Island Hashes Reports for 2019
©2019 The Isle of Wight Hash House Harriers www.iwhhh.org.uk
New Year, New Attitude, was the Order of the Day for Snowman's first-class trail from Wroxall Car Park (wrote Coops). Returning to traditional values, as explained by omnipresent ('gilet jaune') Baldric, the Grand Entertainment followed a single trail with appropriate shortcuts and false trails - but No fishukes. Numbers had hit Magic Fifty - perhaps turning out for that New Year's Exercise Resolution - or, perhaps, due to BeerPump's excellent promotional piece in OnTheWight (sporting section). Keeping us all guessing, the trail led up the cyclepath, then down past the donkeys to Appuldurcombe, back up to Sandford, Bobberstone, and home from Fiveways. Après was at the Crab and Lobster (crackin' pint of Timmy Taylors!) where…
Addendum: In honouring the bargain I made with Cooperman (a favourable write up in exchange for some notes on the down downs). I have to admit that despite being there throughout I don’t remember much about it. Quite probably something to do with the aforementioned Timmy Taylor. I did ask the RA to let me have the notes he’d made during the run, unfortunately I can’t read his writing. I do remember that it was all good fun now that Poor Sod has become more accomplished at controlling the mild chaos that attend his sessions. I do remember that the first DDs went to myself and Balders, whom, in view of the fact he did most of the hard work keeping the speedy hashers under control, I prefer to call trail laying partner rather than assistant. The last DD went to the landlord, Dave, who deserves a very hearty round of applause for the repast he and his staff lavished on us. We only just managed to devour it all. Snowman
Outside Village Inn, Bembridge, Trigger. Who would have guessed that there were so many roads, lanes, track and footpaths in and around Bembridge? Setting forth from the Village Inn, Trigger’s brilliantly crafted I-Ped bash used every single one of them. By the time we emerged down in the harbour by the Pilot Boat most of us were beginning to wonder where we were. And, of course, passing a pub is something bashers have the greatest difficulty doing. Much to the hare’s consternation at least half the pack succumbed to the temptation and piled in. The remainder pushed obediently on to the Vine - St Helens, where lunch was taken by some. Later they were joined by the recalcitrants, just in time to wave goodby to BeerPump who was heading off to Chillerton to assist virgin hare Tim Marshall - what a star.
When the bash resumed some were dismayed by Trigger’s declaration that the bash was barely half done. But they mounted up and peddled manfully off towards Nettlestone, diverting on route to take in the view from Seagrove Bay. Some took a sensible short cut here and promptly lost the trail. After some milling about they decided to head back to Bembridge and the Village Inn. The rest of the pack were coerced by either P-Rick or PoorSod into visiting the Wishing Well Distillery to scrounge tasters. After that, it was back to join the short cutters and partake of more lunch. It seems likely that a fair bit of Trigger’s bash trail remained undisturbed by any bashers wheels. Maybe save it for next time?
Down downs went to P-Rick for messing up a repair of Busty’s bike that rendered her brakes useless, she got one for letting him do it. Returnee Dildoh also received one, as did the very commendable hare.
And that was the end of a first-class bash. Nice one Trig. Snowman
On,on to Beer Pump and Tim Martin’s hash the following day.
Chillerton doesn’t lend itself to very varied trails, but they did the best they could with what they had. Which consisted of a climb to the south, a jog along the ridge and descent to, and across, the Chillerton road. Then a climb to the north a jog along the ridge followed by a descent back to the village.
The Gallybaggers (wiktionary has it, among other things, as Scarecrow - IOW only) is a very interesting little drinking establishment that must be a godsend to the people of Chillerton - except Sundays, it’s not normally open. But with persuasion, most likely from Beer Pump, the landlord threw his doors wide for us - which he may well have decided later was a mistake. Unfortunately he only tapped the beer barrel that morning - not a real ale aficionado then? and so this particular IOW ale was even more cloudy then usual - it’s relative drinkability unmentionable. Putting that aside a great time was had by just about everyone. Food was laid on by some very generous hashers. Whilst the entertainment was provided by a wide selection of limelight lovers. P-Rick and Philthy being the most prominent, whilst the RA himself tried to keep some sort of order. Fortunately he wasn’t entirely successful, so the chaos was richly amusing. And that wasn’t the end of it. With the DDs done with it was time for the games. Yes I did say games. The GM had prevailed upon Baldric’s expertise as a one time Scoutmaster to bring along some of his toys. Enthusiastic participants were not in short supply ensuring that the chaos of the DDs was easily surpassed.
Quite what the landlord, his lady and the virgin hare thought of all this wasn’t recorded, but the expressions on their faces said it all. Gallybaggers will never be the same again.
Phenomenal hashy day. Congrats to all involved. Snowman
Merstone Station car park. Mash and Gis. Smallish pack, maybe something to do with the freezing weather keeping Hashers at home in the warm? But plenty of enthusiasm and energy for a trail that headed north up to St George’s Down before circling east towards Fulford and On In from there. Just about five miles of mostly footpaths was the distance reported by those with the clever wrist things. For some reason, cold as it was, Down downs were taken in the car park. In the absence of the official RA contributions came from various stand-ins, including Succers, and Beer Pump. For being the first to set off and the last back, Snowman pick one up. As did Door Knob, Nose Job and, of course the hares.
Rather strange choice of apres, the Hogs Head in the High St. parking was awkward. Food was conspicuously non existence, but overloud football commentary from the numerous, unwatched, TVs scattered around the place wasn’t. Unsurprisingly no one stayed long. Snowman
And all the Usual Suspects - PoorSod, Coops & Limpit, together with retirees FiveBar and Whippie - represented the Island at the annual Yorkshire H3 AGPU in Scarborough. An extremely well-organised event, and the hotel bill was well worth the experience - having a chance of freezing in a roman outfit on a pub-crawl, and then trudging through six inches of snow over some dale to a rural pub. ~Cwps
With the mercury declining to venture very far up the thermometer, it was time for a brisk DoorKnob and Shocker R#n from the chilly heights of the High Park Tavern. The "One-On, no fishukes" trail addressed our location problem (not wanting to repeat the previous month's trail from the Railway) by descending rapidly across the line to Rosemary Lane and getting in a tour of Swanmore and Pell Lane before coming back up through Oakfield. A few shortcut, and claimed embarrassment at an early return to the warm, welcoming pub, but most stuck it out for the more embarrassing 70 minutes on some four miles (which visiting Brylcreem complained was "too long"!). After some delay, Nigel was appointed RA and, highlighting "a number of interesting things", summonsed "animal entanglement" Bart, with "only humans can see colours" Philthy. Fracas was chastised for RA Choice, while the Hares were suffering from 'Dry January' (can't wait for Febrewery!). And finally, for Heckling, Wrong Date, and giving grief to just about everyone - P-Rick. ~Cwps
A pretty bland run around Parkhurst Forest from Philthy, leading off from the main car park off Forest Rd. A good chance for us all to get cold and muddy rounded off with an excellent DD session and goodies in the Kingston Arms.
Reportedly, a Drover trail from the Nunnery Lane car park but spies revealed that BellEnder had been out on the Saturday and "had laid a good sawdust trail". Neither of the above were with the Pack, as we incorrectly circuited the Castle and stood around Carisbrooke ford wondering what to do next. Gis reckoned he'd met a bloke in a pub who'd overheard someone say that the trail was going past Froglands Farm, so off there we went, by various routes and, in time, most had completed the second part of the route. The Quick got one of the few car parking spaces in the Waverley, where Sod's Law ruled again, only interrupted by the excellent snacks. ~Cwps
And JimJams led off from the Godshill Public Car Park with our après grub kindly furnished by Anni and Carl.
