Scribes 2010

The morning after.....

At some point the previous day I had cleverly set my alarm to ensure I didn't forget to drag myself out of bed in time for the hash. Unfortunately actually leaving the house took rather longer than I planned, due to an urgent requirement to talk to Ralph on the big porcelain telephone. So I set off late, feeling rather worse for wear, but confident that all the other late night revellers would be present and not showing up would be poor form and result in down downs and general abuse. By the time my car clock ticked up to 10:59 and I hadn’t yet turned into Duthie Park I was fairly sure I was going to be scribe today and silently cursing the inventors of gin. As it happens I was so late that scribe duty had already been assigned, Result! Unfortunately I was fed some sob story by said assigned scribe, It’s All Because about how he couldn't be scribe and control his ferocious dog, Killer. Killer has very short legs and couldn't keep up with the pack was the excuse of choice, I was in no state to argue so accepted the scribe accessories.

Onto the run, I arrived in the middle of a lengthy anecdote which ended in Oneliner being awarded a pre run down down and re-presented with his delightful fur earmuffs which he had “accidentally” forgotten to retrieve from the party the night before. Thruppenny Bit announced that her co hare had failed to turn up so she had set an epic run for us. Great, here was I thinking that as we all felt grim we might just potter round the park for a bit and maybe stop for a fry-up and a coffee after half an hour.

Good news from Thruppenny bit, the first part of the route set was now too dangerous for hashing?!? (Having scaled numerous barbed wire fences, walls and very slippery river banks in recent hashes this seemed hard to believe.). Excellent, I thought, maybe this would reduce the epic run to one involving a fry up, and a coffee and maybe time for a nap.

For the On On Cinders was trusted with a map and was to guide us to a safe starting point, so off we set along riverside drive, trying not to fall on the ice. At this point I realised, that sudden movements (like running) made me feel rather sick, and hurt my head, and sounding the horn didn't improve matters. Uurgghhhhhh.

The start of the “safe” section of the run began at a bridge, having crossed the river the trial took us along the scenic banks of the Dee towards the sea. Conscious that we would all be feeling delicate this morning the hare kindly led us along the dockside so we could experience the delightful fishy aromas. A few enthusiastic hashers followed what I assume was the real trail along the banks of the river up towards the coast, the rest went up the road with no flour in sight. The rumour was that Cinders knew where she was going so we should follow her rather than flour, most of the hungover bunch opted for this easy option. Flour was occasionally spotted as we headed back from the sea into the industrial wonderland of East Tullos. At one point we passed a burger van which could have improved my ailing health, but it was closed, gutted. Shortly before the beer stop I caught up with It’s All Because and killer. So much for the “she can't keep up with her little legs”. Can I request killer comes to the next Christmas do and drinks half a bottle of gin, then we'll see who's quickest the next morning.

Beer stop had beer, and diet Iron Bru, complaints were made about the need for sugar, and the diet drink regarded with suspicion. Lots of hashers not seen since the start appeared at the beer stop, was there a secret short cut I missed??

Back to the circle, babies were available for doing whatever it is you do with new babies, standing round and saying “awwww” and “doesn't he look like his dad” I assume. I kept away from them in case I made them cry, or said something inappropriate, which is often the case.

Down downs awarded for antics of the previous night including...

• Worst dressed - Babies Arse and Tongue Lasher for wearing jeans and a nightie respectively

• A democratic vote was held for Best dancer - Tonto won for his Saturday night fever rendition

• Best Cleavage - Bruce Almighty for both upper and lower cleavage?!

• Best shoes - me, unfortunately, as drinking really wasn't a good idea, at this point I stopped paying attention and focused on not chundering into the circle.

• There was some couples down down for Arse Slapper and his missus, one for Numbskull, and maybe someone else for sleeping at the party and a new runner who may be Mrs Norman Hunters Son, but may not be.

Hash convened for another week, some hashers went off to an on inn, I went home for greasy food and a nap. Christmas party season is a killer.

What?.. Aberdeen H3 Run Report 1477

Where?... Tanglewood, Cothal, Near Dyce

Who ?.... Hares Careless & Walkie Talkie

Why?.... Tonto told me!

After Hashing now for many years I should know better than to follow any rules......I have witnessed on many occasions over a long period that a profound silence at 11am preceding the commencement of every Hash as everybody stands motionless as if a Headmaster from school had entered the room. The silence and immaculate behaviour is purely down to trying to avoid having to write up the morning’s events. So my keen sprint to arrive on time (10.59 by the car clock) to Tonto`s address leaving Struth behind should secure my avoidance for another week....Alas Tonto, our new GM, is having none of that last arriving rubbish and hurled the dreaded orange garb and horn straight at me like a bullet from a gun....so here goes !

I dare say the last time Careless and Walkie Talkie hared a Hash run it would have been in deepest Abu Dhabi, so a refreshingly cool morning in Aberdeenshire would have been a complete contrast. The usual suspects fell out of their cars in at the allocated parking field and Tonto bid us all good morning and welcome....

Useless Harley came up with no relevant or interesting event from 1477....so I have googled it since and apologies Harley....1477 seems to be a non-event.... a Charles the Bold of Burgundy got killed in battle and the Daughter Mary Burgundy got married....that was it folks !! More exciting was the presentation by Aids, our RA, to

Hippo for a landmark 800 (or was it 850 runs?)...a beautiful, logo`d and personalised, fold away chair!

ONON to the run....

Wotzoff and T-Rex Cock were notable early` wrong side of the fence` runners and Tiger Feet yelled the flour is your friend as we negotiated a field full of Cow pats!

The run was a good one. Well marked, not to long and we were soon at the sweetie stop. The beer check arrived soon after and Careless quite strongly stated to a few who wanted softies that this was a ` Beer stop`....and a beer stop has BEER!.....the majority I`m sure supported the Hare on this one!

The circle was lively as ever.....

What did we learn?.....

• Tonto our GM has had a crush on a large breasted lady in Ambridge (that’s the Archers village) for most of his adult life, a Harriet,

• Golden Shower has had a crush on Sean Connery for most of her adult life, and

• Twizzle is having an absolute ball with all his new toys and prefers to not spend too much time in his adult life ! Well done to Drillbit for the splendid present of a brand new boxed gleaming red Fire Engine for Callum James ( I`m sure Twizzle will have hours of fun with it until he`s old enough to drive it himself!).....

• Re naming of above harriet was beautifully conducted by Aids and little Julie has now fulfilled one of ambitions in becoming a Bond Girl and will forever be known as Roger Me More.. (Or is it more?) .... Well done Careless for your beautiful rendition of the old Monty Python song!

• I was then attacked in the field by Privet who for some reason preferred to play Rugby with me than hug me for my big 50th birthday! Thanks to all who signed my card by the way!......

• Walkie Talkie just called me to wish me Happy Birthday and told me to not to forget to mention the very very very very nice ONINN curry she had prepared for us in the kitchen of Tanglewood so as there`s a family Birthday today I could hardly refuse...

• Happy Birthday Careless from all at AH3!

Right I could go on but my time is short down here in Welsh Wales.....for the record....I was 49 when I was given this job in Scotlandshire....and 50 when I completed it in Wales !...can anybody beat that?

Please support Run 1478 at Tollohill Woods next week with Toy Boy Tom which I will unfortunately miss....see you all in December....Christmas Carols are upon us folks !......Thanks for Thrupenny Bits double announcement.....sign up for our Christmas bash....and remember a Guinea Pig is not only for Christmas!

ONON

&

IECHYD DDA (good health)

Leeky Willie

Songmaster Aberdeen H3

Harerazor Swansea Jack H3

And from Mrs T.............

Pot- roasted Guinea Pig with Courgettes

Mild in flavour, juicy and not too gamey, the Guinea Pig is without doubt the perfect introduction to game for beginners (especially being relatively easy to catch). Nature has helpfully designed them to be perfect one-portion sizes. Because they contain so little fat they can dry out easily during cooking, but pot-roasting with the ever- plentiful courgette is a great way to keep them juicy. This recipe also works well with squirrels when guinea pigs are not available – but they are much trickier to get hold of.

Supper for 2:

• 2 Guinea Pigs (gutted, skinned and cut into bit sized pieces)

• 2 sprigs of thyme

• 30g of salted butter

• 1 small onion, finely chopped

• 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

• 1 carrot, finely chopped

• 1 stick of celery, finely chopped

• 2 small courgettes, sliced in ¼ rounds

• 25g smoked bacon lardons

• 1 bottle Cotes du Rhone, or similar red wine

• 1 bay leaf

• 1tbsp red currant jelly

Fry the Guinea Pig pieces in half the butter to brown them, adding the sprigs of thyme to the pan as well. Put aside while the vegetables are cooking

Melt the rest of the butter and add the onion, garlic, carrot, celery, courgette and lardoons. Fry until softened.

Drink the red wine and put the dregs in the casserole along with the cooked vegetables and the browned meat, thyme and bay leaf.

Cook in cookpot (for 2 hours on high, or 4 hours on low, setting) or in casserole on top of stove over very low heat, tightly covered, for 2 ½ hours. Add redcurrant jelly at end of cooking.

Serve with crusty bread or baked potatoes.

So now who’s interested in taking two fat guinea pigs off Thrupenny Bits’ hands...???

Run Number: 1476

Hare: Dutch Cap

Location: Remembrance Day run from Stonehaven

Park of pleasure by Model car racing track

Scribe: Twizzle

Just my luck I thought turn up for a bit of hash infusion and cop the pre run down down and scribe just because Gusset dropped out a prospective hasher. As it was remembrance Sunday a rather long minute of silence was strictly observed. A rather large circle was somewhat occupied by the status of prospect who apart from shrilling and guzzling white beer has yet to make an appearance.

Announcement from Aids on 1500 apparently forty nine have registered so better hurry up. Also, Hippo thanking us for support in the 2011 marathon fund raising for the wooden spoon charity. Maybe we should try a few fund raising runs to help him? GA (Tonto in case you cannot remember) cannot face a return to Stonehaven after suffering poisoning from the previous weeks beer festival. Must have been caught with a lager then?

Well enough of that and on to the trail report

New runner came along Dutch Dyke to a typical Stony Sunday of grey and slight drizzle and circle in shiggy car park dominated by rusty railway viaduct. We were not promised a short run but a longish run to which groans rose from the less than athletic looking bodies. 3 spots and you are on if you can find them as I laid it yesterday. Hidden barbed wire and the direction was indicated. The Hash surged forward to traverse a bubbling brook and then flounder aimless around waiting for someone to indicate the way.

Hare stepped forward and indicated a camouflaged trail by bridge obvious really did anyone check out the beach?

The pack quickly fell in line with normal frb's surging ahead and yakkers breaking up the rear. Eventually trial turned out to be false and the great retreat started to be broken by again up the hill and under the dual carriageway. (This was an important point to remember but some hashers with less short term memory seemed to find this difficult. A quick beat up the Netherly road and through what appeared to be through a private garden up the woods. Was this the Hares home I thought! The pack was now pretty well spread out and making hard work of the shiggy climb past the Trees. The trail headed west away from the road across farm land, Hippo seemed determined to crush the remaining crop by running through centre of field while most of the pack traversed side. Luckily no Farmer with gun on patrol that day. The trial wandered around some excellent shiggy making trainers really heavy before more forest trails just for a change downhill. Hare had thoughtfully arranged a hash hurdling competition in this forest no reports of any falls over slippery logs, so must have been safely passed by all. Or they were sworn to secrecy before the circle.

The trial turned uphill again and finally we nearly reached the point where we could see last week's TV transmitter which Twizzle and JC so carefully checked out. More woods, fields, farm tracks I have no idea where we went and I suspect neither did anyone else apart from Dutch Cap who kept turning up to break most of his carefully laid checks.

Overheard Little Shit moaning that the beer check should be on the hour and no sign of any beer yet. Eventually trial lead us to a hidden gem an old chapel (Feagh so I am told) with family of graves marked back to 1400 AD, Certainly made an archaeological moment and incredibly preserved with no graffiti. Obviously a chilling spot for a beer stop and we were directed around again by hare to more trail.

Caught Little Shit conversing with the locals trying to get a lowdown on the trial direction they appeared typically bemused before they could pass on any useful info such as Wellies much better than those pixie boots your wearing etc, the trail was broken to take us past a collection of little lakes, on through a derelict golf complex (Must have missed the greens on trail) to eventually a well provisioned beers stop. I reckon it was 90 minutes now and some grumbles of 6 miles from those with electronic Aids. The On In was interesting to some crossing the A90 was a new game of hash chicken to be followed by missing the trail and having to climb a large muddy bank this seemed challenging for some of the younger female hashers but most of the roosters took it in their stride. Finally we had a wall of death to scale with the ladder of doom to traverse to reach the other side. I wish had taken Camera or phone to record some epic attempts on this wall and Fire Flaps complaining of vertigo when passing the massive drop, at least one hasher seemed to think that you went down a ladder facing outwards! Of course Twizzle vaulted over and along with Farmer headed back to the On On where the walky talkies were waiting.

Beer wagon was shut though. It took some time before most of the pack made it back, and assemble into a sort of circle, which was hosted by the RA Aids he really is getting some senior moments with awarding down down to hashers who had already left (2 weeks in a row) and being subjected to another Courgette suicide apparently unsuccessful but don't try this on the hash warning, apparently Hippos’ are bigger than Aids. T-Rex Cock copped a down down for commenting on a named harriettes endowment for limbo dancing under a gate. Shame really because a re-enactment might have been interesting.

• All the Jocks got down downs for a historic beating in sport.

• Dutch Dyke for being a New Runner.

