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Run 824, 18th May 2022.

WHERE:
The Windsor Castle, Weston-super-Mare.
HARE: W.Ankle.
WHO: 14 houndless hashers and 2 visitors.
RUN REPORT: 30 years on from that fire, there was no risk of a repeat under a deluge which made our virgin hare fear for that fresh flour every day, hence the live haring chalk arrows that led us huffing and puffing up Milton Hill towards the battlements above Weston that we always love to storm, especially in namesake weather. An early runners' circuit no doubt raised fears of another dicing with Monks Steps, though they would have needed supercharging to get back to the walkers at the time they did if 'twere the conquest. The sharp-eyed had picked up a disintegrated Regroup for such an occasion and thus thought under the trees would be a better bet for finding the surviving flour; the number of fish hooks that sprang out of the foliage perhaps made the FRBs wish this was not the case. Anywho, a Labyrinthian negotiation of many a checkpoint under trees that almost made May head torches a necessity was on the cards, with many ingredients splashing about. Each fish hook encountered led to FRBs semi-colliding Eager Beaver only to spot Brigadoon and Ballsport in the even further distance, next a Runner Walker split fused itself with a Turnback-up-that-hill-from-whence-you-came, and perhaps reward came in the form of a Wine Gum stop next to Worlebury Hillfort and the revelation of a history lesson not coming from the present buff Rewind but from W.Ankle out to hit the haring ground running. We somehow precipitated our way back to an On In maze of the tarmac variety and with mud stains seemingly no higher than the shin - defiant chalk markings instead remained in the run up to the castle.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Deep Throat and Red Light raised the drawbridge to help us drip the bar wet, with a "Grand Old Duke" hare toasting and a "Walky Talky's Falling Down" being impossible to argue against and apparent turnback shenanigans of Any Dog'll Do and Long John not going unseen. Next week's splicing with the Kennet & Avon Crew at the Druid's Arms will apparently take place on Towel Day, oh the irony...
Run 823, May 11th 2022.

WHERE:
The Star Inn, Star, near Winscombe.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 5 Hashers and 1 Hash Hound.
RUN REPORT by Fondue: Some of us arrived slightly early and waited for the usual number of Wednesday Nighters to trickle in, Eager B waiting at the entrance to the Car Park to greet those arriving. Bumburner duly arrived but, alas, no hide nor hair of any others. No problem, we all have busy lives, dates clash and this time there were a lot of clashing dates going on! We set off across the road and took a rather picturesque trail eventually, to my surprise at least ('cos I never know where I am), the track parallel to the car park belonging to The Swan at Rowberrow. Up the main road from there followed a wonderful meander around with stunning views at every turn. So very well plotted by EB - no surprise there - eventually through Shipham and back down to the pub. Scrummy sweetie stops; Baklava and yummy Pizza that was Pizza but wasn't and gummy thingys. Well done Eager, please lay this particular trail again so more Hashers can enjoy the wonderful views.
Run 822, May 4th 2022.
WHERE:
The Observatory, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Brigadoon, Ballsport and Cowslip.
WHO: 1 hound and 31 hashers, among them Princess Leia, Darth Vader et al, though nobody did the trail Solo.
RUN REPORT: Never seen any of the films but prepared to give this as much of a go as my first trail - ready to cut a swathe through thick air with our lightsabers at On Out we were on the lookout for spaceship checkpoints but surprisingly not the themed stickers that a Briggy Halloween trail contains. Then again, enough spooking out already occurred with one non-hash hound feeling sufficiently storm-trooped alongside the River Banwell for its owner to be given a crash course in dressing up and chasing flour by the dozens - we shall wait and see if the virgins come flooding in. For now the majority of the pack just about kept the upper hand over a herd of creatures quite capable of making Chewbacca noises but who instead were quite content to leave sarlacc-like shiggy pits all over the fields. At the direction of Cowslip and her Ewok, an FRB Death Star beach ball was marking its own way towards a riverside sweet stop (disregarding a fish hook for 5 en route) with tangy haribo, sherbet and toffee - I testify that the sherbet clung to the teeth the longest. Rather than shortcut to see what Ballsport had shortcutted for, we all ended up seeking a turnback from nowhere towards Riverbank Medical Centre which thankfully was in zero demand. Default pace duly adopted once back with tarmac, those with the tracking apps soon came to realise that turnback was to complete the trail image of the Darth Vader helmet that Ropey was breathing heavily from. Turned out all that was topically missing in those fields was some Huts for us to Jab...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: No stormtroopers bumped their head on the way into a busy bar, where an inflatable R2D2 bleeped us back out onto the patio away from fans of those kicking a different sort of ball. Down downs galore seemed most appropriate with all the chips being shipped in from the neighbouring Tesco Express - nothing bad to be said to the hares for a change plus welcome to virgin Bea, an acquaintance of Cowslip and long returnee Skidmark. Drop 'Em and Just Matt were also welcomed back, the latter advised only to abuse his lightsaber if wanting a free drink, while Fondue was no longer a repressed hippophobe, titles of Chief Grass went the way of 3s4d and Clawed Balls and an undoubtedly overworked Stretch made the front pages for organising a Greyhounds trail without markings or hare the previous evening. Less a death star more a Star at Star next week; just make sure you don't inadvertently see if those markings at the Tickenham Star have survived...
Run 821, 27th April 2022.
THE BLUEBELL RUN.

WHERE:
The Downs School, Wraxall, later the Failand Inn.
HARES: Inchworm and Coppertone.
WHO: 20 hashers, 2 hounds and 3 visitors.
RUN REPORT: One year of thinking about bluebells indoors, then another visiting bluebells without the company of fellow hashers - time then for a bluebell run proper and how. Without blast from the far past Big Stick around to authorise it, the hares reported a touch of flour curiosity from the school when setting - nothing less than we have grown used to though, and nor were they the only Joe Publics out on the trail - a speed split at On Out featured a possibly non-drinking quintet out with their own running problem, fooling me into thinking a turnback was being executed and also that runners were adopting the walkers' route over towards the outskirts of Noah's Ark. Much more than two of each creature though as the bluebell photo ops abounded once underneath the foliage - one felled trunk in particular resembling the Emerald City just to try and add its own moniker to the Bluebell run. One could hardly accuse locals of changing Falses to look like Runner and Turnback symbols just to make FRWs look silly, so instead we agreed that they were just silly and contented ourselves with a regroup typically over a stream but today merely alongside a plank. The Up, Up and Over encountered a few more dog walkers of the thankfully non-flour-devouring variety, taking time to surprise us with a straight on where we have invariably headed right - it made for looking at the bluebell blanket from beneath rather than above. Each found their own pace as well for On In, perhaps encouraged a little too enthusiastically by the blood gorging insects that began to appear as en masse as our titular plant was. Staying out for a circle was going to take one helluva motivator...
CIRCLE: How about a barrel equivalent of cider from Peeping Tom, satsumas that tasted like they'd been picked during the trail and a double dose of watermelon each? For if at first you don't suck seeds...(as we said last week - Faceplant...). In the circle not just for that joke but also for misreading symbols were Eager Beaver plus Briggy and Bag Lady for losing the FRBs and of course Peeping Tom for giving us a preliminary bar to drink dry. Now, about that Drinking at a Pub Group with a walking problem...
ON ON ON: "Where ya been at?" grumbled the Failand Inn to Peeping Tom who visited it for the first time in 40 years. Enlisted were Down and Dirty, Deep Throat and Red Light to help commandeer the other bar which we are not so used to commandeering, but still comfy enough for a spaced out circle and Briggy announcements for next week's May 4th trail - not so long from now, from an Observatory not so far away...
Run 820, 20th April 2022.
WHERE:
The Star Inn, Tickenham.
HARES: Caught Short and Dicky Dido.
WHO: 27 hashers, you-know-what-hound and a visiting trio.
RUN REPORT: At the circle up our debut hares pretended to play it safe from a pub that never lets Bogs off easily when it comes to earning the right to down-down the bar dry. Not only did "On Out" uniquely adorn the On Out, but floury triangles kept us managing the B3130's petrol sufficiently to reach the seeming safety of Church Lane alongside the trickling Land Yeo. Cue a non-hasher driving past the FRBs as if they had just been given 30 down-downs, even stopping to submit a polite admonishment for us walking on a public highway. For runners this merely led to an appropriate use of adrenaline, branching off from the Causeway to be rounded up by sheep giving as good as they got - talking of rebellion, an arrow quickly appeared at a regular checkpoint to be followed shortly by its brethren pointing us straight into the river. "Ha! Ha!" was the symbolic refutation of this route into Tickenham, and so we opted for the longer and upper alternative towards Cadbury Camp Lane. "R + W" helpfully marked the top of the ascent (the former were careering perhaps unwillingly into a turnback), particularly for Briggy who continues to defy that prepatellar bursitis 11 years on. A slow storming of the fort beheld, with the views stretching out as far as Steep Holm and a jolly mix of pastilles, wine gums and jelly babies mostly devoured before the other welcome view of the runners flocking back North appeared. Duly uninjured, a mostly single speed was adopted heading back downhill past Tickenham Golf Centre (it also boasts Footgolf facilities which is exactly what it sounds like), and the traffic also seemed to have learnt its lesson as we naturally On Inned against it at sunset.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Luckily that motorhead/mouth/brain was not driving in a public bar. With Bumburner politely reminding us that it was "Banana Day" with an ex-Little Eric figurine, plenty of down-downs needed to be on the cards/beer mats. Deep Throat, Red Light and Zider had clearly got the brief about this being for AGPU-level attendance, doubtless also inspired by the return of Double D, Coppertone, Bag Lady, Inchworm and Faceplant; the latter last Bogged at Castle Cary when half his current size but may have socialised a little bit in between. Supposed "revenge" for that prank with the water did not come in the form of singing "Grand Old Duke" for the hares, but instead serving them the same elixir of life by the ice-cold pint. Some was conveniently thus splashed to facilitate the chug - much more hashy drinks went the way of W.Ankle for trying to do two On Outs, Inchworm for walking wounded into a hedge and Amanda for worrying about getting a down-down for doing nothing. Welcome too to virgin Lynette (or Julie if you read her very hash-suited garb), no-doubt politely encouraged to embark here from Nailsea by W.Ankle. Next week's honoured guests (the Bluebells) had already blanketed the views on the way back so keep the standard up (but also flat!)
Run 819, 13 April 2022.

WHERE:
The Penscot Inn, Shipham.
HARES: Eager Beaver & Ropey.
WHO: 22 hashers.
RUN REPORT (by Cinders): A few more hashers this week than last week's half dozen- including virgin hasher W'ankle's friend Becky - followed a delightful route which headed us towards Winscombe and into the (sometimes blinding) sunset, with the first runner/walker split reuniting us alongside a field full of Llamas described as ponies. Then it was onward winding walkers and runners ever closer to Peeping Tom's new(ish) house before a u-turn to steer us back around Sidcot school, and the climb back towards Shipham.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: It was the first "lets all sit outside in the remnants of the evening sun" circle of the year as we congratulated Eager and Ropey on the trail. Just Becky received her just rewards, noting that she has the necessary skills for being a hasher (likes alcohol, likes sweety stops, etc) however she also likes running! and W.ankle had a cidery down down for persuading Becky to come along. A few hashers said that they hadn't been around for a while, but the longest gap before returning, plus the longest journey to get to the hash, belonged to Woodcut, back from Germany for the Easter break.
Run 818, 6 April 2022.
WHERE:
The Jubilee Inn, Flax Bourton.
HARES: Double D.
WHO: See below.
RUN REPORT: [In brief, by Walky Talky]
 
There was only 6 on the hash from the Jubilee,
That included the hares Zider I and Double D.
 
Out in front doing most of the checking was Rocky,
Following behind staying closer to the hare was Fondue & Walky.
 
Bumburner caught up with the aid of the walker trail,
We had a sheltered sweety stop under a bridge, in case of any hail.

Run 817, 30 March 2022.

