Lune Valley Hash House Harriers

Thursday 22nd February 2018
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R*n 595 location

R*n 595 started from the On Inn - Eagles Head, Over Kellet.

Who ran 595? - data up to & including this r*n

Hash HandleHareHoundTotal
Antiseptic - Hare57302359
Cyberseptic - Hare72288360
Baldbrick35371406
Biscuit Bandit011
Bubbles69305374
Darth Vader24648
Dover Soil31215
Forever Blowing60305365
Four Candles077
Group Sax033
Major Twit27187214
Minor Twat20174194
Nipple Tweaker022
Shiggy Pop41822
Sir Tom Tom38207245
Small Bush011
Tightarse01111
Twiglet011
Uncle Hardon033
Upperskirt33425458
Virgin: Viv011

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Friday 16th September 2016 at 7:00pm

Full MoonR*n 595 »

Over Kellet - Cyber's birthday r*n

You'll remember the film "Close Encounters of the Third Kind"? Well, for the last few weeks I've been dreaming about a country public house set under a harvest moon that serves excellent ales and good food. I've been drawing pictures and building models of this unknown place. I thought I was going out of my mind.

Tonight, it all became clear. Not just to me but to other disparate and desperate people from all over the planet. Tonight, they converged on Over Kellet where their dreams became reality. I thought I might even see the sexagenarian Steven Spielberg but alas we were greeted by a sexagenarian of advancing years, the soon to be 64 hare, Cyberseptic.

Under that harvest moon we ran through the lanes and byways of a land unchanged for centuries by the modern ways of this world. Down green lanes and well trodden paths we celebrated the full moon which shone resplendent in a clear, late summer sky.

Limestone outcrops and hand hewn quarries. Nettle strewn pathways and lowing cattle. All that was missing was a soundtrack from Ralph Vaughan Williams to bring home the Englishness of the ripe, plump green palette of this land's finest countryside.

Twinkling lights of far flung villages competed against the moon's rays for our attention. The clear air rippled with the excitement of a late summer evening as twilight descended, almost unseen by those concentrating on the boggy ground underfoot.

Then it happened, just as I'd pictured. We arrived at a country public house set under a harvest moon. The aroma of fine ales brewed by master craftsmen mingled with that of freshly prepared fare. We were drawn by an unknown force into the bowels of the building where we consumed and quaffed amidst a friendship that bound us together. A universal force that we know to be hashing.

It was around the board of ale and fine fare where those new to the fraternity were named, as was their right after three runs. Frances was named 'Group Sax' and Gareth was named 'Uncle Hard On'.

As we returned home the fireflies illuminated our route and the beer faerie laid me to rest upon my pillow.

Minor Twat

Write up by Minor Twat

16th September 2016 at 10:36pm


  1. Twisted
    Twisted Very fine words MT! You should be on the stage!
    22nd September 2016 at 10:20am