• A naming of Butt Slapper to add another Hasher to the enlarging pack he better sign up to the 1500 or we will rebrand him.

• Dutch Cap for an excellent trail about 2 hours.

• There were some more charges so apologies to those who were Named, Shamed but did not make the press coverage.

Urgent messages from Gusset indicated that paternity duties were required so could not make the On Inn at the station hotel to catch the rest of the crack. (Actually to catch the whole Grand prix)

Length: 8/10

Altitude: 6/10

Shiggy: 7/10

Woods: 5/10

Trail Marking: 6/10

Checks: 5/10

Obstacles: 8/10

Beer Stop 7/10

Weather: 4/10

Aberdeen H3

Run No 1475

Date: 7th November 2010

OnOn: Mergie Car Park, Slug Road

Hare: Tiger Feet

In our habitual just-in-time fashion JC and I were amongst the last to arrive at the On-On and in the rather cosy car park already I was obliged to insert Widget into the heart of the gathering circle. Whilst still busy extracting the kids' bikes from the boot and preparing my backpack with snacks, water bottles, hats, gloves, jackets, map, compass, whistle, penknife and first aid kit I suddenly became aware that the GM, Tonto, was inviting me to scribe this run. Doesn't he realise I'm not going to see too much of the trail?

The pack set off up the forest track, and the kids and I brought up the rear with the bikes. I can't say much more about the trail apart from the fact that it was a left hand loop (except for those SCB's who must have ignored the first back check and fairly soon after stumbled upon the beer). The forest track that encircled the hill was great for cycling (not too long, not too short) and I had a brisk walk and a good natter with One Cell and Nae Knickers.

We found the sweetie check and the beer but weren't first at either. I suspect there may have been a few nasty back checks out there but the only proof for this assertion is the fact that JC and Twizzle still hadn't arrived back by the time the circle had formed. Was I worried? Well, maybe just a little concerned, because I still remember Blackhall Forest 1987, when JC was only located after he'd rung the On-Inn from some isolated farmhouse miles from anywhere the trail had gone (there were nae mobiles in them days).

Down Downs were awarded by the RA Aids to:

• Mr Forgetful Norman Hunter (for being able to forget the fact that he came to last week's run dressed as a pumpkin)

• The Lost Boys Twizzle & JC (who had only just arrived back)

• Beer Festival Goers Tonto & Hippo for having to sleep off the copious beer quantities in the back of Hippo's van in Stonehaven car park

• And Little Shit (for waking up his beloved by falling over his slippers on the landing in the dark)

• Falling out, Fifi & JC (for the parlous state of their long-lived relationship as evidenced by their arrival in separate cars)

• SCB Aids (for hanging about the car park at the start of the run trying to catch a glimpse of the Walkie Talkies' map)

• White Socks Tonto ('nuff said)

• Puffer A new girlie runner who manages to both smoke and run (don't know why Aids should find this so amazing)

• Calendar Girl Privet (for yearning to snap Aids and the other old farts in their birthday suits)

• Hare Tiger Teet (otherwise known as Tiger Feet)

Pumpkin soup and rolls sold like hot cakes from the back of Hippo's van after the circle. Thanks to the Hare and the Soup Dragon.

OnOn

Fifi

RUN 1474

31st October 2010

Hare: Sir Deadmund Hillary

Scribe: Sergio

Location: Scary Hill

This week - Ooooooh! Halloween

Yours truly was testing out a dodgy calf muscle today, and after about 30 minutes of walking, jogging, limping, shuffling etc., Oneliner commented as he ran past me “not much to write about this week, eh?” and I had to agree with him. And I’m afraid that’s how it continued.

Uphill, down dale, checks, back checks - you know how it goes. Ho hum - another Sunday morning with AH3.

Cinders remarked on the quality of one particular track (very nice, yes) and the rather pleasing autumnal views (colourful without doubt), but in contrast to the runs that really stick in the memory I have to put my hand on my heart and say this really didn’t do it for me. It wasn’t that it was bad - because that in itself gives the scribe some ammunition (he can “reach for the bile-filled pen“to quote Blue Suit) no, I can’t think of a single thing to record about that run: it just wasn’t very memorable. Not at all.

Just as well there was a bit of excitement before and after! Oh yes there was. In fact it was all a bit of a blur - a whirl of colour, bizarre wigs and hats and scary masks. Some of whom I never identified. Even when they took their costumes off - but that’s another story.

I can’t remember everything that went on but here are the highlights from my viewpoint, in no particular order:

The best costumes - two standouts I thought,

Mad Cyclist as the overdressed Grim Reaper and

Norman Hunter as the big foam rubber pumpkin (great orange legs too) - brilliant! Commendations also to

Drillbit (best use of makeup),

Wotzoff (good use of prop - a shovel, but marks off as he didn’t run with it), Tonto (also good use of prop),

Numskull (mask with glasses on the outside).

The Grim Reaper acted a scene with Leeky Willie - the meaning was lost on me, although Olymprick’s “dust to dust”bit was fun.

There were plenty who made little or no effort but Aids was right to pull out those that made a huge effort which had nothing to do with Halloween:

Trouser Shredder as a policewoman?

Intensive Clare as an extra from Holby City??

Golden Shower as a ladybird???

Privet as Batwoman????

Spot the trend here - well just to buck it the star award in this category of “wrong party’ went to

Captain Nemo as a Roman Legionnaire - did something get lost in translation?

Mention was made of a hash meal - sounded more like an offshoot of it’s a Knockout to me!

Privet and Golden Shower were given a down-down for being the organisers: they had a print-out with every score from every game from every bowler for Aids to pick from, and he singled out Norman Hunter as the best over two legs (no, read it again) and he got the cup! Perhaps I can suggest an amusing handicap for Mr H next time we go bowling? That pumpkin outfit should cramp his style a bit.

Little Shit got a down down for his bouncing bomb impression. (I threw a bowling ball at someone once - he wasn’t as pissed as I was and he side stepped it. The resulting crashes as it bounced its way down the lane turned heads in a way I’ve never been able to do before or since).

The fruit crop in the North East would appear to have been a bumper one - Aids had a bucket of apples for us. Unfortunately he had another bucket too - this one filled with water.

After some obscure ramble about eye infections he singled out Ballerina to have a go, suitably equipped with safety glasses, at bobbing for a big’un. I thought he did pretty well to avoid getting his head stuck. His reward was to get to bob for a small’un. Nae luck……..

A slight diversion - two Chinese lanterns were lit and sent off to upset low flying aircraft with varying degrees of success. Not quite as spectacular as the closing scenes from IH 2006 when hundreds went up into the Chiang Mai night sky but never mind.

Finally Oneliner was dragged into the circle to show off his micro pants, worn superman style outside his costume. He was quickly followed in by

• Golden Shower who was sporting bright red granny pants over her costume, and

• Leeky Willie decreed they should swap. This was surprisingly quickly achieved, (I certainly can’t get pants off a harriette as fast as

• Leeky Willie can) and while

• Golden Shower, her bright wings shimmering, looked none the worse, the sight of

• Oneliner pulling big red pants up to his ribs and thrusting his skinny hips lewdly was not a pretty image.

• Thanks to Sir Deadmund Hillary for his efforts with the run and the food (nice cake!) and to all those hashers who contributed to the fun.

ON ON,

SERG

Hash number 1473

On On - Hazlehead car park

Hare - Nipples

On Inn - The Dutch Mill

It was a perfect day for a run considering the time of year. Sun was shining and wasn’t too cold. So decided this was a good morning for the last outing of the year of my indecent running skirt. Rolled out of bed, clambered into this piece of kit and leaving the cats to their competition as to who can trash my flat the most (have come home to three different excretions of body fluids this week) I left my flat and met Privet and Golden Shower to walk to the hash. Both ladies thought I was nuts and would die of hypothermia half way round. Nonsense!

As we walked to the hash two interesting things happened. Golden Shower has just acquired a nephew and the little tyke apparently is pulling out all the manipulative behaviour he can muster on her. Golden Shower had decided that she would like a little tyke of her own. Wait until the little bugger has a tantrum in the middle of Asda mid Saturday afternoon I thought. That would sort out this broodiness pretty quick. Still her nephew is said to be adorably cute so perhaps she has a point. Second interesting thing was two 70 year old men gawping at me in the skirt. Nearly crashed their car.

We hit the car park with minutes to spare. I enjoyed not having to park Silver Boy this week. Now a myth has arisen that I am not a great driver on the hash. Load of rubbish. It’s just that when I hit the hash car park I am aghast at the huge size of car some of the men drive (trying to compensate for something are we? Oops did I say that out loud). So horrified am I at the petrol consumption and visual spatial skills required to drive these things that I struggle to achieve perfect reverse parking. So now you know.

Initial circle was called. Congratulations to More Butt – she had a beautiful baby daughter this week. Also congratulations to Bruce Almighty - that’s now 250 runs he has lumbered round.

And over to the hare Nipples.

Now anyone who has been on a Nipples run before will at this point be expecting a run with several barbed wire fences and a good few miles of mud. He explained what flour was and what may or may not be found on the run and off we trotted.

What then followed was an expedition into areas of Hazlehead I didn’t even know existed. We hit several checks expertly broken by the front runners. The run went downhill into Cults territory. At this point we hit a corner with an arrow on it. Farmer headed off in the opposite direction to the arrow in typical Farmer style. I did see him at the end so he isn’t still wandering around Cults looking for Hazel head though Farmer never strikes me as the type to get utterly lost. We meander through Cults retracing some of the runs set expertly by Twizzle (world cup barbeque run) and Prickly Bush (trampoline and hot tub in the back garden run).

At this point I overhear a conversation between Golden Shower and Leeky Willie. They were discussing Golden Showers extreme broodiness (Don’t understand this. If I had a baby my cats would eat it. Or pee on it. Or both depending on what they felt like). However unfortunately Leeky Willie dragged the conversation down into seedy territory. Suggesting that the baby would have to compete with him for nourishment was wrong on so many levels and as I type this I am burning my eyes out to get rid of the vision it left me with. Still what do you expect from a Welsh man?

We encounter several checks. Now several of you will know that my approach to checks was just stand there and look pathetic. One of two things happen – either the hare takes pity and tells me which way to go or some fit front running bastard breaks check and I trot off after them. Toy Boy Tom and Nipples didn’t take kindly to this lazy bastard approach to checking. Nipples was spotted at several times hollering at runners to move and check it out. And incidentally I haven’t used the word Nipples so much in the written word since the time I wrote erotic fiction.

We returned to Hazlehead and a well-stocked sweetie check.

We catch up to the Walky Talkies and Privet was deep in discussion with them. Privet for all you who read my last scribe will be happy to know was wearing the correct bra this week. However I learned something from that debacle. Wandered through Marks and Spencer’s myself and parted with 18 pounds. Volila! For the first time in my life I had an impressive cleavage which Leeky Willie held a conversation with. Cold day in hell before you see it on the hash though.

We hit a nasty back check in the middle of a forest. Reverse turn and we ran through some muddy trail. Sergio had cycled the hash and at this point struggled. We all charged past him as he dismounted and pushed on. At this point I enquired if the Hare had set the run from the comfort of his Land Rover. The answer was no but he wished he had. Aids gives me a row for not blowing the horn enthusiastically. “Is that horn broken “he barks as he ran by. No but I was having a lovely day dream which involved David Duchovny and a four poster bed but that’s ruined now you bastard!

We ran past some bemused walkers who must have wondered what was going on and hit the beer check. I enquire to Twizzle if his wife Gusset had dropped her sprog yet. She is due on Thursday and this morning had a strange sensation “down below” so could be some movement. I did propose that possibly she had just wet herself. Watch this space and good luck.

Short wander back to the cars. Norman Hunter and I were talking about how our respective mothers had got on while pregnant with us. Norman Hunter had the audacity to appear on the final of Wimbledon whereas they had to go dig me out. Throughout life I have struggled to get out of bed so started as I mean to go on. At this point I realise we had been joined by visiting dignitaries Annie Bollocks and Ballerina who have joined us on the run at some point.

Now onto the circle managed by the best RA in the world Aids. Down Downs awarded to

Annie Bollocks for not making the circle on last week’s run

Privet, Golden Shower and myself for looking scorching hot last Saturday night. We apparently had been spotted by Aids out and about on the town and our absence at last week’s hash had been noted. All innocent I am sure.

Aids- Our RA received two Down Downs much to the horror of Cinders. One for giving a Down Down to someone who had left and one for dropping a Down Down.

• Norman Hunter- received two Down Downs. One for international hashing the other for asking Leeky Willie for a Halloween costume for his wife but cruelly saying she didn’t need a mask.

• New runner Heather- she is apparently studying obesity.

• At this point Olymprick and Bruce Almighty were called into the circle and it was pointed out that she had plenty of subjects on the hash Bruce Almighty - for dodging the post ASS hash munchies stop and returning to the pub for more beer

• Eee Ecky Thump - for wearing flip flops in the circle.

• Struth- for being late last week and missing her scribe for the third time

After this things descend into organised chaos. The rain starts and Leeky Willie leads us in singing in the rain song.

Numbskull tours the circle with picnic eggs multiple times. Finally the hare receives his well-deserved Down down. Congratulations for setting a good run and blowing my preconceptions out of the water. Everyone had fun and apologies if I have missed anyone out.

On On

Intensive Clare

Nobbled again for scribe! I opened my big mouth again and Tonto promptly handed me the horn and scribe vest. Pleading I was injured to no avail I thought I would be clever and take my camera and do a pictorial scribe.

