was empty - and with that many kids I'm not surprised!

A good run, although Twix complained that "we even had to RUN to catch up tonight"! After a few more checks, back to the On-Inn, where Rats was caught giving the horn to Fi-Fi.

Your scribe went round trying to find out if there was anything he had missed and everyone most co-operative; except for Aileen (the one with the trousers held up with a nappy pin) who claimed that she knew something but would keep it to herself. Don't kid yourself Aileen, Hashers were enjoying it before you'd even heard of it!

Over to the Casual (RA for the day), who prescribed down-downs to:

Ian Somebody (WIMP 2) for taking sarnies to the pub.

The Pope for trying to play with the cars on the main road.

Derek Somebody (new runner) for knowing the name of a Scottish football club. You should be ashamed of yourself Derek).

Tonto for not going to Ecuador again. For God's sake, let’s get together and buy the man a one way ticket!

Twix for being fearfully technical about stress i.e. 2*S**2 = (S1-52 )**2+(52-53)**2+(S3-S1)** 2 etc. you ignorant bunch.

Grand Mattress for revising for her exams in the loo

JC for not getting a down-down before the run

Hashit was awarded to the Wild Local, who made his usual pathetic attempt with the down-down.

Everyone adjourned to enjoy the excellent local hospitality except for Flippy who spent the evening watching telly. Plenty of social and singing, marred only by Numbskull's (or was it Running Sore's) premature ejaculation during 'swing low'.

P.S. Don't forget to come well prepared for Tortoise's last run.

P.P.S. I heard some shouting this week!

Cheers. Dodger.

Those who ran:

Rick ALLAN Sherper

Garah ALLISION

Bill BALLINGALL

Ian BERTRAM

Dave BRINDLE

Christine BROWN

Eric BROWN Catweazle

Dave BUCKLEY

Morag BUTTLE

John CARTER JC

Steve CHADWICK

Fiona CHANDLER

Alison CHERMATZ TWIX

Catherine DUVIAU

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Ian FORBES Flippy

Julia FYFE Bannana

Merry GIBSON

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Ross HALL Running Sore

Neil HARDY

Steve HENDRY

Paddy HERRON

Kevin HUDSON

Roger HUNTER Dodger

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

John IRONSIDE

Tim MAGNER

Colin MAY

John McINNES Michelin Man

Andy PATON Bald Eagle

Gaynor PATON

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Gail PRENTICE

Graham PRENTICE

Paul RATCLIFFE Rats

Anne RICHMOND Delilah

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Jeanette ROBB

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Selwyn ROBERTS Rent-a-Brain

Theresa ROPER Mrs T (Grand Mattress)

Andy SCRASE

Alison SMITH Big Al

Neil STRACHAN

Mick STUMP Stumpy

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Alistair THOMSON Ally

Oliver TOMLINS

Phil TOWNSEND Tonto

Derek TURNER Casual

Vanessa TURNER

Dave WOOD Splinter

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh

ABERDEEN*HASH* HOUSE* HARRIERS:

G.M.'s Therese/ Howard Roger

ON SEC Ronnie Robb

R.A. Karen Polson

HASH BEER Mick Stump

HEAD HARE Dave Wood

HASH CASH John Carter

EDITHARE lan regen

Those who ran:

Rick ALLAN Sherper

Hamish BEEDIE

Dave BRINDLE

Eric BROWN Catweazle

John CARTER JC

Alison CHERMATZ

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Anne CURLEY

Graham DALZEIL

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

David FYFE

Julia FYFE Bannana

Grace GAVIN

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Pauline GRANT

Ross HALL Running Sore

Simon HARRISON

Steve HENDRY

Theresa HOBBS

Roger HUNTER

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Charles McDOWELL

Louise McDOWELL

John McINNES Michelin Man

Steve McLAREN

Ian MONTEITH Monty

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Carol NICOLL

Karen POLSON

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Paul RATCLIFFE Rats

Margaret REID

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Selwyn ROBERTS Rent-a-Brain

Howard ROPER Hippo

Neil STRACHAN

Mick STUMP Stumpy

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Derek TURNER Casual

Laura WILLISON

Dave WOOD Splinter

RUN 163

27th April, 1986

Somewhere in Durris!

Well, who could find the place anyway? You might know that Numbskull was one of the hares by the lack of signposting etc., I mean, who knows how to read an ordnance survey reference.

It was a marathon run and that's also the time it took the hares to tell us how many wrong trails they'd set, and how we shouldn't be surprised if we got lost. A few whisky stops were available that is if you could prise the bottle out of the other hare, Dave Robb's shorts and if we found a few zillion dots we were on. So we followed the hares cos we couldn't follow the trail, but we found a few checks and then managed to find the flour dots. Confused? You will be, so were we?

On on up and up over the sun-drenched hills we went with Tonto and Ronnie deciding to take a 'mega short cut! That is via Banchory, (remind me never to take a Numbskull/Dave Robb short cut) ending up behind the rest of us - that will teach them.

The Saturday night's revellers were really suffering, you could tell by the way they were clutching their heads and moaning at intervals, but John did you really have to give up your breakfast half way round, never heard of keep Britain tidy? At this point you sleaze lovers I would like to mention that N. Skull and G. Mattress were more the worse the wear than anyone after their dinner á deux. A rumour circulated quickly (I believe by G. Mattress herself), that it actually was a nettle rash on her neck - now whom is kidding whom, even I know nettles don't grow that tall. However, I digress, well after the usual green slime throwing and things, off we trundled down through the peat hills to the forest. Now Numbskull (Mr. Butch and Macho himself) "says" he actually carved a path through the undergrowth for us with his pen knife/steak knife/scouts knife/machete - I'm not sure which, but pick the one you think is most believable. Well after 2+ hours we ambled back to the car park behind Charles and Louise who were lovingly holding hands - and who said romance is dead.