WHERE:
The Ship, Portishead.
HARES: Should have been Backchat and Inchworm, but only Inchworm in the end.
WHO: 10 hashers.
RUN REPORT by Cinderella: The first hash after the clocks went forward was welcomed by a wet and very un-Spring-like cold evening, and the news that Backchat hadn't help set the hash because she'd broken her arm a week or so before! So commiserations and good wishes to Backchat - but the hash must go on, so Inchworm left one of his daughters on nursing duty and set the route alone. Maybe if Backchat had been there she'd have pointed out that if you mark checkpoints in chalk instead of flour just before it rains they might be completely washed away by the time you set off around the route! Not that this bothered the hardy group who simply checked out most junctions on the way to visit the coast path (where there is no shelter from wind and rain) and eventually found their way back to the top of the hill and the Ship again.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: The select group were joined by Flour Power and Alan (who took the unmarked short cut - from the pub car park into the pub). Half of the Hares were thanked with a Grand Old Duke of York inspired song, and a speedy recovery wished to the other half of the hares. Peeping Tom noted the plaques and other naval memorabilia on the walls, noting that he had served on a few of the named vessels, and the Landlord, Vic Long, gave us some background information re some of the displays. Just Kate was the only Walker there, and we couldn't let her "walk alone" so the Hare kept us all together on the same route, and Kate was named "PaceMaker" (for those that are too young to remember Gerry and the Pacemakers made the song You'll never Walk Alone famous). And the rest of the pack had a down-down for simply turning up to do a Down and Up hash on a miserable Spring evening.
Run 816, 23rd March 2022.
WHERE:
The Ebdon Arms, Wick St Lawrence, W-s-M.
HARES: Software and Dongle.
WHO: 17 hashers (6 of them very late) and 3 hounds.
RUN REPORT: From the scribe's mouth it can be confirmed that even the most Kingston Seymour, Yatton and Congresbury contrived of commutes to this trail was not going to get you there on time, what with the enormous spanner in the works that is an M5 standstill. Thus Ropey, Kerb Crawler, Cinderella, Walky Talky, Bumburner and yours increasingly hypertensively took to the Ebdon Arms surroundings at 7:45 in ponderous search of arrows, perhaps also trusting to the scent of haute cuisine from afar that we always get from these hares. For once a bobbing headlight behind us turned out NOT to be Clawed Balls, in fact it was a non-hasher possibly out to report mysterious white markings again; oh how our fame still needs to spread. A night destined to be the acid test for back-marking certainly rose to the occasion, with a regroup alongside the River Banwell looking like it was laid 5 minutes prior, even if those uninhibited by traffic had already marched onward. Another quizzical non-hasher turned up twice complete with skateboard - we should of course be thankful that for now no such encounters with E-scooters appear on the cards, particularly with the customary visit to Castle Batch after another pristine fish hook for 5 had passed us by. With head torches soon to be singing their seasonal swansong, the Batch was left to fit its own green belt and the views around the outskirts of the Crematorium sought instead. I should also mention that even if the regroup and fish hook showed no signs of wear and tear, the many checkpoints certainly were sufficiently "damaged" to keep effectively two separate hashes in check, including when we all finally came together for...
...CIRCLE: Neatly tucked into our roadside alcove, the hares again showed they certainly do not need any future £150,000 investment from Gordon Ramsay to reach culinary Utopia - sausage rolls and quiches for all members of the food chain were wolfed down with cider 'n' orange to complete the much welcome return of the beer stop, naturally not complete without a few crimes and "hares on the mountain". All 6 M5 malingerers knew what had been coming to them from step one out of their car, while Fondue and 3s4d soaked up runner route misdirection with the former mistaking Eager and Ropey for "just Kate" - it must have been the lack of huffing and puffing....
ON ON ON: Oh and that far from malicious or infectious Software was not done yet - in front of a spring-warming fire in an otherwise empty pub save for a "Midlands" barman actually up from Torquay, the co-hare fulfilled her promise of cake with added bogs-centred icing for interest. To match that the Ship at Portishead next week may just need a revival of THOSE pasties...
Run 815, 16th March 2022.
WHERE:
The Lamplighters, Shirehampton.
HARES: Walky Talky and Kerb Crawler.
WHO: 15 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Set in shiggy, hashed in shiggy! Bravery need hardly have been a trait of the less-than-recent numbers venturing tother side of the Avon, especially as one couple of Bogs virgins had ventured all the way over the pond to see if our trails could be just as bonkers. After brushing aside an arriving Peeping Tom the noisy Portway was briefly eschewed in favour of Google Earth's The Daisy Field, a moniker possibly rolled out in honour of our stalwart namesake hound out to take as much of the shiggy home as could be. Once the warnings of "petrol!" were deemed less necessary the checkpoints were soon out in force, spliced with a welcome turnback 1 which sent runners through the most surreptitious of commons, not for the first time with yonder walkers taking the moral high road. Make that high walk as we all creaked up the most Jacobs-like staircase of Severn Way to earn the sweet stop that beckoned near Penpole Point. Midget Gems obligingly fell out of their packet, lemon sherbets less so as one Bog may have got a taste of paper to go with their tang. It turned out that after all that shiggying and checkpointing (including an honourable checking of downhills that were never on the route cards, respect!), one Penpole was not enough for this trail as the runners emerged on namesake Lane and evaded the temptation of checking out the grounds of the cricket, football and golf clubs they were surrounded by. Mere tarmac pointed the way back walker-ward, much to Rewind's dismay as he was clearly already up for another Grand Old Duke affair. There was still nonetheless enough time for the novelty of Bogs using traffic lights in earnest plus a First Great Western turning up on time at Shirehampton, just when we did not need it. All that uppy and downy without Uppy, Downy or Bryher made this feel like a quarter marathon, but actually 8:40 was the bell toller so pretty spot/blob on...
CIRCLE AND ON ON ON: Downstairs in the easy chairs with plenty a naval theme to go around, Captain Cinders began with the customary "what do we think of the hash?" to be met with certainly the most silent response this scribe has ever witnessed. "Small blobs!" was offered, but I think we were all just out of breath, not to mention awestruck by the return of a not-even-hobbling Toni whom you really needed to be there to appreciate how the handle W. Ankle came to be. Likewise for Virginia virgins Eiffel Tower and...Second Coming, the former of whom had tumbled into purely horticultural shiggy en route. Hand in hand with a returning Up For It we most certainly are for Software's pre-birthday hash with open Ebdon Arms next week - there will be cake decorated with Mars Bar Crunch...
Run 813, 2nd March 2022.

WHERE:
The Brewer's Arms, Banwell.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
POETIC RUN REPORT [by stand-in Scribe, Walky Talky]:

The hash from The Brewer's in Banwell had a turnout of twenty,
Lucky at the sweet stop there were still treats a-plenty.

We were warned not to short-cut in fields however tempting it seemed to be,
Once there were could see why as there were big puddle you wouldn't see.

We lost our way in one big field and didn't see the arrow on the gate,
We were worried about finding another landowner who was irate.

In the circle the coerced stand-in RA Brigadoon took control,
He didn't start with the hare (Eager Beaver) because he forgot the protocol.

Pepping Tom had made Just Julie come on the Bogs hash for the first time,
She lost her gloves to barbed wire and was named "Sticky Fingers" for the crime.


Run 812, 23rd February 2022.
WHERE:
The Ring O'Bells, Nailsea.
HARE: Rewind.
WHO: 23 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Do not even think of going and changing, Rewind. We would not have the "Control" and "Experimental" pool of hash trails without the "Rewind" ones to compare findings. Conclusive proof abound during the early stages that Nailsea folk have grown used to their turf turning all floury, particularly when within a few stone throws of the Ring O'Bells and White Lion, to the extent that by the time we briefly had the opportunity to substitute head torches for floodlights, the gatecrashed game of rugby at Nailsea RFC (strangely missing T30 or 300 symbols) seemed the more ladies-and-gentlemanly sport for the evening. Oddly intact post-Eunice and Franklin gates duly lulled us into a false sense of conquest, for then came a stile and puddle too deep even for Mudlark to soak it all up. By the time we had carried most of the Parish Brook on our feet to the idling Engine Lane, stalwarts Bumburner, Flour Power plus those still newbie enough to be hare-less felt up to doing the most 8pm-like of On Ins, but for Down & Dirty and yours Rewind-faithfully the next experiment of this Rewind-them-up was that of social deprivation - loss of smell, taste and perhaps even some feel in the dark was not enough to miss the headtorches abounding into the distant heather (whether or not their owners were with them). Duly spewed out onto Youngwood Lane, the thought of arriving back well after down downs occurred to this BRB duo, but then behold a smattering of lights plus Mudlark coming back from whence in the neighbouring field. In place of instincts there was the desire to follow them, but then came even more revelations with Rocky Horror (in the role of sweeper in a 0-1-2-20 formation) accompanied by Mr Ger Orf Moi Land!!!! Apparently some relocating of rocks had been too high octane for even Rewind to remember 100% where the public footpaths strayed; it seems such farm folk are even easier to rouse than Smaug when you tread private. The fresh flour every day nonetheless pacified sufficiently for no more territory marking to be necessary, so all that remained was for On In to cut and paste a few prior On Outs well prior to reaching anything like a 9pm Ring O Bell toll...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: After all that it felt quite like the theme of the evening to be minus a social albeit socially distanced hare, so everyone down downed little on his behalf. There was also the 2022 feel of a sacrificial virgin being thrown in at the very deep end, namely Amanda from Backwell, along with the intrusive pack, a tumbling Ropey and a toast to a Centurion Bumburner. Rocky Horror no doubt also felt pleased about helping a farmer with his enquiries rather than Lytton Cheney police, cue on on to the sporadic Brewers Arms in Banwell next week, no doubt with its last co-hare Koko smiling down on us...
Run 811, February 16th 2022.
WHERE:
The Bridge Inn, Yatton.
HARES: 3/4d and Clawed Balls.
WHO: 21 minus 5 hashers and the ultimate shiggy-defying hound.
RUN REPORT: Spring-loaded with the potential to sweep us off our feet, the lanterns lit up in the car park at no point looked like being a distress beacon particularly as the pack came with enough knowledge of its own limitations against the elements. 3&4 pence duly used the lanterns to illuminate the circle up with an X for False and a T for False if you read it like a T; otherwise you should bravely battle on ahead. Down & Dirty lasted one corner before opting for cosy rather than brain and brawn, then before we could square up to the M5 a somewhat hobbling Briggy returned also with with his Cowslipping, Ballsporting, Flour-Powered entourage. This meant abandoning the pack to either run the gauntlet of Kingston Seymour and its back back doubles, or to pick up plenty of preparatory shiggy at walking pace with motorway commuters for company, no doubt astounded by the presence of such a footpath and headtorches alongside them. The latter ragtag had already hurdled a few stiles and splodges before they picked out a sweet stop with the promise of runners returning over yonder bridge, but with many fruit pastilles, wine gums et al having already dematerialised, the co-hare and a non-dam-busting Eager Beaver ventured over traffic to at least play Lighthouses. One initial glow from, well...the tarmac kept us in suspense, but soon the Clawed-inspired jog appeared en masse and found the walkers had already gone hunting for bigger game. It may actually have been the other way round - prior recces in these parts can testify to a quagmire of bovine shiggy hither even in a heatwave, and so there was never going to be any let-up on this Eunice-preceding evening. With everyone bar a vacuum-packed Mudlark boasting as freshly fertilised footwear as could be, the Little River did indeed seem an anticlimactic neighbour as we pressed on in search of either bovine or Yatton civilisation, another pleasant package was beheld when rambler-fresh bridges helped us through the various hedgerows en route - during lockdown solo recces these have been practically falling into the river - how our fame has spread for another red carpet rollout. New Yatton welcomed us back over the threshold, albeit not without sending us in and out of a trench what with all the evening's shiggy warfare. 8:45 was the target if you still felt like being fed in the style of a hungry horse, though if they knew the route we were planning they would surely keep the kitchen open until 11...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: A hobbling Cinders swelled the ranks sufficiently to down down the hares and Eager for their motorway patrolling, many also looking on in wonder at how far the shiggy had worked its way up Bumburner's staff (don't go there) during the evening's bogsnorkel. Hopefully the envisaged burger van at Good Ol' Grove Sports Centre next week will not have set off for Emerald City!
Run 810, 9 February 2022.

