#239
Date:
Januray 31, 2013
Pub:
The Mitre Oak, Crossway Green nr Stourport
Beers
etc:
Banks’s mild and bitter, Guiness, Kronenburg. Strongbow
Food: Two- for–one off the menu.
Hares:
Cross-Dresser and Hotlips
Visitors:
None
Virgins:
None
A humdinger of a hash,
it has to be said. Cross-Dresser and Hotlips linked ideas and innovation to
direct us from the Mitre Oak into the blackness of a typical wintry night,
except that they cleverly defied six months of monsoon conditions to keep
squelchy mud and puddles to a bare minimum.
Not all made it to the
start. A handful of myopic hashers (including Cyclopath on the wrong path) misread
the Mitre Oak on the A449 for the Land Oak in Kidderminster on the A456. All credit to those bashful bunglers who
eventually made it to the right venue, under the watchful eye of a waiting
Cross-dresser to point them in the right direction.
The terrain was a
typically challenging assortment of country lanes, fields, paths and in the final third, a
superbly-chosen uphill ravine which needed nimble footwork and fierce concentration. Along the way, a flooded River Severn loomed
ominously on our right and earlier, the view across the valley to a brightly
illuminated Stourport-on-Severn was one of the highlights of a lovely evening.
To cap a cracking hash,
the general consensus was that Cross-Dresser and Hotlips devised the best On-In
ever. If only the incomparable Saint had
been there to enjoy it. Still, we celebrated the birthday of this very special
friend and we also marked the promotion of Copulation from good-cop-bad-cop constable
to the exalted and much-deserved rank of Inspector. Perhaps a hash name-change might be in order
sometime. If there had been a last-minute hunt for the missing hashers at the
Land Oak, Inspector Morse would have been our man.
Down-Downs:
Too numerous to mention. They know who they are. Of course, tribute to
Cross-Dresser and Hotlips for an inspired hash and suffice to say that the
wayward Land Oakers had no escape. And
yet there has to be special mention for a newly-named “Gatecrasher”, for unwittingly
trashing the countryside. Again, he knows who he is!
Get Down Shep
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