Off we went to the On-Inn to be met by Fergie and Mrs. Fergie who also doesn't know what an ordnance survey reference is as they couldn't find the on-on (a likely story), and was deservedly awarded the hash shit shirt for all their moans and groans.

Other down-downs were awarded to Ian (Flippy) - no I didn't ask why he is called that, for his 25th run.

Splinter and Howard for something about falling down a 10 foot crevasse and being airlifted off snow-capped mountains (the things some people will do for a free beer) and lastly Mike Zadra who not only claimed to have seen all the spots on all the trails, but was the first to pay his subscription, (puke).

Okay, last bit of sleaze - it came to my attention that our numbers were few due to a raft race down the Dee and one of my reliable sources spotted J.C. wearing a pink skirt and jacket. For God's sake someone tell him that pink clashes with red hair! Has the man no colour sense?

Your scribe of the week.

Rita

p.s.

Attention all Harriets - if you like to live dangerously accept a lift from Dave 'Death Wish' Buckley, he thinks he's Emerson Fitipel Fitapete Stirling Moss.

Those who ran:

Eric BROWN Catweazle

Dave BUCKLEY

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Ian FORBES Flippy

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Steve HENDRY

Roger HUNTER

Charles McDOWELL

Louise McDOWELL

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Selwyn ROBERTS Rent-a-Brain

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Phil TOWNSEND Tonto

Chris WESTON Mega

Ian WILLIAMSON

Dave WOOD Splinter

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

Mike ZANDRA

Numbskull you kept onto me to make sure you got a mention - is this OK?

Run 162

20.4.86

Inverurie

Hares: John Cruikshank and Landrover Simon,

New Record Turnout

Hash Mismanagement balls it up again. At the last committee meeting on the 18th March it was decided that Monday runs would commence on 5th May.

Result turn out for Run 161 - 14;

Turnout for Run 162 - 10,

And this week? And the May long weekend?

We should have changed to Monday when the clocks went forward.

Note the large number of the committee present at recent runs. Let’s get it right next year.

This in fact is the worst ever AH3 turnout - surpassing even the fateful Run 8 (almost three years ago) with a turnout of 11 + 4 on-oners - nuff said!

The Run

A motley crew of 10 including the two hares waited for the multitudes to arrive as the rain came tumbling down - must have all gone to the London Marathon. In common with this event AH3 too had its share of great athletes (er..... Roger perhaps - a fine specimen (of what? a loo brush!)), fun runners (not too many of these) the disabled (Numbskull - the man who projects the image of a mental moron and then gets upset when you tell him about it) and walkers (the majority of the hash - Fifi, Grand mattress, Carolyn (visitor; GM's ex sister-in-law) etc).

Welcome to newcomer(s) Keith Middleton (ex Guangzhou) and Steve Hendry (actually 2nd time but missed out on the Westhill write up).

Downdown for the first home last week went to Numskull who completely wimped out (good impression for the newcomers!)

Hare John shot off to Essons (-the run was re-arranged) to pick up stragglers. There was only one - Dogshit and he failed to appear.

On On with your scribe wandering round with an umbrella. A leisurely stroll with only Keith, Steve and Roger the Dodger doing any running ensuring your scribe, with some large shortcuts kept up with the FRB's. Mind you with some encouragement Fifi checked out the 2nd-check and found the On On - surprise?!) Even our GM tried checking here (in the opposite direction) Oh well tried it once didn't like it......

Poor Old Fifi kept on fending off the advances of Numskull who spent the entire run trying to chat her up (try kneeing him in the privates - I'd have said balls but he probably hasn't got any!)

Yes folks you too can join the Numskull Fan Club - send your letters to N/S Shell.

Through the puddles and shiggy where's the Robbs and Running Sore Honker? What a waste.

On the Railway Bridge with Keith running off towards Old Meldrum - lots of absolutely no brains. Grand Mattress was invited to become an FRB by your scribe and Roger, only to lose the trail after 10 metres!!

1st home was newcomer Keith with your scribe there to witness the event?!

Pile into Simon's Landover to shelter from the rain (really large turnout!) for Numbskull who was told by all to F. off. Not to be outdone the antihero sticks his foot over the exhaust to try and stall the engine. Result Numbskulls leg and boot covered in oily shit -what a star!

An enjoyable run in rather damp conditions.

On Inn to the Kintore Arms with a draw for the "Night out with Theresa".

Winner Numbskull

1st Reserve Numbskull

2nd Reserve Donald Duck

Something tells me it was fixed - couldn't work out how. Maybe the man’s not as dumb as he looks, although that doesn't say much.

Over to RA of the day Roger.

Down down to

Theresa - failed FRB

Numbskull - making FRB's wait for the beer, the draw, exhaust, etc, etc. (Barbican Shandy cos he likes down down too much).

Hashit to Landrover Simon for admitting to laying the trail from a car, and being a mean sonovabitch,

Scribed by Tortoise,

P.S. Happy with your mentions Numbskull? You can pay me later.