Instead of leaving it in auto I tried switching from video to manual and ended up with 200 videos and photos mostly out of focus. The end and better results you see. My apologies for the crap photos, David Bayley I am not.

On On Drillbit

Run 1469 at Numbskull's Residence

Sun 26th Sept 2010

In the spirit of better late than never, employed by all those well-endowed young muscle men who can make it last for ever (yawn) in Porn films, nearly two weeks after the event I thought that the time must be about right for the Money Shot on Run 1469.

Turned out to be my own 400^th (well done Oneliner), which was nice - and totally unexpected, since I don't ever keep score.

The Duchess was posted on Point Duty and did a fine job of funnelling the Hash Cars into a lovely secluded spot (at least it was until we got to it) behind the House. The weather was well-nigh perfect for a Hash. It wasn't too cool and it wasn't too hot either, but one of our number was steaming like an over excited racehorse even before a step had been taken. By the rest of us that is.

And, no, he hadn't just been working on his very own Money Shot. Well actually he might have been, but how would we have known? Anyway, Porn fixations aside, the very brave Norman Hunter had actually run 11 miles already, just to be there with us. Turns out it wasn't cos he luvs us all so much, though. Well maybe he does. How would we know? Multiple Money Shots maybe? But really it's because he was in training for a Marathon and thought that he could get a few extra yards in on a Hash day. Earned him the pre-run Down Down; and very well deserved it was too.

The run itself started like a typical Numbskull run set from a bicycle but eventually took us to some rocky places where 2 wheels just could not have gone, so good on you Numbskull for making the extra effort. At one of the more tarmaccy points, Little Shit made us LOL somewhat as he recalled trying to get flour to stick at 40 mph from a car when Co-Haring with said N. Skull Esq on an earlier occasion, when even using a pushbike seemed like too much like hard work for our stalwart Hare.

But back to the matter at hand. A lovely run on a lovely day which saw us loop around the village park and then head South ish across the road and into some woods rarely visited by AH3 in the recent past. Bypassing the odd rabid Labrador we took in a bit of River Dee too, before heading east into some fine Estate grounds then North again to pass Mains of Drum Garden Centre. What IS that turret all about?

From there it was a reasonable trot on behind Drum Castle itself and through some scenic woodland before hooking up again with a final stretch of road - and indeed with some of the more obstinate of the pack who had been convinced that the trail actually by-passed the Castle Road, forgetting that “the flour is your friend” - to complete the loop back to the Village and a superb Beer Check outside the local cemetery. I think that's in the dead centre of the Village.

The sun shone and we tried to pretend it was cold enough to drink Gluwein, but really the beers were better.

Reluctantly (only because it was SO pleasant beside the beer wagon), back to the cars and to a Circle which turned out to be busy one on the day.

Down Downs were awarded by Little Shit with his usual style and aplomb to:-

Me - for being stupid enough to have chased flour and alcohol 400 times with AH3 now. I've loved every single one. Can't understand why more folk haven't cottoned on.

Free Willy and Olymprick for deserting us in our 1500th run hour of need, by registering to attend London 2000 instead. Gross Treachery.

Tonto, E-Ecky Thump and Hippo for forgetting that “the flour is your friend”. As I mentioned earlier - obstinate.

Its All Because - awarded by Olymprick - for demanding squid at a Hash Meal when it wasn't available and being rewarded with a truly disgusting squid /vinegar drink.

Olymprick (again) for Snogging One Cell when the poor girl had quite clearly only been going for the blow-job option. Well maybe.

Gusset, Twizzle, Skinny and me (again) for being a little too keen on mixing home decorating with alcohol consumption and suffering the consequences.

Leeky Willie, Drillbit and Olymprick (again again) for being drunk enough in Perth to follow betting advice from a man who knows nothing about the gee gee's. Horses Arses, the lot of them?

Ohhhhhhh noooooo !

Now at this point my “notes” seem to have suffered the consequences of me having had a beer at the Beer Check (that's what it's for- no? ) and then 2 more quickies at the Down Downs .

I have something scribbled about Twizzle giving Down Downs to

The Penguin, Drillbit and “Wougllm” - that's what the notes say - for trying to get off with his heavily pregnant wife while disguising themselves as Walkie Talkies.

I also have something scratched out like a hen in sand, about T-Rex Cock awarding Down Downs to “Fnnntrgb” - honest to God that's what's there in black and white so it must be true - and

Hippo. But my note taking enthusiasm appears to have faded to zero with my sobriety at that point and I really have no idea why any more.

BUT I do recall - and my carefully detailed notes back me up on this - that young Andrea also received what may have been his first Down Down for persevering in his quest to find out just why his parents continue to regularly meet up with quite the worst dressed bunch of athletic and potentially alcoholic hopefuls he is ever likely to encounter, no matter how long he lives.

Lovely Food courtesy of Numbskull and The Duchess, supplemented by some Olymprickian Stovies .

My blood sugar level was well down by then. I think I had 3 helpings of everything. And some more beer....... I love you all. You're my besht mates you are. C'mon an' give us a hug. You're my besht mates. No really. You are. Aaaaaaaaaall soooooo luuvelly. Whaaaas wrong ???? Why don't you want a kish? You're luuuvelly you are. C'mon. Give us a hug. Jusssss one leeetle kish??

On On

OneLiner

Hash No. 1468

Hare: Wotzoff

OnOn: Forgotten

It was the week after Harley and Farmers epic A-B last Monday run and AGM at Tonto's pad.

The weather was miserable, raining again. The new committee had been and elected and most of the old committee retired. The new reserve GM now showed his authority and decided as I had not scribed in a while, it was my turn. The RA then for some reason awarded me the pre run down-down. Talk about being picked on. Over to the hare!!!! No sign of said hare.

Little Shit then announced that the hare had gone to reduce the length of the run as the weather had worsened and probably washed away the flour. Normal run with sweetie and beer stops, 4 spots and you were on. And off we went.

The trail kept leading the pack up Bennachie, through the fog until we came to the check which had two back checks leading off it. Some of the front runners ran through the back check, losing half the pack, as it looked like new flour. This led to the top of the Bennachie and over the other side to the sweetie check. We followed flour, checks, back checks and 1 1/2 hours later found the hare, then the beer. Then it was a 10 minute run back to the cars where we found the rest of lost pack, some of which had already departed for their homes.

Circle was called and the song master had written a song on one of Olymprick's roller blinds which the RA and reserve GM held up. Unfortunately for them, they were the only ones deemed to be not singing (they were checking that we were all singing) so received down-downs.

The hare arrived during the circle to receive his down-down, for setting such a long-shortened trail and not scrubbing out the back check up the hill. This confused half the pack, not difficult.

Other down-downs were awarded, but my mind was already on the food awaiting us at T-Rex's place, great sausage casserole, tatties and beans. Unfortunately T-Rex could not stay for long; he had choir practice with the Sweet Adeline's, the hash had gone on for much longer than expected.

OnOn

Ex GM, Tiger Feet

AH3 Run :1466

Date: 6 September 2010

On On: Don View Car park

Hare: Hippo &Mrs T

Scribe: Bin Liner

The circle had been called by the GM and total silence descended as everyone tried to appear invisible to avoid being picked as scribe. I was hiding behind Struth and feeling smug-when my bloody dog, Angus, goes up to the GM and tries to pee on his leg.! So scribe I am.

Oneliner was standing in as guest RA and after some incoherent mumbling Megane was seen standing in the circle taking a pre run down down. Something to do with jealousy over Prickly Bush owning a Porsche and her own car belonging to her dad (Ma'z da).

A new runner called Seb was introduced-he comes from France.

The run was pleasant enough and took us along the lower paths at the River Don side of Bennachie. Hardly any shiggy, thick woodland nor off- the- track running; which was probably just as well since this was the last Monday run and “nights are drawing in”. I think we have all had past experiences of blindly tripping over tree roots in dark woodland.

After a couple of back checks and half way through the run we caught up with the walkie-talkies at a strategic check point. They were noticeably holding back and waiting for us to find trail and be on our way. The sneaky hares had clearly warned them not to give away their short cuts!

There was plenty of flour and the run had been going well, as per the hares intentions -- until the third back-check. The front runners had all back tracked to some open ground and there the whole pack was gormlessly milling around bemoaning the absence of flour on the part of the hare and the absence of initiative on their part. The hare eventually showed up and directed us in the direction of the back check that wasn't.

The beer check was held at a very pleasant location on the banks of the river Don.

After frolicking and imbibing by the river a short walk along the road took us back to the Don View car park.

Post run down-downs were awarded to:

• Sergio: For peeing in public and pretending to need two hands to hold his dinky tinkle.

• Prickly Bush: Nifty parking –for a woman.

• Leeky Willie: For something.

• Seb: For being a new runner and for being from France. A hearty rendition of the Marselleise Marsianais French National Anthem, to the words of “Ou est le papier”.

• Ee eckie thump: For organising a ski-spedition, collecting the deposits and paying the tour operator; all in the space of THREE DAYS!!!!

• Hares: for hareing .

On-inn; Back to Hippo &Mrs T‘s for their usual excellent nosh and hospitality.

Donations Wooden Spoon

Next year’s London marathon

CVRSO

MCCCCLXIV

Arrive early to find three apparently empty civilian cars parked amongst the puddles. Is this bleak and rain swept woodland a favoured spot for dog shit aficionados? Or for doggers into watersports? The Hash arrives and speculates, the three cars depart hurriedly, each with a solitary male.

HARE Oneliner arrives and explains all to a sodden circle. Parkhill Wood is the currently in vogue Happy Hunting Ground for Homosexuals, a Perverts Playground, a venue for Alfresco Transvestism, etc. View checks of dubious discarded items are promised on the run.

The run is fast and slippery, lots of flour and twisty woodland paths, dripping bushes, dripping trees, mud, puddles and rain, rain, rain. Great fun. And there really are scattered piles of pornography, also cheap electric devices for internal stimulation and empty lager bottles. There are items of apparel in the undergrowth and dangling from trees, in a place of dense woodland a pink bra hangs beside a knitted shawl, and other, less identifiable, items- like offerings at a ‘clootie well’.

Throughout the run Hippo attempts to outpace my tooting horn, but I catch him at the beer, along with Nipples and Tonto. We drink, and wait, and drink, if we wait longer, the beer will be gone. So we scuttle back to the cars, and wait there, drinking. Till the pack filters back.

As we circle in the rain and stand in RA Leeky Willie witters on, an endless succession of cars pull in and zoom straight out, despite our cheery waves and shouted offers of a mass moon. (This really is the location of a cottage industry.)

Pig Iron, and others, try uselessly to explain some pointless piss about a pensioner’s lunch, but all I really recall of the circle rituals are two visitors. A charming Frogo/Italiano Parisienne and an Ivorian Parisian who was disappointed it was rain rather than snow. Both of them downed there down downs with far greater aplomb than is now usual in AH3.

Wotzoff

Run 1463

Scribe: Goat Wrestler

Location: Cults Business Park

Hares: Pink Panther & More Butt

There was a good turnout on a warmish dry Monday evening. How many of these will we get before it gets really autumnal? Pig Iron arrived by bike and a wonderful sit-up-and-beg model it was. Not a drop of shiggy on it either!

Having most unwisely crossed the opening circle to some open space on the other side the GM handed me the orange tabard and horn as I passed him on the way across. Bad move or what?

Anyway the rabble was called to order and Olymprick was awarded the pre-run down-down for promoting the East Grinstead 1000th run in a rather bizarre way. He was shouted down after trying to emulate Leeky Willie by giving a rather long-winded and incoherent history of the EG H3.

The Haresses gave a totally fictitious description of what faced the pack – short-ish run, 3 spots and you're on and other utter bollocks. But of course what does one expect from two lovely ladies, one of whom was blonde and the other was showing signs of impending motherhood.

Anyway off we went, initially to the ubiquitous railway and thence through the familiar back streets and alleys of Cults. Been there, done it before, yawn. People were humming the Dean Martin song ¯I have often hashed, down these streets before¯.

But not for long.

After skirting the golf course and along the river the flour (and there was some at this stage) took us to a loop around the reservoir thence back towards the river, whereupon the pack seemed to disperse like a Red Arrows starburst but without the coloured smoke. It was suggested that at this stage of setting the run the harriettes were so engrossed in prattling on about things feminine that each thought the other was spotting the trail, because flour became rather scarce.

A rag tag of hashers headed east along a path falsely surmising that they would stumble on flour eventually. Wrong. Someone whispered that the sweeties were at Farmer's place. Farmer's place?? Need to get a bus from there back to the on-in and I'd left my bus pass in the car. Head north towards the railway, bound to find flour. Wrong. Met Hippo heading west and told him to turn round and head for Farmer's. Fell on deaf ears.

A gaggle of hashers gathered on the main road heading east towards Mannofield, but for some reason diverted up Gordon Terrace, thus missing the sweeties but picking up the trail and finding the beer. Those who made it to the sweetie stop were outnumbered by the walkie-talkies and the hares apparently.

Eventually the pack arrived back in dribs and drabs and the circle got under way. Down-downs went to the following:

• Tiger Feet for some rambling story about a South African hasher going to Aberdeen, Maryland and wondering if he could run with us.

• Red Stripe, Horny Blower, Privet and Champagne Harlot for not being able to pace themselves on the train trip to Oban.

• Pink Panther for 1001 things to do with a courgette. Aids gave her one.

• Aids for returning by car.

• Olymprick, who completed the run about this time, was immediately given a beer for distributing a flyer with him as Mr Awesome. Awesome!!

• Privet for beating Leeky Willie et al at risk (wrist?), whatever.