Every Now and Then, BeerPump has a Good Idea - and This was One of Them! Detailed Hand-on Research had shown that there were a significant number of Wetherspoons establishments scattered around Portsmouth Harbour - all easily accessible by bicycle. Thus, at 11am (and earlier for breakfast), we assembled at the Isambard Kingdom Brunel, in Guildhall Square on the start of our Grand Spooning Tour. Pretty - it wasn't! Flattish - it was! Our first leg led us alongside the A3, past the ferry port, the scrapyard and the council estate, to the delightful suburb of Cosham and the First Post. One good thing about Spoons is that they do occasionally have some decent beers, but not always a wide choice of Anything But DoomBar - and this was also the case in the Alec Rose in the gaudy Port Solent marina. And from there, you just had to put your head down, cycle, ignore the scenery of Porchester, to go for a Quicky in the Fareham Crown Inn, and then off down the bus highway to our 'final' stop at the Gosport Star. At this point, Turn-upTony advised that superior ales could be had in the Fallen Acorn brewery bar, where our highly-successful day ended with a few DDs and many tastings… ~Cwps
A rather clever Shergar trail, this - meeting at the National Trust Mottistone Manor Car Park - and with a classical combined trail for all abilities (providing you could climb up a hill!). Up and west went the long trail, keeping just out of range of the adjacent gun club, while those seeking a shorter route found their way to the meeting-of-paths at the Longstone. Again the trail split and we were together again going through Grammar's Common. Descending towards Brighstone, the short-traillers were so used to keeping up that we all got led south towards the coast - leading to a somewhat spread-out return back to our transports. A short trip to the Three Bishops, where we were made most welcome in the side bar. ~Cwps
The Kingston Arms, described by Geri as "the dead centre of Cowes" (due to the proximity of the extensive graveyard, which formed a significant part of the OnOut) is not a venue where you would expect the need for studs. Birthday-boy P-Rick (later chastised for "trying to run the show!") was heard moaning about keeping winter trails on-road - as we turned into some particularly muddy woods, where Hare, BeerPump, got confused, leading to a major retracing of steps, and claiming that "it can't be winter cos it's 18 degrees!". Further mud around Ninham, where DilDoh! was observed hand-cranking her torch, got us to Northwood and back by one of the only two footpaths in town. FF stood in as RA and recounted that story about 'pulled muscle' Vegas telling Philth "If I die, you will have no other woman!" - but at least she took part in the trail - unlike NumpT who chose to have her nails done instead ("The Beauty Consultants will Inherit the Earth!"). And finally, to celebrate that we can all leave domestic cares for sporting pursuits, Sweater was accused that "you said you'd get that bathroom finished three years ago!" ~Cwps
It's been some time since we had an intricate trail around Freshwater - today led by Fagin and BullsEye. Not since the days of a running HardOn had we delved so much into the detail of the extensive urban footpath network. Emerging at Farringford, a short climb up the edge of Tennyson Down led us on a glorious descent with views across the Bay and along the coast. Many gave up at this point, cutting home behind the golf course, while the fitter (and unwary) were led, nearly up to Chessell. We settled into the Vine Inn, where PoorSod (always one to take a short-cut on a Fagin trail) welcomed back returning foreign tourists, Neva, Lips, SlyC and Maggot, and gave the first DD to P-Rick - basically to shut him up talking about his cycle-ride there rather than r#nning. Fracas condemned the "Extra Three Miles", where JimJams (who'd initially gone to the wrong Venue) was nicking golfballs, and DoorKnob had resorted to asking civilians. Sod droned on to expand the sins of BeerPump, who recovered his hat lost in Portsmouth but "defecated the trail" and was also "nasty to small dogs". And, to conclude, Lips (ever the non-PC) told a dubious joke… ~Cwps
And a dubious trail from BeerPump, leading off from The Kingston Arms - not ten days since he laid a trail there for the other hash… "Have your money ready for the floating bridge!" he taunted, which got the main pack wheeling off down the hill, only to turn and re-ascend past the cemetery and muddy woods towards Chawton Church, where they finally met up with a wandering NoseJob, and a drink-bearing Oates. Great Pub this - not only for the wonderful snacks served - but also for the tolerance of the Hash, with RA, PoorSod, and assistants providing adequate entertainment for a seemingly unending list of Sins!
Tue 5th Mar-19
Your usual team of Coops, Limpit and MrMagoo had been cajoled into running yet another Pancake Run (recorded as ValhallaXXX), but were nervously watching the forecasts as Storm Someone-or-other raced towards us - but veered northwards just at the last moment. Your 'catering' costumes were superb, though the real pancakes brought by Suction and NumpT didn't stay the course, and Philthy looked a bit too much like Robin Hood! After tossing our way up to the Castle, we were entertained by Ripper's team's Pancake Supper - and were very fortunate to have procured the services of old, experienced ex-RA, Mr J M McGee. A Grand Evening for All!
- This was another of our occasional 'Valhalla' R#ns - we're up to Thirty now - not a Sunday Run and not a Moon Run - but worth recording and giving a Number. Anyone can put on an impromptu Hashing Event - it should preferably involve a trail and some dining - just see Coops or a GM.
Sat 9th Mar-19
Trigger laid and led the Bash from Ryde St Johns. "Not too steep" he claimed, but failed to mention the sucking mud that would dismount many before we'd crossed some neighbouring grass. Over Ashey Road, and down Corbett Road to Play Lane, doing a circuit of those meadows where cyclists were not unwelcome. A hint of The White Hart got some an early (wait for the 12:00 opening...) pint, while the rest got in a circuit of Firestone. Great Stuff this! The return saw the Steam Railway, and the track back to Wootton, then following NCN22 back to Ryde, for a debrief in the welcoming Railway Inn. As is becoming the practice, the Hare was Lead RA - but with plenty of assistants to help remember the multitude of trail sins - we were the Most Interesting Thing to happen in the Pub that week! Poubelle was a faller, Limpit had offered to "hold it" while Snowy was off to the Loo, and Busty caused initial concern by announcing that P-Rick was "up St Mary's" - but not the hospital - Spurs were playing Saints!
It was Busty who explained to the circled Pack at Bembridge Windmill that the much-recovered 'No-Prisoners' P-Rick had gone off earlier on a trail "with no shortcuts". That did not dismay the resilient short-trail followers who tailed the main pack along the old sea wall until realising that the destination was Brading somewhere, and turned back by various routes. Meanwhile, the Rambo's, recording distances of between five and seven-point-five miles, continued, via the St Helens railway line. and around the harbour, home - a feat which your last Scribe could not remember since it was performed, to much complaint, by a young PoorSod, some twenty-odd years ago! Moving On to the Village Inn, where their generous welcome awaited, a fair number of us gathered in the rear shelter to hear the RA summarise quite a lot of Sins, and to introduce his Guest RAs, including a very rare appearance from retiree, MrMagoo, complete with New Joke, and laughter and merriment all round!
And Emperor PoorSod gets murdered in Rome. Weeny Weedy Weaky! Over ten years since the IWH3 attended a RH3 Ides of March weekend - and credit to Sodders, who dug out the remains of the Rome Hash to re-create the Event:
BeerPump was Hare - so it was "Google! What's the Italian for flour?" - the result of this being was that the hostel chef presented him with a nice bunch of roses! And PropShaft reported on: "The Italian Jog" - with twenty IW Hashers joining the "Ides of March" Hash, hosted by the Rome Hash House Harriers and involving Hashers from as far away as Taiwan. Friday turned out to be the usual social run involving a number of bars, lots of drunk/lost Hashers and finishing at the Miscellania Cafe Bar for a splendid feast.