Those who ran:

Fiona CHANDLER

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Simon HARRISON

Roger HUNTER

John McINNES Michelin Man

Graham MOWATT

Jill SWIFFEN

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

COURCHPEDITION '86

Yet another hashpedition rears its ugly head and the suitcase (or fester pit, in my case) is dragged screaming from the bowels of the wardrobe.

DING-DONG: DING-DONG: 0600 Saturday. "TEXI, SURR!" Only 20 minutes early, the dumb bastards. A flit to the panting, throbbing house of Stumpy (already in Courch) and the frustrated Anne, as in Desperate D'Anne. Sound of husky snoring from Jill's room as I carried Anne's bag to the taxi - could be Jill's hormone tablets not working or a new multi-gym!! Mega's gear followed and to the airport we flogged.

Owing to Scooby-Doo's pathetic marketing, we were forced to truck to Edin on a "lugsherry" coach. Met Hash Junkie and Parentals at Edin + Bev, who wasn't even sure if she was goin’t. Ever present Wormy of the meadows was in good hungover form.

Flasher was 'hot for love' as he waved off Mr. and Mrs. Junkie, Lyon arrived with a fair old degree of civilised departure – JC managed to nick me welly, but apart from that, gentle, no hassle arrival.

Pete and Ada were there to meet us - the brown beach bastards from Abu Dhabi. 4 hours of gentle nodding off and we were there. Not for us the impoverished scum of Courcheval 1300; the middle-class, golf club owning, 2 year old Sierra, 3 times a week, dear, animals of Courcheval 1500; the pseudo gentility of the aspiring, Home Counties snobs of Courcheval 1650. NO! NEVER! We were going to get ripped off good and proper amongst the poodle-walking, posturing, psing plebeians of Courcheval 1850. YEAH!! And who is waiting for us - Terry + his van - pronounced "Terreh 'un 'is Vhan" (hawk up on "vhan").

Dropped the Eckins mob off and set off for Robollio - the phenomenally well-hung clanging figure of Stumpy, eagerly waiting for his rampant lassie, filled the doorway - he was still standing at the back of the lounge?

Curly, too, had been skiing all day. "Exit Adrain" was also there, a friend of Bonker Bartletts whose chat-up lines were so poor as to raise scorn from the triple-breasted nymphos of Eroticon 6! He and old Piledriver Preston were the only people I know who were sniffing so hard after the Chalet girls they were in danger of self-inhalation - a truly horrible way to die. Unsurprisingly, the chalet-girls barricaded themselves in their room after a brief demo tape was replayed with total groping accompaniment. Most of us grew out of the old "desperation" scene around puberty but not these two hairless wonders. The last chalet-girl to fall for this stuff was taking care of skiers behind Noah's Ark on the windy days.

Luton Airport held the rest of our Mob back until 0200-ish so Mark and Sally appeared at Brekkers with Andy Molloy.

Stumpy and Anne spent the whole week entwined and were lucky to survive as two separate beings - very symbiotic.

And to the skiing. Gordon and Not-Dot were waiting at the lifts along with all our chalet - not surprising as the dawn chorus of wind had blown the windows out at 0630 forcing us to an early start. Dale and Rune showed up too, with Windsurf-Bill, stud of the flexing boards who was taming the wild Shirley, back in Aberdoom, so we had heard (ta, Stumpy!).

Bev was itching......to go and off we set with no sign of Chalet Ecrins, where, rumour had it, Bonker had a free run at the girls - shame on you, J.C.

Weather mixed, hip-flask skiing lessons well on the go, Sally "Mushrooms" skiing like a dream (wet), Curly happily heliographing at all and sundry, Dale and Rune very twee in the matching ski's - a fine day. Piledriver Preston made a complete shambles of slave of the day and was promptly allowed to practise the next day. As far as disasters went, there were none. Activity in the other place involved much pelvic clashing and general sloth - i.e. Mega and Rana, Banana's and co, Flasher and the Junkie. Down in the "Jump" Bar (short for "Jumping the Bones" a quaint old English bonking term), a fairly orderly night was had with no extraneous stimulation - BOO HISS:

Two unfortunate incidents occurred on Mon - the ligament tearing fall of Medevac Mushrooms and the loss of Hamish Beadie's cherry (to his face, by the colour of it:). I am magnanimously ignoring the serving of lunch to myself and Curly in a non-aids free zone as pure misfortune. Poor Sally departed the slopes after 2 days magic skiing to sit around all week fighting the knackers yard. She did a grand job, too, for a cripple - she deserved Hashit of the Week for hyping up the agony - I grow different legs every day of the week. Hamish, Hamish, quiet introvert, named 'Santa' coz he could only smoke up the chimney, uttered 2 blood-curdling cries, ripped his sheets off and leapt over to Bev. Within seconds they were entwined, with Santa deeply burying his whotsit into Bev's netherflanks, obviously intent on some sort of pre-Xmas packet delivery. Spot lit, with a running commentary, the couple's concentration wavered. With great humility and appreciation of a youngster's excitability, Piledriver gave them darkness for 1.64 seconds - twice, and then permanently. Come morning and......come!-mourning.

Tues and Wed were glorious sunny days, hot and sharp. Santa's head was aptly cherry red and BMW looked divine. On the Wed, the ski-hash was held with great success. Bonker was an hour late, we on-on’d up one tow, down a blue run to find the next tow broken - quelle horreur, n'est-ce pas? We all thrashed down to the next bubble, including two daredevil leaps of about 1 ft - WOW! Except Lesley - blond beast of the slopes praying (or preying) on broken ski-bums, pausing only to scan for more pliant victims - she was late to the lift after bundling the Nordic Ski-champion "Spull Pulsvog" into the undergrowth. Thanks to Bev, Dave Arms and Dorothy for setting it and Bev, Dorothy and Gordon for wearing shorts. A great afternoon with much merriment.

