Lune Valley Hash House Harriers

Monday 14th October 2019
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R*n 328 location

R*n 328 started from the On Inn - White Bull, Great Eccleston.

Who ran 328? - data up to & including this r*n

Hash HandleHareHoundTotal
Bitter - Hare20103123
Twisted - Hare20107127
Antiseptic34143177
Baldbrick15156171
Bubbles44193237
Cyberseptic39131170
Forever Blowing33191224
Lurch35176211
Morticia30165195
Pudsley36972
Sir Tom Tom63238
Upperskirt18199217
Wednesday47983

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On Inn - White Bull, Great Eccleston

Image of White Bull, Great Eccleston

This was our 1st visit to this On Inn.

A nice busy pub in the square in Great Eccleston. The pub serves food daily and is of a high standard. There are six cask beers on the bar, four of which are guest beers and changed weekly. The pub is open 11am-11pm. This pub is well worth a visit.

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Sunday 27th December 2009 at 11:00am

DaytimeR*n 328 »

Great Eccleston - Belated Boxing Day R*n

Much like the mob, LVH3 is apparently impossible to escape, even if you travel across the Pennines and pretend to bury your head in academic work. Morticia’s increasingly threatening phone calls, all the finger tips in the post and a constant fear that Bitter or Twisted will turn up in York to kneecap me has finally prompted this token write up.

The run took place at some point over the festive period, in some obscure village in the no-man’s land between Lancaster and Preston. Britain was of course coming apart at the seams because an unusually large amount of snow had locked up the infrastructure, so the turnout wasn’t huge – most Hashers were too busy stockpiling cheap lager and oven chips, then climbing into straw-filled cardboard boxes to sit it out until the spring. Those that did make it had adorned themselves with tinsel and santa hats, which Baldbrick had strangely allied with a Harold Shipman beard, presumably to ward off errant pedestrians who might cross his blundering path.

Once assembled, the hares invited us to set off down ‘dog shit alley’, which was a sheet iced route out of the village and into the open countryside, where exciting new varieties of frozen water awaited. There was soft and deep frozen water, slippy frozen water, melted-but-still-very-cold frozen water, crunchy frozen water, as much frozen water with no dry land as you can fit between two styles and a few other varieties besides. After what seemed like a long time experiencing these, the Hashers finally emerged at the beer stop for a mini-roll and the chance to stand around and get a little bit colder, before finally heading uphill and back into the village.

After a brief circle in which it was firmly agreed that most of those present had managed to look like drunks on an ice rink at some point over the last hour, we headed into the White Bull, apparently preferred by Bitter and Twisted over the Black Bull across the road. The Hashers tutted and muttered accusations of racism, before guzzling all the beer and wolfing down their meals. Hypocrites.

Pudsley

Write up by Pudsley

13th February 2010 at 5:55am