Saturday, a free morning, meant time to explore the Eternal City, which is truly stunning; Rome casually hides architecture other cities would be proud to own. The afternoon brought a train ride to Ostia for a six-mile Hash in the forest, where most of the pack missed the beer-stop and unfortunately ran through an area occupied by a Lady of Negotiable Affection about to start work. We were treated to a marvellous scene of two Italians (the Lady and a local Hasher) screaming at each other whilst being blissfully unaware of what they were shouting. A mention must go here to Flossing, who tripped over a tree root in the middle of the forest and broke her wrist; despite being in lots of pain, she gritted her teeth and carried on until we reached help in the form of an American Hasher who is a doctor in real life, and the ever-reliable Oates, who, as if by magic, produced a first-aid kit and beer.
Dawn's rosy fingers (too Greek?) on Sunday morning saw rather a lot of jaded people. Wrapped in togas and glum looks, we travelled the metro to Circus Maximus for the main run in central Rome. Cameras all around snapped the sight of 50 hungover senators running through the circus. A hill-climb sweated out some of the drink; spirits were further raised by the viewpoint at the Aranci Park, and so a cured group jogged down to Tiber Island, stopping only to test the depth of a Byzantine trough using a dipstick (the Oxford H3 one). Then it was on through some roman passages (beautiful buildings everywhere) to Galleria Varsi, where by tradition the Island hashers performed the Death of Caesar, (sorry Bill); you can catch it on the Wight Hash Facebook page. A drink stop at the base of the hilltop basilica, more photos, before running up Ara Coelli steps (all 124 of them) and then down again (wrong steps) and up the adjacent steps to the Campidoglio, designed by Michelangelo. The final mile saw yet more ruins and beautiful buildings, the impressive Coliseum and 100 metres of hop-scotch on the Via del Verbiti, eventually finishing back at the Circus, where our lost fluids were replaced with more litres of italian beer, and a splendid feast conjured up by Oates. A fantastic time was had by all. Accesso Accesso!
This was St Patrick's Day, some wore the green, but only Coops had the Paddy Hat, so was made RA to replace the one away in Rome. We were, unusually, in the Asda car park from where FannyMac and Gottlageer had prepared a trail up Standen Valley and back via the cycleway. They explained a curious array of spots - using spray-chalk (that Sodders had found lasted for months) - which the lean running team failed to hear and either found themselves behind the slower Hashers, or running in the wrong direction! At the Castle, sins were awarded to Limpit, for always slowing after running out of the car park; Curly was the token cloth-eared runner; while LimboDancer dobbed Drover for "educating on the Hash"; and finally, the Hares, with FMac arraigned for failing to pre-arrange the drinks-stop with the all-seeing Allotment Committee!
And Sweater's first trail from The Woodman Arms. Report please?
This was Gisbo and Mash's trail from the new venue of Rookley Village Hall.
Yr Scribe was on hols, so if anyone has some recollections, he'd be grateful.
DoorKnob and Shocker decided to lead off from Smallbrook Stadium, giving access to the Ashey Road area of footpaths, somewhat south of their normal haunt of the High Park Tavern, which still made a very suitable Après.
Scribe still away, so any thoughts to add here will be very welcome...
A rare start from Wootton Station Car Park for the Curly and Tina team, leading us down bits of cyclepath and track to the less interesting bits around Woodside Bay, where some claimed to have run on a small length of New Footpath. Après was at the Vectis Rugby Club where we watched the end of the very-well organised youth training, entertained them as PoorSod brought out his downdown variety kit - and then got entertained as the youth ruggers tried to emulate us! (imbibing appropriate refreshments of course…)
Missing out the grotty bit along the industrial estate, the Bash started at the beginning of the Cycle Path car park off Manners View, Newport. Mash and Gis were leading, and a relatively short trail got us back to the Prince of Wales.
It was Geri's job to entertain from The Castle, in Sandown, with a trail that meandered along the clifftop - something we had not done for a number of years. As for the quality of the trail, that was summarised by a non-combatant Bendover who, out for a coastal walk, observed many Hashers running in many directions between Lake and Shanklin. Running out of cliff, the trail turned inland to give a few extra miles around Morrisons. And, as for the Hare, RA Sodders, commended the trail but remarked that we were a week too early for the famed Easter Beer Festival!
There are guaranteed choice of footpaths from Wroxall Car Park - but also guaranteed hills - which we found on the rather devious, winding route of Shergar's five-mile sawdust trail, leading off as surprised locals arrived from work to find all their parking places taken by our full pack. Up to Cook's Castle, but then immediately back down to the boggy bit before returning to fiveways for the ascent to the top. Some late returnees reported views of Ventnor, though others (may they be 60min purists?) made it back past the apres stop of The Star in 1hr 10min. Tired, and fortified with ale and some excellent sandwiches, we heard RA for the night, Geri, talk about all the sins she wasn't going to penalise, but felt that the two-hundred runs up for P-Rick was well worth a mention; as well as calling a show of hands, leading to a Name for Stigmata, celebrated with a most irreligious song!
Easter Sunday, and local girl, Magnum, was trail-layer for our Run from at Godshill Car Park. Après was at Wormy's.
It was all Snowman's fault - complaining that the Scots, Welsh and Irish had Grand Celebrations for their National Days, but the English tended to be very much more reserved about the Feast of St Georges Day. He got the task of organising our spring Barn Dance and Supper - ably assisted by chefs LunchBox and BeerPump. Most joined in with a festival of red and white colour - the feeling being that Nationalism was something to be proud of, though most of our dancing wasn't!
Back to Allotment Road in Niton where nearly forty of us assembled for a spring Bart outing on, and below the cliffs - with guests JustJohn (brought by JimJams) and Scrumpy (Hardy's H3, brought by Alex). Having laid his five-miler, the Hare chose to accompany the short-cutters, most of whom followed the Pack down the Cripple Path to the Undercliff Drive, now accessible for pedestrians. While the Long dropped down to Old Park and the sea, others made it to the old St Lawrence Station and up St Rhadegund's Path, with a further option up to Berryl and Ashknowle Lane. The Buddle offered us their function room where PoorSod thanked "All My Own Work" Bart, declined to name Alex, thanked the Stars of the Barn Dance, and welcomed our Visitors. BeerPump noted that Alex and a strangely on-trail NozeJob were stars of the fishukes; while Coops pointed out that Curly had the "schoolboy attitude" of avoiding all the Hard Bits. And as Sodders droned on, leaving some thinking that DownDowns should be short, like a trip to the Dentist, he gave one to MoorWhine for returning, and to DoorKnob for complaining about the length of the DDs.
Not so much a trail from Havenstreet Railway, under the direction of Fracas, but more of an excuse to get back for the Spring Beer Festival.
Maybe the cycleride along the Southdowns Way caught out a few unprepared Bashers for whom the hundred miles were seriously not flat and certainly not smooth.
Day 1: assemble by Winchester Station whither Pump had magically transported most of the bikes. Down the High Street to the Mill and a sign temptingly pointed to Eastbourne, 101 miles away… Then it was up. And when we bumped our way down again, it was up again. And when we were only halfway up….. Exton and Old Winchester Hill took us to a delightful speed down that grassy slope off the A3 at Butser, and the lunch stop. Some retired, but the great majority pushed on, Didling and Cocking our way over the ridges above Petworth and Midhurst, By this time there were bodies everywhere - Snowman doing sterling work with the recovery van. For those who persisted there was somewhat of a problem with "just turn right to Fontwell", as West Sussex County Council are not well known for putting destinations on their fingerposts, and arriving was a mixture of intuition: "the sea's over there", asking locals: "excuse me, I'm lost", and of satnavs. The beds in the rather worn Travelodge welcomed, but not as much as The Old Stables Inn!
