The words according to Under Covers
Hash No. 1418 East Allington – Hares – Rizzo and WGAS
Stand In Words Editor – Rubbery until next AGPU – volunteers welcome…..
Circle up outside the Fortescue Arms in East Allington included the weekly lame joke ritual, a reminder by Nice Buns that Christmas is just around the corner and a welcome to Ding Dong, a veteran of hashing in Fiji.
At that point I got fingered for the Words, which was somewhat ironic as my day had started with a prostate examination.
Hares Who-Gives-a-Shit and Rizzo warned us that this hash might be dangerous – barbed wire, jungley vegetation, electric fences and a wasp nests were all mentioned and dismissed by the crowd in a blasé show of over confidence ….and we were off.
The first check was mysteriously missing until it was pointed out that Softwood had cunningly parked his van on it. We are all used to trail sabotage but by a hasher?? The marks soon led us onto farmland and the adventure began.
After crossing a couple of fields, Overshot was in full short-cutting mode. This seemed to have been anticipated by the hares who had chosen to send us through brambles and nettles, over barbed wire and up and down steep and overgrown wooded slopes without a path in sight. Shaggy, for protection against the brambles and nettles, wore a calf guard on her right leg. Her left leg is as hard as nails.
Wet Spot was soon annoying the Harriets, tickling the back of necks in a simulated wasp action until he tripped and fell flat on his face. Concerned Harriets going to his aid prompted Wet Spot’s guilty confession that he had been messing about. He was left where he fell.
More impenetrable bramble, nettle and 8ft high, tick-infested bracken followed – and what’s with the waist high barbed wire? Anyone would think that Rizzo and WGAS, two of our taller members had something against us shorter hashers. All this led us to the unmanned beer stop. Wet Spot was treated to his own picnic of lettuce and carrot and appeared genuinely touched by the thoughtfulness. It didn’t stop him complaining there was no water. He doesn’t get it, does he? It’s a BEER stop!
WGAS had promised us a swim. Shaggy took one look at the strange toxic crust floating on the stagnant cesspit and unhesitatingly led the FRBs …. on a dry path around the side. Only an idiot would have gone in. You know who you are.
Eventually a welcome On Home sign reintroduced us to tarmac, something we hadn’t seen for over an hour. Gaffer declared it “a proper hash”.
Shaggy’s bleeding knees prompted speculation as to whether the abrasions were hash or carpet inflicted.
Although the trail was well marked – even I followed it – Flage and Winnie managed to get lost, putting it down to more talking and less concentrating. Surely not.
Back in the pub hashers were fed and watered and a couple of hash hounds were fully engaged in chip-hunting. That was until the pub cat wandered into the bar to introduce himself to said hash hounds prompting an instant change of priority. Zoe wanted to play and Torr wanted to kill. The cat retreated and the dogs continued to hoover.
Once all hashers were back safely our RA brought us up to date with a curious case of mistaken identity. According to Re-entry’s informant, Olive had created and published on Facebook, a montage of photos featuring her and Blue Nun. However, on closer inspection not all photos featured the same man. One showed none other than Gaffer wearing nothing more than a thong and a silver Stetson. Olive’s defence – that she wasn’t wearing her glasses – only suggests that there is a photo somewhere of Blue Nun in exactly the same rig as Gaffer.
Down downs were awarded to:-
Hares Rizzo and Who Gives a Shit for a memorable hash
Softwood for sabotage
Olive for having a fantasy husband
Overshot (two down downs) for aggravated short-cutting.
On On to Sea Trout Inn at Staverton