Evening time was health torchlight prosesh and fondue night .- bring out your songshits and cough your lungs up. Owing to an administrative error, Simon was next to Alison, Bonker next to Louise with Adrian's grinning face staring at her. And I had unlimited booze at the end of the table with a chance to learn from these masters of misery about the art of tedious chat-up and I was not disappointed. Dave Arms (who had by this time, met a Canadian accountant who lived in Rome, called "C-A", not "C and A", nor was it a helpful guide, and was putting all three to shame) was keeping a log of all ghastly sayings - "Have you ever eaten in Addis Abbaba?" etc. A few songs, a joke, many down-downs and quite an extensive ski down to town.

Next day was very manque - I made a fine effort to reach the pit of Val Thoren with Bill the Board and T 'General: It was bloody cold so we skied back and had a several course blowout lunch. Not much skiing was done although it improved later.

Mealtime that night was an odd affair. In Ecrins, after much booze, souls were bared to a phantom Irma Kutz - stories of early meetings, first loves - Banana + Dave, Mega and Rona - all good stuff - Flasher and. Anne - I wish I'd been there. However, I was watching Piledriver refuse a down-down to ingratiate himself with the chalet-girls - to stoop that low - YEUCH!

The Fancy Dress Party buzzed up and down - once enthusiasm built up, the imagination got going and the costumes developed. Mushrooms had a bagful of tights, which went to Santa and me - Santa looked gorgeous and was unlucky not to score with one of the more unscrupulous desperadoes. Ecrins took a while to arrive but when they did, a great time was had - Dashing White Sergeant and 8-some Reel in the gentle snow in full Fancy Dress with NO music at one in the morning. Everyone filtered off later to leave -> a happy Robollio? NO. Piledriver had to lash out at someone and picked Bev. Thank you and Goodnight.

Friday another mixed skiing day - lots of sloth - a good gathering for lunch at this mountain dive. Skied a couple of lovely woody tracks and called it a day. Scooby-Doo's cheese and wine party was a fiasco, really. They organised a van lift late, drove past Stumpy and short Anne and forgot to tell us we were getting back on our own until two mins before the lifts shut! Poor Scooby-Doo - not a ski-company to recommend I'm afraid.

Two other events worth noting - Monday was skating night - Flasher, Junkie and Rona gliding around effortlessly; the throbbing willy'ed Santa falling around, JC and Dave Arms staggering, and Dave Fyfe groping for his wife's support (assistance NOT thong). Every 10 secs one of the superstars hit the deck - Andy Molloy - SPLAT! Dave Fyfe - CRUNCH! All this happening next to a guy who had walked onto the ice, wobbled, fallen, cracked his skull open and broken his leg - quell domage!

Sunday - Dave Arm's birthday - 30 years old, and desperate for a last jettison of the sperm banks in his twenties - no manual assistance. Of course we gave him enough down-downs to get him so pissed, he made a pass at any female he got close to. Andy Molloy was even drunker. We counted him down at midnight - "5 mins to go, Dave". "Will anyone have a bonk please?" shouted the man. "Thirty seconds to go". No joy, Dave. So in a fit of pique, he and J.C. got rooked in a disco for £20 each in 10 mins and then got evicted - a wild night and woolly morning.

So, gone for another year, the Skipedition. Thanks to Dale and Rune, Pete and Ada, Gordon and Dorothy, Curly and Bonker for various distances travelled to get there, to Anne for her wee nighty, to Mushrooms for not hiding away, to Hamish for being a headcase, to Lesley for being "Rats" of 86, to Carol for hauling everyone together and coping with the pressure of not being responsible. The chalet girls did fine given the pathetic pestering punter was heavily overdone. I'm not organising next years, though. I'll send you a card from Colorado on April - gloat, gloat.

STOMPER

RUN 149

BURNS DAY RUN

IRVINE ARMS, DRUMOAK

HARES: Dave Robb and Ian Forbes

45 Runners turned up for this classic to commemorate the immortal bard Robbie Burns.

Welcome to new runners Sandra Inkster, Walter Services (what?) and Debbie Ingold.

A down-down to first home last week Peiter Fransom, followed by a wee dram of the amber nectar set the scene for events to come.

Piped out of the car park and its OnOn. Didn't we all look smart in our tartan?

Pink Panther was displaying her tartan legs - I didn't realise she had legs.

Flasher proving he's got nothing under his sporan - talk about a failure!

Some even wore skirts: Les Animales Robb (any excuse to dress up in women's clothing) and Martin Castle (backs against the wails, boys).

The prize for the most original piece of tartan must go to Wytske - nice piece this one ah sorry back to the tartan - she had cut a postcard, of a Scotsman tossing his caber, in half and was wearing the two halves as earings (she looked a bit funny with a pair of sails either side of her head though!

- a fine impression of a wing nut.

A loop round the football pitch and shock! Your humble scribes in front.

Rentabrain, Splinter and Rossella arrive by car at the first check.

On up the hill and checking - J.C. and the Casual checking it out. Wrong! Hare Robb calls a backcheck - this is the whinger who moans about lack of consistency of hash markings.

On down to the Robbs residence for the wine check Hic!