Day 2: and reality seeps in, with a large contingent seeking the coastal route (NCN2) through Worthing (Ok we're getting from Winchester to Eastbourne, but not necessarily all along the South Downs Way…). The keenees, led by Dippy, bashed for two hours back up to the point where they'd left the SDW, only to follow the trail down again to cross the Arun at Amberley, where they met the middle bashers, who'd taken the road. Then, it was deja vu all again, rough up, rough down and repeat until legs fall off. We'd have gone a bit quicker but it seems that, the larger the group, the more chance of an equipment, or body, breakdown. Lunch at Upper Beeding, then a short diversion as we investigated the Devil's Dyke Inn, then an icecream at Ditchling Beacon. The Front Bashers got all the way to Southease YHA Hostel, while the pack sought dinner in the Gardeners Arms in Lewes, some attempting the cycle back in the dark…
Day 3: and it was a choice of over-the-top into Eastbourne, or a tarmac route south and over Beachy Head. The purists were rewarded with some of the hardest hills of the route, a delightful ride through Alfriston and the tea garden at Jevington, before the final ascent and on-down, through the golf club, to the London and County (Spoons) by the station.
Afterwards, someone remarked that a clue to the trail difficulty might have been that most of the points we visited along the way ended in -Hill, or -Down or, even worse, -Beacon!
With our respectable regiment of Bashers stuck up some South Downs Beacon, and still more Walking the Wight, Suction and Oates decided to entertain the rest of the Hash "At Home".
Now becoming a bit of an annual event, Coops, with Limpit, entertained the Full Moon H#sh from the Yarbridge Inn.
A lovely little Run from map-aware Hares Fagin and BullsEye led off from the Sun Inn at Calbourne - taking us up towards Brighstone Forest - according to our abilities...
Bicester - where Ricky met Sally - The weather was good to us especially as lots of scantily clad hashers ran, walked and wriggled their way around the various trails and parties. The theme was sexy nightwear with some playing with the words presented us with knights (sexy knightwear), two Rod Stewarts (do you think we’re sexy?) and a human penis, which unfortunately suffered from droop and had to be regularly reflated (Dippy…who else?). Reality came with the trails: 12, 8 and 4 miles and a sensible Sunday hangover three-miler. A well organised and fun weekend with an excellent band on Saturday knight enjoyed by all. Sodders
Those of you who didn't attend missed a treat laid on by the good people of Chillerton, and used to excellent advantage by your esteemed GM, BeerPump. The village, and its environs, were infested with scarecrows. From spacemen and women to pixies, from Neptune to veg-stealing rabbits, from green men to campers frying eggs. And there were dozens more, all very innovative, all very different. Their creators, no doubt, eyeing the top prize. Which might just have been a round of applause for all I know… Hashers had their own prize to aim for. To achieve it they were grouped into teams of four, given maps of the area and a list of questions, such as; How many birds on the green man, what does the bicycle repair man drink? Where do the astronauts need a lift to? etc to answer. The maps offered information as to where the answers might be found, but not precise information. So the teams had to get to the locations and scan the clues to see if one of the scarecrows there offered an answer. Gatcombe had to be visited, as did Rookley, so it was no easy ramble around the town. Cheating was rife, more than one Hasher mounted their bike and bashed around the clues. There was a rumour that some even took their cars. Outrageous. Whether or not this was taken into account at the prize giving - bottles of wine - was unknown to Winalot, Salvi, Bilbo and myself because we took the trouble to do the whole route, examine every possible scarecrow (excepting Rookley). The trouble was it took us all of two hours, so by the time we reached the Galleybaggers Bar, gagging for a beer, proffering our answer sheet for marking, it was all over. We did achieve a score of 13 correct out of 15, but were timed-out by the adjudicator. I didn't recall any mention of time limits at the start. Outrageous!! An excellent day brilliantly organised by Beer Pump. Well done that man. Snowman
Brading Down / Wheatsheaf - Noze
Not so much a Hash, more an excuse to go on a Gin Tour apres! That was PoorSod, leading off from his local Drinking Den, the Wishing Well, Pondwell.
Tour de Portsmouth 2
Harry's Bar - Lippy
Culver Down - Bilbo
21 - 23 Jun-19
The Wessex 40th celebratory weekend - IOW attendees SillyCow, Lippy, PoorSod, Cooperman, Limpit, BeerPump, Snowman.
Held at the Giants Head Camp Site high in the hills of Dorset, some 6-7 miles north of Dorchester, it was different, it has to be said. Whilst there was beer aplenty food was less prevalent. A charming lady with a tiny horse box converted into a mobile kitchen, somehow managed to supply 70 hungry hashers with fish,chip and mushy peas. That was on Friday evening. Saturday evening she once again succeeded in feeding that same 70 hashers with jacket spuds, all coming with a wide choice of fillings, including chicken curry and chilli.
In between times the Wessex hash laid on a never ending supply of tea, coffee, crisps,biscuits and cakes. No problem there. It was breakfast that was a little lacking - in fact it was non-existent. Still Dorchester’s Wetherspoons was just a fifteen minute drive away, so no-one starved.
Friday’s run was interesting (I think), enlivened by spectacular scenery, very steep hills and the absence of the IOW contingent. Instead, a tricky descent into the valley in which sat the picturesque town of Cerne Abbas was undertaken by most of them. The local hostelry was treated to an appreciative once over before the tricky, heart rending, ascent was attempted. The evening was marked a distinct lack of warmth. Not, I must add, from the hosts who, under their macabrely named GM Death March, were the very pinnacle of hospitality . No, the lack of warmth came courtesy of mother nature - well, it was only the longest day of the year. It has to be said that if the marquee had had sides it might have helped to retain some of the heat given off by the braziers provided. Even though there was music and dancing to help with the cold it was an early bed that beckoned.
Saturday dawned searingly bright and very warm, then very hot (well, it was the almost longest day of the year). Back from Weatherspoons we discovered it was orienteering time. Teams were given a map, a set of map reference points and a sheet of paper on which to write answers, and that was it. The entire IOW made up one team. Unfortunate two members of that team had maps, which, as you might suspect, was regrettable. But, despite considerable confusion and disagreement we managed the entire course and answered all the questions. Such as; ‘how many lateral bars are there on the gate you found at this reference point?’ That was easy once someone had looked up what lateral meant. Less easy was the one which required the determining of a compass bearing. Out came the phones, none of which agreed. Use your watch someone suggested - “you point the hour hand at the sun and the position 12 is the compass direction - roughly… or is it the other way round?” Someone eventually pointed out that the map provided had compass bearings marked on it. Other clues had us looking around the reference point for some object,sign on a gate, how many windows in the roof of that house in the distance, enc..
En route Snowman found a working walkie talkie lying on the ground. Not having the voice to use such instruments, or, it seems, the required licence (didn’t know you needed one?) Beer Pump took charge and, after some discussion with the bloke at the other end it was decided that the device would be placed at the back of a road sign for collection by the numpty who lost it. But it didn’t end there. A following group of hash orienteers found it before said numpty could turn up and started the process all over again. The bloke at the other end must have wondered if the local lunatic asylum was having an away day out.
The second ‘finding’ of the walkie talkie was not revealed until the evening down downs when the hashett who ‘found’ Beer Pump’s hiding place behind the sign, gave one of her group a DD for something he did with the long suffering instrument. She, who was, until that moment, entirely unaware of our previous finding of the device, then got a DD herself from Beer Pump for interfering with his earlier arrangements. The question is; did the thing ever get back to its owner?
Anyway, having finished the course and even managing to discover the middle name of the proprietor of the camp site, which was the tie break question, we learnt that we should have punched the question sheet with the marker provided at each point to prove that we’d been there. Come the prize giving we didn’t even get a mention. outrageous!
