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Run Number 277, December 27th 2011 - The Trihashlon!

The Prince’s Motto, Barrow Gurney.
HARES: Brigadoon, Rebore and Cowslip.
WHO: 43 hashers (including 8 juniors and later expanding to 45) and 6 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Time for Bristolians, Greyhounds and Bogs alike to work off that Christmas turkey. Father Abraham warmed us up physically on a pretty warm-for-winter morn, while an On Out checkpoint solved by trial and error warmed us up mentally. Santa’s little Rebore brought back some order at the main road and pointed us back uphill - we soon found the hares had even had the chivalry to include a “Shut Gate” symbol for backrunners. A pileup next to a shiggy stile gave us the chance to admire the views stretching to Long Ashton. That shiggy, though, was a mere mud pack when measured up to the runners’ next adventure. After saying goodbye to the walkers for what felt like half a hash, they charged towards grazing cattle (Deep Throat doing his herding job with customary aplomb) and quickly abandoned any hope of staying clean as they squelched and squirmed through a cow shiggy quagmire, miraculously without losing any shoes. The slightly less exciting terrain of main road and bridleway then pointed us back upwards, though still without any sign of the walkers. Rebore lightened/worsened the mood here by branding Massive a “massive failure” for misinterpreting a False symbol (inter-club rivalry!), and by this stage we decided to take a runners’ photo to tempt the walkers out of hiding - a eureka moment. They were found, and appeared no worse or better for wear, at a Cadbury Heroes sweet stop. We then passed St Mary and St Edward Church twice thanks to a good ol’ Bogs turnback, and then into the undergrowth we went again. Another signature of the bogs (a falsie) pointed us yet again uphill towards a gate which everyone except Brigadoon went through (co-hare privilege), and then came another farmyard shiggy swamp with a route that continued past some madly barking non-hash hounds. Here we drank to inter-hash-club relations with a beer stop of apple and orange juice, Strongbow and Fosters. As we neared the home straight, No Shirt made an heroic effort to be his handle by hashing the wrong side of a barbed wire fence; unfortunately his shirt stayed with him all the way, though. A nice straight descent through the crops to finish, coupled with the same Somerset panoramic views from earlier. That’s our gluttony guilt gone, then!
CIRCLE: “Off with his hat!” screamed the pack about Rebore; “no shortcutting!” was the riposte for far too many to count. Latecomer runners were Up Yours and Fondue, latecomer non-runners were Paella and Waynetta. I believe Smacker and Dungeon Dragons were accused of toned-down sex on the hash - if I’ve got that wrong then may my cheeks glow brick red. Finally a welcome to junior virgins Hannah and Rebecca from Portishead; touching to think they chose us ahead of watching Xmas TV.
ON ON ON: Scribe on family errands so only a taster of the pub’s cosy feel - bangers and chips were on the menu, along with a merry 2012.
Run Number 276, 21st December 2011.
The Lord Nelson, Cleeve.
HARES: Dungeon Dragons & Brigadoon.
WHO: 25 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Shortest day? Yes. Shortest hash? Dream on – we were off to the woods with Ts as Fs for the evening. Days are even shorter at the South Pole [if it were June 21st! - Ed.], so cue an excellently-choreographed penguin-song warmup from Deep Throat. With our flippers flapping and arrows vanishing in the dark we ambled up into the vegetation, taking with us a cowl-bedecked Brigadoon and a debutant willing to get Down and Dirty. Normally Lucky is the hound to dice with vehicular death, but tonight Sheepish had a go while we were still finding our way onto Cleeve's greenbelt. Still intact, we were due another climb and a little speed splitting, with the runners (Brigadoon among them!) happy to make use of a narrow shiggy path and a mole hill minefield while on the up. Next came the theme of Y bends and the secret joy of the hare losing his way; just as we were about to slay the Dragon and lock him in a Dungeon we found the blobs still leading uphill – we ought to have suspected that when “checking it out”. Inevitably for bushy terrain there were several hurdles and low bridge branches – back runners were indebted to the FRBs' screams of pain both for avoiding these hazards and for finding their way. It seemed still that what goes up must keep going up, thus causing a little fatigue for Down and Dirty and a tumble for Call Girl; the cause of the latter was a head on BRB/FRB collision at the site of the evening's sole fish hook for 6. Who, though, would not forgive all this for the sake of a sweet stop with Quality Streets? Um...well, a BOG certainly wouldn't! Duly chocolatised, we passed a few junctions and did some rambo-trailing through nettles before reaching the beer stop – first we shared orange and cranberry juice (anti-oxidants a-flowing), next there came yummy toasted seeds, and finally there came a shot or 2 each of port for the sake of the Winter Solstice – naturally the night had been nice and warm so far. The last thing Dungeon Dragons shared while we were snacking was that we were all doing a pee...............shaped route around the woods, and thus it was the time for us to On In as we had On Outed. The walkers were able to give the runners a guided tour of their earlier field crossing – just as well, since the slopes therein yielded another potential hasher landslide. Disobey the arrows from earlier we did, fail to salute the Lord Nelson on our arrival back we certainly did not!
CIRCLE: Somehow for this circle we had mulled cider that was too hot for the hare, and a little misfortune and mischief to report. Call Girl was not the only tumbler – there were 7 more of them and a Happy Hooker doing very well to get a signal on his phone in those woods. Down and Dirty received her well-worth-the-wait christening, even if she did not yet resemble her handle that much. Colin shall henceforth be known as Rocky Horror, Never Enough has amiably reached double figures, and REWIND has reached CBE status (Commander of the Bogs Empire) with 5 years of runs.
ON ON ON: Do-it-Yourself chip butties, well I never! Bread was lovely and crusty, chips were said to be lovely, pizza aplenty was a great compliment, and a skittles tournament seemed a perfect festive frolic. In the end it was Limpet who bowled us all over, taking home a well earned box of chocolates. The Odds on there being any chocolates left for those attending the cinema with her this coming Saturday – 99/1.
Run Number 275, 14 December 2011.
The Railway Inn, Yatton.
HARES: Walrus and Call Girl.
WHO: A quick head count showed 11 Valiant Hashers; no dogging fraternity this week [Please consult slang dictionary for future reports - Ed.] Notes had been sent by Eager Beaver (double booked) and REWIND who runs abroad this week.
RUN REPORT: TT enjoyed a few turnbacks and fishhooks parking his car, then joined us as we set off over the railway and along the alleyway. PLENTY OF FLOUR VISIBLE - due to hardy hashers setting the night before. Sea state calm - not a beaufort to be felt – NOT A DROP OF RAIN the whole evening – (note to the frail and feebles). Checkpoints kept the hashers guessing and the walker and runners together, no hardy Ballsport to keep Brig company this week, too busy toasting her toes by fire? Kerb Crawler in the lead led a safe crossing of the road, but on the other side a missing hasher was feared!
DT gone!
Phone calls and crossing of fingers didn’t work so a courageous Walrus looped the loop and retrieved the lost and befuddled DT by the church; probably sniffing for mince pies and mulled wine, he usually gets lucky at this time of year! At the foot of the Cadbury Hill ascent, an alternative route was hastily found for Brigadoon fairy feet, who feared for the whiteness and brightness of his pumps. Whilst he and a minder took the low road, the rest, like a crack training team from the elite forces, climbed and slid up and over and down. A fast run back along the streets to a dark bush where the beerstop was revealed before a simple runners and walkers split to the on in. Limpet (she who dares wins) stayed with the dashers along the Strawberry Line and swam to the shore, meeting the walkers on cue at nine o’clock on the dot.
Circle: Plenty of crimes, but none so serious as NOT TURNING UP. TT and Harenet admitted to being hitched for 9 years to the day, congrats were sung and medals awarded to Harenet. Other news, just in, Waynetta has a new knee! Well done Waynetta.
ON IN: Great pub, friendly and helpful staff. Huge basin of tasty broth stacked with your five-a-day. Enough for 25, so we all had thirds.
Run Number 274, 7th December 2011, 5th Anniversary Run!

The Albion, Portishead, plus a bit of the nearby Phoenix Bar, read on...
HARES: Pork Scratchings and Flour Power.
WHO: 23 Hashers, almost doubling in number for the dinner later.
RUN REPORT: A 5th birthday for the Bogs mixed in with our Christmas dinner (not literally!); it was almost as if the run was not the evening's top priority. There was certainly strength in numbers – enough to cause a car park bottleneck and several of us to park in the darkened back doubles. These were thankfully not our destination – instead there came first an amble out past Gordano School (“find any blob from a checkpoint and it's On On” were the words of wisdom). The blobs were not just in flour either – a chalk variety pointed us uphill and into traffic prior to a maze of blind alleys. Our progress beacon for the evening was a steeple with Christmas lights, and on our first passing we followed one of the night's several briefings – go “Oooh!” and “Aaah!” whenever we saw pretty decorations. At this point we decided “tis the season to separate, fa la la la la la la On On” – and so the runners took to the high roads while Flour Power and the walkers took to mankind's shortest ever pub crawl. First up for the people with the running problem was to disobey a no entry sign, and then to half speed, half crawl up some steps and into what felt like thin air. After regrouping by some Popeye graffiti we found we were still on the ascent, not that we needed spinach for it. The reward came in more of our Ooohing and Aaahing next to a very colourful front garden – and a steep downhill to boot! The optimism lasted a good 30 seconds as we again took to the back alleys in an upward direction, but then we truly were downhill for good – Pork Scratchings warned us that our track of choice was slippery enough going uphill, let alone down. We got back onto the main road on all 2s, though, just in time for the steeple to appear again! Duly rejuvenated to be back near our walking brethren, we sped along and into The Phoenix Bar, where most unusually we found both a sober set of waiting walkers, and (shock, horror) zero outside food! A clear ploy to work up as much hunger as possible for our dinner at The Albion, proved by the tantalising hors'doeuvres of crisps, dry roasteds and cheesy breadsticks that The Phoenix had to offer. Time then for an amble back along to The Albion via the High Street for our Christmas hash bash, with all the above accomplished before our 8:30 sit down. Race other hashers at your peril, race the clock at your wisdom!
CIRCLE: Listing crimes on a night of celebration? You must be mad...
ON ON ON: Anyone who has visited our website will know of the sterling efforts of Flour Power in planning our 2/3 course Christmas meal this year, and yet still she managed to throw in some pleasant surprises. While virtually every Bog currently residing in Britain got down to winning at crackers and scoring their first seasonal gluttony points, she was busy with a fluffy tail and a whip looking for any discrepancies with money, as was a big-ear-bedecked Eager Beaver with the change purse (whoops wrong holiday!). Definitely this was worthy of being a birthday party for the Bogs, since somebody else's well-known birthday is still not for a couple of weeks. Bring on that Boxing after Boxing Day Trihashlon!
Run number 273, 30th November 2011.