Down to the Rio Dee with Martin Castle excelling by calling the on after 3 spots. Theresa, missing husband Howard follows tracks in the snow claiming she thought she was on trail.

Meanwhile the Casual goes for a hash slash. Result Theresa ends up eyeing up the Casual's equipment. Not impressed knowing this was the only bridge for miles the hash still follows the hares slowly across the river and up the hill. Apart from Kevin Furlong who was moving along like shit off a shovel. And apart from Theresa whose brain must have been affected by the huge phallic tower on the far side of the river leads Mega, J.C., Flasher and Junkie amongst others on a failed SCB (short cut beer-check?)

Ronnie and P.C. Plod alias Eric get caught by another backcheck. Rats failed on his blow job and so didn't get the horn! I had a chat with Numbskull at this time and I realised I'd over estimated his intelligence - I'd credited him with an IQ in double figures!

Back back - surprise, surprise! a long hut pleasant on in with Ronnie first home with J.C. second - down downs next week!

Back to the Irvine with the R.A. K.P. in the bar - bonking again or just plain idle?

Comments on the run varied from excellent to boring (Jeanette and the Casual)

New runner Sandra described it as bloody long and a waste of flour! Still the shecks were good, hic!

The Irvine Arms did us proud with Haggis neaps and tatties. Master of Ceremonies was Dave Robb reading some Scotty junk about screwing - the only thin that’s screwed up around here is Robb.

Down downs were given out by Dave Armes the acting RA to:

• Dave Robb - for the organisation (not a mention of co-hare Ian Forbes).

• The Grand Mattress for leading the gullible astray.

• Gill the frog who didn't even run.

• KP (cos she'd given the acting RA a down down on a previous occasion).

• New runner Sandra Inkster for fine colour coordination.

• Hashit went to Ross (Findus) for bragging he'd never been hashit and for also not running!

The scribes run rating

For the whisky, wine and beer +5

For the long, pointless trek across the river -2

For the long pointless trek back -2

For the barbed wire fence that almost claimed one testicle -1

For the food and entertainment +9

For Pink Panthers legs -5

Overall Rating +4

An excellent afternoon. By the way does Scotland have any other poet bar Burns?

Scribed by Tortoise.

Those who ran:

Dave ARMES Uxsters

Christine BROWN

Eric BROWN Catweazle

John CARTER JC

Martin CASTLE

Ross CLEPHAM

Catherine DUVIAU

Sara ELLERY

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Ian FORBES Flippy

Peiter FRANSOM

Kevin FURLONG

Susan GILLANDER

Jill GOLDSTEIN Yankey Jill

Hans HARINGA

Pauline HOTSLAG

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

John LENTING

Rossella MASCIA

Colin MAY

Charles McDOWELL

Graham MOWATT

Andy PATON Bald Eagle

Gaynor PATON

Karen POLSON KP

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Paul RATCLIFFE Rats

Billy RENWICK

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Jeanette ROBB

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Selwyn ROBERTS Rent-a-Brain

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Derek TURNER The Casual

Chris WESTON Mega

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

Laura WILLISON

Wytske WINTER

Dave WOOD Splinter

RUN NUMBER 148

19th January 1986

Even before I start writing, I'm totally confused. If last week's is Run Number 146, this week's is Burns Day Run Number 149, does this mean I can't count or am I writing two sheets over one run? Is anyone surprised that AH3 can't count, is anyone remotely interested?

This was not a huge run, long maybe, but it wasn't exactly overcrowded, not exactly claustrophobic. In fact, at 11 o’clock, there were exactly five people huddled outside the Cove Bay Hotel eagerly waiting the off.

The five surveyed Fergy's breakfast:

· Cheese and Onion Crisps, Packet - One off

· Mars Bar - One off

· Export Ale, McEwan's, Tin - One off

All items liberally coated with Fine Fare Plain Flour. Not a vitamin in sight, how does he keep that immaculate complexion?

Eventually the numbers expanded to 14, Fergy finished his sumptuous feast, and the last minute instructions were given. "Don't go too near the cliff edge, we don't want any deaths". Hashing takes on a new twist, now it's not only cold, tiring, dirty and childish but dangerous as well.

On-On down towards the harbour, congratulations must go to the mental midgets (the author included) who seriously ran out to the end of the pier. Well, it was a nice view.

Back up the cliffs and the start of the long trail towards Altens Industrial Estate. Nice to run around Altens and see some of these contractors at first hand. Personally, I have struck a few of them off my list of approved suppliers. The load of junk in Vetca's yard was appalling.

Local reaction to the sight of this bunch of people so obviously not enjoying themselves, as usual, ranges from studied indifference through mild inquisitiveness to bold interest. Two little kids were very helpful in showing us where the leaders had gone, except that they were completely unintelligible. "Fe the kit blooroog fester ye ken the waa", they explained to us while gesturing down the road. God, if only I could have spoken the language, I could have expressed my gratitude in their native tongue. I only hope they understood my pathetic "Thank you". The English are always so ignorant when it comes to learning languages.

Hans Haringa would like a mention for a traumatic experience with four dots of flour that were not the proper trail. Four Dots!! No Bar!! Christ what is this!! Bloody Ridiculous!! Poor Hans, suffering with delusions that Hashing is somehow fair. A small vote of thanks to the Hares for the first run in Cove that did not take in the Altens Rubbish Tip.