The theme for the weekend was the forties - it being Wessex’s 40th year of hashing - and the fancy dress parade reflect that. Some really excellent outfits were on show. The ladies seemed very much into the fashion of the period, including our very own Silly Cow, who, with Lippy turn out too late to be judged, but were nevertheless very nineteen forties. After that it was the skits, which culminated in a couple of guitar players supporting a couple of singers who worked their way through a selection of favourites with hash flavoured lyrics. Then it was sing along time to all the old war time classics; Goodbye Dolly Grey, the White Cliffs of Dover, Bless ‘em all, we’ll meet again, and so on. Brilliant, we all retired to bed with lumps in our throats. Well, we oldens did, having given up trying to get lumps anywhere else.
The next day after Wetherspoons it was off home after a quick tour around the nearby hill top. The main hangover run descended into Cerne Abbas for lunch.
An excellent and very different weekend. Great stuff Wessex. ~Snowman
With New Arrivals ArseoverTit and DoggieBag now permanently camped on our Island, it was time for their Virgin IWHHH Trail, which they laid from the Sportsman's Rest at Porchfield. Not an easy choice of route from here, but a very good trail was reported - possibly so because the pack paused at the Hares' temporary abode in Thorness to celebrate their tenth Wedding Anniversary run with suitable refreshments… ~Cwps
An inventive little hot Run from Bilbo Baggins led us off from Merstone Station, with the long trail leading over to East Lane, with the shorter option tagging along as most failed to find their designated route. Past Merstone Manor, and through a wheatfield, the route led up the downs, on a path that had somehow been forgotten by the Council maintenance team… Once on St George's, we came down again - following the cyclepath back. Barbecues were ready and those that had pre-planned, burnt meat and other food, while others patronised the icecream van - some did both. The rural nature of the picnic spot gave the RA ample opportunity to bring out all his drinking devices to entertain. ~Cwps
The A-to-B 1800 Hash, laid by Propshaft, was slightly dampened down by a steady drizzle, which Parkhurst Forest's slowly drying out shiggy patches found most welcome. But Hashers did not. Despite this drawback the trail, starting in Newport's Orchard St car park, was very nicely planned and of near perfect length to come to a timely completion at Northwood Community Hall.
Meanwhile the walkers stayed more or less on firm ground by taking the Newport - Cowes walk/cycle pathway. A sharp left turn three quarters of the way along brought them very neatly to the hall at almost the same time as the muddied runners. Here Oates and Pitstop had already set up the bar and were busy preparing enticing cocktails, whilst a side table was staring to look crowded with pizzas and nibbles. All very welcome and Hashers being Hashers invitations to tuck-in were superfluous.
Several cocktails and numerous slices of pizza later it was time for the cabaret. Mother and Daughter belly dancers (arranged, I believe, by NoseJob. Who managed to rip an Achilles during the hash ) took to the floor and entertained in fine style for about 30 minutes. A collection for their charity was promptly arranged and generously contributed to. Down downs, conducted with difficult-to-get-down tinned beer, took their normal course, and the afternoon wound up with everyone being well lubricated. Not the least of whom was myself (which accounts to the appalling lack of detail in this report). At one stage I repaired across the road to the pub to buy a pint or two of Timmy Taylor to take back - can't remember exactly why. Some of the resident wags at the bar decided I was fair game for some ribbing and suggested I'd better be careful crossing the busy road whilst trying to juggle pints of beer. In response I demanded a young lady be brought to assist me across. Astonishingly one was brought and duly saw me safely to the other side of the road. See, age does have its privileges. An excellent afternoon's entertainment. Congrats to all involved in the organisation! ~Snowman
It was Winalot's turn to entertain the Bash and chose the Sandown Railway Station - a pretty safe bet - as long as you don't go up the Down! Good Fun, ending in a few beers at the Castle Inn.
It was a warm day, though less sunny than of recent, when the Hash gathered, for their first Run of their nineteenth century, in the St Johns Railway Car Park for the Bastille Day Run. Current RA incumbent, PoorSod, had asked the former RA to officiate - this ex-RA having also been drafted in as Hare, AND to cover the absence of a Scribe... There was an unavoidable Tarmac element but, refreshingly, plenty of jinks to distract the Pack from the hills and hardness underfoot, as well as unusual but welcome spells in the fields and among the trees. A contented pack assembled afterwards in the Garden of the Railway Inn for a sumptuous feast, prepared by the Landlord - and where Mia took one for the Pub. In the garden, the Hashettes appeared to be fascinated by the magnificent courgettes on display, as well as more easily recognising the gherkins, whose size seemed more familiar. On the Run, Alex distinguished himself by following the trail religiously (the text for today, in Church, had been The Good Samaritan - reported the Ex R.A.). Alex was closely followed by valiant JimJams who, alas, had collected four faults for showering in a dog trough and a further four for missing the final Fishuke. Winalot (best moustache) had brought some lost property which was promptly identified and claimed by PropShaft, who provided her own down-down. Limousine was rewarded as a representative of our French friends on this auspicious day. PoorSod's anatomy error (identifying Patella as Placenta) was enough to see him summoned, along with BeerPump and Fracas, who had both done Fishukes, despite not being among the first three to reach them. To finish off, one of our new recruits from Milton Keynes was called up to join Poubelle (showing 'True Grit') and the Hare, who was thanked for his trail.
Back to Whitehouse Corner for yet another Philthy Parkhurst Forest R#n - but, admittedly, once you are in this bit of the forest, the opportunities are endless - to be enjoyed by MiltonKeynsians MeJulie and Drip, brought by DB; and by Vegas' guests Incest and Lolita. A-weavin', a-bobbin', a-duckin', and a-divin', we got round the excellent trail sub-60 - apart from those who chose the Hare's over-enthusiastic loop to the beach! At the Blacksmiths, late-arriving Fracas was RA, highlighting our visitors, birthday boy, Streaker, injured Noze, and 'Tarzan' DoorKnob. A fast DD song was badly-matched to a slowing Bilbo, as a popular vote denied the GD the pleasure of removing Fracas' Vindaloo for 'lateness'! ~Cwps
We met at the Woodmans Arms for the drivers to leave their vehicles and went on-off on a short but delightful P-Rick and Busty trail
A fresh view on Haring from the Jubilee Car Park, above Brighstone, came from BitLarge who did well entertaining us and overestimating the r#nning skills of our ageing Pack. Enjoyed by all - except ShortHorn who complained "that's My Running Area!"
Well done to Gisbo for organising a Grand Day Out from Gurnard Front! Après was The Beach, with optional swimming and BBQ
Trafalgar Day from HMS Victory, an extra R#n as part of our 1800th Celebrations, and Snowman reports:-
A small group of IOW hashers braved the choppy waters of the Solent to take part in a celebration to mark the occasion of our 1805 run. 21st October 1805 was the date of the Battle of Trafalgar. So what better place to start the celebration than from Nelson's magnificent flagship HMS Victory, which to this day remains the flagship of the First Sea Lord, and is the oldest ship in the world still in commission. Overseen by the Portsmouth Hash, the celebratory Hash was to be a run short on distance long on pubs. It didn't quite seem to work out that way. But breakaway rebels redressed the balance, much to the hare's disgruntlement. In the end there's no doubt that everyone enjoyed a good day.
Bearing in mind that schools no longer teach history (Don't believe me? Watch quiz programmes like Pointless or Chaser you'll see what I mean) I have circulated a few facts about the battle of Trafalgar. ~Snowman
And this was the now Annual Visit of Rambo and Friends, with their trail from Borthwood Copse, and afterwards at The Castle in Sandown.
P-Rick and Busty led off from the now-famous GNSR starting point of Egypt Point.