WHERE:
Uppy and Downy's, Clevedon.
HARES: Dressing Down and Up All Night. WHO: 27 hashers.
RUN REPORT (by Cinders): If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise
If you go down in the woods today, you'd better...
...be prepared to lose the marked trail after the sweety stop - which everyone, including the hare, did. So everyone (we hope) in various subgroups of walkers and runners eventually found a variety of routes to manage the final mile out of the woods and back to Uppy and Downy's where a well lit BBQ was waiting for everyone's sausages.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: A few decided that a February BBQ was not for them and went straight home, but the rest of us enjoyed the mild weather and, for a second week, the Hare's received double down downs. This week Dressing Down's was for getting lost on her own trail and Up All Night for reaching his 100th hash recently and he was awarded the centurion's helmet and cloak for the privilege. The two neighbour virgins had gone home pre Down Downs, but Moneypenny and Droop, stalwarts of Greyhound HHH, were noted as being on their first BOGS hash. Walky Talky celebrated getting old, by being given two identical birthday cards signed, between them, by all present, and we remembered Rebore who would have been 70 a few days ago, with balloons, a cake, a toast, and lots of talking.
Run 809, 2 February 2022.
WHERE:
The Rising Sun, Backwell.
HARES: Bumburner.
WHO: 23 hashers.
RUN REPORT (by Cinders): It may have been Heavenly Hash day in the USA on the 2/2/2022, but it was Bumburner's devilishly devious hash day in Backwell, with numerous long loops for the runners and short cuts for the walkers keeping the pack very much together. Both the runners and the walkers were so keen that they bypassed the HH regroup so the Hare had to hastily rearrange the regroup about 15 yards away (after yet another long and short loop), where we were treated to some Heavenly Hash - which, apparently is a very tasty variant on a rocky road - prepared by the Hare's own fair hand. Then it was a fairly straightforward route across fields back to the pub, apart from the runners route which seemed to peter out in some bushes - "Oh yes" said the Hare, "I couldn't get through there either when I was laying the trail, so I turned around and came back"!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: The pub sensibly put us in a back corner which fitted our number very well, and we celebrated the recipe nickers who wanted to be able to replicated Bumburner's efforts, and reminded all those runners in the first loop who were almost led off trail into other fields, of the dangers of following Rewind. Finally the Hare was given two down downs, for setting the trail, and also for getting the pub to provide chips to celebrate his birthday.
Run 808, 26th January 2022.
WHERE:
The Bristol House, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Ballsport and Dressing Down.
WHO: 22 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Forever immortalised as the Burns Night hash that only made us stronger. The split of speeds at the start line gave little indication of what fate would throw, though the customary catchy uppy came via a grandmasterly Deep Throat effort rather than the usual Bum Burning or Clawing of Balls. A co-hare burdened by a bag of Irn Bru and Whishhhkeyy negotiated many a fish hook and uphill checkpoint, albeit with the sinking feeling that the pack had already shut up shop. Alas, the small group of FRBs ahead were not regrouping, they were tending to a walking wounded hasher! Up wheeled a good samaritan to hightail it On In to wherever a running problem wanted, and continuing the stranger lack of danger feel there was Missapp out discovering flour again and giving a very good indication as to On On. It just so happened to be an abandoned sweet stop ahead, for it takes All Sorts - some non-hashers were out in force in an unlit Grove Park shouting enough of their own form of friendly encouragement to send us firmly in the opposite direction. By the time a safer regroup came into view just beneath the woods, Dressing Down recruited a couple of porters to keep the drinking problem on ice until she lights a homely firepit a fortnight hence. All FRBs, MRBs and BRBs managed the floury ascent towards Weston's peak, the latter two groups even timing another speed split perfectly as a regroup bedecked with "Gone To Pub" stepped warily out of the darkness. We all needed a downhill for down down after that exhilaration, and the well bogged border of Ashcombe Park duly obliged.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: A banished Bryher made do with Dressing Down and a tagging along Down and Dirty for car park company, plus a recipe for some always welcome Irn Bru cocktails. Well wishes too to the hares and walking wounded - classic Backwell Rising Sun in pitch black to follow next week.
Run 807, January 19th 2022.
WHERE:
The Kings Arms, Easton-in-Gordano.
HARES: inchworm and Coppertone.
WHO: 18 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Armed with tried and definitely trusted hares the king's army of hashers hastened forth in search of checkpoints that still kept FRBs and co-hare confused as to the right way On Out, perhaps due to St George's church not choosing the right time to chime and instead leaving us with the novelty of looking for flour. In a not unheard of but still press-holding moment, checkpoints on the uphill had been left out specially for the walking fraternity, whose numbers included a Deep Throat nearly in deep schtum when checking it out, were it not for a local who invented a co-trail back to the pack with him. As it turned out the runners were busy rescuing Mudlark from a shiggy ditch - the end result was a hound not content with a Baked Alaska resemblance and instead an "upgrade" to Marble Cake. With such confectionary on the brain a sweet stop packed with wine gums and trail mix seemed a good thing to bob those head torches along to. Many classic Pill highlights followed - a hash flash of the Avonmouth Bridge, the recent possible Bogs debutant the Duke of Cornwall and a split of speeds in anticipation of storming the battlements on Watch House Hill. En route though many of the runners decided the shiggy ahead was more to their taste than the possibility of having to slalom around cyclists, and so a pincer movement was executed on the regroup on the mound to finish off that which remained from the sweet stop. Two walkers' routes was one too many for a scribe who finally decided to lift both feet off the ground shortly thereafter. This runners' loop constituted not only Channel 4's Brookside but also its eponymous open space (I'll believe anything Google Maps tells me) complete with shiggy that Mudlark seemed mysteriously intent on evading. No sooner had we morphed back into one then the neighbouring greenbelt came calling with promises of a pre-9 On In, albeit with the subterfuge of some pretty slippery steps ready to dump you over the finishing line (I thankfully speak from inexperience). Oh, and there might have been a Wolf Moon howling encouragement the whole trail!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Venison pie had apparently been quickly down downed at the bar before we all lit it up; the K-9 rescue had been headed by Clawed Balls while Fondue halved out Deep Throat's half pint for his brief misdirection. Kilts up to the much welcome return of the haggis hash at the Bristol House next week - tartan obligatory, passports not so yet...
Run BOG, 12th January 2022.
WHERE:
The Bristol Inn, Clevedon.
HARES: Kerb Crawler and Cinders.
WHO: 32 hashers and 2 hounds - a January ASS hash?!
RUN REPORT: Plenty of those Run 806 t-shirts to get bogged down in, and too monstrously represented for traffic calming or even social distancing in the car park. Without the divine intervention of Deep Throat on the On Out and Up we may have still been storming the battlements of Dial Hill at time of writing; instead an against-traffic checkpoint preceded a runners' route with lashings of Turnback 2 and an alley whose local nickname does not belong on these pages. A timely catch-up with the walkers beckoned right outside the thankfully unnecessary Medical Centre; their numbers included a well-up-to-scratch Flour Power and Down & Dirty clearly out to set their own furious pace in the style of traditional catchy-uppies Bumburner and Clawed Balls. Once over the Land Yeo though our inner compass started to enter erratic mode - one such debate as to the pursuit of flour that wasn't there was even sandwiched by two subways. A good thing then that walker route 3 of 4 featured the assembly of distant runners back in a riverside manner, complete with a sweet stop clearly out to rival last week's dizzy fizzy heights. After taking our pick 'n' mix from bubbly Aeros, Celebrations, Trail Mix and After 7:55 Mints, nobody yet felt like trailblazing their own On Back in cowardice of the shiggy that lay ahead, above and beyond. Instead we cut a swathe through the most tucked away of footpaths to then emerge onto Davis Lane, in time though to separate FRB from MRB and BRB. A little recruitment of a scribe into the BRBs' ranks was not enough to deter Briggy, Ballsport and Flour Power from making their way back to the pub in the style of a flying crow - no matter as split second timing brought all plodders back together right alongside the clock tower signing 8:50. This was still too early for Down & Dirty to praise a lack of hills on the trail, for the drinking dry of the bar was already under way up yonder Chapel Hill....
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Kudos to Down & Dirty and Flour Power (the lionesses that can certainly still bite) plus hares from this week and last. Alongside a Bogs virgin or two there were genuine virgins in the form of Dave and Kate, acquaintances of Cinders whom he has somehow never mentioned this running problem to. The former chugged his down down with somewhat more aplomb than the latter, and mention too must go to litter picker Bumburner and that trusty wooden staff. Nobody trusted a more flexible and unsavoury-looking latex model in the pub, perhaps reserved for the more traditional locals - we prefer to start getting our Yeovil ASS in gear, starting yester-week!
Run 805, 5th January 2022.
WHERE:
The White Hart, Wrington.
HARE: Any Dog'll Do.
WHO: 23 hashers and 1 dog'll do!
RUN REPORT: Never even the slightest threat of a dull moment - any Bog would do for the bog that threatened many times to swallow us whole, out to prove the point of a debut hare who has picked up the ropes as quickly as those muddy shoelaces. Pretending to dodge On Out traffic and checkpoint in tandem led to an early speed split - for runners the misplaced trust in gravel over shiggy caused a brief "ger orf moi land!" from both the local canine and homo sapiens populace, and so a gravel grovel it was to find some barbed wire had popped up since September, perhaps thinking of our proximity to the river and not wanting those walkers to have too much free rein of the woods above Cleeve. Debut hare novelty continued its theme when a regroup for runners only appeared out of the shiggy, followed by a double dose of prison-tally fish hooks on the tarmac uphill to the beckoning foliage. The pretty wafer-thin excuse for waiting for BRBs to catch up before completing said hooks was that time was needed to decipher them; no less excusable was missing an arrow that stopped a second dose of ger orf moi land from coming to the fore. By now news had filtered from ahead of Briggy and Ballsport playing early catchup with the bar, plus Bumburner completing his own catchup at the double. These "feet-on-the-floors" even needed reining in from the falses ahead once we had meandered a few woody crossroads on the up. Here Oreos, Pastilles and Purple Violets were the mere highlights of a regrouping that made us feel like big kids in a sweet stop - no amount of warning triangles though could prevent a landslide of hashers on the way down towards a potential hound recruitment conference yonder, so instead we relied on our sure footing and experience of these parts stretching back to the noughties. Complacency had inevitably been raised by that marching down from the top of the hill, and so it was time for nature to unleash the ankle deep assault course that few of the boarding kennel contingent barked encouragement for. Kerb Crawler, ever the stalwart, managed to cut the slightest of long cuts through the trees to avoid taking all of the shiggy home with her, but none could match the stoicism of lone hound Bryher who ended this shig-athon not like Mudlark's mere Baked Alaska, more a Mississippi Mud Trifle. There were obstacles overhead as well as underfoot, Inchworm in particular following a hunch to avoid the fallen branches that preceded civilisation down on Wrington Road. Time enough too to squeeze in another Runners' home run, conquering the local gymkhana with their own two feet and testifying that the Back Garden Buddha is still there watching over these trail parts - must have made us runner-walker converts regret our choice of keeping "with traffic" for On In.
ON ON ON: Pretty cosy looking from the outside, especially as Briggy is already underway in his introduction of his ASS to Yeovil for the first time this year. The oft-overlooked Bristol Inn beckons in Clevedon next week; poetic licence to haul along a few such eponymous hashers?
Run 804, 28th December 2021.
WHERE:
The King's Head, Bedminster Down.
HARES: Walky Talky and Kerb Crawler.
WHO: Life begins with 40 hashers, 5 of them canine.
RUN REPORT: A smörgåsbord of Bogs, Greyhounds and Bristolian hashers combined with a smörgåsbord of weather conditions to serve up a major shiggy-fest for 2021's hopefully last hoorah. Them drowned rat hares began proceedings with a few symbol demos that amazingly did not get washed away before hitting the ground - thankfully this theme did at least continue for On Out briefly along the A38, for any slips 'n' slides would not have gone down well with roaring traffic. We have came and conquered yonder shiggy downhill towards the South Bristol Link Road before, but this time it mercilessly gave both Walky Talky and Software the slip (estimates may place the number of ars' over 'eds as high as 5), so even the hardiest of hasher (aka the welcome returnee Rewind, no stranger to Shrek hashes) may have been thankful to taste tarmac underfoot alongside Colliter's Brook-turned-white-water-rapid. That may even have been the peak of what nature could fling at us, for runners then coped amicably with an under and over the link road, and in plenty of time to catch up to a regroup underneath a couple of First Great Westerns. Clearly not knowing whether we were hashing, coming, going or waiting for the buses along Feeder Road, Kerb Crawler stepped up to Feed Her pre-8 mints to another lush green regroup, deceptive enough to have sent Shiggy Valentine up a footpath threatening to turn into a paddle-free creek. No such liberties were to be taken on said lane, a blob or ten ensuring the quickest diversion back uphill - no amount of leaves on the footbridge were going to delay us! Nor was there any sign of straggling by the time we touched base again with the A38 - the Spirit of Rebore at the Crematorium had of course ensured everybody kept chatting away on this trail.
ON ON ON: Come the very Alien-to-Bogs (even on an ASS) touchdown at 1215 hours, I opted for my own outdoor festive Glitter Berry down downs while most of the pack staked their claim to a Golden Lion's share of the King's Head. Bring on another great year for developing an outdoor running problem......
Run 803, 22 December 2021.
WHERE:
The Parish Pump, North Worle Shopping Centre.
HARES: Fondue, assisted by Dongle.
WHO: 11 hashers.
RUN REPORT (written by Cinders):
We 11 BOGS hashers of North Somerset are,
bearing head torches we travel so far,
Over field and fountain, moor and mountain slight incline,
Following yonder Chalk and flour.
"O little town of Worle",
we circumnavigated it all.
"Silent Night"
was Dongle's comment on some calling at the arrowed junctions.
Noel, Noel,
"No flour, no flour!" was the pack's response.
CIRCLE: "God rest ye merry gentlemen" (and gentle ladies), which is what we did at the "beerstop" at Dongle and Software's garden.
"Bring me meat and bring me wine" or alternatively bring me Fondue's salmon and cream cheese, or chilli jam and cheese, bites and pecan pies and Dongle's mulled cider.
"We wish you a merry Christmas" was the final refrain as we left the Parish Pump at the end of the aprés hash.
ON ON ON: On Ho Ho On to a joint Bogs, Bristol, and Greyhound hash on Tuesday 28/12/21 at 11:00am - hared by Walky Talky and KC - at The King's Head, 91 Bridgwater Road, Bedminster.
Run 802, December 15th 2021.
WHERE:
The Plough, Congresbury.
HARES: Software and Dongle.
WHO: 17 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Keep calm in spite of the emergence of a new hash symbol variant - Dongle informed us of the spike proteins to look out for on checkpoints before the evening turned into a game of far-from-trivial pursuit of the walkers for them "off-the-grounds". The customary catcher-upper Clawed Balls was duly sent back to find the runners once over the road; for FWBs the executive decision around the back doubles (or as close as Congresbury can get to them) was to ignore checkpoints and follow the co-hare; basically act like virgins. It brought us to a newly bogged footpath bypassing a nature reserve for bats; by now Dongle was considering resorting to echolocation of the runners, even if the roar of Briggy's weir nearby proved too tempting. Eventually those bobbing torches came into view at the same time that walkers decided to switch theirs off - remember those checkpoints were still out for BRBs to solve. They were at least thankful for walkers ploughing their way through surprisingly copious shiggy, given the very dry December we are having, though not enough for it to be up to the shins of 2 converted FRBs who also opted to initially miss a fish hook for 5. The waters had not been muddied enough either for a walking scribe to disobey that hook, more out of missing Mudlark than wishing to avoid down downs. She had indeed transmogrified into her classic Baked Alaska design, a dish paling in comparison to what was served up at a suburban beer stop. Just before I could loudly bemoan the absence of Mars Bar Crunch...some Mars Bar Crunch appeared alongside starry shortbread, jelly babies and mulled wine. We even managed to spew out a post-beer-stop fish hook (last seen in coalition times) prior to an 8:40 touch-down (or whatever timekeeper Cinders deemed it).
ON ON ON: A bench-warming Bumburner welcomed us over the threshold (so it appeared from those consigning themselves to outdoors for now anyway) and Fondue decided to change address to the Parish Pump at Weston next week; their pecan cakes and pavlova though are NOT as good!
Run 801, 8 December 2021.
WHERE:
The Phoenix, Portishead.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 15 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT (written by Cinders): On a cold, but fortunately dry, evening the tail end of Storm Barra took mercy on those out for a hash more suited to Halloween, as it passed through two graveyards on the route. There was a sweety stop which was slightly extended as we waited for the walkers to catch up. They would have been there sooner but were so busy looking at Xmas lights rather than flour that they ended up doing an extra walkers loop! When we reached the start of Big Wood, those who knew the area were expecting a bit of a climb, but Eager kept us on the lower edges before sending us down to the road and the route back to the pub, with just an odd runners loop or two, a fishhook or so, and some mince pies, to detain us before we were back in the comfort of the Pheonix's conservatory.
CIRCLE and ON ON: The hare was thanked for the trail; Briggy noted for trying to blame the walkers extra loop on Ballsport; Clawed Balls awarded for his services to wearing shorts, catching up and trying to do every fishhook going; Dicky Dido celebrated for having realised that the words to the song of her name were a little bit rude; and Cinders gave himself a down down for getting older this week.
Run 800, 1 December 2021.
WHERE:
The Salthouse, Clevedon.
HARES: Wet Wipe and Mouth2Mouth.
WHO: 15.
RUN REPORT: With some of us in their best Xmas running kit, our hares showed us the classic Clevedon sights of the Marine Lake, Wain's Hill, Marshall's Field, the Blind Yeo, and Poet's Walk, keeping us moving along at a reasonable pace to ensure we got back intime for our 800th celebration meal - which also doubled as our Xmas meal - although also managing to fit in a stop at the Lookout, where Mr Mouth2Mouth had lugged our pre-meal treat of hot mulled wine and mince pies.
Circle & ON ON ON: All togged up and joined by those BOGS who only came for the food, the circle was more of a very long sausage of 33 of us. Just Julie's running attire of a number of Xmas lights didn't go unnoticed - there was one red one, one white one, and... well, a naming, so Julie is know known as Dicky Dido. DT, who started BOGS Hash 800 runs ago (and 15 yrs ago in Dec 2006) was presented with a small plaque querying whether the Hokey Cokey really was what it was all about. In the excitement of the staff bringing loads of really good food, the RA forgot to thank the hares, especially M2M on her first ever haring, so down downs for them next time.
Run 799, 24th November 2021.
WHERE:
The Woodborough Inn, Winscombe.
HARE: Rocky Horror.
WHO: 18 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Right from the off this was going to be a hare's Picture Show, rather than the calm before Storm Arwen that those braving the deep freeze had hoped for. Despite the pink and blue chalk markings to go with the flour, On Out did not have the feel of a gender reveal party - rather a speed reveal as the runners immediately took in the back back doubles, sporadic flour ensuring that we stayed on good terms with the locals even if not recruiting them. Such a circumnavigation was not to be followed by an immediate saunter back to the pub even if a right at the crossroads would have done so - the lure of hunting a pack of walkers up ahead proved so great that the regroup was deemed too early to open up the sweets. Our eternal conquest of the A38 kept us on course for the grounds of Sidcot School - nobody got the cane (or even the staff of the absent Bumburner), however many were to get the fish hooks that sandwiched a Rhubarb and Custard sweet stop on the Strawberry Line. It was not only out of Down Down fear that Rocky had asked if we had new shoes on at the circle up - once out of the cyclist's path no amount of high road or low road would protect FRBs and their fishy contingent from the shiggy on offer. Duly bogsnorkelled, another runners' loop performed the revolutionary step of turning Backchat into Frontchat - one whom the hare crossed out another fish hook for 5 for as we wanted to take on the approaching cattle en masse. That fear anyway went unfounded as the ground looked sufficiently trampled for the cows to look on in wonder rather than defiance; a much larger hazard soon stepped out of the hedgerow in the shape of a stony Troubled Bridge Over Water; none fell in but every FRB applied the brakes for it. A final speed split straddling the Strawberry Line provided another opportunity for subterfuge - Backchat was made to believe she had touched down first at a wintery 8:40 but a peek indoors showed up a quintet of FRBs with their pints - not that it was a race!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: With the pub filling up rapidly we braved the cold patio and benches for handing Maggie the handle of Caught Short (we're always out for Number 1 on these trails...), Briggy announcing virgin ASS hash territory in Yeovil for 2022 and a reminder of BOG shirts to come for run 806 and a warmup-length festive trail at the Salthouse next week - let's hope Storm Aragorn does not follow Storm Arwen.
Run 798, 17 November 2021.