Bristol House, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Brigadoon and Ballsport.
WHO: 22 Hashers and Hound Lucky.
RUN REPORT: Tonight was our special Tartan hash! Plenty of faces and chequered outfits warmed up in the crowded out car park, and it simply had to be a Highland Fling combined with a group photo with kilts, horns and all. Not just because of the event, but also because we were off to the high lands of Weston for the evening. With kilts, chequered socks and even wigs swaying to and fro on a windless evening, we began by negotiating through Ashcombe Park and its deep bracken – the first highlight therein was a blob 3 metres above the ground on a tree branch – we expect no less of Brigadoon's planning standards. Runners and walkers then made their own way around a big playground out onto the main road, and this was where the slopes began in earnest. Several FRBs left the throng to quarrel over the right way; the woods without a satnav were eventually chosen over the commonsense way back downhill. After not losing our way in woodland for a while, we were overdue some delirium, and it duly arrived after some nifty footwork by all over a felled, gnarled tree. Some went this way, others went no way, still others clung to the hares like glue, but eventually a combination of hares and FRBs found a blob or 10 leading to our creme de la hash mer – a zip wire! Walrus commandeered it first and amazingly bruised nothing, and neither did the platoon of zip-wirers that followed him. It did not distract them enough from the playground's hidden agenda – a tartan beer stop with enough shortbread, Stella Artois and apple juice to feed Nessy for a day. After finding the balance beams around us as easy as falling off a log, we were off and down, with Pork Scratchings stepping up as beer bag courier since it was a far out beer stop. A distant siren assured us we were nearing the greenbelt's edge, and the confirmation came as we ambled past Wood Lane Quarry onto, funnily enough, Wood Lane. We decided here that tartan attire was not artistic enough and so we followed some stairs up through their surrounding residences and down again; this was our bogs' tribute to M C Escher's “Ascending and Descending”, quite appropriate for an up and down hash. We even drank to our artistic impression back down on the home straight – never had an extra regroup on Scotch Corner laden with whisky and Irn Bru felt so appropriate. All of 150 yards remained to the pub from whence we came, so inevitably the heavens then opened. Ah, the one thing us bogs cannot control...
CIRCLE: An oblong inside around the dinner was pool table tonight – the very late Turbo and Up Yours were made to feel welcome-ish with a down down apiece, with the former downing about 3 times quicker than the latter. No statistician again, but still there was the red letter naming of Kevin as Sticky End rather than the intended Zip Down - this came because of said outcome to his playing on the zip wire. Fret ye not, Sticky End – for Bogs trails and zip wires alike, practice makes perfect.
ON ON ON: The table soon became piled high with haggis for all, with a complimentary mountain of potatoes, neaps, swede and pigs in blankets. Another pub quickly warming its culinary ways to our affections, especially since they did all this while on their quiz night in the other room.
Run number 272, 26th November 2011.
Claremont Vaults, Weston-super-Mare. HARES: Turbo & Brigadoon.
WHO: Few enough to list them – Turbo, Brigadoon, Ballsport, Cowslip, Eager Beaver, Limpet, Rebore, Flour Power, Backchat, latecomer Deep Throat, hound Lucky and pub visitor Up Yours.
RUN REPORT: November remains mild and dry (during this trail I went from 3 layers to 1, then briefly back to 2), but still our minimised throng decided to warm up with a miming of the penguin song. The runners then briefly migrated out to sea and back again via a well-known walkway – it would have been impossible at high tide, so either Turbo had planned well or was just plain lucky. Equally fortunate was a catching-up Deep Throat who was allowed/forced to take the shorter route towards the not-so-new pier. We branched off well before that, though, down a road closed only to vehicles. This lead to many a crossroad checkpoint, culminating in what we assumed was our route up into the woods with views galore – a T6 proved otherwise. No, the entrance to said plantation was of a more sinister nature. We were merely ascending a very long staircase to the woods when, too late, Cowslip noticed Turbo idling at the bottom. The front 3 thus had to take on 3 flights of stairs instead of 1, owing to a fish hook at the summit. Compensation, albeit without an apology, was a regroup rest in which Lucky seemed even hungrier for flour than ever. Plenty of reward still thrown in – another hook for 4 next to the storage pits of Worlebury Camp, a hastily floured viewpoint of Wales and a long cut which only Rebore ended up dragging himself along. We were a little more fish-hook-wary as we travelled back downhill towards Kewstoke, but no such bad luck this time – the only fallacy was ignoring a rope swing that was just a little too off-trail. We then sprang out onto the main road and enjoyed the view of Birnbeck Pier to the front, bathed in the lapping waves of the Severn. So distracted were the front 3 FRBs that they fell into the next trap fish-hook, line and sinker and set about consoling themselves with a sit-down beer stop in Prince Consort Gardens. Here additional views of Brean Down, Sand Bay and the 2 Holms came free with a menu of orange and apple juice with Cadbury Biscuit Bites (orange, honeycomb and caramel were the flavours, each going down a treat). After circling a pond, Cowslip then turned daredevil with a leap down to the pavement, and we then all followed suit by limboing under a bar and down a slope to the promenade, evading a blindly reversing coach for good measure. We did not, however, all measure up to the daring-do that followed – a vertical, albeit shielded, ladder down to the beach. The brave and certainly honourable were Deep Throat, Rebore, Cowslip, Turbo, Brigadoon and Ballsport. We tried and failed to finish it at that – there was still time for a pier viewpoint and two slopes to finish, thanks to a T5. As another indication of great planning for small numbers, the On In was split in half to resemble a “NO” for anyone on-outing the wrong way. A trail very worthy of its Saturday daylight!
CIRCLE: “What do we think of the hash?” “Up and Down”; for once neither a compliment nor an insult for this trail. An insult to the circle however was Rebore's lack of a drink, less so for the trail was Deep Throat's possibly enforced shortcut. The Beer Stop was the source of accusations, though – Eager Beaver had stood when he should have sat, while all others except Turbo and Ballsport did the opposite. My conclusion – at the next beer stop, everyone must crouch. A toast to 75 Turbo hashes too, though he has not yet lapped anybody.
ON ON ON: We found the Claremont's decorations up early (possibly even for Christmas next year) but their culinary skills came at just the right time – a fine hash feast worth £25 for the 10 of us included brown and white sarnies with egg, cheese and ham filling, plus those fried potatoes us Bogs can never get enough of! A very late, limping Up Yours saw fit to check them out as well – see what drinking with a running problem does to you? Tartan Hash and Xmas do over the next 2 weeks; I think it's about time we didn't have a special occasion...
Run number 271, 23rd November 2011.
The Ship, Portishead.
HARE: Marcus and his imaginary friend DT.
WHO: 26 to start with, but 30 by the end - plus 3 hounds.
RUN REPORT, by this week's scribe, Callgirl: A fabulous run, with many ups and downs and hashers popping up all over the place. The ups included top quality schokolade; could Marcus be in charge of sweeties in the future? The downs included many steep hills to climb, with a vertical turn back along the coast that tested the hashers to the very limit. Limpet swore like the former marine she so obviously is and cursed Marcus roundly. Cinders interfered with the ladies, untangling Ballsport from the grass and shining a light on Waynetta’s bushel. What a gallant he is! Rebore demonstrated his numerical skills by counting the stars, 9 billion and 3 apparently. Or 4.
CIRCLE: Flour Power continued to extort money with menaces and Eager Beaver popped up for down downs.
ON IN: DT and Swallow popped up in time for grub, after their wine tasting – I prefer to wine drink myself. A potential new hasher popped up with Pushup, whilst Cinders flogged tickets for his Christmas Ceilidh on 17th, fab fun last year with food to die for.
Run number 270, 16th November 2011.
Smacker's Pad, Clevedon Road, Weston-super-Mare.
HARE: Brigadoon.
WHO: Mr Humphreys the hound plus 16 hashers, ballooning to 21 at the AGPU later.
RUN REPORT: It never pours but it rains. On the rather wet night of the Bogs' AGPU (Annual General P*** Up) this scribe chose the worst time to get partly lost en route and play catchup, hence this "director's cut" trash. Highlights of the urban trail included 5 railway bridge crossings, Dungeon Dragons catching up midway after being even later than yours truly, plus a bit of live haring around a locked gate at the railway station – confound these regulations! Immediately there followed a regroup outside a driving test centre before a little more neighbourhood hashing for the On In. We had failed our own test, though, since runners Deep Throat, Pushup, REWIND and Inchworm had dematerialised near Wyvern School. Was there a real wyvern at work here? No, as we found out when on the phone to the grandmaster checking all were alive and well. Another mixed-bag On In, then, ready to charge our glasses and taste buds!
CIRCLE: An indoor circle/oval on this special night, with charges read out to Deep Throat, Dungeon Dragons, the appearing Backchat and the sloppy scribe for their lateness. Several shortcutters there were too – my shortcut here is to forget/not bother finding out who they were...
ON ON ON/AGPU: Cunning enough to arrive late but after the circle were Maggie, Up Yours, Flour Power and an immaculately dressed Limpet. They missed the majority of the AGPU culinary sensation though - "enough for 35" Smacker justifiably thought as we struggled to finish her delicious home made soup and chilli, plus every snacky party food you have ever heard of. Thank God there was a little brain food thrown in, too, as we had a mountain to cover – this time with our heads, not our feet. According to Fondue's Walky-Talky-standard stats, so far 261 people and 21 dogs have been "bogged"; meanwhile a big seal of approval to the September ASS with the promise of a repeat next year, a healthy closing balance for Bogs (if I had a penny every time I shouted "On On"...) and plenty of proposals too – red dress charity hashes on behalf of the South West Children's Hospice (what better reason for child's play?), and a special item of clothing given for every 25 hashes as a hare (still quite an elite club, that). Most of the committee were re-elected to their roles in a landslide, except – Pushup now deputises Cinderella as religious advisor, Limpet will back up hash cashier Kerb Crawler, Walky Talky can now be backed up in stat duty by Fondue and Call Girl (the latter was elected in her absence, hopefully she won't read this in horror), and finally the hare raiser deputy and hasher dabber have been dubbed as Flour Power and Smacker respectively. The Ship Inn, Portishead, is next week – time to set sail on another year's Bogs cruise.
Run number 269, 9th November 2011.
Campbell's Landing, Clevedon.
HARES: Walrus and Big Ears Call Girl.
WHO: 22 hashers and 3 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Scroll down for your guided tour of Clevedon. Among the throng there was a hare that actually resembled one and a centurion toga-bedecked Brigadoon, inherited from Bag Lady. After circling up in the way of many rival running non-bogs, we inevitably chose Clevedon's promenade as our On Out, to the tune of lapping but not crashing waves on a cool but still evening. Via the sailing club and bandstand, Clevedon's new graffiti site (a skateboard ramp) was the site to break our fellowship, to the extent that the runners briefly seemed keen not to reunite after skirting Salthouse Field. However, find their feet/paws they eventually did, just in time to spot absentee Lou arriving home from work (she applauded our efforts, but supplied no beer...wishful thinking). The field trips were not over there; next was the turn of Strode field plus the grounds of the sports centre for the runners after bridging a river, with the walkers settling for a dark riverbank. We thankfully then remained on the main road only for about 2 minutes, before branching off with another bridge to a field of darkness. Duly daunted, we emerged from a catacomb of side-streets onto a regroup near the town centre, feeling in the mood for another signature of Clevedon. Step forward an uphill zigzag path every bit as hallucinogenic as the one near Deep Throat's abode which we use so fondly, complimented by a beautiful panoramic clifftop viewpoint of Clevedon – a twilight highlight. Not the only one, either, as Happy Hooker found that his head torch would only come on when he banged his head – a tool designed for hash misuse, it seems. None of us misused the path back down, otherwise there would have been a Bogs avalanche, the proof being that none of us stopped off at the Sunnyside Surgery that we imminently passed. Opposite were the grounds of the Community Centre, which the runners made their own way around unprompted, followed by an amble through the floodlit tennis club in full swing. Most of us had an inkling by now where we were heading, so the surprise element was to send the FRBs around and out the park en route to a Beer Stop outside Deep Throat's. Home made mince pies (always welcome in June, let alone in November) were the hors d'oeuvre of choice, followed closely by cider, apple juice and sadly spilt orange juice (not so sad for Lucky who duly lapped up her fair hound's share). Seemingly compulsory for any hash near Clevedon beach is an ascent of Dial Hill, while optional is a regroup at its highest point; no choice tonight though. Time for a novelty, thought the hares, and so there came 2 different On Ons – down and along Clevedon's row of hotels for the runners, down a zigzag/side-street hybrid for the walkers. The Severn signalled its approval of our sightseeing by remaining calm for the circle:
CIRCLE: A trail passing 3 tennis courts, no less. An evening with 12 offences, only wish it were less. We had REWIND, Limpet and Waynetta sitting down to spoil their view of Clevedon's highest point, Flour Power, Brigadoon and Happy Hooker short-cutting, REWIND doing the opposite, Kerb Crawler and Fondue being late for the circle, Deep Throat and Maggie being late for the whole thing, all rounded off by stat-less statistician Walkie Talkie. Small mercies – had Call Girl not hastily removed her hat, t'would have been unlucky 13 for all of us.
ON ON ON: Redeem our behaviour, would you pub? Yes, sir! All by ourselves we were as we tucked into plain and cheesy chips, sausage rolls and egg, cheese and onion sandwiches. An On On On of announcements too – next week's AGPU at Smacker's pad is a bring and share for food, and a bring and don't share for drinks (you can bend that rule slightly). Down and Dirty made a very late appearance (we can almost taste her first trail!) and Flour Power completed the orders for our Christmas meal at the Albion – don't forget her landline!
Run Number 258, 2nd November 2011.
Star Inn, Rhodyate Hill, Congresbury.
HARES: Brigadoon and Ballsport.
WHO: 29 hashers (apparently) and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Brigadoon now has blood on his hands. For these little figurines were the replacement for false symbols on this evening's special Halloween Hash. Pumpkins were checkpoints, blooded pumpkins were regroups, ghosts were blobs, and there was even a bit of flour here and there. Most of us turned up in a jam packed car park in costume too, possibly the pick of the litter being Red Devil Rebore. Naturally we had to venture into the scary woods, albeit after waiting at a bus stop for one which inevitably never came, and soon found the symbols to mostly be on trees rather than the leaf-dominated ground. At one of many early crossroads the entire throng passed by Ballsport impersonating the Great Pumpkin (one for all you Charlie Brown fans) and on down a shiggy slope. The Great Pumpkin hare did not follow us though – we had all frog-marched straight into a T5. After a prompt turn round and up, up, up through the foliage, it was left to the seemingly recovered Happy Hooker to declare us "lost in the woods” - this was actually a premonition. First we had to test out a very flimsy tree swing with the lightweight Pushup, though even the hounds could not bear to watch, and then came the terror of the hares briefly struggling to find their way – and even after they did the backrunners still tried to get lost after admiring the view of Cadbury Hill for too long. Just as well everyone had stopped to light up a sweet stop, then, with marshmallows and tangy horror Haribo aplenty. The runners then took the low road alongside their less pacy brethren, before joining speeds again next to a red ghost – quite a rival for the glowing skeleton guarding the swing earlier. Soon we found the evening's sole fish hook for 6 daubed in flour – necessary for the most important symbol for keeping the throng together. Perhaps though that accolade should have gone to the rare sweet stop number 2, albeit to finish the earlier goodies with planes roaring overhead. By now it was time for a long overdue plunge downhill, apparently with no falls – this evening's achievements were just getting better and better. The reward was a brief tarmac respite and a regroup where Tumbling Ted turned Tinkling Ted (out of harm's way obviously), followed by a beer stop with trick and treat rolled into one. First the red devil among us stole the bag, next the case cracked open to the sight of lager, cider and solid and liquid apple, and finally "along came a big spider, that just missed Eager Beaver, and scuppered Brigadoon's best laid plans!” Still time there was to negotiate a shiggy trap or ten, and the delight of a circle around a glowing pumpkin while on the way back.
CIRCLE: Down downs first to Rebore and Eager Beaver – beer bag snatcher and beer bag breaker respectively. Free and early drinks also for the 8 hashers in fully fledged costume, and it was a blessing to have a statistician among our ranks again – we crowned 200 runs for Kerb Crawler, half of that for Happy Hooker and Brigadoon, and 175 for Rebore. Warm/rainy welcomes too for Julie from Clevedon (called upon by Call Girl) and Michael/Micro from Germany – having handles is the same the world over. We could hear civilisation in the distance, and so we charged towards it over stile and shiggy – a Star beckoned on the rain-soaked Rhodyate Hill; we were saved!
ON ON ON: Those woods felt like hashing in a cave, but if that was the trick, here was the treat of all treats! Battered drumsticks, pigs in blankets (a bit like me when it is snowing!), spicy potato wedges, sandwiches containing ham, cheese and tuna and our own TV room. Every bit as fab as the Christmas party that Flour Power is putting together at the Albion, Portishead – now, who among us still doesn't know her new landline for details?
Parting summary – The Star is now firmly established among the elite of Bogs' locations – watch out The Old Inn, Clevedon and The Star, Tickenham – you might be eclipsed soon!
Run Number 257, Saturday, 29 October 2011.
The Burrington Inn.
HARES: Eager Beaver +
WHO: 7 Hardcore Hashers.
RUN REPORT by Pork Scratchings: The mountain goats looked on in astonishment as we warmed up in the usual manner. Leaving the car park we all breathed a sigh of relief that the trail went down hill rather than towards the goats. Our joy was short-lived as our diligent hare, Eager Beaver, shepherded us across the road and up a track. Check points, turn-backs and fish hooks marked our way, followed by a re-group circle that was so large the assembled group decided to run around it. Our behaviour came to the attention of the hare who soon had us on our way, and on to the sweetie stop. Marshmallows and Haribo were a plenty before we headed off again, skirting Dolebury Warren. The route divided into walkers/runners trails which taxed some hashers who couldn't decide who they were, but we were soon reformed and enjoying a wonderful view from a well marked VP. The hare at this stage spent some time on the phone to HQ, arranging the beer stop. With military precision we RVed with the hare's mum, Pat, who arrived with a mobile beer stop on its first manoeuvres. Cider, juice, melon and rocky road replenished the hungry hashers and with the expectation of more we headed on. Rebore decided he fancied being a mole and disappeared down a hole in the ground, all contact with him being lost. At this point the RA and hare became rather anxious and started shouting. The expletives ended with Rebore emerging out of the cave at a lower point. With the quickest down-down on record we headed into the pub to enjoy our grub.
CIRCLE: After some debate, it was agreed that Pat should from hence forth be named, Down and dirty, a formal naming to take place very shortly. A very pleasant and enjoyable Saturday hash was had by all. Pity there where only seven of us.
Run number 256, 26th October 2011.