The EuroHash 19 Cruise - watch this space!
Despite many threats to call off this Bash, due to impending Storm Snowman, it sadly took place...
We parked at Quarr Abbey for a delightful (and permissive) trail around the local woods and fields, from old-retainer MoorWhine - who'd also got us into the Royal Vic Yacht Club for Après.
NashHash 19 in Kelso, Scottish Borders.
Fort Victoria, Yarmouth was the venue for another of PussyGalore's West Wight outings, with a return to the Sun Inn at Calbourne - You don't have to be a fast sprinter to be a Good Hare!
PoorSod's (Not The Musical Hash!) Hash and Pimms Party on Springvale Beach, opposite (for convenience) The Boathouse.
The Bus Stop in Blythe Way, at the top of Carter Ave, Shanklin is actually quite a good starting point for a Hash. Our usual Hares were a very fit Berg, accompanied by MaBaker. Cyclepath toward Wroxall, then some route choice for All, keeping us remarkably together as trails met, on their way to the Après in the Hares' garden
Bart again, from his usual venue of Harry's Bar, Shanklin. Up Luccombe Road (again) and, by various means, onto Cowleaze Hill. We were already running a bit late but those still up for it were hurried over into the copse where most got lost in the increasing gloom. There was a trail there somewhere...
Sweater chose a West Wight venue for his inaugural Hare experience, setting off from one of the few remaining pubs, The Vine at Freshwater.
The Great North South R#n! Our biggest yet, with two double-deckers supporting us as we left Egypt Point (P-Rick deciding that the buses should be divided between boys and girls!). Quite dry underfoot, and with good trail markings, a Grand Day Out was had by All - (now that we've All got used to stopping at each of the four pubs!)
And Thanks to the quick service provided by our understanding Pubs - The Blacksmiths, The Chequers, The White Horse and, apres, The Buddle.
Possibly, our first R#n from the Eight Bells at Carisbrooke - the idea coming from Streaker on his first trail, and it turned out good. No problems with the Runes, as a good trail led up past the Castle and over the top of Mount Joy. A welcome awaited in the upstairs room of the pub where our RA was superseded by visiting RAs EasyAccess and Megasoreass, providing much entertainment - plenty of material for them, including the large contingent who'd opted out early to make the Rugby at the Waverley!
Always enjoy a good Trigger Bash! A different loop, leading from Merrie Garden, at the later time of 4:30pm, took us out to Lower Hyde and on towards Wroxall before we met our first rough ground behind the Donkeys. Avoiding the Griffin, the Godshill loop got us round again to Macket's Lane and in for a quicky (or two) at the Pointer. Here, the rain started and the Hare's Master Plan for a moonlight descent from Culver was abandoned (for a warmer time of year) and a dripping pack took the easy way home, wetting the carpet of the Golf Club, before the stragglers made the Castle.
And a contour-defying outing under the direction of hosts and Hares, Balders and Slackers, from their bijou residence in Whitwell, leading us past the historic 'White Well' and onwards upwards to reach the track on the ridge overlooking Wroxall. A traditional Hash trail that had all the elements of a basic short loop with three longer loops for what was quite a respectable collection of 'runners' under guidance of assistant Hare Bergerac. Après, we were entertained with refreshments and 'chip butties', before PoorSod (and others) identified significant events for our entertainment - indoors due to rain, our hostess forbidding any extreme ceremonies that might damage the floor...
The Great St Helens Duver Hash, Bash, and Splash - It's great when a plan comes together and Sunday's 'Hash, Bash, and Splash' certainly did that, wrote Snowman. Hashers and Bashers left together at precisely 11.10 from the old church tower on Nodes Point. Bashers, under the wing of Trigger, headed for a pleasant ride around the back streets and lanes of Bembridge. Hashers, with Fracas in charge, set off in roughly the same direction on the footpaths behind the Embankment. The 'Plan' was for both contingents to meet up by a small lane somewhere close to the centre of Embankment Road and - believe it or not - it actually worked! NoseJob and BeerPump abandoned their bikes (later to be rescued by Hashers not risking the swim) and joined the Hash. Bashers, and some Hashers now headed for home whilst the swimmers headed for the Tollgate Cafe to prepare for the swim. It was lucky that the tide and the sun were out (maybe all part of the grand plan?) because the short swim back across the harbour entrance to Nodes Point was accomplished with minimum fuss. As BeerPump would say 'No one died'. Après time, clustered around BeerPump's tent, meant beer, sandwiches, burgers, downdowns and conviviality. In all, a Grand Day Out, brilliantly thought out and organised - congrats to all concerned - particularly BeerPump, with Après help from PropShaft. Thanks!
The Grand Crank was reluctant to give a Bash Number to this trail for Beer & Buses Candidates cos, initially, no-one turned up at 11am outside Lower Hyde Caravan Site. Eventually some rolled up late and a trail, not necessarily that laid, was followed, in pouring rain, to the nearest alehouse.
Even less enthusiasm for Bart's trail-laying attempt to entertain those who only wanted to get from their refreshments in their caravans at Lower Hyde to their dinner in Shanklin Old Village.
Even less on this Bash, but it had to exist 'cos it made the 50th Bash fall in June!!!
'Twas the Sunday of Beer & Buses and in recognition that there was no Old Bus service from Shanklin to Ventnor (they can't get up the hills you know), the IWHHH Sunday Run, with a large contingent of visitors, decided to run it. The Fast, and The Brave, took BeerPump's trail which led out on the cyclepath, then up to the top of the Down, and down again for a refreshment stop at The Landslip. The Chimney Steps led onto the Coastal Path and a long slog past Bonchurch to the Winter Gardens. A significant number of 'slow runners' were led by Coops through Batts Copse, past Harry's (shut) and via Luccombe to try some of the other Ventnor pubs first. The absence of our RA, PoorSod (the Isle of Wight's answer to Nicholas Parsons), didn't matter, as there were an abundance of visiting RAs (Mega, Testy etc), introduced by Pump, and getting through a remarkable volume of beer in some entertaining sessions.
A clever DilDoh! Trail, from the Dudley Road Car Park in Ventnor, contained surprisingly fewer contours than most expected. Past the Volly went the 20 odd runners, and at some considerable speed around the town centre, soon leaving those of a lesser velocity to search out the trail. A short visit to the Esplanade was soon followed by the challenge of Bath Road, where the trail looped back on itself to enable the distance to be completed around Bonchurch. Streaker was Moon RA, and was full of Hare Praise - apart from a few "failures to focus...". These included P-Rick conveniently getting lost outside the Spyglass; arguing about the proper pronunciation of "Uranus"; and also Bart mentioning the "B-Word"! And a Hash Welcome to newbee, Adrian, who'd just found that you don't have to compete to have fun running….
Poubelle's 60th at Wootton Community Centre.
A slightly wounded Shergar from Totland Pier. The apparently recent quick trail-laying led to a) any flour/chalk/dust On, and b) no ShortCuts so follow the Trail until you get bored… It was the Coastal Path up to Headon Warren, where most of our More Adventurous were keeping-up, then down to Alum Bay, up again on Highdown, then almost into Freshwater before turning back. Reportedly, a lovely sunny trail with views over the heather - and the needles on the gorse. The OnInn was a bit thin as most took a shortcut and/or got lost. Après, in The Vine, we welcomed back PoorSod from Sardinia: Thanks to the Hare; then it was Rabbit, discovering that sight-deterioration was caused by a missing lens; Bleeding Fracas; Busty, who'd confused the RA's notepad with an 'iPad'; Streaker and Gis, mixing Hashing with "Political Human Rights"; BeerPump, who passed the pub on a lost trail and then realised that his car was back in Totland; and finally to PoorSod himself who'd recently had a Big Birthday (All his birthdays are 'Big' these days) and who'd stupidly thrown away his old shoes in the pub's skip...