WHERE:
The Duke of Cornwall, Pill.
HARE: Bumburner.
WHO: 22 hashers.
RUN REPORT (by Cinders): On a trail that was full of twists, turns, backchecks and false trails the runners somehow managed to travel around 5 miles, while never getting further than half a mile away from the Duke of Cornwall at any time, with mischievous short cuts (marked after the front of the pack had gone past) keeping the walkers in touch with or ahead of the runners throughout. At the sweety stop, whilst watching the lights of a "this mum runs" running group, and of a night time cycling group, going past us, virgin hasher Olivia, was asked what she thought of her first ever hash. "Strange, but fun" was the reply, which is probably why we all enjoy it.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Bumburner was celebrated for the Long and Winding Road which lead to the pub, and we welcomed virgins Trojan and Just Olivia before they left to go back to school.
Run 797, 10th November 2021.
WHERE:
Grove Sports Centre, Nailsea.
HARE: Double D.
WHO: 20 hashers and good ol' quadruped Mudlark.
RUN REPORT: Our tried and definitely trusted hare faced a bit of credit competition from her alliterative contemporaries at warmup, but the location and effort put in clearly confirmed that Double D was putting on the AGPU haring rather than Down & Dirty (or Dungeon Dragons, for that matter). Fears for a freshly shampooed Mudlark living up to her handle as we On-Outed across the sports field turned out to only be half-founded; she resembled more of a Viennetta than a Baked Alaska come On In. Outraged at the concept of consistently bringing up the rear, Deep Throat and Red Light motored down an Engine Lane shortcut to keep pace with the pack, no doubt inspiring the same from Bumburner who somehow teleported into the Queens Road echelons of the trail later. Yours truly also deemed this as good occasion as any to let Ropey off the leash on a runners' route - not only did he briefly make the BRBs think he had gone AWOL, he also got very lucky with the fish hooks and checkpoints on offer as the ever back-to-front Clawed Balls will testify. Such an occasion could not pass up the offer of a second dose of shiggy, and the well-bogged porthole through which Mudlark squeezed may offer another explanation as to her lack of a second shiggy coating. Kerb Crawler's "5 to 8" rallying cry confirmed that all of that had itself been squeezed into an hourglass of a trail, with ten past 8 being the time that Holy Trinity Church chose not to chime as we sped On In past Tithe Barn. Any Other Business?
ON ON ON: Keep up those mates rates! A hubble bubble hash with no trouble served up 2 full to the brim cauldrons of chilli of the omnivorous and herbivorous variety, complimented with what I believe to still be a culinary term of Perfect Rice and 5 loaves that did not need 2 fishes to finish the job.
AGPU: No need to mention 2020, 2021 and co - we simply had too much to pay tribute to! 58 Bogs trails adorned the tax year, with a sweet average attendance of 16 resulting in senior accountant Rocky Horror reporting that we are doing "not too badly" - such a track record meant that Fondue was quite welcome to take up the reins, particularly if pecan cakes and pavlova are tax-deductible. Scribing, sub-scribing, grand-mastering, RA and hash stats remain as you were, but many a plate was still to be stepped up to. Bumburner seemed an oddly appropriate name for a hare-raiser, Clawed Balls for hash habidashery likewise, and the latter electing Slapper as hash geek by phone merely kept up the AGPU cider-flow. 15 Eager Beaver hares cemented an iron grip on that tankard, Coppertone as new Beer Master no less with those bags, and Bag Lady with an appearing Brigadoon aspired to do just as much as dear Rebore did as Hash on Spec. Here's to us all aspiring to a communal ASS hash in Chard and a joint run with the lost souls of the Kennet and Avon hash in May; we've merely got the Greyhounds and Bristolians in December as a warmup...
Run 750, 3 November 2021.
WHERE:
The Railway Inn, Yatton.
HARES: Eager Beaver and Down & Dirty.
WHO: 28 hashers.
RUN REPORT: The hares promised a trail that would be short and sweet, and so it was. A lot drier than our last outing in Yatton, no mud, a crisp starry evening, and a pack raring to go on a route that took in parts of very old and very new Yatton, eventually leading us to a treat of sweet sticky buns at 7:50pm to celebrate the delayed run 750. (Well the front runners got there at 7:50pm, some others must have thought it was run 8:05). Then it was a short trek twisting over the bridge which used to go over the old Clevedon to Yatton railway line, and through the houses back to the Railway Inn by around 8:30.
CIRCLE and ON ON ON: Joined by some late arrivals who only turned up at the pub, our numbers filled a moderately busy Railway Inn as we thanked the hares, welcomed BOGS virgins Just Julie, Just Maggie and Little Sai Wanker, and returnees Frazer and Oliver Twist, and celebrated the last 3Bs to reach the Bun stop: Bumburner, Brigadoon and Ballsport.
Run 796, 27th October 2021.