• Mad Cyclist for breaching the hasher's dress code. Not only not wearing a hash T-shirt, but wearing a running club one! Has he no shame?

All in all, a good run and a good turnout! Well done harriettes, you'll get it right next time.

On On

Goat Wrestler

RUN 1462

9th August 2010

Hares: Norman Hunter & Leeky Willie

Scribe: Sergio

Location: Comers

This week - the Choccie and Hendry Memorial Run The closer we got to Comers the harder it seemed to rain. Not a good start for a run with a promised bbq I thought. A bit tricky to find and we passed The Penguin pulled over by the Millers as we sloshed passed. Rain over, the pre-run down down went to your scribe for the day, bee or sea joke that I developed from Leeky Willie’s instructions at the circle the previous week.

With that out of the way we were off.

A bit of tarmac to start, quite a bit actually, and then a longish section across open fields and farm tracks, before pushing round some bracken to find ourselves at the beer stop after a mere 50 minutes! And..... a rare treat - a complimentary t-shirt commemorating the passing of the aforementioned Choccie and Hendry.

Deadmund Hillary had to have a fellow hasher open a beer for him as he was unable to do it himself - something that all to soon led to another beer at the circle - but I’m getting ahead of myself - never a good idea on a hash.

Bevvied up we wobbled over the tricky barbed wire fence using the hare’s aid (as opposed to Aids’ hair) and found ourselves back at the cars in no time. We discovered the bbq was going well. Perhaps too well given the state of the spare ribs, but it’s always a good idea to give a hungry pack something to chew on when they return - especially if you intend on having the circle first. Which we did - well done Aids, it works much better this way round - less chance of food poisoning too.

And so to the circle.

We hadn’t got very far before Leeky Willie pulled out a fetching pink bunny costume for Norman Hunter to climb into while telling us the long and convoluted story of the lives and recent demise of his pet bunny rabbits Choccie and Hendry. (Don’t feel down, kids - he had plenty more round the back as it turned out).

Wotzoff and I tried feverishly to insert a joke about the recent demise of Hurricane Higgins to compound things - but this reference is the best I have done so far........

A drink for Sir Deadmund Hillary, and another for Whinger and the GM for various indiscretions, as well as down downs for visitor Huge Grant and returner Hummingbird, but these were a mere bagatelle compared to the mind-bogglingly bizarre show that was Leeky Willie’s quiz. From concept to delivery it was as unfathomable as....as.... err I dinna ken fit. Suffice to say you had to be there to even get a whiff of the incomprehensible nature of this one. By comparison with this, last week’s instructions for the bbq were crystal clear.

I think hanging around so much with Olymprick is starting to have an effect.

Down down’s to the hares of course, then Aids turned us loose on the food. And exceptionally good it was too. Great salads, puds, and burgers too. Compliments to the staff.

I heard Gussett begging Aids to make her some potato salad with mint and chives - what a greedy Gussett!

I like to finish with an “And Finally” And finally, do you know what happened to The Penguin? I was told he was stopped at the side of the road on the way to Comers because his windscreen wipers had packed in! He arrived at the hash, then seeing that the rain was stopping he got back in his car and drove it home. Bad decision as it turned out.

ON ON, SERG

Run 1461

Monday 2nd August 2010

Hares: Pigiron and Stainless

Location: Durris Forest

Ah well, better a late scribe than a never scribe. Four weeks later I am attempting to recall hash happenings at run 1461. I just can’t face any more withering stares from the GM at the pre-run circle and the intimidating emails that Edithare now sends to tardy scribes which read not a little unlike my ancient school reports (“must try better, very remiss with homework, etc.). My teachers didn’t send emails, we just got The Lochgelly. Now there’s yet another quiz question for Leeky Willie’s ramblings - what was The Lochgelly?

When the circle was called to order the GM welcomed us to run number 1461. A harriet strangely found this announcement highly amusing and no doubt was to be rewarded with the horn. Not so – Whinger made an ill-timed quip in response to said Harriet and got his unjust desserts. Some of us never learn.

The pre-run down down went to

The Penguin for returning from Aussieland and for becoming a genuine OAP (Bus Pass + 5). Visitors were Megan from Pennsylvania of Ecuador hash fame and (I think) Squealing Piglet, Farmer’s Son-out-law.

Then over to the hares, Pigiron and Stainless. Apparently they trained intensively for run setting while managing vast tracts of land in Darkest Africa. No doubt they also researched historic scribes which report that Roman legions marched from to Roman Camp through the Durris Forest as they sought higher ground evading the of Red Moss and other low-lying mosses associated with the Burn of Muchalls.

There is no mention of the Romans using flour as a trail marker but we have advanced since then and were reminded by Pigiron that the flour was our friend and to place trust in the flour. Also, for this run the flour was always on the right, if it’s on the left it’s wrong, right? Which is where it all went wrong for John Cleese in “Clockwork”

And so it was on this hash. Not long after we set off, half the hash going clockwise met the other half going anti-clockwise. Using the combined brain power of the entire hash, right was sorted out from left and we then spent an enjoyable hour or so in Durris Forest.

At the welcome beer and sweetie check, rapidly dwindling stocks were firmly policed by Stainless. Greedy hashers going for seconds were rebuked to ensure there were supplies for hungry and needy late arrivals like Bruce Almighty.

At the final circle down downs were awarded as follows (best guess as my notes and memory have faded over 4 weeks):

• Orienteer and Olymprick, as rally car driver and navigator for a pretty hairy reverse down the track at the car park. “But I didn’t hit anything” bleated Orienteer.

• Squealing Piglet, for being a racer (did he bike to the hash?).

• The Penguin, for a misdemeanour about salt and vinegar crisps.

• Cat Woman, something to do with Mr Forgetful?

• Farmer, for being away all summer and having a baldy haircut (or just losing more hair?).

• Sergio, aka The Rainmaker, crap weather forecasting for the run.

• Egg Foo, for an involvement with compost and/or horseshit.

• Cinders and Aids, as the “Caring Couple”, but mainly for Cinders asking on the run “has anyone seen Aids?” then adding “but don’t tell him I was asking!”.

• And just when we thought it was all over – yes, you’ve guessed it, in comes Leeky Willie with late awards to:

• Sir Deadmund Hillary, for cracking his head on the run while failing to follow his trusted friend, the flour.

• Norman Hunter, for not knowing his own post code for next week’s run.

Whinger

Run Number 1460

Location Shooting Greens

Hare Twizzle

Scribe- Intensive Clare/ Streaker

Well it was a good day at work. For once I managed to leave on time and get home to find slightly panicky messages from Olymprick on the phone about being on time and such like. So I cut short on neighbours and go round to collect the pair, for whom I am hash taxi. Unfortunately the pair of them were late. That along with a closure on south Deeside road meant that we pulled into the car park late. Therefore despite the fact that I have an exam in three weeks, that I have as much chance of passing as sleeping with Brad Pitt, it meant that I was doing my first scribe.

In the opening circle Trouser Shredder was awarded the first down down due to the fact that she nearly forgot the crucial key swap on the Lairig ghru yesterday. That would have been fun coming to the end of the 18 mile run and discovering that the lift to fish and chips was locked. There was a strong chance that Aids and I would have lynched her. We were then introduced to our hare, Twizzle, who explained the usual including a new concept which was a trail that went into the woods and tapered out. Well glad I wasn't a FRB that would discover that.

The run started over down some very nasty ground. I had worn my very fetching if I say so myself running skirt and therefore wasn't happy going over the nasty wood. Well skirt or not never happy on that sort of ground.

Privet, in a magnificent purple running vest that showed off her bra error to best vantage, was left behind as well. Instead of a nice sensible sports bra she had instead plumped for her cleavage enhancing Marks and Spencer's finest to the joy of the male members of the pack. This made her cleavage look fantastic but wasn't so great for running down hills. Ladies you know what I mean.

The nasty stuff finished and Privet and I tried to play catch up. We climbed over a fence where there was fucking flour on the fence post. And then spent the next 15 minutes wondering aimlessly around a field. There was a very interesting sex show in the next field curtsey of some very randy cows. At this point Privet and I were very hot and sweaty. We decided to take off all our clothes and go for a swim in the nearby waterfall. Did this happen? Well if you want to know then don't leave us behind next time. Bastards!

We find trail again and head up to some random monument. We see hashers in the distance and ignore the check to follow them. Somehow or other we catch up. I get into the role of scribe thinking of as many innuendos involving the horn as possible. We finally meet up with Twizzle the hare. His lovely wife is 27 weeks pregnant. Do you know at that stage the foetus can hear and the grasp reflex is intact? Oh wait! You don't care. Its only lucky old me that gets to learn this shite.

We meet up with Thrupenny Bits and somehow or other the conversation leads onto breasts (can't think why). In the midst of all this discussion on boob jobs, bra sizes and changing breast sizes we notice our GM in the distance rapidly heading away. Poor delicate Tiger Feet was embarrassed by our chat. Rather unusual for a male hasher but there you go.

We continue on downhill and are joined by Olymprick for once giving a good effort at the running. We find a random B on the ground and get excited but no! The beer turns out to be further down the hill beside some river. Not sure which one however one of the best views I have seen on a beer check.

Numbskull I think is half naked at this point but not a clue why.

Nasty long walk up hill in the pissing rain to the cars.

Finally a delightful vision, Silver boy (my car) energies in the distance very well parked if I do say so myself. Poor wee soul is dwarfed by Norman Hunters beast of a car but holds his own. And then onto the circle managed by Cannae be Arsed in his usual quiet style.

Down downs awarded to

• Tiger Feet twice. Once for his ears burning with the breast chat and once for not educating the virgin hashers properly.

• Muff diver- a distant relative of The Penguins who is 65. Happy birthday The Penguin.

• Gusset- for wearing new shoes. Husband had to take that one as 27 week foetuses and beer drunk through a shoe don't mix.

• Privet- for her magnificent bra error.

• Leeky Willie- who dropped his trousers and showed the circle his fetching boxer shorts. Again not a clue why and most likely neither does he.

• Red stripe- for turning up on a motorbike and missing her husband's birthday

• Numbskull- for beer check misbehaving.

• Tonto- for having to get rescued by the lifeboat. His boat engine died and he had to get towed. Oh dear.

• Finally Twizzle for an excellent run.

Much fun was had by all and apologies if I missed anything.

On On

#1459

OnOn - East of Garlogie

Hare - Toy Boy Tom

OnInn - Garlogie Inn

I'd forgotten that Westhill had been closed for the week and that all traffic was being diverted to Galogie and I had a feeling that the parking area was going to be tight, especially since our normal parking spot had been closed off due to fly tippers and travellers. It was raining buckets and as you may have guessed the carpark was tight, and in all my time in Aberdeen I didn't realise it was there…..

The hash managed to park up in double ranks, ferry boat style and the rain eased off! Nice one Mr Hare.

The pack was milling about unsure what to do with itself and I mentioned to Goat Wrestler we were doing some DIY, and he responded that he'd been to B&Q at the weekend to buy some nails and he was stood in the check-out behind a woman who had bought a wall mirror, apparently the manager said to her, “‘would you like a screw for that mirror?” “No” she replied, “but I'll suck your cock for a lawn mower.”

Our usual GM was away and his appendage Drillbit called the circle to order. Not having the same crowd control techniques as our usual GM, he just picked on the first female not to have written a scribe, unfortunately Sharnie was it, which means I get to do the autobiography bit and she gets to wear the extra water proof!

Most of the senior mismanagement was missing, so Numbskull had to try and remember what an RA does for a living other that drinking hash beer - “yes that's it!” The penny finally dropped.

“I have a tarnished 250 runs tankard in my hand - who do I give it to? “ Drifted effortlessly into his mind.

“The name is on the side you daft bastard!” came the retort from Thruppeny Bits.

Another jog to the memory; she was just driving into the carpark - Why is it a woman can fit a seven inch vibrator into her half inch divot, IN THE DARK............ but she's unable to fit an eight foot car into a fifteen foot parking space IN BROAD DAYLIGHT?

After many years of waiting the tankard was finally awarded to Smiler - see you in another five years.

After what seemed an age Toy Boy Tom explained he had long, medium and short runs, with a sweety stop and a beer stop, which actually turned out to be a fizzy girly lager stop, after 3 weeks of this stuff, I was not in the mood for more…… Mumble, mumble, grump, grump!

Trail was called on and off we went, Sharnie hooting and me wondering what to write…..

We headed towards Garlogie then hooked a right into the woods. At this point I got talking to Leeky Willie who appears to be mostly now resident in Aberdeen and is looking for part time work. He mused that he had started a new job as a male masseuse, but he got the sack on his first day. Apparently the instruction “finish off on her face “didn’t mean what he thought it did!'

We hit the brow of the hill and turned a sharp left, at this point I met up with Streaker and she confided that she'd been out for a drink or two and now she knows how those poor bastards in Haiti feel. On Saturday night she’d had a few aftershocks and she couldn't find her house either.

As we got into the rougher ground Nipples was doing his usual chatting up of the harriettes (they shall remain nameless), helping them over styles and fences. GIRLS, be aware he has a new chat up line that works every time. It doesn't matter how gorgeous and out of his league you are, it's a winner and he will always end up getting his wicked way.............. “Excuse me love, could I ask your opinion? Does this damp cloth smell like chloroform to you?”

It was round about this time I got a bit confused and ended up at the back of the pack and had to do a bit of judicious SCB'ing. Emerging form the bushes, I found what resembled a wart hog wallowing in a mud bath, not Hippo, but Trouser Shredder! Do not accost aging members our mismanagement or you will get promptly dumped in the mud. Could this spawn the next generation of shiggy hashers ready to take on the rest of the world………….