WHERE: The Dovecote, Ashton Gate, South Bristol.
HARES: Walkie Talkie (on half-term parole supervised by Cinders and Curb Crawler).
WHO: 25 hashers and only 2 hounds! Not many kebabs this week folks.
RUN REPORT: The hash flew off brightly lit with glow worms distributed by Batty and Clanger. DT sped up a false trail, whilst others found the correct route and a walkers/runners split, dovetailing nicely around a field. Plenty of flour and excellent back-marking as always with pro hasher Kerb Crawler. FRB English Muffin, took charge of the front with Turbo who is now wearing his autumnal/winter plumage. Dungeons withdrew early, afraid of being pigeon-holed as a walker, and Coppertone too, later, with achy bits. High up on a ledge overlooking the suspension bridge a regroup perched whilst feeding on sweeties. The beer stop was found nestled into Walkie Talkie’s back yard, with generous amounts of home grown fruit and cocktail nibbles on offer. A series of traffic and road junctions perplexed the hashers at times, but obeying the little green man prevented any road kill. Hashers stormed into the park, no regard for cooing couples and yelled their way through the underpass as they flocked back to base.
CIRCLE: Crimes included pushing and shoving by Walrus, shortcutting by almost everyone, sitting down by Limpet, and Flour Power who just looked guilty. Lollipop and Giddyup were formally named. Brigadoon instructed fancy dress next week; wear it to the hash as well if you like. Sympathies were sent to Happy Hooker who has had the screaming ab dabs since Saturday, now recovering at home with the windows open.
ON IN: The Dovecote is a capacious pub which boasts an inviting menu. Swallow, Eager Beaver, Rebore, and Waynetta all turned up at feeding time and were welcomed into the throng.