WHERE:
The Dolphin, Uphill.
HARE: Brigadoon and 0.5 Cowslips.
WHO: 24 houndless hashers, including two juniors with the right sort of makeup.
RUN REPORT: The boy Briggy done good. After making sure nobody was warming up with a penguin dance at the upstream Ship Inn out of habit, we set off from Uphill's less bogged tavern with the instructions to look for "one black skull and you're on" at checkpoints, along with whatever other festivities our vampiric hare could throw at us. Quickly then we decided that it was a trick and treat in for us rather than an ASS-length trail (fears had been raised when Briggy said he'd spent all day setting it); helpfully among our number to ward off the evil spirits we had several hi-vis pumpkin impersonators. Those black skulls were tagged along by enough flour to not be rubbed out for a change, probably due to the surrounding ghost stickers who must have persuaded local populace that a ritual was taking place not to be disturbed. The only such permitted disturbance naturally fell on the shoulders of Super Mario and the Clawed Balls therein, catching up just in time for Cowslip to pass round gummy worms, spooky haribo and jelly babies (all Briggy's apparently) at a photo-op sweet stop in Jubilee Park. Venturing bravely hither onto the Bournville Estate, an open train crossing cut the pack neatly in two before a zigzag footbridge neatly sewed it back together again - not even a virgin though would think we were out of the woods yet. First the unlit industrial estate became the unlit suburbia, next the GWR felt like traffic behind us thanks to its proximity, and then a scramble up an embankment (one that I don't think Super Mario could manage easily, even with his ability to spring four times his height) preceded our venture into woodland seemingly tailor-made for BMX, but actually a hiding place for Frankenstein's monster, luminous skeletons, a coffin and even a Briggy! Well, we all needed a regroup with a glass of O positive after that, plus an uphill to above Uphill while trying to recruit a local en route. We had been promised a viewpoint at the start and so the lure of Uphill Way at a mere 8:30pm seemed too bad to be true - the nature reserve on the mount it was then as a green skeleton concurred. There were enough leaves underfoot to hide a few cadavers, and the ritual commenced at Uphill Beacon with a vociferous but not victorious wind, happily with no short cutters to report. The Dolphin at Downhill beckoned yonder at a much more respectable 8:45 - high flippers!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Bumburner joined in the non-festive festivities as we struggled in vain to find something to criticise about another Briggy Halloween Spectacular, eventually settling on "not enough cows!", even if there was plenty of evidence of their, ahem...occupation up by the beacon. As well as toasting the return of Drop 'Em and the scary junior makeup, there was Walky Talky's virgin acquaintance no-name-Toni and the facilitating of the new handle "Long John" thanks to the fancy dress showing more enthusiasm indoor than out. "Short and flat" was hilariously promised by Eager for next week's rewind to run 750, and this lengthy delayed number will be from the Railway Inn, how odd...
Run 795, 20 October 2021.
WHERE:
The Butchers Arms, Yatton.
HARES: Slapper and Clawed Balls.
WHO: 13.
RUN REPORT: The rain falling steadily Clawed Balls escorted us to make sure that we saw the flour and chalk that hadn't been washed away, and Slapper headed off to live Hare the second half of the trail (which also meant that she could get back to the pub first). Working our way, after a few false checks, to the Strawberry Line we soon came to another check point and KC declared that "it can't be this way, it's too muddy", only to discover that yes it was! Crossing fields and roads we ended up on top of Cadbury Hill, where Bum Burner kept saying he was going to make his own shortcut back, only to keep re-joining the pack as his shortcut didn't seem as short as the true trail. Slapper's artistic talents were displayed at a kissing gate - it's a shame that our muddy feet wiped out part of the romantic message - and then it was downhill to the walkers/runners split, after which Clawed telephoned in his food orders to make sure all was ready when we got back.
ON ON ON: Although we were inside now Backchat had to keep her coat on as she'd decided to sit beneath a leaky roof over the window, but other than that the pub was welcoming even though we may have disrupted some of the locals who were trying to watch a football match on TV, but they ended up asking about hashing. We just about managed to gather round one table for down downs for the Hares, and then it was a quick reminder from post hash arrivees Briggy and Ballsport that next Wednesday's hash from the Dolphin at Uphill is our Halloween Hash, so dress appropriately.
Run 793, October 6th 2021.
WHERE:
Proper Job Car Park, Worle, later a proper pub at the Lamb, across the road.
HARE: Fondue.
WHO: 17 houndless hashers, plus 3 visitors.
RUN REPORT: A proper job she made of the trail, too! An up and down premise may not have originally felt inspiring to a huffing and puffing Down and Dirty, but we surely had no choice but to honour Mudlark who had gone out setting the trail with Fondue but decided against being swallowed up by nettles twice in one day. With Brigadoon and Ballsport also pulling up just as the leading pack pulled away, there was thus plenty of opportunity for picking up BRBs on the ascent past local rival The Old Kings Head (one local bearing an uncanny resemblance to Rent Boy from Greyhounds even advised it was only three miles to go). A runner/walker split ambushed us much more effectively than any traffic present, ultimately resulting in a few checkpoints being solved by the likes of Backchat and Coppertone on the way up to Worlebury Golf Course. One fish hook for all runners was viewed inquisitively but only enthusiastically by one such walking scribe who quickly returned from not so afar with the confirmation that Brigadoon and Ballsport had caught us up with the runners! Good cause then to remember that we were hunting for much bigger game than merely fluorescent balls up here - at regroup 1 Fondue expanded her already haute cuisine repertoire with some leek and cheese lattices - they disappeared almost too quickly for Clawed Balls to complete his customary catch up, but one hardly lonely lattice remained as his reward. Huffers and puffers (I think that was all of us) were also thankful to be on the most Roman of straights that preceded a steep slope back to civilisation, complete with many a trip hazard and Inchworm low bridge. It lowered the gradient enough though for BRBs to make a hill out of a hump, but they were presently rewarded with the loyalty of a fish hook being done in a very Down and Dirty direction, up and down socially distanced steps, no less. This almost seemed worthy of the rest we caught while Inchworm took point (probably not quite with a machete) against the triffids that reared up on the most back of alleys. Sharp and to the point, the longer established Fondue fondant of pecan pies made an even briefer appearance than the lattices had; one local from Seabrook Road presumably came out to find out what "R" stands for under the guise of "Can I Help You?". We politely declined but they would certainly be partial to a future pecan pie if they found out for themselves. That was the last of many a highlight that adorns a Fondue trail as we ventured past the ex-Starchip Enterprise (now just called "Fish And Chips") to boldly go On In...
ON ON ON: In the process of locating Deep Throat, Red Light, a slightly hobbling Cinderella and a skittle alley with a cat flap for resident Darcy, we found the back benches in time for the committee to look ahead to run 750's 70 minutes of overdue fame plus 15 years of still not quite mastering the running problem over the drinking. Step forward the Star Inn at Tickenham next week then - always sure to rekindle our love of up and down, when it's not laying dormant!
Run 790, September 15th 2021.
WHERE:
The Phoenix, Portishead.
HARES: Inchworm and Coppertone.
WHO: 18 houndless hashers.
RUN REPORT: From the hashes ashes there rose this Phoenix trail, keen to supply its stomping grounds with all that has not recently been bogged. Custom for the outdoor burger van initially made us hopeful that up to 6 virgins were there for the trail, but nonetheless in high spirits the early checkpoints had practically all been parked on, and so the first test of our mettle was a runner/walker split along Brampton Way. Not only did this keep Bumburner in his customary hot pursuit, it also led to an underestimation of runners whom we thought were still gallivanting around that labyrinthian of greenbelts - Coppertone had even been motivated enough to head straight through the middle of the roundabout at Vale Park owing to checkpoints being seemingly a duty for walkers for now. Alas, there the running half of the pack were at a regroup alongside Vale Pond (including Ropey whose only rustiness was the lack of a searchlight in the twilight). Checking out each and every way from there led promptly to a recruitment drive from Bag Lady on the edge of the nature reserve, with one lonely dog walker only too keen to find out what all these bobbing head torches and flour blobs were. They may of course have already encountered Rewind who had already gone customarily off piste only to return in time for dried apricots and pastilles at a harbourside regroup - good health, GM DT style. Our customary zigzag over the marina lock (showing us its bottomless status at low tide) proved one adventure too far for Ropey though who used technology later on to report his wrong turning back in the direction of the high street - for Bumburner and Down and Dirty this wrong turn suddenly seemed like nothing of the sort when they were presented with the option of taking on yonder woods and Battery Point and so they were shipped off that way too. For surviving walkers the bright street lighting along Woodlands Road was nowhere near as helpful a beacon as a running Cinderella's "On On!" bellows from the trees above, with both speeds dovetailing perfectly in time for the visual highlight of Battery Point Lighthouse which may be more busy with marking our trails than navigating ships these days. Straight from visual to audio highlights - once back down the steps towards the marine lake, a coastal choir was in full voice to inadvertently cheer us on (it remains to be seen whether we were the visual highlight for them...) and of course to make sure we skirted the marine lake rather than hijack one of the swan pedalos on display. Left, right, left, right, up, down, up, down for On In it was then, at a still respectable 9pm for BRBs.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Good old times! Spaced out on the patio minus Ropey who blended return with quick departure, the shipped in food constituted Lemon Drizzle and Coffee cakes from Fondue as the burger van had shut up shop. The £20 ASS deposit was returned to Fondue as she had indeed behaved as exuberantly as the rest of us, while Bag Lady walked alongside flour at the same time as bemoaning its absence. For both the reward was easy-do-down-down flat lemonade, something surely not so mercifully provided at the Nailsea Micropub next week...
Run 788, September 4th, 2021.
WHERE:
Petruth Paddocks Campsite, Cheddar.
HARES: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 31 (ish).
RUN REPORT: The run was very long. This report is very short. Weather was very hot. We enjoyed it.
(PS: that's one word for every mile I did on the route.)
ON ON ON: Food from various takeaways at various times meant it was too dark and too late to do down downs other than to the Hare, so we sat around the fire pits listening to Cowslip's guitar playing and singing before heading to our tents to prepare for the next morning's Hash Olympics. On Sunday much merriment was had by all with Dongle and Sotware's assortment of Olympic sports, all of which seemed to be missing from the TV coverage of the Tokyo Olympics. At last a final circle to punish a few miscreants, remember Rebore, and give thanks to Briggy and Ballsport for arranging the weekend,
Run 787, September 3rd 2021.
WHERE:
Petruth Paddocks Campsite, Cheddar.
HARES: Brigadoon, Ballsport and Cowslip.
WHO: Approximately 25 hashers - hounds were warming up for the morrow.
RUN REPORT: All of that liaison with the RA to bring about such flawless ASS weather ultimately meant a piece of Friday evening live haring, and so off we set at a sharp 7pm in lukewarm pursuit of the yellow arrows rather than the blue and red which would bide their time for sending us much further afield. A helpful Friday Smiley Face symbol sent us under the old bridge via Old Bridge Lane and into the old way of exiting Petruth Paddocks via boisterous traffic in 2014 - thankfully just a quick dose of tarmac was needed here before heading up but not yet away; Bumburner deemed this warmup enough for the Saturday and retreated to find the red and blue symbols while still light, while many a Bog and non-Bog cast confused looks at the fish hooks for 6 and 10 (and maybe half a dozen of the other) that preceded the always welcoming West Mendip Way. If not steep enough for us to catch the hares in full swing, it was certainly enough of a gradient to necessitate a pick your own plum stop and then cut a swathe across the tall grass via which we dismounted the Mendip Challenge. Cue more fish hooks (no doubt tailor made to avoid too much symbol demonstration tomorrow, God bless you Briggy) and a sharp downhill to give us that Cheddar On In feeling when actually another ascent was on the cards - how Mature. To earn your Walky Talky photos, pizza and chips (garnished with chocolate fudge cake in my case) you had to conquer the cliff-top walk plus Jacob's ladder before it did likewise - the smiley faces reappeared on the way down just to make us think it was 10 metres (rather than 100) still to go. An On In (Really) symbol seemed quite the red carpet - an assurance that tomorrow's trail would not be such an Ascending and Descending tribute likewise...
ON ON ON: Back to basics and back to a crowded back room! The White Hart's status as Friday pub stop certainly did not disappoint as veggie, cheese and camouflaged pepperoni made their base appearance alongside a mountain of chips. This seemed as cosy as any camp fire and so the weekend's theme of Be Your Own Boss was set in motion with about 5 separate head torch pods thronging back to their tents, none thankfully at stupid o'clock as the bar was already dry enough...
Run 785, 25th August 2021.
WHERE:
The Angel, Long Ashton.
HARES: Cinders and Kerb Crawler.
WHO: 22 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Make that 28 if you include Long Ashton Running Club who thought they were welcoming new members at the same time as we thought we were welcoming virgins. Those who prioritise the drinking did nonetheless hit the ground running with a pub-side checkpoint, quickly thinning us out on the On Up into pods of 6 a la April-May. We were quickly digested by the vegetation that had been enjoying a growth spurt - it even swallowed up a viewpoint which we nonetheless stopped to appreciate, looking in vain for how much ground had been gained on the BRBs. For a head start was quite a necessity - guided only by the nearby roar of the B3128, many a near tumble proved as easy as hurdling over a log, supplemented by a regroup receiving the promotion to an even steeper ascent for the runners and a co-hare rounding up the walkers. Once Long Ashton Golf Club had been briefly trifled with (Rewind even ignoring the reassembled pack in favour of an extra extra loop), we resorted to our near-traditional crossing of Clarken Coombe (encountering another of those Long Ashton runners on the way - we never take our eye off our recruitment drive) in order to discover yesteryear's hash regulars. Come hither more uphill runners on the Ashton Court bikers' trail, miraculously wheel-free on this fine and dry evening, then a cracking out of the head torches as the foliage made everything a Trip Hazard (including Bryher who we even toyed with giving that as a handle). Hold the cider presses though - Cinderella fished a stuffed to the gunnels beer bag out of the bushes! Well, we couldn't help but hoki-coki in a still-2021-type of way to that...
CIRCLE: "Too flat", "not enough Long Ashton runners" were the expected accolades for the trail and the hares; not so the return of Rewind who was about as rusty as stainless steel. Any Dog'll Do is obviously liking these down downs enough to trip over on those runner/rambo routes, while Kerb Crawler kept her shoes spanking clean enough for us to brand them as new. In the absence of balloons we promptly completed our own fiesta back to base, head torches returning to standby mode in time for maybe the sun's last hoorah for 2021.
ON ON ON: The pub patio looked to return to 2019 levels of exuberance, perhaps inspiration for our imminent Cheddar shindig, though we also conquered one of the bars and the benches under cover. Two White Harts will follow next week at time of going to press, and neither has experienced Bogs since 2014 so keep that enthusiasm flowing...
Run 784, 18th August 2021.