I seemed to cop for a few back checks, not as many as Pinko (aka Norman Hunter), and it was at one of these “Ooh fook” checks that Pinko was telling me about how on Saturday night he'd just come out of the 'chipper' with a meat and potato pie, large chips, mushy peas and a jumbo sausage. A poor homeless man was sat outside and he said to him “I've not eaten for two days!'“And Pinko told him, “I wish I had your will power”

Eventually the split in the trail occurred, Nipples and Trouser Shredder, running in tandem shot off into the distance on the long trail. They found a nice little back check, which allowed Wotzoff and myself a bit of breathing space to cut off the tarmac and get back into off road territory. The old codger is still doing well, he'd decided to go camping at the weekend and in the next tent was an attractive girl (by his standards) and she told him that because she was so hot that she would be sleeping with her flaps open. He got this mixed up, he is now in hiding!

We eventually found the lager check, and promptly passed it by, hopefully there will be beer at the cars. Hmmmm, nearly……………

The circle was called to order, and like sheep we all formed a circle, 5 minutes later we were still in a circle, but no one was in the middle. “Errrr, what we stood 'ere for?” At this point Canna-b-arsed got a grip and I’m not sure what happened after that, there were charges springing in from all directions, we even got a rendition of the Creek H3 Away-Day Song Flush the Magic Toilet. Suitably modified for Aberdeen tastes…. For those of a musical nature the lyrics go something like this:

FLUSH THE MAGIC TOILET LIVED BY THE DEE AND FROLICKED IN THE AUTUMN MISTS

BETWEEN TORRY AND OLD ABERDEEN

FLUSH THE MAGIC TOILET FILLED UP THE SEA,

POLLUTED ALL THE BEACHES FOR THE FOLKS LIKE YOU AND ME

WELL FLUSH WAS A MAGIC TOILET, THE FINEST IN THE LAND,

AND ALABASTER SERAPHIM ADORNED HIS MARBLE STAND

HIS PIPES WERE MADE OF SILVER, HIS CISTERN WAS THE SAME,

AND DOWN CAME SPARKLING WATER WHEN YOU PULLED THE GOLDEN CHAIN

CHORUS

LITTLE SUZY SNODGRASS LOVED THAT RASCAL LOO

AND FLUSH LOVED LITTLE SUZY WITH A PASSION DEEP AND TRUE

HE'D SIT THERE JUST AWAITING, WAITING FOR HER TO COME,

AND HOW HIS PIPES WOULD TREMBLE AT THE TOUCH OF SUZY'S BUM

CHORUS

LITTLE SUZY SNODGRASS WOULD USE FLUSH EVERYDAY,

SHE'D SIT FOR HOURS AND HOURS JUST TO PASS THE TIME AWAY

SHE'D TALK TO HIM OF MAGIC THINGS AND MARVEL AT HIS WIT,

AND FEED HIM PINTS OF HARPIC WHEN SHE WENT TO HAVE A SHIT

CHORUS

WELL IT WAS 50 YARDS FROM FLUSH'S HOUSE TO SUZY'S BEDROOM DOOR

AND ON ICY COLD DECEMBER NIGHTS IT MADE SUZY'S BOTTOM SORE

THEN ONE GRAY NIGHT IT HAPPENED, THE THING HE FEARED WAS PLANNED;

THEY'D TRADE HIM FOR AN INSIDE LOO WITH A CENTRALLY HEATED PAN.

CHORUS

HE SAT THERE IN HIS LITTLE ROOM JUST WAITING FOR THE END,

HE TOOK AN OVERDOSE OF HARPIC AND WENT CLEAN 'ROUND THE BEND

WHEN HE WAS SURE THERE WAS NO CURE FOR HIM ON THAT FATEFUL DAY

HE CLIMBED INSIDE HIS OWN SEWAGE PIPE AND FLUSHED HIMSELF AWAY

CHORUS twice.........end

Down Downs :

You decide…….

OnOn

Your obedient scribe

Sharnie (aka Little Shit )

The GM non other than the venerable AIDS welcomed the dutiful gathering of hashers congregated from the vast areas of Scotland notably ABERDEEN. So run number 1458 was announced set in woods near Hazel head called BLACKTOP so Google said in fact Google couldn't find the run site causing certain hashers to get lost although hash cash ANNEY was sure it was to avoid paying especially in these hard times.

The GM gave an early down down to Twizzle for providing a brilliant weekend party.

Miss Mcplod was introduced as a visiting hasher yours truly [Superman] was relegated to scribe duties and so we were off, “that way” shouted the GM and Hare in his dual role. Only a small run warned CINDERS as it's only a small wood but having run on other trails set by AIDS and Cinders I suspected different. So it proved with the trail twisting, back tracking and up and down so many hills that at one stage the whole pack was walking uphill .Yes whole pack because a dastardly back check sent half the pack downhill through the woods leaping and calling as they went only for the flour to run out and after exploring all other avenues were forced to return uphill and up another series of climbs to join up with the other half of the pack patiently waiting at the top. More checking and more horn blowing and finally we started on a long run down through wooded paths to the beer check, bathed in bright sunshine and no flies or dreaded midges. Pleasant walk back to the cars down another track and on to the down downs, you just felt that AIDS and CINDERS had done all this before!!

So to the down downs where none other than the multi-talented GM was now deputising for the RA.

First up the GILET twins who wore matching tops and near perfect matching socks they stated no colluding but others wanted to know where they met and if the wives knew.

Smiler [puppy stroker] was then up in front of the beak for smiling at his worship without due permission.

Yours truly “superman “ was next for blowing the horn too loudly and energetically but it then transpired that he was grassed up by Miss Mcplod who had been on same holiday in Spain [yes Maureen went as well !!] Firstly locked out on balcony for hours on end forced to shout for help to passers-by miles below. Then got zapped by a laser gun from balcony of hotel only to pin point the source direct the security guards and watched as swat team squads arrived. Teenage delinquents thrown out of hotel all 6 of them with girlfriends but not before one of them had a go at yours truly in the toilets only to be sent packing again [didn't realise who he was dealing with.]

• Cinders then up for achieving a 50th birthday award but not able to drink and so the amber nectar was thrown over nearest heads.

• Nipples and Norman Hunter were then duly chastised for complaining that all they got was one a day not five as AIDS had brought a bucket of strawberries.

• The visitor Miss Mcplod was promptly awarded a down for gracing our presence all the way from Edinburgh but after grassing up yours truly should have had a dozen.

• Part of our Interhasher fraternity [Bruce Almighty and T-REX COCK] was clobbered for Interhashing and returning early must have run out of readies in these stringent times.

• Then the RA was forced to down down himself and Cinders for laying such a delightful and entertaining trail.

SO that concluded the proceedings and it's on to Garlogies

Yours truly Superman.

PS. Superman, Aids, Hippo, Little Shit, Pink Panther, Whinger, Thrupenny Bits, etc are in this really ancient hash pic….(circa 1987).

Run: 1456

Hares: Streaker & Cinders

On On: Milltimber Brae

On Inn: Old Mill Inn

Scribe: Drillbit

Why didn't I keep my big fat mouth shut. The silence created by our honourable GM each week when he has the horn and tabard in hand grows more ominous each week. We have to learn to take the act of scribing on the chin, in my case like an upper cut.

I had had the car park described to me the previous week by Cinders so I would know where it was. The puzzled look I gave her, as she grew more exasperated with me trying to explain, was because I was trying to work out where the car park was on the other side of the river.

Everybody found a parking space in the tiny car park. More importantly a space was found for hash beer.

Tiger Feet the GM brought the mob to order with his casual stance, orange vest and horn in hand. The silence was deafening. Thinking the hash scribe had been elected I opened my mouth a nanosecond too early and found it was now me!

Aids the RA brought the now relieved circle to order and introduced three new runners brought by a face from twelve months ago who refused to give her name. Be warned whoever you are, we will find out and penalise!

Trouser Shredder was given the Pre Run Down Down as she had managed somehow to register twice for our 1500th weekend.

One announcement from One Cell was the last Friday in the month meal is now on Friday 2nd July.

Streaker, our lead and virgin hare for the night, explained what the flour meant and off we went, the pack staying close together. Little did they know that an hour after the hares had finished setting their run the previous afternoon and had departed home to sunny Aberdeen, we “Culterites” had the heaviest summer storm you could imagine. Fortunately we managed the run with only a few detours. Makes for more interest.

This didn't stop Cinders leading me, and several others, up the garden path, local knowledge being a dangerous thing. I have never managed to understand how women think and typically did the exact opposite of what the hares intended.

The run took us up hill past Dad Dad's abode where fortunately for him, and his stock of beer, he was not in. Leeky Willie left him a message to show how lucky he had been!

Up past ‘Kippie's nine hole course and right into the woods went the pack. However the trail went left downhill just after passing old Culter House.

Eventually the pack caught the SCB's checking down by the river. It can't go this way says I, never having been through Camphill. Again local knowledge puts miles on a hash. The devious hares actually had permission to run the Camphill estate, with Oneliner especially admiring the real estate as he ran through.

On onward down to a check at Milltimber bridge where for some reason Tiger Feet became lost in the gorse

On down the river with the sun now on our backs to the beer check.

A welcome quaff of cider was well received as this must have been the warmest Aberdeen evening this year. Very pleasant.

A short walk up the hill and a jog along the old railway line took the pack back to their chariots.

An excellent run from our first time hare Streaker ably mentored by Cinders. When are you setting the next one?

Down Downs:

• Number Six (AKA Norman Hunters Son) for sartorial elegance after wearing the brightest Sesame Street cycling shirt imaginable the previous week

• Privet for too elegant hair extensions (on a hash run!)

• No 6 again for blundering straight over a circle with a ‘B' one meter high and not noticing it

• Drillbit, Sergio, Hillary and No 6 our token Englishmen after an appalling exhibition of football to a rendition of Deutschland Uber Alles

• Hillary for having a left arm like Popeye with the biggest GPS ever strapped to his arm

• Tonto for an excellent On Inn the previous week with a barbie at his place plus £125 raised for CLAN

• Numbskull for entering the car park the wrong way

• Our 3 new runners (Penny,? and daughter) and Missy No Name

• Superman and his better half, Maureen (Miss Scotland 57)

• Claire, AKA Streaker and Cinders for haring a very pleasant run. Well done!

Run # 1455.

Hares; Tonto and Tongue Lasher.

Where; Near Kirkhill!.

Aren't Aberdeenshire roads wonderful? [Rhetorical]. For a change I set off from home in plenty of time ... only to be challenged by a 5 mile detour because the road out of Dunecht was closed, followed by the ultimate insult to my poor little car that was the pitted and potholed excuse for a dirt track up to Tonto's.

Late arrival was followed by my now obligatory run to the circle where any hope of avoiding punishment was extinguished when my clandestine entrance was announced by “someone's” car alarm going off. It was a fair cop so I took the scribe's badge of honour without dissent.

I must first of all say, without a hint of sarcasm, that the Hash set by Tonto was exemplary. Almost perfect! In terms of keeping the pack together, superb! It's a long time since Olymprick has been at the front after almost a mile, and the long legs of Tonto made for some excellent extremely long back checks to keep the FRBs occupied.

A distinct lack of barbed wire and electricity added to the pleasure and it wasn't even too boggy.

Hang on a minute? What a boring Hash! And it was only 4 miles long! Rubbish Tonto!!!

Some of the checks appeared to be a little predictable to some of our more experienced FRBs, and a notable lack of checking on a couple of occasions could have caught them out had they not guessed the right direction, but hey ho!

A very compact pack arrived at the beer check for primary refreshments, and on return to the house, the circle took second fiddle to an excellently provisioned BBQ and a touch more beer. At least it looked like a BBQ, the reality being closer to a smoke house. It was noted, politely by some, and less politely by others that some of the burgers were possibly, ever so slightly, just a tad, undercooked and over smoked.

Once suitably sated, the pack gathered for the circle and a couple of down downs.

The main challenge now was, not to be “Beaten by a girl!” in the down downs, a rather sexist and old fashioned and non-metrosexual attitude if you ask me.

Then Olymprick was for some reason taped into a sleeping bag! I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time and he did keep his beer with him inside the bag so it wasn't a cruel thing to do! To continue with the kindness, two new hash names were handed out to “String Bean” and the “The Harlot”. Rather harsh perhaps, but when your that tall and skinny, the truth will out!!

Further abuse was handed out by “Leeky Willie” with what appears to be a well-known, tried and tested, “The King and I” act, to poor “Privet” who took it very well managing to keep her dignity in adversity.

Then the bonfire! I reckon the party went on a deal longer than it should have ... excellent!

And finally as promised information for the weekend.

There will be a “Summer Event” at Martin and Lynn's in Comers.

It starts on Friday 25th at 7pm and runs through till Sunday (when people might leave?). The main day is Saturday, but turn up any time. All Hashers welcome. Come and find me or Lynn and say hello!

There's ... Camping (so you don't have to drive home), BBQ (so you don't have to go to the chip shop), Cocktails (to make you smile), Firepit (to keep you warm), Heated (by the sun) Swimming pool (10ft from B&Q!!) bring your cossies! Treasure hunt(s)

The link below should take you to our gate. Please drive straight into the field and park up, avoiding any tents.

After making noises in the circle opposing the GM's inclination for bullying returning harrier Sheep Shagger into being scribe, I was duly awarded the task instead. Arse, that means I have to concentrate.

Circle called to order and two awards were duly issued to

JC for 750 runs and

T-Rex Cock for 250 runs.