Run number 265, 19th October 2011.
The Old Farmhouse, Nailsea.
HARES: Little Miss Perfect and Duracell.
WHO: 31 hashers and 4 hounds.
RUN REPORT: A superb turnout for Little Miss Perfect's swansong hash, and a complimentary trail length to boot. One may have suspected trouble when marathon runner Duracell promised "a short trail” at the outset, but at the off we were happy to choose the right way across the green by default and split our speeds. The runners' choice was a long, blind pavement-come-alley which some walkers temporarily joined them on due to missing their namesake symbol, imminently followed by a main road regroup with Kerb Crawler on lookout duty for boy racers. While still on uphill suburbia we obeyed a fish hook for 6 disguised as the REAL T6 which soon greeted us; orders were to head out into the open country and meet the cows which Duracell had also promised; bliss. Maybe not for all, though, since a single-file tackling of a narrow nettly path led to several FRBs missing another turnback onto wide open country. Only Brigadoon's beacon saved their bacon; among them was Walrus who possibly was receiving his comeuppance for claiming Dungeon Dragons was slowing proceedings down earlier. Just to show there were some hard feelings, hence with came a sweet stop where wine gums and sour monsters were distributed anything but evenly. By now we had noticed this trail's valiant effort to revive turnbacks, as another one numbered 3 took us alongside a sheep and cow who were having a private conversation - baa humbug! Not quite so grumpy, more active, were the invisible equines in the neighbouring fields as we continued with a live hare in tow. Only as far as a railway crossing, though, followed by a quick runners' loop and a fish hook for 7 obeyed by 3 of us - not as criminal as it once was, so it seems. We did however have to all walk a plank of sorts immediately after, even if nobody was thrown overboard into the murky ditch below. A curse in disguise, though, since we imminently found ourselves up to, well, our shoes in farmyard shiggy. 31 bothered bogs boggling through a botched bog later, we resurfaced on tarmac and the runners did a better job than most in cleaning their shoes with a neighbourhood loop – the blessing of tarmac at higher speeds. Under the railway this time, naturally with some subway echoes – they seemed to scare hound Oli into trying to escape with his lead, though this is impossible if your owner is a hasher. We crossed another field and spotted Backwell train station, but branched off instead for an excellent beer stop at Duracell's parents, with more than enough apple, orange segments, beer and apple juice to go round. By now we felt this trail was distinctly un-short and so divided our efforts for choosing the On In; the default route was across an adjoining field and a debated choice at a symbol which seemed to say "No”; any perplexion though lasted all of 30 seconds as we were then presented with the On In symbol we thought we'd never see. 2 hours, eh? Count us all in for one of Ballsport's "long” trails!
CIRCLE: First came a chorus of "rubbish!” and "the hare lied!”, including from smartly dressed arrival Pork Scratchings who took a down down with Bag Lady for being dressed as such. A call also for Call Girl for impersonating a police car during a non-emergency (we have set a precedent – anybody carrying a glowstick in public in future is liable to a citizen's arrest). All in all, a brilliant example of bogs fun to set for virgin Debs from Bristol, who is an acquaintance of bogs rookie but greyhound stalwart English Muffin.
ON ON ON: Out with a bang bang galore! Inside what looked like a converted barn, Little Miss Perfect served up a big, perfect spread of two big cakes, chips in their hundreds, salad and sandwiches on brown and white bread with lovely crusts and fillings for all palates. All especially impressive for a spread arranged at the last minute due to dates confusion, apparently. To Little Miss Perfect, it has been an honour to have hashed with you and inspired you to co-hare such a brilliant trail for your departure. Many thanks.
Run Number 264, 12th October 2011.
The Phoenix Bar, Portishead.
HARES: Flour Power and Pork Scratchings.
WHO: 5 hounds and 28 hashers, ballooning to 34 as time passed.
RUN REPORT: The weather set out to redeem itself for last week on a mild evening where several of us braved only a t-shirt top layer in the dark. While mentally warming up Pork Scratchings aptly christened this trail "an amble through Portishead” - as popular as the harbourside has been when hashing from the Phoenix lately, it was nice to On Out in the opposite direction this time. While "ambling through” the local back streets we found that Joe Public had for once not tampered with the flour – a blessing, since Brigadoon's brigade had unwittingly given us all a 5 minute headstart and probably would have taken limited pleasure out of getting lost. We found the best way to respect the back runners was to regroup in the middle of the road, even if Harenet went missing for a while. After passing The Phoenix's local rival The Albion plus neighbouring Gordano School, we still were not that sure if we were all alive and well, so time then for a roadside regroup whose symbol was doodled to look obscene (well, obscene for a non-bog). We did not quite resort to a headcount, but did stoop to sending the FRBs a long way into a T5, shortly after ambling along a pavement as wide as a runway. To suit, we then had lift off! Well, after a sweet stop in a playground with the shameful absence of a zip wire, anyway. The jet fuel was strawberry bonbons, jelly babies and wine gums – the flight plan was up into Weston Big Wood (its real name) in all its pitch black glory. After a 10 minute-or-so rambo route (those are getting popular) we regrouped deservedly at the top of yonder staircase with no view, with the well-floured downhill path being an especially welcome sight for the slightly wearied back runners Deep Throat and Maggie. The real safety net though was the fish hook for 8 just before we left the trees behind, and finally recognising our surroundings as the On Out of run 251 (back in August, when it was cold!). A change of terrain onto tarmac, then, but never a change of turbulence as we wandered uphill and downhill either side of a "Beer-Near-Ish” symbol. Thankfully the symbol was telling the truth, though the beer stop was on such a steep downhill that tumbling past it may have been easier than stopping. The penalty though would have been missing out on a Flour-Powered Fruit Feast of strawberries, pears, grapes, bananas, apple juice and lager, so assemble was what we did. After such a tricky triathlon (running, climbing and drinking), it seemed perfectly acceptable to disobey a "No Left Turn” sign for the On In, as well as take the same final straight as the On Out at a snail pace. Excellent hash trail standards indeed, for what was supposedly an amble...
CIRCLE: The erotic flour artists by the roadside were revealed as Brigadoon and Rebore, even if hound Lucky had tried to lick the drawing out in her usual way. This diverted attention from the virgins present – there was Walrus's acquaintance from Portishead, Colin (a warm welcome to you sir and be warned – tonight we were better behaved than usual!), plus English Muffin from the Bristol Greyhounds, who had followed in the footsteps of Dungeon Dragons' transfer policy. Nicky was given the handle of "Never Enough”; more to come on that soon...
ON ON ON: Superb outside food again to grace the Phoenix, this time 3 pizzas garnished with chips galore. Also there was a photo-op for the website hopefully of how Nicky's new handle came about, all we can say here is that too many name suggestions spoil the broth.
Run Number 263, 5th October 2011.
The Star, Tickenham.
HARE: Pushup, who amiably stood in for busy bee setter Deep Throat.
WHO: 22 hashers and 5 hounds, plus 8 latecomers.
RUN REPORT: Epic hashing personified. This year's Indian Summer will no doubt be back in mid-December, so for now we settled for hashing from frequent-ish choice the Star Inn, however I do not recall us ever doing it in the dark and wet. Up and down towards Nailsea's rear end was the On Out, during which the night's persistent precipitation almost made an effort to stop. Good timing, that, for we were soon in amongst a minefield of nettles, bridges and cowpats; the source of the latter were not even noticed by the absent-minded back-tracker Eager Beaver until they were almost on top of him! This brigade of back-running b******s had seemingly been left to rot by the FRBs, though out in open country we could easily hear and follow their lights/screams. Once we were all back as one on a riverbank, Pushup took to a bit of live haring since the day's rain had dematerialised most of the markings, and did it show. After bullying some cars off of the road near Tickenham Church, we encountered a T5 that had survived the elements thanks to being under shelter, but as we slowed our pace the rain did the opposite. Yes, the clouds burst their banks so much that we even decided to ignore/not notice 2 fish hooks for 5 as we neared waterproof terrain and Tickenham. Worthy of small reward, you would think, but instead there came the big reward of a sweet stop smorgasbord of haribo, jelly babies, jaffa cakes, cucumber and tomato. Time then for the executive decision of whether to slosh back to the pub early or display hashers' contempt for the Atlantic's latest shipment of H2O. Well, most of us rose literally to the challenge up towards Cadbury Camp and back down to the road, while a few decided they were wimps/non-rambos; no need to name and shame them here. Only the weather made this trail seem like a marathon, since as we On-Inned exclusively via tarmac we noticed we were still at a well-within-regulation time of 90 minutes. Foregoing a beer stop for a change was entirely excusable, since any drinks would have been instantly diluted.
CIRCLE:nNo chance tonight, as the only crime came from up in the sky and the virgins present could not possibly receive a "warm” welcome in these conditions. Hash Respect, weatherman!
ON ON ON: The walking wet-but-not-wounded poured into the Star, with all the hounds and their owners bar Lucky given a deserved early night, so all the more tuna, cheese and pickle sandwiches and chips for the rest then. If far from being a record turnout of hashers, tonight must have been a record for changes of clothes. Our appetite for the dark hash season is now wetted!
Run Number 262, 26th September 2011.
The Bristol House, Weston-super-Mare.
Brigadoon, BallSport and Drop 'em.
28 hashers and 3 hounds.
RUN REPORT by this week's scribe, Call Girl:
An exceptionally hot and sweaty hash due to global warming, but, as ever, a text book hash, from the hashmeister. Along, round, up, down and up and down again. Unusually Brigadoon took the runners' route, causing a purple face and extra sweat to protrude. A bash hash with locals on bikes was narrowly avoided but luckily the Beer Stop in the woods calmed everyone down. Dungeons pulled a muscle and missed the last fishhook, then further embarrassed himself by flaunting his budgie smugglers in the car park.
Circle included introducing a virgin who works for BallSport. Crimes, all sorts, including heinous types.
This is a big pub, friendly landlady, with an interesting spread, all sorts of bits and pieces. Fast Forward snuck in late for eats but Rebore had already cleaned up in the cake department. To coin a phrase.
Run Number 261, 21st September 2011.
The Waverley, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Smacker, Up Yours and Fondue.
WHO: 25 hashers and hound Lucky.
RUN REPORT: At the close of Summer, the Bogs decided they liked Weston after all. After disregarding a warmup for so many, a vertical bar on the pavement (basically a substitute for a false) prevented us from hashing to the Waverley's sister pub, the Balmoral. Instead we on outed past a fire alarm which we didn't set off and out into Clarence Park at 2 paces. The runners set a brisk-ish pace through the rapidly darkening park and out onto Weston beach, possibly as practice for this month's midnight walk (not for boys!). We regrouped opposite the miniature railway and then took the promenade at a leisurely pace – a runners' reshuffle onto the sand plus a fish hook for 3 saw to that, or at least it succeeded in making Brigadoon power-walk. At a regroup next to the by-now-shut pier we revelled in the silhouetted views of Steep Holm and Brean Down, but also found that naughty Joe Public had rubbed out the blobs, so cue a couple of minutes of live-haring in the direction of the Sovereign Centre and its adjacent park. Back with the white stuff, we split into walkers and runners twice in quick succession – firstly we separated for about 20 seconds in the park, and then the walkers gallavanted off with a vengeance; the route was past the Playhouse and through yonder dark park for the regroup. The reappearing runners meanwhile had witnessed Walrus presenting a rose to Tumbling Ted; any hasher would cherish that. In the mood for cherishing? Well, how about a fairly easy climb up-road and on towards a Beer...sorry...Banquet Stop? Fondue's famed pecan cakes, melon, apple, toffees, cider, apple juice, eclairs and even tortilla chips were distributed in no particular order, and there was even a lovely view of the twinkling pier thrown in; was it something nice we said? No, of course there had to be a price. A classic "G spot” fish hook for 12 on a downhill, to be precise, with Royalty temporarily AWOL. What better time, then, to surely break the record for walker/runner splits? Duly this was obliged by sending the latter around the Old Colonial and through the new archway before regrouping at the pier again. The theme for tonight seemed to have been the new parts of Weston, so we simply had to finish at semi-snail pace via the fountains, big wheel and their surrounding Plaza. Spotted Dick unfortunately finished with a red spotted knee due to a fall, so we only finished the Waverley cruise 99% intact.
CIRCLE: This 105 minute hash had covered so much ground it felt more like the ASS Rambo run so no circle just yet. Enough time though to acknowledge the numbers swelling to 28 thanks to the arrivals of Deep Throat, Maggie and Dungeon Dragons, and of course to call this brilliant trail "rubbish!”. After all, we had even more reason than usual to be heading indoors:
ON ON ON: A bit crowded equals very cosy, and 6 troughs of shipped in Chinese grub equals a salivating scribe! Plenty of pancake rolls, mushroom rice, beef and pepper stir fry to go round – Monosodium Gluttony!
Run Number 260, 14th September 2011.
The Miner's Rest, Long Ashton.
HARE: Deep Throat.
WHO: 27 hashers and 5 hounds, including virgin hound Oli.
RUN REPORT: You can't beat a penguin warmup song for entertainment and perplexity, and the non-hashing locals in the car park agreed. This was almost a carbon copy of run 186 many moons ago, but even identical twins behave differently. To prove the point, we on-outed upwards and into a unique hasher/hound bottleneck by a wall; only the newly christened backrunner hound Sheepish hurdled it with any sort of style. What followed was such a dense labyrinth of nettles, semi-shiggy and low bridges, that it seemed we were back on the Rambo trail from the ASS weekend. A T7 coupled with the aroma of the last Summer bonfire was our cue to head up and out to a regroup, and since we were then crossing the golf course the fish hook had to be for fore of us. After some debate as to whether the woods should be dared, common sense inevitably lost and in we went, splitting our speeds for good measure after a sweet/chocolate shards stop. Runners in this case continued their ascent and were rewarded with the view of a bright red moon – secondary prizes included a fallen tree hurdle, a view of the clubhouse and a fish hook for who knows. Our descent as a group then coincided with that of the sun and temperature, though we were back on tarmac by this point. Comfortable enough, then, for a few FRBs to be left to their fate as the rest of us snuck around some playgrounds to the beer stop – everyone got a taste of the crisp apple, beer, orange juice and apple juice on offer though. It was up, up, up for the On In, and also straight, straight, straight up an alley that was anything but blind. Anyone who on-outed this way would have received a warning about El Nino on the ground, rather than ON IN. Perish the thought...
CIRCLE: 3 virgins to welcome warmly – Margie from Whitchurch, Spotted Dick from Bristol (that might just be his hash name) thanks to the Internet, and Markus from Portishead. A cold shower, however, for Walrus for trying to do Deep Throat's job for him, plus Dungeon Dragons and Flour Power for trying to pass the buck in the circle. Walky Talky flew in a little too late to provide her ever meticulous stats; next week is a rollover!
ON ON ON: 70 minutes had been the time, though after a not-so-Long Hashton we still needed a Minor Rest. Cosily huddled into our own little alcove, brown and white sandwiches aplenty soon appeared, stocked with egg, cheese and pickle, tuna, cheese and onion. So plenty that the chips evaded us for another evening. On a serious note, Brigadoon dished out the freebie "check your balls” cards for all orange ASS-shirt recipients, including females. On a serious-ish note, Smacker and Up Yours announced the Waverley pub in Weston as next week's venue, which we will no doubt be paddle-steaming along to.
Run number 259, 7th Septemner 2011.