WHERE:
The Swan, Rowberrow.
HARES: Clawed Balls and Slapper.
WHO: 20 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: This pub and its surroundings do love their sporadic revivals from Bogs hibernation, and both it seemed had had a makeover to suit our rising appetites what with that BYO ASS less than a month away now. A suitably disorderly On Out along School Lane in pursuit of pink chalk arrows revealed a conspicuous absence of JCBs and rubble in the valley below, instead taking in more rays of sunshine than the final scene from Babe - that'll do hare. Indiscretion at only having 2 out of 4 fish hookers seek out Brigadoon and his BRB brigade perhaps not so; these varmints may just have opted to punish themselves with the suitably long and unrelenting runner's route up to the hill fort on Dolebury Warren, coupled with a view of the walkers slogging it in much the same manner on their parallel approach. Once numbers and altitude had seemingly peaked, the chance for hash flash came thick and fast - first there was Walky Talky down-wind-and-hill, then there was Dressing Down whom even Bryher had left briefly behind in favour of Heading Up All Night, and then just as we entered reconnoitre mode there was Bumburner, staff and all, showing us what ulterior motives these viewpoints possess as he huffed and puffed up to complete the pack. Duly doped up on that dopamine, runners quickly found the inertia to complete a fish hook for all runners and then to briefly muse over an already kicked checkpoint - non-hasher vandalism was one theory, completion by walkers already was quite another, particularly with on in being another steeper and Rambo-esque slalom down to the back end of Churchill. Here a T1.5's decimal metamorphosed into an arrow across a field that Bogs have previously had a bone...nay...cattle horn to pick with when told to hash in a non-bovine direction. No mistaking who was boss tonight though, at least on that side of the A38. For back with the chalk an executive hares' decision came to the fore that cattle leading up to The Batch were to be skirted rather than tackled/harassed/ridden by runners. This even meant having to resist a DIY beer stop at the always cordial Crown Inn; Dutch courage would have fitted in almost as well as the head torches making their 2021 debut as the way back to walkers was not only twilit, but also quite a daunting descent ready to make down downs of anyone on unsure (or new!) footing. Much Ado About Not Much, thankfully - in fact none dared the lower case long cut towards Shipham either as declaring On In before the stars declared On Out was another conquest to add to tonight's already bulging collection...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: We opted for a circle of rectangular benches out in the car park as the best protection against our own pingdemic - those hares had certainly been on a mountain or two tonight, while Cinderella had merely come a slight cropper on a booby-trapped stile and Another Dog'll Do had found another shortcut to go with the On In variety. We left not knowing where to spot flour, chalk and parking next week, but going to press the Angel at Long Ashton has spread its wings again.
Run 783, 11 August 2021.
WHERE:
Old Manor House, Kew Stoke.
HARE: Eager Beaver and Down & Dirty.
WHO: 19 hashers.
RUN REPORT: The first challenge was to turn up at the pub, whose postcode sends your SatNav to a dead end street in the middle of a housing estate, however with Eager's help standing around on street corners we all got to the start OK. Making use of practically every footpath between the houses of Kew Stoke we reached open countryside and for about 20 yards followed the route of the old Weston, Clevedon and Portishead Light Railway - although as it closed around 80 years ago there was no sight of any trains, or railway track - before circumnavigating a field of sweetcorn, and then quite a few fields of long grass, clover, nettles, and other vegetation which make spotting flour a bit of a test, but we managed!
Soon we were back amongst houses again and the pub was in sight - oops wrong pub, that was the Ebdon Arms - and after a quick debate the front runners decided not to stop for a quicky, instead opting for following the route amongst all of the remaining footpaths in Kew Stoke, before running in past the houses that the pub postcode would have sent you, along yet another footpath back to the (correct) pub carpark. ON ON: The route was declared too hilly, Peeping Tom honoured for doing more checking out the wrong direction than there were checkpoints, and Banksy welcomed back, having flown in from Berlin just for the occasion (or maybe also to see her grandparents Baglady and Coppertone). A BOGS Whats App group was agreed for use for BOGS hashing related messages, and next week's hash location was noted to be "not 100% sure yet, waiting for the Hares to finalise, so keep an eye out on the website over coming days".
Run 782, 7th August 2021.
WHERE:
Casa de Bag Lady y Coppertone, Portishead.
HARES: Coppertone and Inchworm.
WHO: 14 hashers, 3 junior hashers, 1 hound and 7 visitors - smorgasbord!
RUN REPORT: Nothing brings out a damp squib to rein in more than a coastal hash BBQ - those deemed brave/mad enough to take on the weather had the regular vantage point of seeing it coming over the Severn, reassured at least that if the flour could survive under some vegetation, we would be able to as well. The immediate On Down towards the tried and just about trusted coastal path resulted in many a slip plus letting junior Darcy off the lead, albeit never where traffic would go - just a bit of enthusiasm in checking every trail. Some even saw fit to check out runner and walker trails with disintegrated blue chalk as we negotiated a convoluted way down to Black Nore Lighthouse for a regroup, upon which the real battering and bruising at sea level began. FRBs even took to the lee side of the structures present for a little shelter, while Down and Dirty tasted the reality of being leader of the pack turned instantly into BRB. Inevitably then we took on a Clevedonian theme with a soggy slog up through the zigzag path (perhaps even more intestinal in nature than Clevedon's namesake), emerging to what turned out to be a final flurry from the elements feeling sorry for our sheltered barbie girls and boys. Pace-setters radioed in via Marconi Road and co, whereas bedraggled BRB X 2 opted for Roman straightforwardness in their pursuit of the On Out checkpoint. Duly kicked and splashed, it was time to spit roast ourselves dry...
CIRCLE: Oh so much to eat to! Returnees included Houdini turning up for more barbecues than hashes in the last few weeks, plus Woodcut, Cheers Drive and Faceplant who has duly shot up a few feet. All those downhill slippers and trail absentees were only too quick to pick themselves up for a Thatcher's Gold down down, along with Bag Lady and Coppertone for 50 years of no doubt co-hosting to the same standard as today. Good luck with the next 50 as well, by then Bogs may just have set the odd intergalactic trail.
ON ON ON: Trusting nothing to chance with that unsteady sky, we opted for grill, stuff, rinse, repeat with Pavlova and 24 Carrot Cake under a gazebo or 2. The weather though even found enough of a break in it for junior and hasher skittles to make a return. Let's just say it came down to a penalty shoot-out with Eager representing England and Down & Dirty representing Italy...
Run 781, 4 August 2021.
WHERE:
Uppy and Downy's, Clevedon.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 19 hashers.
RUN REPORT: After sending the runners and walkers in concentric circles we soon were very close to the start again. Could this be a record short hash? No, after by passing Clevedon School Eager had us going along Norton Woods Lane feeling as if we were half way towards the Black Horse before we started heading up, and up, and up, into Clevedon Court Woods where a welcome sweety stop gave a chance for the last of the pack to complete the ascent. Another viewpoint looking over the Gordan Valley and then it was all downhill ( a bit too quickly downhill for Dressing Down when the mighty Bryher pulled too hard on her lead) to the welcome sight of Up All Night tending the glowing BBQ coals awaiting our sausages.
ON ON: Joined by Flour Power and Alan, Houdini and John and Wet Wipe, who all decided that doing a hash first was only optional if a BBQ was involved, we welcomed 3 virgins, Amanda, Rebecca and Paul in the traditional way, celebrated a few of the misdemeanours and tucked into our food.
Run 780, 28th July 2021.
WHERE:
The Crown Inn, Churchill.
HARES: Software and Dongle.
WHO: 26 hashers and 4 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Heatwave, schmeatwave. With the weather more changeable than overseas travel advice, the numbers just kept on rolling into the Crown's cute little car park in time for a co-harent warning of long marches ahead of shiggy and similar sounding drivers in these parts. Quickly assuming the On Up, several walkers gave Uppy, Downy and Down & Dirty the opportunity to catch up with an impromptu raid on the batch campsite before instead spotting flour that, contrary to Dongle's pessimism, had survived the earlier monsoons thanks to double setting standards. What goes up must head down through The Batch farmyard shiggy to The Star at Star for what has proved too tempting a beer stop in the past, but we decided that there was enough Dutch courage to go round already in pursuit of campers that even managed to outnumber us above that good old chestnut, Mendip Snowsport Centre. Enough then to send the BRBs (Down and Dirty had by now walked herself into the ground in between glances in a Crook Peak direction) right for an early round of disc golf without the golf but with a step ladder and petrol dodging thrown into the bargain. By the time one of infinite slippery and shiggy downhills were chosen back down to tarmac, the pack were already starting to line up those down downs and so a consensus of no more uphill was reached. On In for a select committee then along Hillier's Lane and Front Street (with the bonus of a photo-op for Dressing Down by the clock tower) to be greeted by those who had shown petrol who is boss. Talking of rivalry, the rookie hound Bryher completed another near-full trail in view of veteran Mudlark who had nonetheless conquered all those ups and downs. "You'll still go far, kid" she yapped.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Briggy and Ballsport braved the great indoors prior to a circle with much to report - co-hare navigational difficulties led to a brief handle revamp of Softwhere-am-I, followed by Rocky not quite yet calling in the bailiffs over the odd missing £, and welcomes to Bogs virgins Any Dog'll Do and local guy Ian senior. Bosom Boy and Drambulie promised to spread our fame in transit to Minehead all the way from Brighton; change the weather sufficiently for the upcoming BBQs and we might just promote you both to RAs...
Run 779, 21st July 2021.
WHERE:
The Rudgleigh Restaurant (not Inn!), Easton-in-Gordano.
HARE: Rocky Horror.
WHO: 17 hashers and 0 hot dogs.
RUN REPORT: Much later than the 11th hour and it looked like only the scribe and hare were out to be spit roasted in this 2018 heatwave imitation, but then came a steady flow of stalwarts including Bumbag for her 2021 debut and the return of the legendary Backchat!! Motivated to provide for all, Rocky advised of the option to turn back to the Rudgleigh at one point plus a water break which we need a lot more than those multi-millionaire VAR enforcers. Bumburner proved a worthy substitute for Clawed Balls (the latter on time) for the customary game of catchup, with the partial destruction of a checkpoint ensuring that he caught up while we searched for an arrow that WAS there. By now we tweaked that short cut opportunity number 1 was to merely retire with bottled H2O at the Rudgleigh (Ropey senior was manning the fort to, well, learn the ropes of On On On) at the 7:45 mark; none could resist the march through very tall grass that beckoned after an A369 charge. Ropey provided the handy link between BRBs and hare just in time for a steep ascent, normally into the face of bikers but they obviously didn't want their tyres to melt! Backchat was duly chatting but still nowhere near the rear - this was suitably occupied for the most part by two Bums (Burner and Bag) for most of the trail, including a speed split where the runners merely completed a home run of the commons off of Common Lane. We were not quite done with the ascents, either - that punch bowl imitator beneath St Bartholomew's Church in Lower Failand was garnished with a herd or 3 of brown cows who had no tree to shelter with, so they opted instead to lie down in a vain attempt to cast their precipitation spell - let's hope it doesn't work for the BYOB&B BBQs we have coming up. Back with tarmac, a fish hook for whatever number seemed democratic turned out to be one for 4, and then came the double dose of welcome with shade on the Gordano Round and a short cut symbol which ended up spitting us out directly opposite the Rudgleigh. Now, what headlines could match that of a hashers' splash and dash in Clevedon Marine Lake preceding its contamination?!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Out on the back benches again, we praised the supposedly unheard of truths from Rocky who had promised of the need for short cuts and water. Tash shall henceforth be known as "Slapper" for treating an insect and fellow hasher the same way with one such fell swoop, then came another down down for sitting with Clawed Balls and Ian on an uphill bench which the latter also may have vandlaised somewhat - it's almost as if extra drinks were an ulterior motive for this evening. To prove not, Ropey insisted his footwear was not brand new (it would have fitted two pint glasses worth!) - to prove it WAS, the shape of the trail resembled a hasher doing the opposite of taking one of tonight's water breaks. Now here's a challenge for Dongle and Software next week - a trail from the Crown at Churchill in the shape of a tiara-bedecked nodding Churchill dog...
Run 778, 14th July 2021.
WHERE:
The Butcher's Arms, Yatton.
HARE: Bumburner.
WHO: 20 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: There were plenty of flaming arrows from a clarity loving hare on an evening when it wasn't just Cadbury's chocolate that was in danger of melting. Circling up provided the great discovery of the Butcher's wide open garden with benches and outdoor ordering, before conveniently remembering that we had a running problem to attend to. Parking paradoxes meant that evasive action was needed to avoid a head on collision with Bag Lady and Fondue at On Out, then came plenty of doubling back on the back doubles prior to agreeing which arrows were for us and which for the other essential workers. All roads led to an uphill dead end courtesy of Marco Pierre White and Cadbury House; whether we have previously feared venturing up here due to our drinking club reputation or simply through not knowing of any footpath exit, tonight was the night for serendipity. First we were greeted by a hare with the diplomatic immunity needed to shortcut, then we gathered around a cow that was neither silly, old or organic (Bryher braving the rodeo position on top and Ropey adopting the milkmaid one), and then the fountain penned a way onwards to the hilltop hikes around Cadbury's hill fort: nature reserve hybrid. For runners one had to avoid the spring back of branches by FRBs ahead, for walkers though there were not only checkpoints to complete ahead of those caught in their own DIY loop, plus avoiding the temptation of distant On Ons and viewpoints in favour of the floury rather than chalky part of the trail. Standards had already soared sufficiently that we were never likely to suspect a splicing of on out with on in, and so it proved as the dirt track opposite another Cadbury creation beckoned. Remaining highlights included Mudlark and Bryher avoiding the lure of classical music being played to a neighbouring set of kennels, BRBs zigzagging Mendip Road due to an arrow pointing to another arrow and a nicely timed 8:30 ringing out from St Mary's Church.
CIRCLE &ON ON ON: Our presence on the Butcher's back benches (5 bogs apiece) seemed appropriate enough an excuse to bring up Boris Johnson - this was a suggestion for the handle of Tim who had at one point whispered to Kerb Crawler "come with me and look at this..."; fearing a rebellion though we opted instead for a "Peeping Tom" christening which appeared to promptly empty the garden of all non hashers. Well done too to Bumburner for sticking with his arrow theme (quite essential when storming a fort). On on with Rocky and no post-19th July Horror next week!
Run 777, 7th July 2021.