Saturday's Gosport Bash (Attendees 13) was a game of two halves wrote Snowman; the first half was dominated by a certain rugby match, the second half by rain - lots of it. Driven by an urgent desire to watch the match and take part in the Bash later, the Bashers, in groups and singly, made their way to Gosport's Wetherspoons. Early travellers, including Hares Coops and Limpit, rose at dawn to catch the 7:47Cat in order to watch the whole match. The less-dedicated turned up later: Trigger, Wipe-Out and Snowman on the next boat, Nosey on the one after that, P-Rick and Busty, with DilDoh!, sometime later having decided they had to watch the game on their own telly. The game over and won, breakfasts and pints downed (mostly by Dipstick), it was time for the Bash to set off. The trail headed North in a anticlockwise direction around the peninsula (I guess that's what it is) - calling at Hardway (Jolly Roger); Fareham (Lord Arthur Lee) (where I do recall a certain Basher making a nuisance of himself in yet another Wetherspoons - firstly driving people on the next table to go in search of the exit with his high pitched ranting, then stealing food from the plate of a rather brawny bloke on another table! All of which had the management keeping a very close eye on us. Having the Bash banned from every Spoons nationwide would have been a disaster of Titanic proportions); past a muddy field (which P-Rick negotiated on his road-bike) to Stubbington (Crofton) (where Lunch was Bash Chips); and via Lee-on-Solent (hovercraft-spotting) to the Alverbank (a rather drab hotel - apparently the views would have been worth the visit had they not been obscured by sheeting rain - that had only Doom Bar, washed down with PoorSod Downdowns). After Eighteen-odd flat miles, the last pub, The Queens, was a whole different story - packed and rowdy with a plethora of beers to choose from - it was beer-fest time. Just luck or excellent planning by Our Hares? A few good pints later and it was time to dash for the harbour, board ferries, head for home and the obligatory hot bath or shower. An excellent 18-miler of surprisingly-enjoyable Bashing despite the horrid weather. Nicely done Coops and Limpit.
In which Winalot showed remarkable trail-laying ability with a weaving route that started the Long R#n from Shanklin Car Park, down through Tower Cottage Gardens, past the Chine, and then immediately up again to Rylstone Gardens! He seemed to be using a map without contours… Thus we were led up Big Mead, then Sibden Hill, then along the cyclepath and up again to Shanklin Down. The Short Traillers were well primed and managed to meet on the steep, uneven steps up the last bit! On back, crossing the out-trail past St Blasius, got us back in a respectable time. Thanks to Harrys Bar for a fine welcome, and use of the back room, as PoorSod managed to get sufficient sins that were actually relevant to this very varied trail. A welcome to Smiler, yet another recent immigrant to the IWight, coming from Cheltenham Hash.
The legacy of recent Sunday and Moon Hashes through Ventnor, led Limpit and Coops to use the northerly bit - going up onto the Downs above the old Ventnor Railway Station. A starting loop got the pack onto that precipitous track-let above Mitchell Avenue, that met Leeson Hill then ascended, near-vertically, on sheets of mud, up to the radar station. The Short Trail, using the valley, were supposed to meet the Longs here, but this didn't happen until after a circuit of Luccombe Down, cut short by many, and a return across the north face, where the Hares were caught laying the last bit! A Grand Welcome in the Crab & Lobster (excellent Timothy Taylors…) gave opportunity to slag-off the Hares ("for nearly killing us."); discovery that NozeJob was the only one to do the Full Trail of just some four miles; and lastly a short series of minor DDs from Geri and Pump to finish off the beer (a cheaper variety of course!).
And Streaker was nominated to lay his first Sunday trail from the Kingston Arms, Cowes - a venue that can be a bit predictable if you are seeking the handful of footpaths in the area. But the run came up trumps, with a careful combination of woodland, paths and alleyways that linked into a credible Hash.
Fifteen turned up, and about thirteen ran from Brading Car Park on one of the wettest evenings of the year. NoseJob had spent a lot of money on flour, and that led through the Kingstown estate and up to the Downs, on a rather muddy path. Over to the Villa and the run, that, at this point, had seemed a little short, then looped back along the railway and out onto the flooded marshes before returning along Quay Lane to the Kingswell. Visitors, Ryde and Tablewhine - who'd found the previous night's First UK Full Moon trail was some 300yds to the next pub - and also who'd arrived across the Solent to the rainy Hash with a liferaft in their boot - found themselves as RAs, and felt they had to do the whole four miles to collect sufficient sins. These included: The Hare for a "Quality Run"; the failures of Jibs (turning back at the first climb), and Vegas (not making it off the starting blocks); the Hare again for advising the visitors on which was the driest side of the field (the one with only six inches of mud!); DilDoh! for (the usual) torch-scrounging and falling - "Where?" - "On my Bum!"; And it all was thankfully over, with recognition of Streaker's stripping in the Pub with lack of towel, and Coops' limbo-ing out of his car, before we recognised Bean's Virgin Moon Run!
The penultimate Bash for 2019 was led by Grand Crank, Snowman, from Dudley Rd Car Park in Ventnor. A modest Pack progressed along the autumnal undercliff drive to regroup for late breakfast in the Niton Post Office. A bit of off-road and a few lanes got us next to the the Chequers (for early lunch) and then on to the Griffin for pudding. Afternoon Tea was held back at the Crab and Lobster, where plenteous bowls of Chips were extracted from Bash Cash, and PoorSod entertained us with a few memories of the trail: Noze for all sorts of digressions; the Hare for a great day out; and Limpit for yet another puncture!
Clever Old Bart! He'd near-killed-off his family by taking them on an afternoon stroll recceing around the Buddle Inn, Knowles Farm and Windy Corner. Out of that, came a very respectable Hash that weaved down to Castlehaven, round three sides of the lighthouse and murmurated about every trodden path below Old Blackgang Road. Distance was short, but duration was long, as many wished they'd brought some more efficient footwear, including high-speed dog-walking Groyney. Après in The Buddle with Sodders as RA, naming quick-getaway Shorthorn for cutting out a large chunk of Trail; 'shilling-in-the-meter' Winalot who'd found they'd turned-off the Northern Lights when he got there; and from old-retainer LoadingBay recalling our 400th Run in Ventnor - summonsing all our apprentices who weren't even born then!
It was dry and pleasantly warm enough to have been an early spring day when the Hash gathered at Drill Hall Car Park, Newport, for Hash No. 1821 wrote Snowman. This was a Run of two halves: The first half was mainly in town, taking in such notable thoroughfares as Lugley street and Crocker Street. Then it was West through Town Gate and Foxes Road onto Petticoat Lane (and Hare, Sukkers, had said it wasn't long?) After that, it started to get rough and soggy underfoot as the trail headed across country into Parkhurst Forest. Now the shiggy really got going. But it wasn't a long stretch, and there was ample reward at the end. Oates' van was a very welcome sight and he'd set up a table with hot chocolate, brandy and cakes waiting for exhausted Hashers to enjoy - and they did. From there, it was more-or-less a straight run-home across not too disagreeable pathways and company. The Après, taken in the conveniently-situated Crispin, was also not too disagreeable. Lots of excellent grub, decent beer, cheerful Hashers, incomprehensible Downdowns. In all, a well thought-out Run with excellent refreshment stop and good choice of Après. Nicely done Sukkers and Oates.