The Stag and Hounds, Churchill.
HARES: Eager Beaver ably assisted by the invisible Rebore.
WHO: 17 or 18 and 3 hash hounds.
RUN REPORT: After sleeping together over the weekend, the hashers were in convivial mood and more than ready for this hash par excellence.
A myriad of clear and helpful markings, none washed out by the showers (showers hmmm, would one of those been good at the weekend eh?) Plenty of shiggy made the going sticky and intense (bit like the weekend again?) but didn’t deter Brigadoon from his usual summer garb.
Off out from the pub and across the A38 up and around the lanes and fields. Horses, ponies and corn as tall as trifids all glared menacingly at the hashers in the half light. One farmer had thoughtfully left out a cesspit (useful next sleepover?) Flour Power practised annoying traffic by asking everyone to pass wide and slow. Walkers and runners were split and reunited at sweetie stops and cider stops where hashers attempted to drink their own body weight in the apple nectar.
CIRCLE: No circle as return was later than planned and food waiting.
ON INN: Top notch nosh here, platters of deeply fried everything; Flour Pour wasn’t eating, so enough for seconds. A birthday cake was presented to Limpet as she has now achieved her majority. Brigadoon was presented with a large bottle of liquor as a thank you for his humungous efforts over the ASS weekend. REWIND organised a sweepstake and gave out prizes to recycle the papers. Newcomer Nicky, was welcomed to the hash, Walrus and Pork Scratchings explained everything and hopefully we’ll see her again soon. If not we’ll know who to blame. Rebore blew in at the end for the crumbs.
Report by Call Girl (who sensibly prefers her own bed and modern-day plumbing).
Run numbers 256-8, 2nd-4th September 2011.

The First BOGS Alfresco Somerset Scrumpy ("ASS") Hash!
From: South Farm, Puxton, North Somerset. (See below for REPORTS.)