And we're off. Well it's a Kemnay run so we know where that'll be going then? Wrong! And I continued to get it wrong at every check thereafter until the 2nd half which I walkie talkied (due to injuries, more on that later). So progressing south, we crossed the main road, up the side of the golf course &into an area we've never hashed in before and we now know why. Never been over / through /under so many barbed wire fences - thanks go to all the chivalrous harriers for their assistance and to Gem (the woofer) for towing me along one of the fields after escaping the clasp of her untrained harrier master Whinger. Great trail but please Nipples, overcome this weird infatuation for the old barbed wire! Thanks also go to Aids for testing the depth of the cavernous burn crossing for us Harriette's but not so much for the accidental crushing of my injured shoulder ;-). Shiggy, vast amounts of nettles, cow dung galore, gargantuan holes, burns, water leaps, electrified fences, field crossings, sweetie check, spooked cows, tracks, paths and some tarmac thrown in. Plenty beer at the beer check thanks to the front running b*******s going so fast they MISSED THE BEER CHECK!! Hashing nightmare! They blamed local ASBO holders for rubbing out the “B” but we know it was really because they were involved in the alarming hash misdemeanour of racing on the hash.

Back at the cars, Hash chips were duly doled out by Norman Hunter's Son - ta mate and the circle was called to order with down downs awarded to:

• Hippo - for losing sleep whilst seeking out burglars in the middle of the night to discover it was their noisy facsimile machine (young hashers please refer to history books for description of this ancient piece of machinery) and for street sleeping on quiet country lanes.

• New runners: Mary, Rihanna and Paula - hope you had a fab time and that we see you all again.

• Aids & Tiger Feet for Hash acrobatics on the r*n.

• Cinders provisionally renamed “Ashes” for climbing/testing electrified fences.

• Norman Hunter Son: for implying Cinders required clitoral stimulation.

• Trouser Shredder for coming up with rather extreme justification for buying a new helmet to match the colour of my new bike by somersaulting over the handlebars (it was a very elegant somersault!)

• Gem for badgering nearby golfers for a game of fetch.

• Nipples & Horny Blower for a fab trail but catastrophic inability to provide an open On Inn - chippy closed their doors, too scared to let us in!

Sorry if I missed anyone's down down but I was tired & drunk & I don't remember any more

On On Trouser Shredder x

Run # 1452.

Hares; Little Sh1t &Sharnie.

Where; A hill North of Kingswells - Brimmond.

As our illustrious GM called order a hush settled over the assembled throng in anticipation of what poor sap would be called upon to don the scribes hi-vis sweat rag. For once the # was quiet and no one looked or sounded like a suitable candidate to pick on. Oh well announced our wonderful GM, I'll give the scribe to the last arrivee, and then headed off in the general direction of trying to remember his duties for the night.

Let's welcome in our new runners, our visitors, any returners. Excellent, that's out of the way and we have a returner/visitor who he could introduce to us all. What's your name he enquired not noticing the LARGE lettering emblazoned across his chest announcing to one and all that he was Road Runner. It was at this point I thought it worthwhile pointing out to the Grand Moron that his name was not 2 feet in front of his nose and maybe he should have gone to speccysavers. Bloody stupid suggestion on my part as the scribe still hadn't been picked at that point. But in my defence I reckoned the Geriatric Monkey had forgotten all about it.

Bollocks, bugger and blast I said as the cunning GM passed the proceedings over to the RA. Pre run down-down was awarded to our TV loving #er Hillary for legging it toot sweet from the previous # to rush home and watch the final episode of Lost. This may be the perfect Get a Life Award for the AGM.

And over to the Hares, at which point L1ttle Sh1t gave a very baffling story of new walls and rampaging motorways blocking excellent trails and confusing him with the option of 3 beer checks, but it was definitely 4 spots and you’re on and there are loads of back checks and we were off.

The usual well laid trail courtesy of Sharnie & L1ttle Sh1t led us all on a merry rampage around the golf course, over the hill to the lost cabers, or around the hill if you were Wotzoff, through the woods or anywhere the flour wasn't if you were Tonto, in his defence he was with Harley, and eventually via quite a lot of nasty back checks to the beer check or 3. Or to a happy search for a camouflaged bag of goodies hidden in the undergrowth.

And finally back to the cars for some well-deserved beers and crisps, if # beer had remembered the crisps that is, for the happy #ers, and a pleasant circle thanks to our soothsayer Aids who took great delight in down-downing anybody for any reason and some for no reason at all.

• For being late to the run and relying on your phones internet map to show you the way, but then having it refresh to next week’s run site after 7 o'clock, Norman Hunters Son. (That'll teach him to buy a map, bloody modern technology)

• For doing their knees in on the nasty jaggy ground, Horny Blower.

• For their impersonation of Freddie Krugger with a bush whacker from Wilkinson Sword, Leeky Willie. Please note there are other bush whackers out there, and when the RA started going on about Leeky Willie's bush whacking I thought he was referring to something else altogether.

• For a fantastically organised gardening adventure, Sergio.

• For her endeavours towards topiary excellence, the freshly trimmed Privet.

• For doing a forest run in slick trainers, Road Runner. Just like it says on the t-shirt GM.

• For having the perfect doggers car, even to the point of the wet wipes to clean the seats, Nipples .

• For wearing biker kit to match his new bike, Harley. Oh wait, the RA missed that one; he must have borrowed the Gormless Muppets specs.

• For losing interest in front running after the rest of the # has caught up with you, Numbskull.

• For a bloomin' excellent trail with lashings of flour, but no ginger beer, the Hares.

• For taking 2 weeks holiday and then being laid low with dysentery, cholera, bubonic plague and various other manly illnesses, Norman Hunters Son.

ABERDEEN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

RUN NO. 1451

24 MAY 2010

DON VIEW - BENNACHIE

HARE BIN LINER

SCRIBE THE PENGUIN

Bugger me! Scribe again? I did one a few weeks ago but because Farmer the poof insisted on wearing his winter woolies until the last second I get shafted for opening the car for him.

There was a good turnout at the beginning of the run but less so at the end of the run. More on that later.

The on on was called and up we went and up and up and up fenced in on both sides which gave little opportunity to pretend to check out trails left and right to catch our breath.

Eventually a check was found which sent all the front runners up and up and up again.. To a check back! Great. That got all the tail enders into the lead ... into ... no-where!

This hare has a very devious mind and managed to confuse even the most experienced of hashers most of the trail. Even Farmer was front running up a track unaware that he had completely missed the beer check only a few steps away in the trees. The beer check was interesting in that a huge number of folks were absent many indeed who had not been seen since the car park but now refuelled we ran back to the cars on a nice easy downhill track.

The circle was called but this time it seemed to be half the size of that at the start. Where are they all? Who knows? Who cares? Let's drink the beer!

Returners were called in including

• Sheep Shagger who used to run with AH3 in 1987/88 and

• Droopy Dick.

• Original Sin formerly with Istanbul H3 joined us as a first timer with AH3 and we hope to see him again over the next few weeks.

A few “athletes” were dragged in exhausted after competing yes competing in a race? The previous day. Shocking! Disgusting! Mind you they were only in a poofy 10K unlike our Claire who took on the Edinburgh Marathon just to prove...? Something.?

A story was leaked about another race which took place last week on the way home after the hash with one or two hashers cars being pushed off the road by some crazy guy in a big black Landrover which could have doubled up as a hearse had things gone seriously wrong.

Leeky Willie gave us a lovely Welsh ditty about lice, crabs and piles written by The Bard.

By this time it was getting dark and folks turned to their cars long before the wanderers found their way back and among them were All Night Long, Koje Belle, Goat Wrestler, White Trash, Olymprick, Numbskull and Bruce Almighty plus no less than Binliner the hare.

I thought it was a great run having lost that bunch but the only complaint was that we could not wait for the BBQ if it happened at all.

Don't forget to get a team together for its A Knockout at Duthie Park on 6th June. See website.

A young cowboy walks into a seedy café. He sits at the counter and notices an old cowboy with his arms folded staring blankly at a full bowl of chili.

After fifteen minutes of just sitting there staring at it, the young cowboy bravely asks the old cowpoke, “If you ain't gonna eat that, mind if I do?”

The older cowboy slowly turns his head toward the young wrangler and in his best cowboy manner says, “Nah, you go ahead.”

Eagerly, the young cowboy reaches over and slides the bowl over to his place and starts spooning it in with delight. He gets nearly down to the bottom and notices a dead mouse in the chili. The sight was shocking and he immediately barfs up the chili into the bowl.

The old cowboy quietly says, “Yep, that's as far as I got, too.”

ON ON - The Penguin

AH3 Run Scribe No 1450

Preamble bit

There are certain drawbacks to leaving the scribe duty for such a long time, but interhash duties had to prevail. The main drawback was having a drum of sludge hidden in the back of your estate car and covered up by the covering up bit that estate/hatchbacks tend to have. The drum was as full as damit and would have made a (un)tidy mess at the first touch of either pedal. Just as well there was a sleeping bag to be put back into said back of estate car. I have my suspicions and no one person could have lifted said full as damit drum.

Scribe bit

Leeky Willie an Olymprick were in Intensive Claire's (IC) silver machine on the approach to the run site and the Haudegen poses serious driver intensity at the best of times. On this occasion a right turn was required and completely intensed the driver who went round 1.75 times in order to be sure there was no car behind. IC then drove past the hash sign and car park and the watching pack. No she had not missed the sign, she just wanted another shot at the next roundabout, where she did a 360. It was announced that one of the hares (Norman Hunter's Son) had become a SERIOUS RUNNER, and was at home on the toilet. The trail crossed the don and headed up the hill, and over the hill. The scribe did not feel like going over the hill so did a tight loop back to the car park, in the process establishing that the trail did not re cross the don via the same bridge ass the out trail. So scribe returned to car pack, took one can of boddies (amazing what one can remember after 10 weeks) and set off in an easterly direction along the south of the river. Scribe stopped a beautiful spot only 200 yards short of the site of the former mill where you lot were enjoying a beer check. Ahhh well, so far but so near.

Down Downs went to some wankers and then the car park split into 3.

Some went home, some went to the Carvery place/Toby's for the official on Inn and

Leeky Willie led some astray. To Number 10's not wishing to endure more roundabouts at the hands of IC. IC and scribe did options 2 then 3 then 1.

At 3 they caught up with Leeky Willie, Struth, Brue Almighty, Numbskull and Toy Boy Tom.

A very late and drunken night was had. The designated drivers then drove the drunks home. Some of us probably then stayed up all night playing risk......

Run 1449

Sir Deadmund of Cults hared this long hash that lost most of the pack for most of the time. Your forgetful scribe dedicated himself to running the whole trail with the horn - which I sounded off with regularity from the very front of the pack. For it was one of those hashes where Tonto's tracking skills were at their peak, and the flour was his friend. Yet still I saw only a handful of fellow hashers after the parting of the ways at the Den of Cults tunnel. It was from here that major confusion ensued when the hare decided not to use too much flour in case it became relied upon as a friend. For the flour is our friend is it not. But when it is not, or the flour is not laid, then the pack will follow its nose, and so it did - right to the beer.

Now there were some faithful, who following flour and Sir Deadmund, (liberally distributing more flour as we went), who continued far and wide to the banks of the Dee, up the banks of Garthdee, and even through the banks of Wood known only to those who live inside their Shell. Twas at the banks of Wood where we encountered reverse hashers - those who had missed the beer and were now keen to run the whole trail backwards - they will remain nameless.

On and On to the beer ultimately at the Cults Hotel, where shortculters, naysayers of the creed that the flour is friend, had outwitted the followers of flour and consumed all bar a few drops of the amber nectar. Shame on them. They also will remain nameless.

Ok that's it save for a little ditty

hare said all should flour follow to the end

In tunnel and hollow and round the bend

Yet large gaps he left clear

And the pack found no beer

Proving tis false that the flour is your friend

On On

Tonto

AH3 Run 1458

Monday 3 May 2010

Balmedie Nature Reserve

Hare ee-ecky-thump

Nice though it undoubtedly is to know that Global Warming will soon be turning the Granite City and environs into the new French Riviera, I can't help thinking that there may also be some merit in the “other” postulation that the overall change in sea currents, brought about by warming elsewhere on the Planet, will actually plunge the whole of our Sceptred Isle into a New Ice Age. It most decidedly felt that way on our Spring(?!) Bank Holiday Evening. Such was the un-seasonality of the early evening temperature that a decent percentage of the assembled masses had resorted to digital protection in the form of wooly gloves as opposed to Norton 365, for the short duration.

Well at least the crap weather meant that virtually no-one had been away for the day, so young ecky-t was rewarded with a sizeable crowd of interested onlookers for her 1st foray into the World of The Hare. Well done for such a brave decision only 8 runs or so into her Hashing career. Praise given (well deserved), hats doffed etc etc. Not many have volunteered to subject themselves to the scrutiny of a bunch of moaning (wrinkle) faced Hash Perfectionists quite so soon after joining the ageing in-crowd.

But volunteer she did and there we found ourselves, freezing noisily behind the sand dunes.

Pre-run Down Down went to a Hasher with no name, but his dog is “Heel”. Heel's master had committed that no-est of no-no's by being seen running TO the Hash. Well at least it kept him warm until the icy fluid involuntarily closed his gullet .

And so to the run. Maybe a little short of the white stuff in places, but by and large a successful foray for the first-time hare ; especially considering that she had chosen a location where the choice of route had to be either inland where no-one really wanted to go, or along the beach - which kind of limits the alternatives to straight out and straight back. Which is what we got, BUT with enough variations along the way to keep us guessing. At one point I'm sure I saw Twizzle striking out for Stavanger and young Ben was en-route to Ellon at another notable moment.

