Monday, 31 March 2014

Hare & Hounds too!

300th Birthday Hash PART 2!
…and so there it was, the most wonderful sight to behold from afar, an array of twinkling white lights spreading out across Springfield Park in perfect formation, before snaking down towards the park. I was so excited by this that the two fellas walking by with their pushchair gave me a wide berth and a dodgy look as I squealed in delight and ran down towards the lights (ahem, pot-kettle-black boys!)
Someone was running through the ford (I couldn’t make out who) and everyone was so busy checking out the trail like proper, well-behaved hashers that many didn’t even notice me approach! I was just glad to have found them so soon, was quickly reminded that there was a task at hand and seamlessly joined in the hunt.
Bristols was industriously searching and managed a “hello” whilst not breaking her stride, the Amateur burbled a country “alright” as he raced ahead with his horn and Slim Boy Fat picked up a conversation as if I’d always been there. No flies on Dr Whiplash tho, he had an inkling that something wasn’t quite right… He couldn’t be bothered to find out what tho and sprinted away.
It was wonderful to see everyone in their new birthday celebration hash t-shirts, big thanks to Game Bird for those! And so, we exited Springfield park and headed to where Clodhopper was waiting for us at the next HH with posh glasses and bubbly. A few words from Wrong before raising a toast to 300 hashes although, sadly, no one had given Dr Jeckyll or Sucks It Up prior information of the occasion (nor had they read their t-shirts), they were just astonished with the upmarket refreshments and are probably hoping that Doggy Fashion will decree a similar standard, like Haribo.
A rendition of “Happy birthday to us, happy birthday to us, happy birthday dear hashers, happy birthday to us!” a few cheers and we were sent off to check it out “up thee ‘ill” Sprout was belching his way along and appeared to be impersonating a goldfish tonight as he shouted “hello” every time he passed me (on countless occasions).
Over the Stourbridge Road, cutting up through the Foxholes and onto Hurcott Road, where I can only really remember the boring facts of where we went as I was deep in nursey conversation with Sucks It Up. Continuing through Baxter Gardens and onto the Birmingham Road where there was a lot of shouting for Copulation to cross the road. Down Leswell Lane, where Sucks It Up can recommend a really good builder and gardener, before turning onto Offmore Road and a clever twist as we turned off down towards East Street – a definite Wrong trademark – the trail won’t go where you expect it to go!
Clodhopper now appeared to be the co-hare since being relieved of his barman duties (something I’d obviously missed due to turning up late) and was making sure we weren’t trying to make predictions. Copulation was heard cautioning some of the hashettes about shortcutting but his evidence was sketchy to say the least. Another twist up Cherry Orchard, back onto Offmore Road again and on to the next HH, where our GM happened to be returning from his GM and stopped to join us for sweets.
Doggy Fashion was in raptures over the fizzy rainbows but Wrong and Clodhopper were keen for us to crack on so we “wor late for tay.” “Yowm lookin’ for anything now folks: flour, sawdust, dog sh*t, whatever but it’s one and you’m on!”
And so, Crossdresser walked towards the Land Oak, Dr Whiplash and the Amateur sprinted off that way too but the next check had us fooled again as we were again reminded that Wrong and Clodhopper were in charge of this hash and nothing is ever straightforward.
Down Lyndholm Road, that most of us thought was a dead end, much to Clodhopper’s amusement. Doggy Fashion, Cyclopath and Mud Master were themselves amused by Jack’s cockiness as he had been heard chanting “2,4,6,8, who do we appreciate? Me!” He’s certainly in for a down down later!
Across the Birmingham Road, up Bruce Road, onto Hurcott Road, where the hash had now separated into multiple hashlets and Shag actually caught some asking some unsuspecting local the way to the pub!! Tut tut. Yet another twist, to keep us on our toes, as we veered off down Vine Street, winding into Highfield Road before finally getting back out on the hill down to the on inn.
A thoroughly enjoyable hash but just how did Dr Whiplash and Slim Boy Fat get back so quickly???
Down downs/hash political broadcast: awarded by Crossdresser (as he wanted to shoehorn something political into the proceedings in light of the recent budget, plus Doggy Fashion had only just had her food - see also confusion cited in paragraph 2, Part 1). Crossdresser wanted to be Nick Clegg to DF’s David Cameron and announced his MASSIVE thanks to the Hare & Hounds for their lovely food, even if Golden Shower, Bristols and Say No More had not paid their taxes; the hare: Clodhopper, the George Osborne of the hash, keeping a firm hand on the tiller, guiding us through choppy waters, in fact, he should be the actual chancellor! Crossdresser was misinformed that it was Clodhopper alone and had to make a u-turn at the last minute to include Wrong, the Tony Benn of the hash, lovely, cuddly and warm, and who incidentally, holds the record for laying the most hash trails – bostin’ our mate; Dr Whiplash and Slim Boy Fat for showing all the moral values of Tory backbenchers: “sod you lot, we’re ok, make sure you forge your own expenses” and finally to Bubbles for handing out pennies but about to make millions out of a controversial new development in Kinver. All in it together? Hmmm.
Jack got named Buzz Lightyear for his sheer confidence and his lemniscate-covered neckerchief – to infinity and beyond!!!!
Hot Lips x
P.s. Massive thanks to Cleopatra, my co-blogger x
Next week: The New Inn, Arley, DY12 3LF

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