The bizarre happening of the day occurred in the Car Park while waiting for the Pub to open. The Public Phone Rang!!! Simon was quick off the mark, leaped to answer it, "Hello, we kill 'em, we chill 'em". We learned later the reason why he was then convulsed with laughter, apparently his opening was answered by “Is Doreen there?". For those old enough to remember Monty P. the correct answer in such situations is : "Dead?, call Arthur Sodgeon of Prestatyn, the fastest funeral service in North Wales, we will have the deceased out of the house and down the chute within the hour". Not to worry, Simon, one day people are going to find even you funny.

The manager of the Cove Bay Hotel will not remember AH3 without thinking of the promised bumper profit Sunday morning that never materialised. Fergy had glibly promised "about 30 people" and "could you lay on some soup and sandwiches", "Certainly, said the Landlord". How many turned up? Nine, and three of those drank Soda Water. Next time you’re driving through Cove on the way somewhere (on the way where?), do drop in for a pint to help keep the guy in business. Do not, however, accept the offer of a Ham Sandwich, it will almost certainly be one of the fifty or so not eaten by the nine last Sunday.

Down Downs were awarded, accompanied by the worst singing since Ian Dury had his tonsils out:

• Chris Joly for being new. He was, however, certainly not new to beer. You couldn't have poured it into a dustbin any faster.

• Ross for being late and being in possession of an offensive mouth.

• Sherpa for liking Fine Fare lager which he was required to drink (We could have sung fifteen verses)

• Simon for performing the whole ceremony on one leg and forgetting who the fourth Down Down should have gone to (A transparent device used to award it to himself). Simon triumphed in attempting to pour the last of his Down Down into his trousers and missing!!!

The meeting disintegrated at 1.30 p.m. when the civilised departed to watch Rugby Special. The uncivilised stayed on in the Pub, not wanting to break a lifelong rule of never leaving a drinking establishment except when being forcibly ejected. We left them quizzing Ross on personal hygiene. Had he ever seen a bar of soap? Was he aware that many people these days have running water coming out of taps in their houses?

Those who ran:

Rick ALLAN Sherper

Andy BARTLET

Bev BROWN Brown Owl

John CARTER JC

Alison CHERMATZ

Anne CURLEY

Liz DUNCAN

Sara ELLERY

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Ian FORBES Flippy

Peiter FRANSOM

Susan GILLANDER

Jill GOLDSTEIN Yankey Jill

Dave GRIGSBY

Ross HALL Running Sore

Hans HARINGA

Simon HARRISON

Kevin HUDSON

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Michael MacKAY Mad Mike

Ian MONTEITH Monty

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Graham MOWATT

Alan NICOLL

Carol NICOLL

Karen POLSON

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Paul RATCLIFFE Rats

Jill SWIFFEN

Margaret REID

Billy RENWICK

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Selwyn ROBERTS Rent-a-Brain

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Rona SIMPSON

Mick STUMP Stumpy

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Phil TOWNSEND Tonto

Derek TURNER Casual

Chris WESTON Mega

Ian WILLIAMSON

Laura WILLISON

Wytske WINTER

Dave WOOD Splinter

Ian WORMALD Biggles

HASHPEDITION*** 17th-18th-19th January 1986

First off-an apology. These scribes were not informed of their duty until the end of the weekend. The following is what their combined miniscule memories were able to muster up!

Friday 5:30-6ish; arrival at the Albyn of the daring bunch who volunteered their lives away! General confusion was fuelled by the fact that quite a few people had done a quick ten pints.

Departed (late, of course) in several cars and one very full mini-bus with JC. at the wheel.

Arrived in Aberlour to meet for a quick pint (or ten) at the ABERLOUR INN. Splinter and a few others staggered in late after spending {hr at the LOUR INN next door: (thinking the ABER had just fallen off the sign!)

General drinking, dart playing, dart dodging, dancing at the (YIK) greasy Chip Shop across the way The Aberlour locals turned up an AH3 Hymn sheet left by last year's bunch. This led the Hashers into rousing renditions of FATHER ABRAHAM, SUNSHINE MOUNTAIN and other equally inane songs as the locals either joined in or stared on dumbfounded and amazed.

Arrival in Nethy Bridge (a.k.a. Nooky Bridge). On to the Heather Brae (a.k.a. Feather Brain) lodge and tavern for drinking, carousing, and sizing up of prospective bonking partners. The locals were somewhat taken aback, especially when Dave Grigsby spilled an entire pint over a balding loon at the bar. Selwyn appeased the tense atmosphere by chatting up the loon's wifey. YAY Selwyn... the hero again. (Shame he had no say in WWII!) Other Pub activities included putting every ice cube in Nethy Bridge down someone else's back which of course led to much groping, grappling and falling about into heaps on the floor. Much careful organisation of sleeping arrangements was all in vain and entirely unnecessary. Even though the liquor licence had been extended until 1:00, forcible throwing out of Hashers was still required.

Saturday morning-an early start (for some!) Skiing was done by the majority a sprinkling of hill-walkers, climbers, rugby-watchers and hangover-recover No major ski casualties. Kevin seemed to think that the best way to stop was by bashing into fences (the ski instructor didn't agree) Daring beginner Jil decided to take a hair-raising run down the big slope (her life narrowly saved by Dave G.) Stomper was off making friends at the Ptarmigan. He sidled up to pinch what he thought was Laura's bum...OOPS...it was a MAN! Blood rushed to Stomper's face and quickly drained from other parts of his anatomy. The question is, Did he enjoy it??

