R*n 354 started from the On Inn - Royal Oak Hotel, Garstang.
Hash Handle | Hare | Hound | Total |
---|---|---|---|
Bitter - Hare | 22 | 117 | 139 |
Twisted - Hare | 22 | 123 | 145 |
Baldbrick | 17 | 177 | 194 |
Feels on Wheels | 18 | 91 | 109 |
Lurch | 38 | 191 | 229 |
Morticia | 33 | 177 | 210 |
Sax Maniac | 0 | 5 | 5 |
Sir Tom Tom | 10 | 53 | 63 |
Upperskirt | 19 | 223 | 242 |
Wednesday | 4 | 88 | 92 |
Click the header columns to change the sort order
10
This was our 1st visit. We also visited on...
17th century coaching inn serving Robinson's real ales.
August 24th, 2010. A day that will go down in the annals (or even the anals) of history. The day that hashing turned violent.
The evening seemed to start so well, too. As Bitter recited a rather long list of rules and regulations for the impending r*n and Twisted wrote down the names of all the absentees so that she could exact her terrible revenge on them later, the church clock struck seven, and Baldbrick, Feels On Wheels, Upperskirt and myself exchanged glances of palpable relief: only the level-headed, responsible hashers had turned up, and we could enjoy a nice quiet r*n without any troublemakers to spoil things.
Our hopes were soon to be dashed, however, as suddenly the Addams family's armoured people-carrier loomed into view. Our hearts sank as we realised that they were still holding Sax Maniac prisoner; guarded by Lurch, Morticia, Wednesday, a restraining seat-belt and childproof locks on the doors, the poor lad had no chance of escape.
Tension was high as we hoofed off into the great unknown. Sensing trouble, our hares had given us tasks to perform to keep us occupied; we were supposed to count the number of bridges and stiles crossed. Sadly, none of us had ever mastered all that divide-by-ten-and-carry-one-forward stuff, and as soon as we ran out of fingers to count on, our thoughts began to turn to causing mayhem.
The beer stop (I call it that, even though the hares had restricted the beverages on offer to softies in an attempt to prevent drunken brawling) was where it all kicked off. In a fit of violent rage, Baldbrick hurled the contents of a canister of dihydrogen monoxide at Sax Maniac, temporarily incapacitating him. Morticia, angry because only she and her husband and daughter were permitted to assault the victim, instantly retaliated, and the hares decided to move us on before things got totally out of hand. I didn't actually see any more fighting, but it looked as though Feels had been injured in the fracas, as she seemed to be limping badly for the remainder of the hash.
Thankfully, there were no more major incidents, although yours truly did think at one stage he'd blundered onto Aintree race course when he was almost trampled underfoot by a stampede of equine quadrupeds.
After the usual ritual humiliations of the down-downs, Sax Maniac was awarded the prize for correctly counting the bridges and stiles. The rest of us were glad we hadn't bothered.
At the on-inn (the Royal Oak) we were a little puzzled by the 45 minute wait for our food. It later transpired that Twisted had ordered the putting to death and immediate cooking of the brazen bovine beast which had had the temerity to lick up her fish-hook in the field before the "beer" stop. Made a great steak and kidney pie, though.
And so, back to Brookhouse for a quick pint at the Bull. Embarrassingly, Baldbrick was still carrying his collection of musical instruments on him, attracting a saucy "Feeling horny?" comment from the landlady!
Many thanks to Bitter & Twisted for a fun evening!
Write up by Sir Tom Tom
23rd October 2010 at 8:01am