The rest of us performed an acceptable imitation of the usual wooly flock, most of us pretty much fooled by the ingenuity of the hare at some of the checks when, let's face it, we should have known better. The bit where the dunes looked like we were crossing the moon was COOL ! I know this because my step-son told me. So there.

By the time Ben had got the bus back from points North and Twizzle had flown in from Norway, the Car Park beer stop had been successfully negotiated and we all headed back for what we rather hoped would be a warming glow by the camp fire. But what we actually got was Numbskull attempting to flambé us en-masse with the Hash Barbecue and Julek rigging up a gas burner the likes of which hasn't been seen that close to the North Sea since Piper Alpha. A sterling effort from both chaps which earned both Down Downs. Sadly however, the searing wave of heat stopped short of my end of the Circle, resulting in brain freeze for me as proceedings wore on. And yes you've guessed it, that means that I have largely forgotten the recipients of the other Beers.

The current Mrs Leith was similarly afflicted and probably couldn't hear what was going on from under her collection of thermal headgear. However she has diligently reported to me that she SAW a small collection of people drinking Down Down's after claiming to have seen Olymprick breaking into a run on a Hash somewhere... sometime ... in a Universe Far from our Own. Well done to Little Shit for taking them to task on making such an outrageous, malicious suggestion.

Also allegedly seen in the Circle (but we are straying into the area of total guesswork on the part of the Scribe and his Missus here) swallowing sub-zero alcohol were Tiger Feet and Sergio- reasons completely escape me but both being such faithful servants of the Hash these will have been reward beverages rather than punitive refreshments, I'm sure.

And Harley appeared for a little throat freezer too. Allegedly this Dutch Master is just a little teensy weensy bit fond of seeing his own name in print. I say you go for it Harley! Get that name imprinted on our collective sub-conscious. If no-one else recognises who you are now, what chance will you have in another 20 years when we've all lost our minds?

Final Down Down to the Hare (Harriette actually, old boy) for a great effort so soon after her introduction to Hashing.

On On

OneLiner

HASH SCRIBE FOR MONDAY 19th APRIL

Unlike the Tardis, the car park was smaller on the inside than it looked from the outside. Luckily most people managed to park somewhere on the verge and fight through the brambles to the assembling crowds at the start.

The good weather had brought hashers out in their swarms, but we were all fooled. Things got colder and wetter and darker as time went on (particularly darker, since the hare lied about the run being shortish-medium). Before setting the trail the hare had obviously memorised the Tactical Hash Run Laying (Idiots Guide) Manual and started off with the usual well planned, pack reversing, back-check. The pack, having largely reached the age of senility, keep forgetting what the Manual says and fell for this most obvious trick about three times in the first 20 minutes.

The next ploy was to cross the road and lay a long, long downhill past bull and mega- brambles until reaching the inevitable boggy mess at the low point. We could see it would all end in tears....or at least a long slog back up the hill at some point. A few clever dicks tried deviating right, left, and back uphill in places, but eventually almost everybody ended up down in the boggy bit. This was full of young trees, water filled dykes and evil smells (so I've heard). The most successful modus operandi was apparently to follow Bruce Almighty as he just smashed through the trees, leaving a trial of debris in his wake which was easier to navigate. The alternative was to go on all fours under the trees and take your eyes out as you tried to jump dykes in this position. The smarter hashers followed the hare around the outside......

The trail led on through several fields to an area where four wide streams joined. Despite two bridges being provided, a few brave hashers attempted to cross by jumping. FiFi pointed out a stepping stone, and even demonstrated how to use it - but everyone was convinced it was booby trapped somehow and gave it a miss. One Foot tried crossing on a rotten log. This was not a success but good fun to watch.

From here the only way to go was up....up....up...up until we all hit the beer check where we found Tonto and Olymprick. They had started the run in reverse and never made it much past the beer. Olympricks excuse was that the trail was really hard to find and running backwards down the steep hill might be risky .....yeah, right ...

Downdowns went to:-

• Rats and Wee Willy for being 'Returners'

• Hippo & Mrs T ..... for being stuck in rut for 30 years with the same person

• Pigiron, Stainless and Willie..... for being stranded by volcanic ash

• Tonto and Olymprick .........for doing the run backwards

• FiFi (the Hare) ....... For laying a good run

Scribed by Mrs T

Last Sunday run

Run Number: 1445 – A to B Run

Date: Sunday 11th April 2010

Hare: Wotzoff and T-Tex Cock

The A to B run. Where would the coach take us? Questions on the coach were: Would the A and B that Thruppennies had booked for the coach be the same as the A and B that the Hares had set the trail? Yes! Would the Hashers that had missed the bus catch up? Yes and No! Particular merit was shown by Olymprik who blagged a lift on a steam train to get to B!

The run started with 2 returners, Walkie-Talkie and Careless, and 2 new runners. That was after The Duchess had doused the circle with the down-down she had been awarded for commenting on the stature of some our more robust Hashers!

The new runners soon established themselves as Hashers-through-and-through. Richard ran with a smile and a laugh. Lyn confided that she had found AH3 by looking for a web-site that mentioned beer rather than just running!

The trail set off through Rothienorman to a disused railway cutting. A check: would the trail go further along the cutting or up the embankment? Hippo ignored the check, and would have been at Waverley Station just ahead of the 11:29 arrival from Aberdeen had he not been called back.

Quietly passed the cattle that Hare Wotzoff had promised in the circle we'd see to the next highlight he'd promised: the disused castle. Those who narrow-mindedly focused on the trail and declined the small up cline to see the delight of the castle also missed its story, recounted by Wotzoff, of a branch of the Forbes marrying the Crawfords for money and ending up cream crackered! <br /><br />

The now more educated caught up with the less spatially aware who were all over the place at the next check. The more educated led the way up the trail to Fyvie Castle. Now some hoped in vain for a tranquil beer stop by the lake, but it was far too soon for a beer stop on one of Wotzoff's trails! 2 spots of flour past a check and into Fyvie Castle car park. But no more flour! After a couple of circles of the picnickers, some sort of explanation seemed in order. “We've lost something”. “Oh, dear, what”? “Flour”! The well-timed call of On! On! from afar left the picnickers open-mouthed and the Hashers now on the right trail.

So to the beer stop near the end of a great Hash trail full of variety, that lived up to Hare Wotzoff's promises of scenery of various degrees of incline, trees of various degrees of horizontally, checks around various steams of water, fences of various degrees of barbedness and castles of various degrees of ruination.

To the circle, for a naming and down-downs dispensed in style by Aids. So what do you call someone who powers up to the front of the pack, checks out the checks and, even after being persuaded to check-out the false trail that went 45 degrees downhill to the river, came bounding back to front of the pack? Rob is for ever more now named “Gazelle”.

Then to a great barbeque in the sun at co-Hare T-Rex's. What a great way to welcome the beginning of the summer season of Hashing!

On! On! to the summer!

Toy Boy Tom

AH3 RUN 1444

Top of School Road, Peterculter

Hare: Plonker

The wind was blowing on top of this hill and luckily for us the rain stayed at bay. This was the first time yours truly has had a chance to turn up and run with AH3, work has kept me in Houston for most of the winter and hence I have avoided most of the snow etc.....

Relative small pack (Easter Challenge strikes again!) turned up for the run with soup, sandwiches and Easter eggs promised after the run and the GM with his scribe vest and horn did not have far to look for a willing hasher and after admiring the rest of the Easter bonnets on show, the hare explained the usual 4 spots and you are on and off we went down the hill. Well you know the saying what goes down must come back up again!

This particular hare showed some traits of deviousness, must have been trained in the Farmer and Harley school of fine haring, and yes Plonker did graduale with flying colours and demonstrated this by not only foxing us to go the wrong way along the railway line, but also instigating a figure of eight run, and it worked well with a beer stop not long after the crossing point.

For most of the run it seems that the back runners had the best deal but Harley made it to the beer stop first closely followed by some new fit runner, whose name escapes me. In fact there are about 4-5 new runners since I last turned so the recruitment policy of the current mismanagement committee seems to be working.

The GM did a vanishing trick and it was left to Olymprick to RA the circle and poor old JC was taped to the cross again for his perennial down down representing the Lord’s offspring and somehow managed to spill not too much of the amber nector, pity no photographic evidence of this display exists!!

After the usual Hare down downs, and Goat wrestler winning the Easter Bonnet competition, te last down down went to the returnee and the circle disbanded and reconvened in Plonker’s abode just 400 meters down the road for some lovely soup and sandwiches. I never stayed long enough to find out where the Easter Eggs were hiding

On-On, sorry to miss the last Sunday run, still working in Copenhagen on a 10 and 4 rota so you should see more of me before I finally return to Aberdeen full time!

Harley

ABERDEEN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

RUN NO. 1443

28 MARCH 2010

PITFICHIE FOREST

HARES ONELINER & SKINNY WITCH

SCRIBE THE PENGUIN

British Summer Time!

That means for most of us moving the clocks on an hour before going to bed but not so for Bruce Almighty who thought he'd leave that till next week. If it hadn't been for the hash today I wonder how long it would have taken him to realize that something was wrong. Wednesday? Thursday?

Weather wise it was the hottest day we've had this summer but it was also the coldest & wettest. Come to think of it it's the only day we've had this summer so far and does not bode well for what is to come.

A good turnout with four newcomers and a new dog marginally bigger than Killer who incidently spent most of the day being breast fed by his master Its All Because.

The hare announced that the run was not too long and not too short but he failed to mention that it would entail a few 10,000 foot mountains with 7 foot high heather. Bit tricky when you are a dog with 3 inch legs. As with all runs set by Oneliner this run got f..k..d up a bit at the first check which no-one found at the top of a scree hill and at the second check at the other side of the quarry which spread the pack far and wide for ten minutes or so. After toiling up said heather covered mountain we were directed straight back down the other side to find our way through a wood. At the edge of the wood it was comforting to be with one of the hares to guide us through to the beer but it was less comforting to learn that the hare was totally lost. "Follow me! It's down to the right." "Oops or was it to the left?" "Oh shit I don't remember this bit." We then lost her as she disappeared into the depths of the wood not to be seen again till we reached the beer stop by our own finely tuned hash skills.

All in all a good run. Well done hares!

Back at the cars we found a Thains Bakery van dishing up lovely pies and stovies .. and .. kindling.. There for the taking. Olymprick would have had an orgasm if he had made it to the top of the mountain to see acres of kindling lying all over the place.

The new runners were welcomed and I hope that we see them back next week. A 200 run award was given to One Foot.

Our ex GM achieved 500 runs for which for years the award has been a yellow jumper but having requested a white one the yellow item was duly drowned in white flour to please our man. I hope he has a powerful washing machine at home.

750 runs was the achievement of Aids who for his efforts was given a silver ashtray/dog dish. 750 runs? Shit! He must be old! Which brings me to the "Pensioners" lunch which 75% of the hash attended but this was not a long lunch as most had to go home for a sleep before continuing with the evening sesh to celebrate Olymprick's birthday and an ASS Hash to get us to the next pub or two.

Van der Merwe had never been out of South Africa before. In Australia, on his first holiday abroad, he decided to spend an afternoon visiting Bondi Beach.

As he sat there looking over the sea he saw a long line of black dots out in the water and said to an Aussie who happened to be sitting close by

“What are all those little black things out there?”

“They're buoys, Mate,” said the Aussie.

“Boys? You serious?” said Van der Merwe, “What are they doing out there?”

“Holding up the shark net,” the Aussie told him.

“Bloody Great Country!” said Van der Merwe, deeply impressed. “We'd never get away with that at home these days!

ON ON

The Penguin

A lovely sunny day at Portlethen station for Thrupenny Bits Portlethen run - Version Z.

We were reliably informed that this was a not too long a run compared to previous versions, but it might be as a picnic lunch had been required while setting it. Without much delay the pack set off, led by front runners - Oneliner and Cinders, in the same direction as the previous Portlethen run. 'Ah, ah' Drillbit, Tiger Feet and Twizzle cried in unison 'it goes this way, follow us'...

The trail led around Portlethen, safely manoeuvring around the golf course and the dual carriageway, although not quite safely enough as Dutch Cap was savaged by a bramble. From here it was into the moss where they was plenty of tip toeing around in the mud by Skinny and Hillary, and much grumping about boggy smells from Farmer. The hare did an excellent job of keeping the pack together as we headed for the beer with White Trash and Bruce Almighty gracefully leaping over dykes. The three newish/guest runners were at the front nearing the beer only to strangely veer off down another trail allowing Fi Fi and Whinger to speed ahead to the beer.

In the post run circle, down-downs were awarded to the returning skiers complete with a sore shoulder, bruised bum and strained groin. Numbskull and The Penguin lead a waving at the train interlude before Aids and Leeky Willie held a naming ceremony for Ye By Gum (or something like that).

Those sinning gits who had played hooky from the kirk assembled at the Cairn Mon Earn car park for an 11.00 hrs start and included were several masochists who had been on the previous week's run and should have realized that the thick snow had not melted. In the SPL and all other sporting events, the “pitch” would have been declared unplayable; but this was a Hash and so off we set. The pack was kept together by some well set back-checks but rather than receiving the applause that they deserved, the hares were the subject of some abuse as harriers and harriettes alike, staggered through the knee deep snow. In fact, at times, the air was as blue as the flour that marked the trail.

