Lune Valley Hash House Harriers

Monday 26th October 2020
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R*n 258 location

R*n 258 started from Village Green, Priest Hutton and the On Inn was Longlands Hotel, Tewitfield.

Who ran 258? - data up to & including this r*n

Hash HandleHareHoundTotal
Master Baker - Hare75966
Upperskirt - Hare14139153
Feels on Wheels85967
Major Twit898106
Minor Twat118495
Off His Trolley97483
Simple (Visitor)022
Slack Haddock044
White Noise76673

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On Inn - Longlands Hotel, Tewitfield

Image of Longlands Hotel, Tewitfield

This was our 5th visit. We also visited on...

With nooks and crannies, old beams and a bit of an uneven floor, our bar is typical of an old-fashioned country pub where villagers meet to relax and welcome visitors to this lovely corner of the English countryside. Our wide range of hand pulled ales will capture the imagination of anyone who loves real ale, for others we have a selection of lagers, bitters, and unusual spirits.


Sunday 13th April 2008 at 11:00am

DaytimeR*n 258 »

Priest Hutton

Not since 1066 have there been so many rumours of French invasion and that one was far away in the South but this one entered the Duchy of Lancaster and was the talk of Lune Valley for the whole weekend. We are used to foul language on the Hash but today we had to endure the unintelligible Gallic tongue.

It was an unexpected fine morning in the virgin territory of Priest Hutton, blessed with a previously pristine village green and delicate daffodils (now sadly trampled). Since the coronation of Good Queen Bess there has been a fine concrete bench suitable for the entertainment of village idiots – and it was well used today.

A visitor from Guildford, whose appellation I forget (ed. his hash handle was Simple), overshot the London Marathon and ended up in Priest Hutton to run with us, then vanished before the On On, eager to return whence he came.

At the off we all searched for Priests but found none, so set off past some Hutts instead, searching for flour. Up hill and down dale we ran, through gates and over stiles, pausing only to dodge a posse of bicycles racing down a tarmac lane. At the sign of the fish-hook we all turned back and retraced our steps, back and back and back until we thought the knitting circle had been carried off by the bicycles. Finally they appeared, still spouting Gallic, and we all plodded on to the beer stop.

After more fields and more stiles, more splits, more shiggy and more gates we finally saw the welcome chimneys of Priest Hutton again, with the village idiots waiting patiently on the Queen’s bench for our return.

A profusion of down-downs was given for assorted misdemeanours; including:

  • The Hares for being hares
  • Major Twit and Highway for Short Cutting after the fishhook
  • Assorted French speakers for using bad language
  • Major Twit and Morticia for lack of haberdash (again)
  • Various others for various other dreadful deeds

There being no hostelry in Priest Hutton we hied away to Longlands at Tewitfield for our foaming tankards, where a splendid repast was laid before us after some lengthy delay.

On On


Write up by Highway

19th April 2008 at 5:53am