WHERE:
The Salthouse, Clevedon.
HARE: Rewind.
WHO: 18 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Everything can happen on a Rewind trail, and anyone can turn up as well! An exceedingly welcome return was bid to Flour Power at the warmup among souls desperate to escape televised sport in the best bogging way one could. She opted to complete the best part of a roundabout trail, namely Poet's Walk with a graveyard dog leg thrown into the mix. As many a viewpoint began to rise up out of the trail, as many as 5 BRBs opted to bypass first that and then the safe-ish and rocky path down to Clevedon Pill in favour of the safe tarmac one. Before the ornithologist in us could emerge properly, Marshalls Field proved too great a lure, particularly as the tranquil Land Yeo also beckoned immediately afterwards. Keeping to the theme of classic hashers and knocking on the door of Walrus and Call Girl was tempting at this stage, but they may well have done the well sustained trail by now anyway and so the flour kicking stretched all the way unaccompanied to Strode Road. Although Briggy and Ballsport kept up the pace pretty darn well, the absence of Dressing Down, Up All Night and Bryher only now registered - that regroup though got a little impatient and pointed us abruptly on into the hazard of a roaring television set outside the rugby club, presumably not watching said sport. The town centre had a similar "eye of the storm" quietude to it as our numbers dipped further to 12 thanks to Briggy and Ballsport's shortcut past the Curzon - they missed the hill which preceded first an 8-limbed tree in the grounds of the community centre, and then another appearance of Deep Throat and Red Light out for this unusual phenomenon known as a "walk". Well that walk just happened to point the pack in the correct direction along Princes Road rather than the Dial Hill direction they were gallivanting towards, and it was just in time too for many photo ops along the promenade, with the sunset bleeding away enough to illuminate our On In with that no less traditional long cut around the bandstand flower beds. Any hasher worth their Salthouse can testify...
ON ON ON: Shelter from roaring sporting crowds was a sad scribe necessity but we still saw Dressing Down and co completing the trail before a patio assembly took place. From the oft-bogged to the sporadic at the Butcher's Arms next week, where we will only need to shelter from those on a grass court.
Run 776, 30th June 2021.
WHERE:
Roath Road Car Park, Portishead, later The Poacher alongside.
HARES: Walky Talky and Kerb Crawler.
WHO: 16 hashers, 1 hound and 2 visitors.
RUN REPORT: Warm, humid and shrubbery! June said goodbye to Bogs with a tight embrace interspersed with a steep ascent to hash boot - behold encouragement of the 20/21 chalk variety to help us reach the dizzy heights of a photo-op alongside High Down Junior School. Clawed Balls had roped Double D and Zider into his customary quick game of catchup, the irony of the pose being the sign that advised parents not to use electronic devices on school premises. A few, including the encouraging full debut of solo hound Bryher, wanted to deny that we were entering Weston Big Wood via our usual exit - they quickly found motivation though in the form of a long speed split through the shelter and a conquest of the downhill steps that Dressing Down had previously pinpointed as Bryher's Achilles' Paw. A few checkpoints still required navigation (after all they recently stopped being their more generous "1 and on" type) prior to reaching tarmac again; testimony to the dizzy heights of our altitude and pace were the lack of any bells from St Peter's Church for On In - if you wanted to be out till 9 you would instead have to enter the On Out/On In time warp on offer. No chance when spaced out benches of were on offer.
ON ON ON: Out in our sixes and fours and with electronic ordering from the Poacher as well laid out as the flour, Deep Throat and Red Light popped up to continue their visiting limber ups ahead of next week's hash and splash from the Salthouse. Let's Fast Forward to that Rewind relic...
 
Dedicated to Rebore.
 

Run 775, 23 June 2021.
WHERE:
The Crabapple, Clevedon.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 20 (?) hashers.
RUN REPORT: Well, I'm sure that 20 of us started but not all did the entire route, with Bum Burner heading homeward not too far into the hash, and Dressing Down and Bryher managing to lose the trail at one point - although they found their way back to the pub.
For the rest of the pack, crossing the Blind Yeo, we soon headed past Warrens Holiday Village and then south across fields that will look a bit different in a few months when the maize, or was it sweetcorn, grows from its current 3 inches to 6ft plus.
Once we reached Lower Strode Road we were headed back towards Clevedon and, at one stage the runners route got almost within smelling distance of the pub before the trail guided us back to meet up with the walkers. A final dash towards the centre of town, and another Walkers/Runners split - which the Hare assured us was only an extra 3 metres for the runners (although maybe the Hare needs to brush up on Pythagoras' theorem re that calculation) - before we were finally Crab Apple direction bound.
ON ON: true to form the RA ensured that it didn't rain on the route, however it did start to rain almost immediately as we arrived back at the pub, but not enough to deter us from sitting outside for a drink, although a few decided to hide indoors and miss the down downs taking place outside. As well as thanking the hare, we welcomed Bogs virgin, "Just Tim" and virgin hash hound Bryher (who did the hash accompanied by Dressing Down)
Run 774, 16th June 2021.
WHERE:
The Grove Sports Centre, Nailsea.
HARES: Double D and Zider.
WHO: 16 hashers, 1 hound and 1 visitor.
RUN REPORT: A hash with many manifestations of nature's fury. Save a tiny sprinkling at On On On, the sky merely threatened rather than going all Bank Holiday for most of this lush green and brown trail. Ire instead came from fauna and flora even if we were all present and semi-accounted for by touchdown - the common vegetation at On Out had experienced exponential growth and thus turned the merest of checkpoints into a military training exercise, all merely in training for the perils ahead. Rocky Horror had bravely taken point only to fall foul twice of an aerial bombardment of claws - thankfully all this hashing has not made him light enough to constitute prey, though none would deny that all our feathers had been ruffled. It was reassuring then to merely encounter humans en route to an Open Rail Crossing that Rocky himself had introduced us to yester-yesteryear, taking a few moments also to absorb the equally docile wildlife of Nailsea Ponds yonder. All seemed well too when traipsing towards Backwell in the next field, only for the hares to call out checkpoint vandalism and send us left for a spot of getting between cows, a bull and their young. Were this a red dress run...it wouldn't have made any difference as that's an old myth and they seemed happy to have merely stepped in the flour circle anyway. Rewind had however seen fit to do his own distant trailblazing towards a few delightfully returning symbols - first a fish hook for 4 which Zider decided she loved the trail enough to do her own, and then a runner/walker split preceding a playground regroup. On On via a few labyrinthian lanes we were hardly surprised to see Rewind continue his solo theme ahead past Backwell Lake, even if it meant editing the highlight reel - the long-necked populace stepped aside for us only after a little persuasion, then the Sweet Stop bounced back into contention with eclairs and drumsticks (decide for yourself which sort). A hazard much more noteworthy than any shiggy though appeared here, though - a succession of frogs crossing the footpath; were it not for their lack of dazzling colour we could have mistook them for an invasion of the poison dart variety, what with their tadpole dimensions. Satisfied that we had not incurred any more wrath, the up and over took us past another fish hook tailor made for an exuberant co-hare, along with a brief short cut around traffic and back to the On Out/In hybrid which had also been specially tailored and thankfully not vandalised in the precise 90 minutes we had been out for. A hovering chinook made us briefly wonder if Rewind had been up to no good, but there he appeared again at the finishing line and so it was clearly just another aerial threat for Rocky to stew over...
ON ON ON: The last 15 months have changed precisely none of the Grove's hospitality towards us Bogs, what with a complimentary Ploughman's apiece being further complimented by plain and spicy chicken wings and spaced out benches on the patio. It felt good to socially distance both ourselves and the visiting Fast Forward from the other type of white powder being done on the other side of the field; let's stick to plain at the blast from the past Crab Apple next week.
Run 773, 9th June 2021. "The Blurry Hash."

WHERE:
The Railway Inn, Sandford.
HARES: Clawed Balls and Tash.
WHO: 15 hashers, 3 hounds and 3 visitors, one of them canine.
RUN REPORT: A most welcome and encouraging addition to the haring contingent among us from Clawed Balls, so used to playing catchup that Tash was sent ahead to do a little live haring. The Strawberry Line was every bit as welcoming as on our previous visits here from afar, though checkpoint checking out inevitably led to prioritising of avoiding traffic over social distancing. It was indeed a tight fit through one concealed footpath early on, spurred on by some resident docile equines who nonetheless set about making some stile hops just as narrow. The spacing out worked a treat at this stage as Clawed delighted in the walkers ending up doing a little checking out on the approach to Churchill - a theme that unwittingly continued as attributed to a small live hare error. For on one such shiggy backdrop the R and W referred to a junction slightly further ahead than Clawed had recced, and so a few On Backs were screamed - perhaps thudding on the ground would be more in the spirit of a newbie hare (Leveret, anyone?). Walkers decided we were disjointed enough already and thus obeyed the triangles over the ever predatory A38 and uphill towards Mendip Sports Centre (officially a snowsport centre; dream on as this isn't 1974) - this sent Down & Dirty's internal thermometer into hyperdrive and wishing forlornly for rain that never threatened, what with Cirrus and Contrail predominating the skyline over Cumulonimbus. There was however the opportunity to stop at the foot of the Disc Golf hill for individually packaged plain and tangy Haribo, accustoming ourselves to chalk crosses over falses in the process. Once runners had reappeared no doubt with a little checking out of their own, the degrees both mercury and gradient continued to climb with us to base camp, where a hound and Zider dip was waiting alongside the step ladder to the trail's peak. 2021's third longest Wednesday-light made the most of its position to send runners and walkers on a well lit and marked circumnavigation apiece in pursuit of their quarry, touching down just off target of the Strawberry Line again via the suitably straightforward Roman Road. Brewery, anyone?
ON ON ON: Dressing Down, Up All Night and Bryher continued their amiable June 2021 tradition of popping up for an after-running-problem drink - alcohol-free cider, no less. Outside of Railway Inn's softly-softly new opening hours we commandeered the round tables and down-downed Down & Dirty for many a hop, trip but zero bumps that come with an actual fall. Makes you want to brave the great indoors next week at the Grove Sports Centre, at least for keeping up your drinking club reputation...
Run 772, 2nd June 2021.
WHERE:
The Jubilee Inn, Flax Bourton.
HARES: Kerb Crawler and Cinderella.
WHO: Come what may - 13 hashers, 2 hounds, 2 finish liners, 2 visitors and 1 visiting hound.
RUN REPORT: A remarkably June-like week had still threatened to unleash a thunderstorm sandwich specially for this Wednesday, though thankfully it resolved to merely soak the setting hares who preceded proceedings with prophecies of many an electrified cow plus an undergrowth trail which was rebounding much faster than the economy. A little ducking and diving among two and four wheels set the tone sufficiently for Clawed Balls to play his customarily quick game of catchup, even reviving the premature calling of On On for those wanting to take the even road towards Gatcombe Farm Shop - tantalising though 'twere, the greenery below Ashton Hill Plantation instead beckoned along with a peep hole of a kissing gate so that nobody could claim they didn't see the cows coming. Either our reputation preceded us or the track had not just been chewed up by cloven feet, for the herd's behaviour bordered on obsequious in calmly parting for us, even if they had some young 'uns to take care of. Bringing up the rear, not even Down and Dirty or Coppertone could bear witness to even a snort of complaint from the politest of herds - duly touched, a less negotiable post-regroup natural hazard comprised the sheltered uphill through the plantation, even if it came with the promise of wannabe sequoias at the most aptly named Big Tree Grove afterwards. Instead, 23% of the current pack opted for the level while sharing out their drinks and Marti mushrooms (panic not, they weren't magic) - clearly the sight of us rounding the corner for a rendezvous distracted Bag Lady sufficiently to wander off the unbeaten track she was meant to follow - no motivation was lost though as she duly went up and back down the right way after some co-hare-brained instructions. Cohesion thereafter became a little scattergun though as walkers again opted for their own On On while those braving a triffid trail included Rocky Horror who took a tumble into some nettles (I bear witness to only his pride being damaged, so no need to change that handle) plus a returning Rewind being hurried along first by the babbling Land Yeo and then by petrol behind - places to step aside were in short supply. All were present and accounted for plus interest once the On In made its second appearance - Deep Throat and Red Light had hashed their way out to the closing stages and back again, even if the undergrowth had enveloped the runners sufficiently for the metaphorical chequered flag to somehow end up in Rebore's hands - nothing really boring about that, especially with a customary 90 minute finish time.
ON ON ON: With Rewind departing on the same rapid two wheels from whence he came, outdoor patio numbers were further swelled by Dressing Down, Up All Night and newbie hound Bryher who definitely appears keen to carry on the friendly legacy of Woodbine. Other highlights included veteran quadruped Mudlark metamorphosing into a Baked Alaska again (sadly not just courtesy of mud), a Rocky down down as if he hadn't been down and out enough times tonight and Deep Throat customising a hankie into a face mask for his indoor visit. The multiple made-over Railway Inn at Sandford beckons next week - there's nothing like a trail alongside the Thatcher's Cider Farm to make the hashers flow...
Run 771, 26th May 2021.