Back to the cottages for 2 inch deep tepid baths. Grab a partner! Arrived at the Smithy (the big cottage) to aromas of hot baked tatties and delectable goulash (ghoul-ash?) prepared by Monty, Dave Robb & others. Everyone was so ravenous they didn't care what they were eating! Second course was scrumptious clootie dumpling (dripping in an attempt at hot custard) compliments of Mrs. Robb. Again we marvel at the fact that such a great cook could manage to produce two such ghastly misfits for sons!)

DOWN DOWNS awarded to:

• Laura (piggy) Willison for not waking the R.A. (or herself!);

• Selwyn for refusing to share the R.A.'s bed, the the R.A. was awarded a jam jar full of Port..

• K.P., thinking it was wine demanded to know who'd brought it (we all thought it was beetroot juice);

• Pauline (POM Grant for stealing someone else's bed (a prime bonking bed at that.. wishful thinking on her part?) and for wearing a matching hair ribbon;

• Margaret (Maggie) Reed for thinking our GM's were Mr and Mrs Wimp (ouch!), then,

• Stomper for pinching another man's bum (the truth comes out) and probably to several others whose names escape us but who were, no doubt, equally deserving.

Heaps of drink, party games included:

Who can shove the beer can farthest an not fall over...

Eggy Roulette (is it worse to have a raw or a boiled egg smashed on your forehead?) and songs, jokes, etc. Story-telling was led off by Stomper in his inimitable style.

Folks drifting off to bed at early hours of the morning, alone, in pairs, 3's and 4's???

Sunday morning Hash; ON ON at the cheerful graveyard.

DOWN DOWN awarded to Ian Edinburgh's R.A. to test his skill and manhood. An admirable performance

Hares Tonto and Tortoise are nowhere to be seen.. it ends up they were setting the Hash as we were running (walking, limping) it. A leisurely stroll for most... massive disorganization...everybody lost in different directions in the wild woods. (Tracking woozles?) Selwyn and Ronnie found bashing sharp ice planks with their bony heads quite refreshing. J.C. was seen mauling several willing females in the bushes.

(SORRY it's so long...it was a FUN-FILLED weekend, gang!)

ON ON to Whisky check... Teresa and Pink Panther heading up the FLU and buggered-knee section. Chris Weston and friend are nowhere to be seen... it's rumoured they were off bonking in the woods. Moderate mudslinging instigated by (who else?) Wild Local. Back to the Church Ruins...all posed for a photo certain to make the WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE POSTERS.

Back to the pub (Yegads-not more booze!) Soup and mince pie for all (bar 5 or 6 of us...0.K., who had two or more servings??) Monty nicked all the waterproof watches, put them into his (not-so-clean) pint, then dealt them out to the not-so-clean) locals. If you didn't get yours back, talk to Diane who was later seen chatting up the cleaner of the locals.

DOWN DOWNS awarded to the following:

• K.P. for having a list of who was to get Down Downs

• Monty for earlier having been heard to say; "If it's lager, it can't be for me!" and also for insufficient bonking (according to Diane)

• Rats and Gill for being the perfect loving couple; inseparable all weekend (Rats proudly displayed what he claims to be the smallest nipples in Britain)

• Teresa -we can't remember why--Hitting the kip early???

• Al (Margaret's flatmate and Liz Whizz's friend) for being a VIRGIN "This is the first time I've ever attempted to drink it all at once!" he was heard to exclaim

• Ronnie Robb -who can remember why this time--- for being Ronnie!

• Jill (Yankee) Goldstein won the prized HASHIT for trying to teach Peanut Butter songs and also for other unforgivable offenses... She donned Tonto's lovely blue dress (with some help from Monty)

On to the BOAT RACES-downdown competition Three teams of four men and one woman each (the locals couldn't rustle up a woman so a rather stout barman squeezed into the hashit dress) Admirable DOWNDOWNS by all---the final results:

1st place: Herriott Watt Univ. team (where the hell is that?)

2nd place: Nethy Bridge Locals (what a lot they are)

3rd place: HASH Team (aw--you guys (& gal) You MAKE ME SO Angry!!

AU REVOIR to the southerners--ADIOS Mad Mike, Cath, Bev, and Ian (R.A.)

AUF WIEDERSEHEN and GOOD RIDDANCE

Ah, but the weekend's not quite over... Those on the mini-bus got drunker and drunkerer...nearly thrown out of the Albyn for disorderly conduct and indecent exposure (Nipple contest instigated by, guess who? Rats!) Ian Williamson rode on DIANES roof rack down Queen's Road (where are all the pigs??) on the Light of Bengal.

WHAT FUN FOR ALL!!!!!!!! WHEN'S THE 1987 SKASHPEDITION???

Scribed by the sweet and innocent (cough, cough)

Miss Piggy (Laura) Willison and Jill (Yankee) Goldstein

P.S. Thanks to everyone who organised (or tried to)

P.P.S. Scribe No. 1 is certain that drinking cider makes your nails grow faster

P.P.S.S. Scribe No. 2 is still walking like she just got off a horse!