Run number 258, 4th September 2011. Joint Hash with Bristol HHH's run number 1486.
South Farm, Puxton.
HARES: Dungeon Dragons and REWIND (Hash Design courtesy of Brigadoon) .
WHO:Bristol H3 and a couple from K&A flew in for this final leg of the ASS, ballooning our numbers to 33 hashers and 6 hounds.
RUN REPORT:After a reset photo with the inflow of Kennet and Avoners, we set off with one of the farm hounds, Nipper, in tow all the way - only too glad to be of service to our hosts. Avoiding the red spots of yester-yesterday, we proceeded down a very shiggy lane, with junior hasher Harry having the chivalry to follow a fish hook for 4. A T4 and a prowling tractor then pointed us back among the bovines for a couple of fields – a mere taster of trouble, though, as hound Charlie got himself snaffled briefly on his lead and grandmaster Brigadoon led Massive on a short cut to the cider stop owing to a revival of his prepatellar bursitis and allowing them second helpings of Ben Crossman's Prime Farmhouse Cider. Dungeon Dragons again took on the task of herding the cows with their frosty looks, assisted ably by Cinderella. We then instigated a Queen-like "where's the, where's the beer stop? Clap, clap clap” Not yet, ya big disgrace. There was, however, a choice given between a jelly baby sweet stop or a car boot sale across the road – everyone chose the cheaper option. We soon emerged onto the A370 but found it in a mean mood – the backwalkers took 4 minutes or so to cross. There had to be something worth the wait for, and there certainly was – a farmhouse cider stop with some seasonal blackberry picking en route. As we reconvened roadside towards the Full Quart there was still time for one more surprise – a departure back into the greenbelt to take in the riverbank and some freshly flattened grass, plus one more electric fence which this time claimed no victims. A worthy ending!
CIRCLE: This time we were out in the Full Quart car park. After Deep Throat hastily removed his headwear, down downs were given to Saddlesore of K&A for taking Nippy for a bit more than a walk, Smack 'Em for missing the previous down down, and to Eager Beaver for being the day's sweet courier. Apologies for missing the names, but 5 Bogs virgins from Bristol H3 and K&A H3 were warmly welcomed, hound Charlie was christened Mr Humphries after the phrase "I'm Free!” for escaping his lead – interesting reference. Finally, Gill (Mrs Rewind) was named FastForward>> because she skips the hash and meets us afterwards. Maybe if they bring any acquaintances along in future we will name them "Pause” or "Play”? Just a thought...
ON ON ON: More fun and drinks at the Full Quart before heading back to the Farm to pitch down tent/camper for another year. In summary, an excellent weekend which even the weather chose the right time to be bad for – namely when we were all tucked up in our tents and not hashing. Here's to ASSes!
Run number 257, 3rd September 2011.
South Farm, Puxton, 11:30am – a time when people are neither asleep nor awake.
HARES: Turbo and Deep Throat. (Hash Designer Brigadoon)
WHO: 21 hashers and 4 hounds.
RUN REPORT: To cut a short story long......yesterday was barely a warmup for this. After a full English breakfast time which included shaking the scribe out of his camper van slumber, Turbo appeared at the warmup with bloodied ankles – "Oh No!” chorused the short-trousered among us. During some early drizzle we on-outed under the pilons and over several thistle beds, with the duty of cattle herding left to the worthy Dungeon Dragons. 6 FRBs were duly caught on a riverside fish hook, while at the next river crossing walking the plank was slightly favoured over a bramble-infested bridge. Still at the riverside, there came the rarity of Flour Power obeying a fish hook for 4, plus the surrealism of hashing through some concrete pipes by the side of the trail – what else could they have been there for? Time then for a sweet stop/aniseed ball and mentos stop; the latter made those who had guzzled coke at breakfast a little nervy. What little rain remained ground to a halt at a 5 ways, but it had left a shiggybath specially for the hounds and a dry-looking patch in the middle which only 5 of us braved. As we soon came to a stable-side beer stop with orange juice and cider thrown in, rumour spread that we were only a quarter of the way around. With that BRILLIANT news in mind, "Old Macdonald then had a hash, E-I-E-I-O- with a Shetland here, and a horsie there, here a goat, there a geese, everywhere a dirty hasher; self-serve blueberries calmed us down, E-I-E-I-O”. Drop 'Em followed Flour Power's lead too with apparently a debut hook performance, and while diving in and out of the nettles Cinderella's grass whistle kept our spirits as high as the notes he hit.
Just as well, that, since steel nerves then were in demand as we discovered the cause of Turbo's flesh wounds, while also receiving a most welcome second cider stop shipped in by Mr and Mrs Rewind. If you were a "wimp” you merely circumnavigated onto the Strawberry Line at walking pace; if you were a "Rambo” you dived headfirst onto a trail that the word "overgrown” could never do justice to. The brave platoon had several "nice trips” along the way, but eventually emerged only slightly scathed on the other side, eventually rejoining the "wimps” back on the Strawberry Line. After another mile or so of two-wheeled obstacles, we reached civilisation again in the form of Sandford, with its inevitable fish hook for 4. Saving the most remarkable till last, we paced our way through Thacher's orchards to the Railway Inn and completely ignored the temptation of Thatcher's brewery.
ON ON ON 1: This preceded circling up for a change, which instead was to be done back at the farm. Off the menu pub grub on the Railway Inn benches was in order as an appetiser for the BBQ later, and the benches were comfy enough for Rebore and Eager Beaver to audaciously doze on them! It was only a 4 hour hash, for appearances sake...
CIRCLE: Everyone drove/passenged back to the farm this time, and in amongst the evening's festivities there had to be time for a circle. Present by now were – Turbo, Deep Throat, Kerb Crawler, Cinderella, Walky Talky, Brigadoon, Cowslip, Skidmark, Ballsport, Drop 'Em, Flour Power, Limpet, Bag Lady, Coppertone, Eager Beaver, Cheesepot, Dungeon Dragons, Clanger, Batty and Rebore, plus the non-hashing REWIND, Gill, Walrus, Smacker and Swallow. Not a bad name in sight!
Outstanding crimes included Turbo falling from a tree on run 255, Cowslip likewise plus sitting at today's cider stop, Eager Beaver for only bothering to turn up for run 255 and Cheesepot for being fence-fried yesterday. After much deliberation as to a new handle (Cheese on Toast was a candidate) we decided to rename her "Fondue”, because we really are that fond of you. Swallow was also renamed "King Alfred” for over-barbecuing the garlic bread, and even one of the hounds got in on the christening act – Basil of Clanger and Batty pedigree is now "Sheepish” because he tried to act like Babe the sheep-pig throughout.
ON ON ON 2: The BBQ was as brilliant as ever for hash afters, and from sunset onwards we all sang songs around a campfire and played everything from chirades to Chinese whispers to tales of darkness and woe from Smacker! Apparently the late-late runners stayed around the campfire till past 2:30am; the only thing missing was the smores.
Run Number 256, 2nd September 2011.
South Farm, Puxton.
HARES: Brigadoon & Ballsport.
WHO: 20 hashers and 4 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Leg 1 of the Bogs Alfresco Somerset Scrumpy, or ASS-ing around for short, began with the unstable leg of Father Abraham and the forewarning of another Brigadoon novelty – red spots tied to trees and cow shiggy instead of flour. Well, it worked. After exiting the farm with most of us donning the special orange KEEP CALM & CHECK YOUR BALLS T-shirts of the grandmaster (for this weekend that mantle has been leased to Brigadoon) the runners and walkers promptly split; the former negotiated first a field or 3 of lesser spotted cowpats and then they let the bulls do the herding for a change. One farmer had the courtesy to shield us from an even feistier flock of bovines using his landrover soon after – maybe he is used to hasher antics. The walkers were then rejoined via a field which felt like astro turf underfoot plus the leaning church of Puxton, just in time for the head torches to be fished out and for a christening electric fence to be scaled. Christening, because poor Cheesepot got zapped and left us with the conundrum of what to rename her before the weekend was up. The decision was not to be made tonight, though – instead we merely found time to troop across the sedate A370 – the path to the Full Quart was our last quarter.
CIRCLE: Not on the agenda this time – to be replaced by some excellent hospitality; read on...
ON ON ON: After a hash that excused a beer stop, the need for a full quart of sustenance was high – anything to oblige. Out on the patio we gorged on sausage, chips and tuna, cheese and ham rolls, plus waffle and ice cream if you happened to be a starving scribe. Several walkers took a short cut back to the farm where we had all set up camp or camper van, and some took the even shorter cut of driving. Whilst those who stayed late at the pub decided to re-do the hash backwards through the damp fields, followed by a game of ciderpong. A special enough occasion to mention all the attendees too – Brigadoon, Ballsport, Cinderella, Kerb Crawler, Walky Talky, Cowslip, Skid Mark, Turbo, Drop 'Em, Flour Power, Limpet, Bag Lady, Coppertone, Cheesepot, Dungeon Dragons, Clanger, Batty, Deep Throat, Walrus, Eager Beaver, (takes deep breath in) late-latecomer Rebore, plus hounds Daisy, Lyra and Basil X 2 (more to come on that).
Run number 255, 31st August 2011.
The Swan, Rowberrow, N Somerset.
HARE: Tumbling Ted and Hare Net.

Run number 254, 24th August 2011.

Brent Knoll Inn, Brent Knoll.
HARES: Brigadoon and Ballsport.
WHO: 32 hashers and 5 hounds.
RUN REPORT: What a night! This Brent-Knoll-esque circumnavigation, ascent and descent was a Brigadoon Brilliancy, a Ballsport for all sorts, and also an epochal occasion weather-wise, as darkness descended before our return, mostly without head torches. After warming up and photographing without the tardy scribe, we began with a crossing of the strangely serene A370, and then ignored a red light on the route into East Brent. None could ignore Brigadoon’s photo op of holding up a tree in a nearby C of E graveyard, since spirits needed raising as an ascent with a twist was on the cards. A twist with a vengeance, that is, since Brigadoon had gone fishing for the evening with personalised fish hooks - while hashing through many fields and slopes the recipients of said hooks were, in order - Walrus, Turbo, Dungeon Dragons, Kerb Crawler and Walky Talky together, Eager Beaver and Pork Scratchings, with the latter 2 sandwiching a rain-soaked regroup. There were also orthodox fish hooks for 8 and 3, and one for everybody. Even the scenery joined in the fun and played the occasional trick - virtually every stile we hurdled wobbled underfoot, and in amongst the fish hook frolics we were given a gorgeous sunset viewpoint, with Steep Holm, Crookes Peak, Brean Down and Hinckley Point equally illuminated. Nature’s biggest fury came early on, though - judging by the screams, there were at least 5 fall guys/gals on a shiggy slope that had been watered down all day. Walrus had definitely been among the casualties, and Dungeon Dragons had been the only gentleman in helping others with their descent. Bodies were all intact as we neared the steep grassy knoll, though they may not have been if a fish hook halfway up had been obeyed. Too much to talk about at the top - even in the clouds, the silhouettes of Brean Down and Crookes Peak remained, and the hares and Turbo decided to lap everyone before presenting them with a consolation prize of beer and sweet stop goodies - cider, orange and apple juice, jelly babies and tongue-tingling sweets were aptly wolfed down. We then really did do a brisk pace down a wet, muddy hill in the dark with only a couple of head torches, even more remarkably the only damage was a half-stumble from Duracell at the outset. Our by-now nocturnal throng strolled past the Church again for the On In, though witness statements suggest the FRBs and walkers may have chosen different home straights. Oh, the tricks the dark plays on you...
CIRCLE: An oblong circle was constructed in the skittle alley, celebrating 50 Bogs runs for Harenet and a welcome to virgin Robert from Bristol. Harenet had also teamed up with Cinderella in tampering with the fish hooks, a crime worthy of being sent round the trail again - we were in a lenient mood. So lenient that Walrus, with his muddier clothes from falling, was deemed to have "suffered enough”.
ON ON ON: The numbers meant rationing the brown and white sandwiches to one apiece, thankfully not so with the chips aplenty. Cowslip and Eager Beaver could not rouse anybody else’s interest in skittles tonight, hopefully everyone will be bowled over next week. Best wishes to Brigadoon, too, since the day’s hare and hash exertions had given him a touch of prepatellar bursitis (no that’s not a mouthful, it’s a knee-ful).
Run Number 253, 17th August 2011.