WHERE:
Captain's Cabin, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Fondue and an invisible but welcome returnee Bendy.
WHO: 12 hashers, 1 hound and 2 Birnbeck Pier caretakers.
RUN REPORT: The trail contents plus the handle of the co-hare made for a chalk and cheese trail on a second consecutive sunny Bogs evening in amongst a May wet enough to be one long bank holiday. Getting above the clouds thus was not a pre-requisite, though the steep banks leading up to the hill fort in Weston Woods certainly made it feel that way. No VD stop to admire en route this time; instead we kept an eye out for enough pink and blue arrows on the vegetation for it to possibly be a gender reveal party - enough interest raised then for a huffing and puffing Brigadoon to resist the urge to roll back downhill and test the loyalty of a few FRBs. They answered in the affirmative after encountering a fish hook adorned with an A - be it "all" or "absolutely", 4 of them did their duty and kept in touch with the master of the ASS. Reward soon emerged after the downhill traipse to civilisation - another chalk message but this time a non-hasher thanking everyone for raising dementia awareness funds - 14800 people who marched up and down again, no less. Duly touched, somebody had misspelt Banksy on a wagon alongside and Briggy and Ballsport decided now was the time for a shortcut back to petrol after all. I opted for a mad hash and dash back to find a waiting regroup in Grove Park and plenty of highlights still to follow for those dreaming of On In. First there was a checkpoint which sent us down the unlikeliest of back alleys, then the runners constructed their own labyrinth to reach Knightstone Island, and finally mother nature had a few words to say. At a ferociously high tide, our traditional conquer of the marine lake causeway was at least half a hasher underwater (3 if you were an out-of-retirement Mudlark), so instead the promenade stepped in and us landlubbers narrowly avoided being turned to jetsam. Birnbeck Ahoy!
ON ON ON: Coppertone and Down & Dirty had come to admire the spirit alone, not just of the trail but also the venture back inside the Captain's Cabin on one side of the bar. Masks/bandanas off, an even braver sharing of Fondue's outside pecan pies made for tonight's umpteenth welcome return - let's celebrate with a due drop in to the Jubilee next week.
Run 770, 19th May 2021.
WHERE:
Lye Cross Farm Shop, Redhill, North Somerset.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
Run 769, May 12th 2021.
WHERE:
The Nova Scotia, Bristol.
HARE: Rebore.
WHO: 19 bedraggled hashers, one for whom the weather was like water off a dog's back.
RUN REPORT: Those who decided not to brave the inclement weather from the Nova Scotia pub should see the Canadian province. While searching here and there for bus stop and greenbelt shelter from the wide open heavens, a number of Cliftonian nooks and crannies, possibly un-bogged, opened up invitingly to send us skipping on the edge of an ever-the-rush-hour Hotwell Road; nobody dared dice with checkpoint death and instead quickly opted for the 0.95-in-1 ascent to the Gorgeous area of Clifton. For a trailblazing Down and Dirty, entrusting Brunel's brainchild to her ongoing hash was one trail too many and thus DIY On Ons were sought on the same side of the Avon, along with Bumburner's eyes, ears and staff. Those who trod tarmac which trod thin air got into a typical pod debate as to the right way on - rumour even circulated from hearsay that Rebore would be sending us back over the bridge while observing both one way systems later. Eventually though an arrow as clear as chalk on a pavement was found in time to take in the views of the observatory opposite, plus the long and steady downhill through a portion of Leigh Woods to the Avon-side. Curiously, joggers appeared to have completed their catchup just on the approach to the woods, only to promptly vanish again presumably owing to either checkpoint deluge or the hasher of all runners' routes, no doubt needing to dodge a few two-wheelers en route. Trusting to sight of the distant pub rather than checkpoint nous proved the popular decision for On In, culminating in a duck and dive under the Cumberland basin and a somewhat less visually spectacular bridge over the Avon to the pub, where the joggers finally completed their catchup in time for (drumroll) outdoor pub grub!
ON ON ON: An extensive menu for hares and drowned rats was just as welcome a sight as the umbrellas they mingled under in settlements rather than households. No amount of RA will be able to shield from any rain at Lye Cross farm shop next week, just when we plan to become one unite the pods as one as well. Thankfully they will not need to shield us from any "ger orf moi car park" remarks either.
Run 768, 5th May 2021.

WHERE:
Goblin Coombe, Cleeve.
HARE: Eager Beaver and Down & Dirty.
WHO: 15 hashers.
RUN REPORT by Cinders: From Goblin Coombe we gallivanted through the grassy grazing field of Cleeve Court before passing the gone forever Lord Nelson pub and then getting a glance at the Tannery Bar in Claverham. A few lanes and fields took us up to the (currently closed) Star on the Roddy before heading up into Kings Wood- which resembled the Bluebell Hash Part 2 in sections. The final descent towards the start took us past the slippery rock where Rocky gained his name a few years back, and where Penny disclosed that she had a fear of cows, especially those with very long pointy horns, so to help her get over her fear Double D and Zider I took her through the field 3 times in the search for the true trail.
ON ON: A pleasantly warm evening car park led to a casually long down down, much to the frustration of the courting couple in their car, who even left their engine running for the first half hour in a futile attempt to encourage us to leave them in peace to do whatever they had planned in this remote car park.
Run 767, 28th April 2021.
WHERE:
The Downs Prep School car park, Wraxall.
HARES: Bag Lady, Coppertone and an administrative Inchworm.
WHO: 17 hashers and 1 Scrumpy hound.
RUN REPORT: Not content with displaying a Thank You NHS lawn message for Google Earth to capture, the Downs School rolled out a red carpet of a car park for these hashing whippersnappers to enjoy their annual-apart-from-2020 bluebell run, with the eponymous posies tempted to pose for us thanks to a long overdue watering down. A somewhat lonely 6:50 pod made their own fun and games of finding the dissipated flour across to Prior's Wood, followed swiftly by trying not to give the trail away to the magnificent 7s who lingered in the foliage below. Bag Lady's beacon for remembering the trail consisted of a bridge harbouring no trolls but nonetheless guarded by the welcome return of a runner/walker split immediately prior; this would explain the trailblazers' most dogged pursuers turning out to be a pair of non-hashers inevitably wondering what type of white stuff it was we were putting down. We had been promised garlic stops as well as bluebell stops, though Bag Lady only stopped to trim and consume the former to aid the trail's circulation. Only on the up-level-up did the runners start to appear in their droves, curiosity abound thanks to all those plastic signs advising us to keep to the footpaths for nature's sake. Mutual appreciation did however come to the fore with a viewpoint laid in white and lavender, and it would be wrong to suspect foul play when a checkpoint was discovered with a twig alongside it pointing the wrong way - instead it was surely just divine intervention to make us hash each and every way. A return to the car park totalled 1 hour and 20 minutes for walkers versus 1 hour and 30 minutes to set the trail - none too shabby or shiggy.
ON ON ON: Plenty of fresh air afterwards to help complete the highlight reel - a welcome return to Houdini, Double D and Zider, Bumburner practically setting up base camp in the middle of the circle and Bag Lady & Coppertone sharing the down down source like households (but probably not bubbles) do. A drumroll went the way of Clawed Balls who had started at 7:35, though 8pm starter Rewind may still be out there taking in his own garlicky bluebells as I type. No less spacious an On On On is assured for Goblin Combe next week - just think Lord Nelson with a running problem...
Run 766, 21st April 2021.
WHERE:
The George Inn, Abbots Leigh.
HARE: Rocky.
WHO: 19 hashers.
RUN REPORT (written by Cinders): Rocky's route took us on a jolly jaunt of approaching five miles past Abbotts Pool and through 50 Acre Wood, nearly reaching Failand before skirting Wraxall piece woods and the start of the return journey. Unfortunately phone signal is this area is very poor, as both Clare and Eager found - Eager when trying to contact Down & Dirty, who was the first to start the hash as a pod of 1, and Clare, who was the last to start the hash, also by herself, needed to get some directional clues after not seeing the pink chalk which replaced flour at one stage. With Down & Dirty caught up with, and hero hare Rocky running back to find Clare, all made it back to the pub, where the busy beer garden was open.
ON ON: Unfortunately the pub garden was a bit too busy and only a dozen or so hardy hashers braved the 20+ minute wait for service and the rapidly reducing temperature, but eventually beer came, and a quietish and distanced down down was sung to the hare.
Run 765, 14th April 2021.
WHERE:
Casa de Bumburner y Shade Hunter, Old Park Road, Clevedon.
HARE: Bumburner, announced as knackered already on 6:50 pod's arrival.
WHO: 18 houndless hashers and 2 visitors.
RUN REPORT: Well, what goes down...The numbers certainly hadn't as the pods began to sprout in pursuit of first pink and later blue arrows, not that this hash had a gender to reveal. Instead on the first of many downhills the 1900s happened upon a runner/walker split from the briefing, with the apparent consensus now being for earlier pods to always keep at least one foot on the ground - the prospect of the socially not-so-distant On On along Wellington Terrace was what reined in the scribe, not peer pressure. After a little zigzagging in the direction of the few open Hill Road outlets, the wannabe trailblazer Down & Dirty was promptly and metaphorically tagged and regaled us with stories of Rocky Horror being encountered en route to Dial Hill's viewpoint - already parked up and searching for a bigger challenge to reach the hare's abode for later start. Bollard warmers appeared to make us feel that extra bit cosy on Hill Road, though Herbert & Alexandra Gardens still felt a little close to non-hashers for comfort, serving instead to rouse Deep Throat and Red Light to join us later as we hashed merrily by. Down & Dirty had by now maybe felt (but never regretted) the additional recce that took place 6 hours previously and thus a short cut or three started to materialise as we took in the slipway views beneath a bleeding sun. One of these meant missing the smiley face checkpoint in Pier Copse, and the up-down theme even started to spread rumours of an ascent of the distant Poet's Walk being on the cards. Alas, only potentially if you did a Usain Bolt hash - walkers instead took in a little more woodland within the grounds of the Community Centre, their tail-end ensnaring the runners alongside the bowling green and trusting to intuition the right On In being the steepest and shortest. Success in one way - if you wanted to take in all the flour and chalk then the peak of Dial Hill was not something to socially distance yourself from, so all hashed out was the offered excuse instead.
ON ON ON: Each pod had warmed up with their own demo of the one way garden, swelled by Mr and Mrs GM and news of tantalisingly starting close to the George Inn at Abbots Leigh, without making use of the facilities. Good thing we had outdoor facilities this evening that could constitute one of the Lungs of London, with friendly but still distant socialising in abundance. On On - getting back to one's car was an On Out in itself.
Run 764, April 7th 2021.
WHERE:
St Bartholomew's Church, Lower Failand.
HARES: Kerb Crawler and Cinderella (the latter with lockdown locks to suit his handle).
WHO: 18 hashers, 1 hound and a few billion antibodies.
RUN REPORT: Under the watchful eye of a consistent midnight if you were to believe the church clock, we set off like peas in pods to seek as freshly laid a trail as could be on equally fresh evening with many a ray of hope (the first pod headed by Rebore and Irish Spew with his Scrumpy dogged determination caught a glimpse of the hares completing the trail - spoiler alert). We naturally preferred the opposite and adjacent rather than the hypotenuse when it came to emerging onto Oxhouse Lane, and thankfully no petrol had to yield to us prior to seeking the shiggy of Markham Brook rather than tarmac to wear our souls and soles back in. A scribe's rustiness was quickly exposed when Down & Dirty shouted On On ahead in spite of Briggy and Ballsport conquering a down and up to the left; the astute would have concluded that Briggy's slightly late arrival for his 6:50pm pod necessitated a woody short-cut, but not so here. Punishment thus came in the form of DIY sweet stop and a Dr Pepper down down - the latter having been given a good shaking by the jogged On Out. Once under foliage the chance of the cooling wind prevailing disappeared as quickly as the sunset; thus the hares plus Rocky Horror and BRBs Bag Lady and Bumburner caught up with an overheating Down & Dirty on the razor sharp incline that preceded On In. A previous Bogs revival from the same location had packed a punch bowl-shaped finale, but mercifully not so here as we took in the twilit Portbury in a social manner regarding a not so distant pub visit and ASS hash. On On to the dizzy Dial Hill heights around Bumburner's abode next week, but stay safe!

Covid-19 paused formal hashing since September 2020.

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