This is the one where Busty revisits the Wootton Rec and finds a new trail. Immediate water and shiggy, as we pass amongst the puddles of Gravel Pit Road, onto the Cyclepath and into Quarrel's Copse. That took us nicely back into Station Road, from where we descended on the Family Seat, and P-Rick serving festive mince-pies, and appropriate bloody-marys! Moving on, we circuited Woodhouse Farm and emerged at Lakeside. That got us back up the hill, and round the back, and home. A fine welcome from like-minded types at the Rugby Club, and PoorSod gave a short talk on politeness…
A gathering of around eighteen Bashers - including a long-missed Linda (Handcuffs) Jones - collected at Newport Quay, by the decorative road bridge over the turbulent River Medina, under guidance from PitStop (with assistance from Oates), eager to be on their way on what was a chilly, but thankfully dry day. The first section of the Bash was remarkable, flat and short, being the track that runs to the east of the river towards East Cowes and Island Harbour. The unedifying sight of the rusting Ryde Queen first greeted the Bash as it made its way to the curiously named Breeze for the first refreshment stop of the day… From there it was out across the busy A3054 and up to the roundabout, passed the Crem and onto the old railway track, which handily spilled out onto the road just a hundred yards from the Woodmans for the second pit-stop. The next section started with a sightseeing tour of Littletown Lane, which offered a fine view of P-Rick and Busty's (who were not in attendance) abode. From there, it was out onto the Briddlesford Rd and solid ride down into Arreton and the Dairy Maid's Daughter for the final stop of the day. The on-in was a straight forward roll through Arreton to the intersection with the old railway line (which, according to Google Earth, is the River Medina?) and a nice long flat ride back into Newport. A well-thought-out route with nicely spaced beer stops and remarkably flat. If Snowman can manage the whole route without once dismounting for a hill push-up (now that is a bash first) it has to be flat. Excellent. The Après back at Chips' and Pit's was in fact the Bash Xmas party - and delightfully hosted it was too, with Carol's delicious stew and meatloaf - no he wasn't the cabaret - followed by fruit pie and custard, all washed down with Alan's very serious range of home-brews. Lots of Downdowns, hosted by PoorSod and various others, enlived the afternoon, which became increasingly vague as the sun, and the levels of alcohol went down. A few die-hards sat sipping dark rum in the lounge until the vagueness was overcome by amnesia and finally stupor. It's rumoured that one unnamed person was still there when the sun came up the following morning - outrageous. Many thanks to Alan and Carol.
Sunday's Hash from BeerPump and PropShaft's new house in Ventnor. This was also something of a celebration: Champagne(?) awaited the pack as it gathered in the work-in-progress rooms of the property in Blendworth Terrace to toast the brave venture - well, a large part of the flank wall did give way just a month earlier - and admire the vision of what is to be. Then it was off on the trail, which took the Hash down to the front to marvel at the surfers risking life and limb trying to catch the waves by the rocks under the Spyglass Inn. Then it was on to the Botanic Gardens and beyond into Pelham Woods before turning for home along the old railway track. Once again The Crab and Lobster, at very short notice (Because someone unnamed forgot to mention it to the landlord earlier) supplied a veritable feast of sausages, rolls and chips to assuage Hashers hunger. Many Hashers were halfway down the road en route home when the food turned up. They hustled back and scoffed it all then cleared off, most without buying another drink. Embarrassed by such crass behaviour I asked landlord Dave if he minded. He claimed he did not. But I felt compelled to remain and buy more beer. ~Snowman
A strangely Urban R#n for Fracas, from outside of the Solent Inn, Ryde. Torches were optional as we weaved up to the Abbey, then turned to cross the boating lake on the boardwalk, much to the amusement of the late-night swimmers. The rabbit-warren trail continued, up to All Saints, then down to St Johns, coming in at a very respectable 60 minutes. Overseeing all this was Moon RA, Sukkers, with Magician's Assistant, DilDoh! The first group up were 'dress sins' (such as DoorKnob losing his new hat in his coat lining), and joined by Brylcream for check mis-identification. Then a celebration of no fewer than Four Moon Virgins (enough for a good sacrifice here…); Shocker for achieving a credible one hundred (and a bit) Moon R#ns; and finally Our Hare, Fracas, for a delightful trail and an unconvincing moustache.
A few brave Hashers braved the impending storm and assembled at the Shanklin Old Village Car Park for Bart's pre-Christmas-Dinner run around Town. Before the RA could start, the heavens opened and forced us back into the cars of those who could afford to park there. "Just a passing shower!" remarked a civilian, pointing to the Hash House Harriers. Trying not to get too muddy before the Grand Luncheon, the trail went round the back and into Big Mead, while the short trail ignored the markings and followed Chips for a stroll along the front… Cwps
And Coops and Limpit report from the annual Hash and Dinner of the Xystus HHH - a event where all the participants are visitors. Normally a sub-60 around some delightful part of the Forest of Dean, this special event had a few trees, not much distance, and a lot of drinks stops, organised, unsurprisingly, by Island Emigrant MiniHaHa, and friends. Coops almost got a DD for running! On about the third Tuesday of every month, look out for the Coops/Limpit Xystus Trail coming up in May!
"Zummer is icumen in!" cried RA, PoorSod, as we paused beneath Apuldurcombe House on the exact moment of the Winter Solstice, shortly after the start of Snowman's live trail from Wroxall Car Park. The Grey One was nowhere to be seen, having decided that preceding the Pack would mean he'd only have to do all those muddy tracks once! Trail Shepherd was a kindly Balders, who let the Hash off most of the fishukes for extreme exhaustion. Back into the town and past the Star, the trail was anything but finished as we turned at the old railway tunnel and ascended the slippery track to the downs. It got worse, with a whole stretch of that white clayey mud, before we'd all had enough and came back down below Cooks Castle. Our usual Welcome in the Crab and Lobster with the RA spotting a rare Kanga, a second visit for JustAlex, and the return of ArseOver and DB. A raft of minor sins was followed by a celebration for Fracas' New Shoes, while he complained about the excessive amounts of Tarmac between the mudpools!
Most of the Usual Suspects - The Christmas Outing … Newport to Cowes.
Onesies from The Castle - with Geri on trail-design and Bart on catching the fast runners with a map. Along the cliff-top towards Lake, with the unluckier ones following the trail down to the revetment. Across the railway and it was a short leg through Merrie Gardens to meet up with Oates' refreshment stop. The more enthusiastic showed their costumes around the golf course and home via the station. Much merriment in the Castle, where we were banned to the garden to hear PoorSod and experience The Plank (that was most of us).
The Grand Dictator's Report: It was my Birthday on Wednesday 20th February when the new regime of having the run solely on the nearest Wednesday to the Full Moon began. The idea behind this was to increase recruitment from other Island running clubs and indeed it worked. We have throughout 2019 increased to a regular pack of over twenty and injected some great enthusiasm through the Hash as a whole. Sweater and Streaker have certainly kept the old and bold on their toes, but have a long way to go to catch P-Rick and Fracas, now past 200 R#ns (and maybe Fracas soon up for a similar Vindaloo???).
The Great NorthSouth R#n grew again accommodating a record 116 entrants and was our smoothest-ever operation which was down to the introduction of additional check-in staff by PitStop.
As always some stats! The Top Six Lunatics of all time with R#n totals over the past three years are as follows:
The all time Top Ten Vindaloo Rankings (*means still current):
Fracas 190*, Bart 145, Cooperman 106, Sucktion 64, P-Rick 60, Stalker 42, P-Rick 35, Bendover 31, Bergerac 24, DoorKnob 23. Watch this space! Sweater on 17* and Streaker on 9* are chasing down!!
Run/Hare of the year went to Bilbo for his great organisation and trail followed by a BBQ on 19th Jun at Culver Down. A really lovely evening well done! BusStripper's trail from Egypt Point which ended up with a party at the Cowes Week celebrations came a close second! OnOn to 2020! P-Rick