Newton House, Clevedon.
HARE & HOST: Deep Throat.
WHO: 26 hashers, 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: A photo opportunity on the grandmaster's lawn, with a warming up Father Abraham for good measure, wetted our appetites for not just a twilit barbecue, but also an 80 minute canter through every terrain in Clevedon's arsenal. After on-outing through the local park and earning the silent respect of tennis-playing spectators, we bypassed the potential flour minefield that is Six Ways roundabout and headed for the familiar but always successful hashing territory of Dial Hill (basically high altitude Clevedon, to the uninitiated). Park Road, with its near 40 degree incline, was the rare entrance though, and it managed to slow down even the recovered Turbo and irrepressible Walrus (oddly the latter is much faster on land than in water). It turned out we had not avoided a choice of 6 directions altogether, as a substitute version confronted us nearby. Naturally the right way was picked last, also naturally it was further uphill, but then came something entirely man-made – a sign for Ash Grove that had been graffititised into "Hash Grove”. Was it the work of Deep Throat or a psychic teen? ASBO records will tell...
After taking in both that view and another with trees in the way, we simply had to down and back up Clevedon's Strawberry Hill with its shading foliage (though it bares no such fruit). Maybe the presence of a rope swing on a slope had something to do with that, as Brigadoon turned George of the Clevedon Jungle and "watched out for that hound Lucky!” Hastily back on tarmac, Lucky again displayed contempt for vehicular danger (she obviously thinks dogs and cats have the same number of lives), and, shockingly, a fish hook for 4 on the descent appeared to be treated likewise. No ill feelings for the next viewpoint, though, as walkers and runners met up after a brief hiatus to stare not-directly at a sunset that was bleeding into the Severn Channel. We then remembered we had gone a long way down and there were no pack animals available, so back to work, haunches! Remounting our trusty steed Dial Hill, the sort-of runners did their own fish hook for 4 en route to the Beer Stop (trivia – there was no sign of the "curtain twitcher” from run 211 this time). Beer, apple juice, orange juice and apples simply had to be sampled at Clevedon's peak – it is a rendezvous point that never gets old, particularly as a BBQ appetiser. Then came the night's collector's item – Brigadoon "checking it out!” Possibly for the last time, too, as the way down was opposite his, via a track with stairs built specially for hashers (a lot of demand there). Reaching the final alphabet entry, we zoomed in a zany manner down Clevedon's zigzag path and along to the finishing abode. Talking of which, this scribe is a little tired after starting full time work and still hashing – ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
CIRCLE: Wake up, scribe! Tonight Bag Lady filed a successful claim for libel against you (falsely labelling Matt and Ali as Mark and Abi last week was the offence; you might as well have called them Ren and Stimpy). Bag Lady herself was one of 6 Beer Stop sitters – criminals rarely travel alone when in the guise of Bogs. They also have calling cards, and these were issued to the innocent Jean and Sue as Little Miss Perfect and Bumbag respectively. This all cruelly overshadowed a toast to 4 years of bogging for Inchworm, and several years plus one day of being on planet Earth for Call Girl. With no returnees to toast, the title was instead merely given to those "not here last week”, all 8 of them.
ON ON ON: Deep Throat's shindigs speak for themselves. Every meaty, salady, savoury and chocolatey ingredient went down very well in the dark – the very special occasion was a warm, dry evening in August of all things. Next week's hash at the Red Cow was substituted for the nearby Brent Knoll Inn, so most of us will save about 5 pence fuel. Bravo!

Run Number 252, 10th August 2011.
The Salthouse, Clevedon.
HARES: Walrus and Call Girl.
WHO: 25 hashers and hounds Daisy and Lucky.
RUN REPORT: First there was a just-about respectable 18 of us, then 20, 22, 24 and finally 25 as Deep Throat threatened to mow us down as we departed the car park. The irony was this was the wrong way anyway; instead the promenade was the hares' route of choice. Those who thought we had resisted scaling Clevedon's very own Poet's Walk were just as mistaken, though the runners did approach it via the hair-raising walkway through the middle of the marine lake, all of 30 inches in depth. Once up on PW there were sea breezes galore and the scenery that tends not to change (a graveyard bypass and a thumbs up to the "4 fingers” wooden states atop Wayne's Hill). The walkers then descended past Clevedon Pill – there was no time for birdwatching tonight though as the river-skirting runners were closing in fast. What better time for a regroup by Clevedon sluice gate then, whereby the only way is on and out past the rear of Clevedon Golf Course. A one-track route is still plenty opportunity for a fish hook for six and a T10 for frontrunners though, and tonight was no exception. As we began to return Clevedon-ward the hares split open the sweet-stop succulence of fruit pastilles and jelly babies. The latter were not the only things in a wibbly wobbly world of their own though – REWIND had disappeared while getting in some early blackberry picking. As he reappeared, Lucky continued the mischievous trend with some typical canine ignorance of the highway code – cue frosty looks from a passing driver in what was supposedly midsummer. Not so called for was a fish hook for four that less than four of us obeyed, even if it was the prelude to zig-zagging along one of Clevedon's signature dirt tracks. Walrus and Call Girl then showed two more examples of their hare prestige – first by passing Clevedon Pill again with no confusion (retracing is always the sign of good haresmanship) and secondly with a beer stop by Call Girl's allotment with a self-service on raspberries and cream (cider and orange juice complimented them, for the record). A taste of Autumn for afters too, as we covered two separate final straights in near darkness to touch down near the 100 minute mark.
CIRCLE: A harsh criticism of "not windy enough” was met inevitably with Walrus's fake flatulence. Just as offensive was Pork Scratchings making a phone call whilst mobile, REWIND not following Coppertone's example of blackberry picking while the throng was stationary and no less than eight shortcutters; they will later be released with new identities. Virgin Tom had travelled down from Ipswich (presumably not for the sole purpose of hashing) and Deep Throat was given the inevitably warm returners' welcome. He was born so beautiful, after all.
ON ON ON: In a nice spacious Salthouse (for once not featuring deafening music) five trays worth of "you name it we sandwich it”s were served, albeit at the cost of forfeiting chips for an evening. Many list the Salthouse as Clevedon's most improved pub, and with the views and atmosphere that kept most of us there until well gone 10pm, you can see/read why.
Run Number 251, 6th August 2011.
The Downs, Portishead, followed by Rowan Cottage BBQ.
HARES: Coppertone and Colin.
WHO: 15 hashers and 4 hounds; is this the highest ever hounds to hashers ratio?
RUN REPORT: It would take a real downer of a day for a hash to be boring. On a day where anniversary partying at Bag Lady and Coppertone's was on the cards, a 50 minute stroll with no beer or sweet stops may have been expected to be serene; no such luck. Straight from the off, only the hares' unsolicited advice made us choose the correct trail of three, but everyone then had to choose their own way down a slope with landslide potential aplenty. One veteran Bog was not quite so Happily Hooked and ended up in the nettles, but we were all grateful for going back uphill under a blanket of vegetation. Grateful enough to quickly sniff out a T3 and for a couple of new-ish-bies to take a regroup sitting down, anyway. An interesting novelty was also squeezed in – after hooking the four frontrunners on some stairs, we passed a "Badger View” which unfortunately resembled a "Whack-A-Mole”. Rejecting this blood sport, we slalomed on through the shrubs and passed a non-hared warning sign - "deer moves silently, stoat moves swiftly”. Hashers moved briskly and out into the On In – naturally it was the same grassy knoll from earlier. What better way to warm up for a feast?
CIRCLE: Plenty to welcome – Slimey Limey from Japan was Bristol (judging by his pace he had been practicing up Mount Fuji), Colin who debuted as both a Bog and hare, and always welcome returnees in the form of Mark and Abi. They had however been the regroup's sitting ducks and therefore returned to the tune of a down down, along with Cheesepot who got the hounds' leads tangled in stile at the outset and the human half-avalanche Happy Hooker.
ON ON ON: A barbecue with something for all; just as well since Bogs and non-Bogs of every generation poured in. Just a taster – garden skittles competitions, some delicious punch well above its weight, as much salad as meat and desserts that just had to be home made, they tasted that good. Second helpings please!
Run Number 250, 3rd August 2011.
The Phoenix Bar, Portishead.
HARES: Limpet, Dungeon Dragons & Flour Power.
WHO: 26 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: On an evening featuring the welcome return of Mr Summer, 23 innocent hashers circled up for a”warmup” outside the Phoenix and found themselves ambushed by a trio of squatting hares armed to the buck teeth with water pistols. Not content with this mischief, symbols were then demonstrated with the offensive weapons and a non-hash-hound decided to stir things up by barking "On On” the wrong way. After passing the medical centre (not needed today), we then barked up the right bush and a hay-ridden riverbank before making rare use of a traffic light en masse. Desperate to restore disorder, the runners then got lost for about thirty seconds and instigated a game of catch with the by-now-adjacent walkers. Playgrounds and (wait for it) Trinity Anglican Methodist Primary School had been the scenery, a sweet stop with pear drops and jelly babies the reward. Shortly after we encountered the hares' ingenious and patent-pending N-ON symbol ("search each direction until you find a single blob” were the words of wisdom). The direction of said choice was towards Portbury Wharf Nature Reserve and a test for all the senses – the sights speak for themselves, the sound was of clicking crickets galore, bonfires were the evening's aroma, shiggy occasionally squelched underfoot, and on the self-service menu were ripe damsons in distress and not-quite-ripe blackberries. Inchworm thought we were going to fall off the edge of the world at one point, but a camouflaged country lane provided our respite, even if the frontrunners were sent the wrong way shortly afterwards. The latter had foolishly followed the smaller blobs of flour, though it did spare them a fish hook for 10 just prior to a bout of sheltered birdwatching by the South Pools. None were spared the dead end trap immediately after, though the deceit did then die down via a lengthy riverbank trail which preceded a walkers' shortcut. As had been forewarned, we were then in for a lot of doubling back on ourselves – there is only one road to Rome as far as Portishead is concerned. Likewise for a beer stop with green and red grapes, Orange Juice and Stella Artois, but most importantly a flour fight between junior and senior hashers alike (save the naming and shaming for another circle). Admittedly a long way from the pub, Limpet and Flour Power opted for the internal combustion engine from there onwards, leaving Dungeon Dragons to take plaudits aplenty for live-haring with Deep Throat-like grace. Just as well, since several boy racers at twilight (a lethal combo) needed to be negotiated. Not sure about the time taken, but the throng did arrive back all in 26 pieces.
ON ON ON: Refreshment preceded the circle this time, but could the pizza perfecto from our last Phoenix visit be beaten? Er, do Bogs have a running problem? This time the fabulous menu was again shipped in – battered sausage, nuggets, fried mushrooms and chips galore (you can guess the kind of eatery where they came from). Allowing outside food may be the Phoenix's subtle way of endearing itself to us – we certainly seemed to be on the way towards drinking the bar dry, time will tell...
CIRCLE: Too much fun and food for a crime and stats circle – no less than six sitters at the sweet stop had no case to answer, then. Time simply had to be found though to assemble indoors and congratulate 100-hash-old Bag Lady, who no doubt will have a splendid shindig waiting for us on Saturday. Watch this space for revival of Saturday numbers...
Run Number 249, 27th July 2011.