Those who ran:

Rick ALLAN Sherper

Andy BARTLET

Bev BROWN Brown Owl

John CARTER JC

Alison CHERMATZ

Anne CURLEY

Liz DUNCAN

Sara ELLERY

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Ian FORBES Flippy

Peiter FRANSOM

Susan GILLANDER

Jill GOLDSTEIN Yankey Jill

Dave GRIGSBY

Ross HALL Running Sore

Hans HARINGA

Simon HARRISON

Kevin HUDSON

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Michael MacKAY Mad Mike

Ian MONTEITH Monty

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Graham MOWATT

Alan NICOLL

Carol NICOLL

Karen POLSON

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Paul RATCLIFFE Rats

Jill SWIFFEN

Margaret REID

Billy RENWICK

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Selwyn ROBERTS Rent-a-Brain

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Rona SIMPSON

Mick STUMP Stumpy

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Phil TOWNSEND Tonto

Derek TURNER Casual

Chris WESTON Mega

Ian WILLIAMSON

Laura WILLISON

Wytske WINTER

Dave WOOD Splinter

Ian WORMALD Biggles

RUN 147

12 January 1986

A non-raining windy day saw the 146th hash off to a fine start in Cunteswells woods.

Down-down's were awarded to last week’s winners by the G.M.. Why are we using cans, and where are the hash mugs nowadays?

The R.A. arrived, thus contradicting the rumour that AH3 didn't have one. (Obviously Saturday night was a non-event).

The week's new runners were forgotten and not introduced, and then over to Mick Stump for the details of the hash "short run", "7 checks", "no shiggy" - lying bastard!

Then off, or “ON-ON”.

Things started in quite a civilised manner with most of the running on council paths through the forest and then onto a tarmac road. - No shiggy yet. Ah! But wait, the Hash Junkie dressed impeccably - an obvious contender for hash Sloan award at the 150th - looked so clean that shiggy had to be found. It was! In she went mid screams and shrieks, bum first. At the same time an innocent bystander (Numbskull) - who never really seemed "with it" all day - was introduced to mud shampoo by Dave Robb. A classic to all those who saw it, since Dave had been standing behind Numbskull for over a minute with mud in hand.

The next check was deciphered as a lover’s check - quite interesting since the main people checking it out were Oliver Tomlinson (Tomcat? - Ed.) And friend. Simon the Pieman (should he be called Monkey?) climbed the nearest tree - what a silly move since there was a lot of shiggy very close. A new game emerged "hit the Monkey". This actually proved harder than it looked and most of those on the ground ended up with more shiggy on themselves than on the Monkey. Simon, when interviewed later said he would like to advertise the fact that he is an eligible, available bachelor and is looking for anyone interested in a hiking holiday in Peru later this year. (If interested in his body or a holiday ring Aberdeen 638831).

The Wild Local and Joyboy remained very clean for the duration of the run, Joyboy talking continuously of his new job and how important he is - how fucking boring.

Two transvestites emerged wearing dresses and tights that had been obtained during the run in the woods. We all looked around with great expectations for a half-naked woman (he means a woman half naked, not half of a naked woman – Ed). I just liked to type all the stuff about naked woman over and over again - well wouldn't you? That had been for a quiet Sunday morning stroll before being, disrobed. She was obviously too embarrassed and well hidden.

Liz the Wiz and J.C. were caught groping in a ditch and then tried to convince everyone that they were just keeping warm - a likely story.

Pink Panther remained fairly quiet for the whole run (well relatively quiet) and blamed it on the hangover from the night before – is it true that she can't stand the pace nowadays?

New shoes were worn by Tonto (they matched the dress nicely) and Anne Curly, obviously new Christmas prezzies.

First back was Sula the Fyffe Banana dog - let's see her drink next week's down-down from the can.

Overall, the run was quite quiet, uneventful and pleasant, everyone reserving themselves for Nookybridge, the and bonking.

The On-Inn was the Cults Hotel, where down-downs awarded to;

• Alison Smith for her 50th

• Ross Clepham in place of Oliver Tomlinson - (who was his friend anyway?) and because it was Ross's 20th run and his first down-down. He would also like to point out the fact that he has never been Hashit.

• J.C. for simulating bonking in the ditch

• Joyboy for being clean, very boring and his last run with AH3 for a while.

• Norma, Barbara or Wilma - no-one seemed to know her name but she thought the hash were "childish buggers" at her last run, - but she came back! And so what if we are? However, she left before the down-downs and Hoggy (alias Stomper) did it for her.

• Hashit went to Tonto (in the dress) and looked beautiful downing it with his shorts round his ankles.

NOTE Saturday 25 January is "hit Champers night" for a boogie. Wear a silly hat to distinguish the best from the rest. Make your own arrangements for transport, but be there early - 10:30 ish ? - to get in. Tables booked for 25. No jeans or trainers.

OnOn

Oxters

Those who Ran:

Christine BROWN

Eric BROWN Catweazle

Dave BUCKLEY

John CARTER JC

Martin CASTLE

Ross CLEPHAM

Anne CURLEY

Liz DUNCAN

Sara ELLERY

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Ian FORBES Flippy

Peiter FRANSOM

Kevin FURLONG

David FYFE

Julia FYFE Bannana

Jill GOLDSTEIN Yankey Jill

Dave GRIGSBY

Ross HALL Running Sore

Hans HARINGA

Simon HARRISON

Pauline HOTSLAG

Kevin HUDSON

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Ian JOY Joy Boy

John LENTING

Colin MAY

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Alan NICOLL

Carol BURTT

Karen POLSON

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Paul RATCLIFFE Rats

Jill SWIFFEN

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Jeanette ROBB

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Andy SCRASE

Alison SMITH Big Al

Mick STUMP Stumpy

Mark THOMPSON Tortoise

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Oliver TOMLINS

Phil TOWNSEND Tonto

Helene VAN NOORDENNE

Alan WATKINS

Barbara WATKINS

Chris WESTON Mega

Wilma WHITEHEAD

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky?

Wytske WINTER

Dave WOOD Splinter