I would like to be able to say more about the run; which was up to the hare's very high standard; but, like most of the other participants, I spent so much time with my arse in the air and head in the snow that I failed to fully appreciate its finer points at the time. For the second week running, the marking of the latter part of the trail was supplemented by a liberal dusting of fresh blood and the ghoulish speculations about its owner and his injuries helped to divert the mind of many hashers from their own personal sufferings. But then we reached the beer-check and all black thoughts were dispelled with the quaffing and we all became happy hashers once again.

After a few down-downs the Circle was handed over to Leeky Willie, who recounted some tails of Olymprick's recent visit to Wales before distributing some 2004 Inter-hash memorabilia that had failed to sell in his recent garage sale. Many thanks to the Hares for setting a very good run in difficult conditions and to Leeky Willie for entertaining us.

Singit.

Run 1439

Hare: Twizzle

Location: Sunhoney Farm, Midmar.

On a bright and snow free day in Culter I innocently departed for Midmar expecting much the same. Once past Banchory a definite change could be seen. Snow and more snow. At least the sun was still out!

Parking up in the Farmers' yard at Sunhoney Farm we all managed to find a spot to park much to the amusement of the stock in the barn.

Twizzle arrivied back after setting the beer check ominously wearing snow gaiters and gave instructions about following his green flour and how he had decided to shorten the run because of the snow.

Heading off north it was soon evident why we should have all worn gaiters as the snow became progressively deeper the further we went.

Past the stone circle, through the fields and then a big loop fortunately on roads back to the derelict Midmar old kirk.

After checking the trail then took us up past Midmar Castle (for sale at £3,500,000 I believe, a snip if you can afford to heat it as well)

The setting was magnificent with snow everywhere and we were going uphill into it!

The snow became deeper and deeper and the more long legged in our midst, such as Tonto &Hippo were at a definite advantage over us short arses following up the rear. The snow must have been 18" thick in places and more if you stepped off the trail as Sergio found when he wobbled off trail. Much muttering at the back off the pack when the FRB's had left only footsteps in the snow. My little legs have not moved so high in years. This was harder than running. The family we met on cross country skis on the same trail had more sense. Twizzle had done it three time plus laying a beer check! (At least he should be fit for the Skispedition next week)

The green trail started to turn red and redder and much discussion at the back as to who had hurt themselves. Eventually arriving at the beer check after a good slog through the snow we found the answer to a well laid red trail. The FRB's running in shorts had had their shins slashed by the ice crust as they trail blazed though the snow.

Twizzle had cut the run short although after his last few years in Newfoundland he thought the snow was only a sprinkle considering he used to spend 3 days digging tunnels out of snow up to his rooftop of his home there.

A good 'run', pretty scenery and it got us out in the snow on a sunny day.

Well done Twiz and once again a big thank you to the farmer for allowing us use of his farmyard again. Do we drop him a beer or two?

Down Downs:

RA Numbskull

Sir Deadmund Hillary missed his down down for trying to form a hash circle in an ancient circle. He manage to escape after all of us watching him struggle with his 'beemer' on the ice in the farmyard. We did help him finally after a chuckle or two at his expense

Oneliner and Skinny Witch for holding hands on the run

Mrs T &Hippo

Twizzle for a good morning out.

Back to the Garlogie Inn for the On Inn and who now have a bar and guest ale on tap!

Run 1438

Sunday 21st February 2010

Hare: Numbskull

Location: Nine Stanes (Mulloch Hill)

An edict has been issued that scribes must scribe - "or Else!" In fear of Else this scribe has complied. Perhaps there should be a carrot not a stick for scribes, such as the next run for free, a fair recompense for taking jot notes at the circle then trying to decipher them later while one-finger typing for an hour or so. Mrs Whinger has refused to type any more of "that inane hash scribbling" - it's scribing I tell her but she isn't listening.

Hardy hashers braved the sub-zero temperatures and icy roads to meet up at Mulloch Hill.

Whinger became scribe as a reward for ducking the circle in order to adorn Numbskull's wagon with Birthday Boy balloons. The crisp weather had encouraged 3 new runners to show up; Ben, Martin and Paul (also Paul's dog, until then known as Blake). Pre-run down down went to Cinders for giving Whinger's dog a jolly good tummy rub and saying reason that Aids doesn't get the same treatment is that he's an old goat not a cuddly dog.

The hare gave out the good news that it's a pink flour run and that there are no back checks, than the bad news that assistant hare The Duchess has laid a few false trails of indeterminate length.

On on and at the first check several of the front runners are off on the first long falsie, heading downhill and calling "checking 1, checking 2, 3, 4, 5, etc." This was repeated at later checks as the run took us along icy roads, through forest and fields knee-deep in snow, with the occasional barbed wire fence and deep ditch. The beer check was predictably within the Nine Stanes where the pack sang Happy Birthday to the hare and warming gluwein went down a treat.

Nine Stanes Circle: "This recumbent stone circle differs from classic sites such as Sunhoney (15) and Loanhead (13) in having the recumbent and flankers set on the edge of the inner cairn, while the remaining standing stones sit on an oval outer arc 18 m by 15 m. This variation in plan suggests that this circle was built late in the sequence of recumbent stone circles. A funnel-shaped pit was found in the centre of the circle, slab-lined and full of cremated bone. With a lovely setting in dappled light in a pine wood, this stone circle is very atmospheric."

Just right for an AH3 beer check then.

At the circle down downs were awarded to:

• Tonto - The new pensioner and available for odd jobs.

• Hillary - For a very long yodelled Oooooooon oooooooon which was actually heard by Aids. (Aids admitted to struggling in the ear department and there was suggestion of a renaming to Hearing Aids. What if he struggles in the marital department?)

• Horny Blower - For sending the scribe write up to the wrong email address. The (former) friend who received it is now concerned about Horny Blower's mental welfare.

• Singit - For his new winter beard.

• 3 New Runners - Aids noted that Paul's dog had been renamed Heel on his first hash run and that one of the other new runners was so unimpressed by the atmosphere of the stane circle that he hadn't noticed it while standing in the middle.

• Whinger - Yet again his dog Gem gets him a down down (from the dog bowl), for interrupting Aids while he was searching for his willy and whacking a bigger stick than Aids' own down in front of him at such a tricky moment.

• Hare - Not enough barbed wire.

On on,

Whinger

Parked up on the waste ground beside the Banchory businsess centre and the trail led behind. 2 new hashers today Victor and? (Sorry i know i asked several times but still forgot her name [Katrina - Ed]) and visitor from Dubai called Brod (no it’s not a typo.) Should have kept gob shut as Tiger Feet was looking for a scribe.....Started off well so i thought until it was mentioned i wasn’t blowing the horn enough so i duly obliged! Should have ignored the comment me thinks.....

Wondered where we would end up as the woods which we hashers like to run through well most had been chopped down to accommodate the new housing estate. Well what a surprise i got...five minutes into it we couldn’t tell where we were as the route had a few twists and turns to disorientate us all. Not a house in sight. Lots of mud and woodland and slopes and the beer stop included mulled wine and chicken wings (sorry you couldn’t make it B'arse) and they were really good. (B'arse wants to know why the food is always better when he's not there).

Finished up about 300 yards from where we started but it was well laid out and fooled me as I live about another 300 yds from there!

Down downs for Brod, covered in blood (doesn't he know not to do short cuts through bracken) and in borrowed clothes (I think Aids provided) as his luggage never turned up and he complained about the clothes and for those of you who didnt get to on in at Skinners that day he was making the most of lost luggage allowance - you should have seen the smooth operators clobber! Victor announced he was a runner and got booed for that, and didn’t like beer (what?) wonder if he'll be back. New lady hasher hope to see again.

All in all a good run.

On in Skinners.esert

Hash Run 1434 from viscinity of Blairdaff on Sunday 24th January 2010

was brought to you by Willie Wotzoff - reminiscences by JC

The receding snow revealed a carpet of squelchy mud at the OnOn, a largish clearing at the woodland entrance, just north of Dalfling. The lack of hash signs combined with lack of grey matter resulted in several Hashers overshooting or more generally exploring the surrounding network of rural roads.

Those in the know (i.e. them wot had consulted the Hash website) arrived sporting a splash of tartan, or some other sartorial nuance evoking the memory of our famous bard. Emily bore a strong resemblance to a Primark (oops, I may have meant primate), as she flounced around in her shaggy cloak of tim’rous beastie skins. Undoubtedly she was the ‘mostie toastie’, but it was Twizzle, looking like some Neolithic Scots stereotype, who got the beer.

Wotzoff delivered a rendition of something that Burns might have penned on an off day, before casting the pack upon the rainswept terrain. The hash squelched its way along the rutted track, Stainless executing some neat ballet manoeuvres in the forlorn hope of retaining dry socks.

Wotzoff’s trail ducked and dived through the wood, across the road and back, before heading across some open marshlands towards the appropriately named Boghead Wood.

Footnote:

Unfortunately the next page of the scraps of paper upon which the exciting conclusion to this narrative was recorded has been lost in the mists of time, along with the record of down downs awarded before the group transferred to the Bennachie Lodge Hotel in order to stave off hypothermia.

JC

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run No 1433

Sunday 17th January 2010

OnOn: Kingswells Park and Ride

Hare: Hippo

Scribe: Fifi

OK, OK, I give in. What follows are the recollections of an errant scribe finally brought to heel by the repeated attentions of the RA.

In this, the worst winter of the millenium, Hippo had wisely switched his On-On from some far-distant inland mountain peak to the relatively benign surroundings of Kingswells Park &Ride car park, where much of the snow had actually melted and most people were able to navigate their vehicles without incident. Of course, Hilary, with his oh-so-useless-in-the-snow BMW was still slipping and sliding all over the place requiring occasional “assistance” from other hashers gathered there.

We made the most of the sunny interlude that day. Hippo decided to reduce, reuse and recycle the pack down to the bottle banks at the bottom of the car park whilst he surveyed progress from the bus terminus. Eventually, we set off enthusiastically, north along the Kingswells by-pass, only to be returned by a back check to the consumption dyke, which we then slipped and slid our way along, much like Hilary's BMW in the car park. Drillbit filled us in on the history of the dyke, which although it can be seen by satellites in space, isn't a remnant of Roman occupation after all, but simply a place to put all the rocks and stones that Farmers have been digging up for several hundred years in an effort to create usable agricultural land.

Having negotiated our way along the top of the wall without major injury, and through some scrubby woodland, the trail headed towards Brimmond Hill. Up the gorse-covered slope we went before breaking out over a fence and across some fields, following Little Shit, as he whispered, On-On. Are we going to the top? Wondered Tiger Feet as he plodded after. MadCyclist, Little Shit and Farmer headed to the depths of the intervening valley convinced that they were, whilst the more prudent members of the pack stuck to the higher ground and were proved to be wiser as the aforementioned three were turned by another back check.

The trail continued along a farm track and then round the perimeter of a field giving the slower runners time to catch up as they short-cut across the corner. Down to the by-pass and across into Kingswells. We slipped and slid our way up the icy path to a wooded area behind the houses and quaffed beer overlooking the site of Stewart Milne's would-be football stadium.

Back at the cars, there were probably lots of down-downs but you can't expect me to remember them after all this time. What I do remember is the excellent homemade soup made with vegetables grown and cooked by Hippo's fair hand, and served up by him and Mrs T from the back of the magic van, which, like the tardis, seems able to contain more than you imagine is possible.

OnOn

Fifi

Run 1431: 3rd of January 2010

Hares: Farmer &Tiger feet

Location: Farmers yard and surrounding area

This week: The first run in 2010

It was a cold sunny day also at Farmer's place. At around 11 AM a circle was called and Goatwrestler was given a down-down because he had run 200 runs and he was also issued with a new T-shirt which he had to wear it next to the skin. After some struggling he managed to get the shirt on which was speeded up by the icy snow which was thrown at his bare body part.

[Sir Deadmund Hillary was also awarded a drinking vessel for 300 runs – Ed].

Soon afterwards all were informed that the run was outside Farmers yard. Dutch Cap and Tonto went left, which was a dead end the rest went right. All roads were covered in snow and ice. The hares had use an undefinable mixer as markers which was blended perfectly with the snow and ice so it made the run very difficult. Also most of the markers were behind lantern posts or other road obstacles impossible to see from any distance. All these handicaps caused an extensive checking of the trail for the first half hour. Eventually the trail was found and headed to the ski-slopes. From there it turned right and the first refreshment spot was just across the entrance to the Norwood Hall hotel. Most of the hashers made it and before they stiffen all up, the run continued towards the old railway line direction cults. At Cults the trail bended to the right to Cults centre. At this spot some of the hashers followed the false trail (Little Shit and Dutch Cap) but they combined forces and found the trail which went along the North Deeside road and up Abbotswell road. At the top the trail turned to the right and run all the way to Springfield road. Here was the problem again to find out where the trail was heading. But Tomboy found it as it was heading towards the Tree Tops hotel. Across from the hotel it turned right when the front runners spotted the “Beer car” which was irregular driven by Tiger Feet (slippery road?). So that was easy enough to follow it as it could not drive very fast due to the road conditions until it parked at the Parking space across from Johnstone Gardens. It was about time as the pack was getting thirsty. Most of the “runners” were there. From that parking spot it was not too far away to Farmers Yard and the mulled wine. Total time 2 hours.

When the circle was called Dutch Cap and Tonto got a down-down of running to a dead end street. Followed by a down-down for birthday boy Tonto and a down-down

For Tiger Feet as the hare in charge. Than it was spotted that one of the hashers, Leekie Willie, was wearing new shoes. As per hash custom, he had to drink from his new shoe.

The same hasher was getting his” Virgin New Year” treat which he accepted gallantly.

Scribe: Dutch Cap