Lune Valley Hash House Harriers

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R*n 55 location

R*n 55 started from Melling Hall, Melling and the On Inn was Royal Oak, Hornby.

Who ran 55? - data up to & including this r*n

Hash HandleHareHoundTotal
Agent Orange - Hare101
Atomic Caton - Hare31417
Bubbles143448
Cousin It12627
Fugitive Nipple044
Hash Drunk93948
Lurch73542
Malfunction011
Pick Me Up93746
Slackbladder83240

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Sunday 8th December 2002 at 11:00am

DaytimeR*n 55 »

Melling

This morning I accomplished a week's ironing before setting off to Melling.  It's relevant to the story.  It's also a miracle.

Big car park at the Melling Hall, a small knot of hashers wimpering in the cold.  Atomic Caton didn't tell you all she'd promised me a Wagon Wheel did she?  Otherwise you'd have stampeded.  So I faced the bitter cold hoping she might have even brought the ones with jam in (blue wrapper for future reference).

It was bracing.  Slackbladder was wearing so many layers he looked like a big brother contestant preparing for the poor side.  He'd sold his house to buy a fine balaclava back in 1987 which, just to cheer us up, he put on the top of his head to look like a smurf.

Atomic Caton told me she'd made the run extra long just for me.  I thought that was nice.  Maybe two Wagon Wheels then.  Malfunction introduced himself, Atomic Caton said something about ducks and geese, and then we set off and I followed lethargically.

Soon we all had a lovely walk round a field that wasn't on the route, but it was pleasant anyway, and I found an interesting plantation for young trees at the far end which I thought was far enough away from the madding crowd for a spot of contemplation sometime.  I saw the retreating hashers had found the trail back where Slackbladder had stood on it.

There followed a fine long run along the tracks and lanes leading to Wrayton.  A super, dry clear day, though overcast and chill, with fine views and scenes.  At the beer stop I left my fellow hashers haranguing three friendly walkers on the benefits of hashing and got my Wagon Wheel.

It wasn't a jammy one.

I didn't put it all in my mouth in one go like I used to when I was 12.

But it was a Wagon Wheel.

And then someone realised there was no Malfunction with us.  But that was okay 'cos he'd paid his cap.  But no, he's got the horn.  Then some human compassion emerged, and a rescue plan was hatched while munching biscuits.  Happily though he appeared soon and Lurch went to accompany him in, while old Xmas jokes got their first airing this year.

Aside, I've been making mental notes on the general treatment of hash children and I noticed that Cousin It was covered in mud while Pick Me Up who'd been with her was squeaky clean.  I quietly asked Cousin It who said she'd fallen, but to me it looked as though she'd been pushed and squashed in it.  I said nothing.

Then Atomic Caton said something about a bull, and the virgin Jim said something veterinological about the bull too - a limosine - but that's 'cos he Knows about bulls, and vehicles too.  I trust him.

There followed a great run along the flood bank by the river, past our three walkers who are now fans of ours I think, eventually to the daunting sight of the Lane of Mire and Slimy Gloop.  It looked horrible.  I realised this was a test for a hasher without securely fastened shoes.  Fortunately I was first there and slipped and scrambled along the hedge side a good distance along then stopped to watch the entertainment sure to follow.  Bubbles impressed me greatly.  He boldly ran right through the whole lot without slipping or falling over or sinking out of sight.  Maybe there's something spooky about this guy.  Slackbladder scrabbled along the bank like me but then jumped in for a dashing and daring run.  Hash Drunk clung to the hedge, sensibly.  Slackbladder reckons the LMSG is a must for the 75th - you have been warned.  Then he pointed out Bubbles was wearing his fell running shoes with the laces done up tight, so he's probably not levitating after all.  We ran on while I thought of challenging Bubbles to run that again in fluffy bedroom slippers.  There was more gloop, but no avoiding it.  The virgin (and vet) Jim had clearly darted a big bull in the field over the hedge, just in time for it to get amorous towards it's herd and though none of us were receptive at that moment, if ever, we weren't chancing a detour.  It was then I had a vision of attempting extreme ironing.  Slackbladder and Bubbles holding the board while I iron a shirt, racing down the LMSG pursued by a darted bull.  Dangerous, skilful, spunky.  Of course a rerun attempting extreme vacuuming out of the question in those circumstances.  Anyway, maybe I'll keep that thought to myself I thought.

My shoes had enough gloop on them to build a mud hut for a small family plus their goats.  It was at this point I'd like to protest it was Bubbles what started it (jumping in gloopy puddles) not me and though I retaliated Beckham-like by pushing him in the next one, it was Slackbladder that got in the way and I didn't intend to splash him (not this time).

We took our turn to clean shoes in the stream, but mine still pong now.  Never said anything about that when I joined...

So, the down-downs:

  • Atomic Caton & the virgin Jim: for an excellent run (it was short - FN) but disproportionate shiggy at the end 
  • Lurch & Malfunction: mainly Lurch 'cos he lost the horn and can't blow it anyway but Malfunction had it and he can and that's... symbiosis (ask Pick Me Up, she knows)  
  • Pick Me Up: for dropping Cousin It in it
  • Slackbladder: for calling me Renegade Nipple (I like Renegade and Fugitive, sound caddish don't they?)  
  • Me (Fugitive Nipple): for splashing Slackbladder (it was worth it)
Fugitive Nipple

Write up by Fugitive Nipple

14th December 2002 at 5:53am