The Pelican, Chew Magna.
HARES: Brigadoon, Turbo & Fat Controller.
WHO: 34 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: An evening of Bogs mixed with the Kennet & Avon Hash House Harriers beckoned, meeting midway between the two superpowers in chirpy Chew Magna for good measure. A 20th birthday for the Kennet & Avon-ers was the special occasion, markings using yellow poster paint the special treatment (Lucky the Bogs hound still seemed to find the paint tasty though). After the walkers and runners spent precisely 1 minute apart via a graveyard, we trooped past the local cricket pitch and out into rurality. To begin with we were uncomfortably green thanks to a false call of "On On” and a long runners' haul through reeds and plenty of hay – those runners who thought that was the last straw were sadly mistaken, as they still were tasked with herding some cows and heading the wrong side of a hedge before reaching a regroup with a view. Sort of back on track, Bridge Over The River Chew and "Dumpers Cottage” took us to a trail with many a felled tree, but no such hashers. The mistakes theme did continue, though, as 10 frontrunners again chose the wrong side of a hedge, attributable to another false On On. The walkers had to find their form presently, though, as the collectors' item that is a ford was encountered (the ones without wheels). Only Brigadoon waded/splashed through the 5 inch deep water; Eager Beaver resisted his namesake instinct to build a dam over it and chose to go round. A very well-stocked, reservoir-side beer stop then greeted all; common sense defines crisps, choccies, bath ale, cider and lemonade as junk food – hash sense defines it a Beer Feast! We could take our time too, with the supposedly truthful reassurance that the Pelican was a mere 10 minutes hash away. Enough time, then, to travel back up and down hill, over the river Chew again, and past an HSBC branch to the finish line; who'd have banked on that?
CIRCLE: Not one as such on this hybrid run; of utmost importance was the signing of a welcome back-was-get well card for the ever-brilliant returnee REWIND. The original plan to On Inn at the neighbouring Bear & Swan was shelved; now that's a crime Bogs would not normally let you forget! Could this be redeemed? Read on...
THE GOOD NEWS – Cakes Galore for the Kennet & Avon HHH's big 20. Yours truly was not alone in snaffling 3 slices; there really was that much to go around.
THE BAD NEWS – no pub sandwiches/crisps etc for the accustomed Bogs; we don't take them for granted though, do we?
THE UGLY NEWS – A crowded-out Pelican relegated us to the great outdoors once more for our cakes; several of us chose to go to the Bear & Swan for drinks after all.
THE VERDICT – no case to answer, since we got refreshments from the Bear & Swan anyway. Here's to hybrids, they're true blue...
Run Number 248, 20th July 2011.
Ship & Castle, Congresbury.
HARES: Walrus & Call Girl.
WHO: 30 hashers and 3 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Nice weather for ducks but as the downpour ceased we circled up for a warm up with the penguin dance. It was a trail with fish-hooks a plenty even a fish-hook 100 although numbers were high this was a bit hopefull. ON-ON was over the minellium bridge and along the shiggy banks of the river Yeo then a turn back to cross the Yeo at the weir. Through the back streets of congresbury to a regroup where we were joined by late comer Tumbling Ted. Down an alley and across a field to bridge the Yeo at Brigadoon's Spring swimming spot, then upstream and "over we Yeo again" as we head for Venus Street. After crossing the B3133 it was down Silver St and along pot hole alley where it is alleged some were engaged in spirited splashing. We reached The Strawberry Line decidedly soggy on the outside yet parched on the inside and still no sign of a beer stop. Along the edge of a rhyne to the church and down Broad Street to the on-inn where we were joined by Eager Beaver swelling our ranks to 31.
CIRCLE: Another combined beer-stop & down-down some people like this some don't. The hares were called into the circle among accusations of failure to use any flour, Walrus the birthday hare who wore a cake on his head was called in again for a rendition of "Hashy Birthday". Crimes included Brigadoon who didn't seem to have done anything and Ball Sport, Dungeons Dragon, Turbo, Flour Power (who had mysteriously dissapeared)and others who had splashed him back. We then welcomed two virgins to the fold.
ON INN: Sandwiches and tortilla chips for the hungry hashers in an elevated alcove, a fair selection on white and brown filled with chese, chicken, tuna or egg.
Run Number 247,13th July 2011.

Clear as mud.
Sing of sore butt checks,
No sign of any flour,
Four-and-twenty hashers,
got lost for half an hour
And when they found the beer stop
There wasn't any there.
So they all agreed to go On-Inn
And lynch the bloody hare!

W=> walkers this way.
The Woodborough Inn, Winscombe.
HARE: Cinderella.
WHO: 24 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: In a far out territory for Bogs on an evening with materialising arrows as its theme, there was trouble afoot as will be divulged. After assembling in the front was back car park and apparently listening to Cinderella's engaging debrief, we began with instinctive hashing as is our custom. An early T4 helped to keep order, as did one of the magic arrows, to the extent that hounds Daisy and Basil refrained from fighting the 3 non-hash hounds that were encountered in yonder field. This happened also to be where the runners went pleasingly downhill, at the inevitable price of hurdling several stiles and trudging back uphill through some dense reeds. A quick regroup then preceded crossing a main road that had quietened down specially for us (it certainly seemed to start roaring again once we were clear), however one area that remained sedate as we passed through it was the outskirts of Sidcot School – not even a runners' loop through a tree-mendous field could rouse external interest at this non-teaching hour. Motivation then carried us up a tarmac hill – a T3 carried us partly back down and into another of those freshly Cindered arrows. The demanded direction at least had the consolation of still being downhill, for it was a long, narrow trail of nettles, compost, low bridges and no room to overtake (basically every hash hazard except shiggy). The main road then returned to its slumber for our second crossing, and our logic was to proceed down a cul-de-sac. A fateful moment, for that was where it all began. Initially delight reigned as the walkers proceeded along the Strawberry Line, forever a hashers' favourite, with the runners apparently skirting it, but after a while of taking in the sounds of neighbouring rugby punts and the sights of one of North Somerset's directional beacons, the walkers declared themselves bereft of flour and order. Oh Calamity! Initially only the tail-ending Coppertone, Maggie and Eager Beaver were contactable, but eventually the combined rescue efforts of Turbo, REWIND and second timer Jeff prevailed and a walkers' paradise (or at least, lack of tragedy) came to be. One good side to this anarchy was that it stretched the route time to an orthodox 90 minutes, thankfully with no time added on for injuries as the pub beckoned along with sunset.
CIRCLE: Time was, however, added on for the walkers to help themselves to the extra refreshments of beer plus apple in solid and liquid form, since only the runners had attended the beer stop. Amid cries of conspiracy and accusations of a hare-brained trail, the grandmaster stepped up and amicably defended Cinderella's case: "You were told if you don't see flour for a while, you've gone the wrong way”. Cue a dirty dozen walkers into the circle/dock then, for the heinous offence of missing the beer stop. A welcome return also for Up Yours and hello to virgin Abi. As a descendant of Cheesepot, she will do very well to avoid imminently being christened "Babybel” as suggested by Brigadoon; alternatives on a postcard please...
ON ON ON: After attempting unsuccessfully to decipher the walkers' error with and without a map, we settled down to our own slightly elevated area. The obligatory chips arrived in souffle dishes to further raise our spirits, bringing with them excellent sandwiches on brown and white bread with plenty of tuna, cheese and tomato, ham and egg thrown in. You Winscombe, you lose some...
Run Number 246, 6th July 2011.
The Ship, Portishead.
HARES: Back Chat and Inchworm.
WHO: 19 plus 2 hash hounds.
RUN REPORT by this week's scribe, Call Girl: A cloudy wet evening kept the half-hearted away, although Cinders and Kerb Crawler were back after a tanning session on foreign shores.
Backchat had ensured the trail was legible by using brown flour, much healthier and sticks better - she says.
The pack hashed up and down, slippy steps caught Inchworm out who said he’d done the self-same thing day before! Not a quick learner then?
REWIND disappeared from view, fell into a hedge and got his hair brushed backwards!
Different routes for runners and walkers kept the groups apart, unless hashers misread the signs of course, or hares laid the wrong signs! All guilty!
Some lovely views over the channel, large ships passing in the night, with a sweety stop placed wisely just before the final ascent, for extra puff.
Paella’s bare legs slowed down when the nettles threatened and Turbo’s white hot pants were a fashionable muddy brown by the end.
DT lost the FRBs at the last turning, adding on even more miles!
CIRCLE: No circle this week as we covered a massive seven miles by accident and design.
ON IN: Big, friendly pub with great views and lots of sandwiches for lunch next day. Pork Scratchings sat aloof with his raft race team – GOOD LUCK on Sunday Pork Scratchings! And Coppertone and Bag Lady arrived to join in the nosebag.
Run Number 245, 29th June 2011.

The Prince's Motto, Barrow Gurney.
HARE: Rebore and Paella.
WHO: 26 plus 3 latecomers and 4 or 5 hash hounds.
RUN REPORT by this week's scribe, Call Girl: An exciting trail up and around the south of Bristol with some great views. Happy Hooker took an early fall, spilling blood on the grass, the FRBs went the wrong way and nettled themselves, much ow-ing and oo-ing coming from the front, before they realised their error.
DT, Cheesepot and Smacker arrived late, couldn’t see the trail but claimed to have spotted and heard us – due to a special hash horn being blown loudly by C Burster.
We ran through fields of corn (I can feel a song coming on) wheat, cows licking their new born calves and passed a former nunnery, now a private mansion, Barrow Court. What a beautiful summer’s evening entertainment!
Just before the BS, Push-Up mysteriously disappeared from the back of the runners; Rebore searched frantically in vain, rescue parties were scrambled, RAF Chivenor etc. just as she happily reappeared and joined the On In. Keep up Push-Up!
CIRCLE: Crimes included shortcutting, getting lost, falling over. Jenny and Ken were renamed Clanger and Batty. Lots of virgins and guests were welcomed, The Ellis family and friends en masse, Oliver, Helen, Caz, Holly, to name a few, C Burster from Zagreb and Jeff from Draycott. Also some hashers who claimed to know Rebore from the BH – HBK and someone who said he wasn’t Wolfie [Could be a double-bluff - Wolfie].
ON IN: Great food here, sandwiches and chips, lots of 6x and a very strong cider for hashers who like falling down. Brigadoon collected names for his camp at Puxton in September, see him for more info.
Run Number 244, Saturday 25th June 2011.
The Borough Arms, Weston-Super-Mare.
HARES: Brigadoon & Chelsea (Virgin hasher and virgin hare!)
WHO: A better turnout (10) for this Saturday hash. Ballsport and Brigadoon plus families; Dropem, Turbo, DT, Skidmark, Cowslip and friend Jess (another virgin). Also, latecomer Eager Beaver (we never actually saw him but he left a note with the barmaid).
RUN REPORT (by guest Scribe, DT): A thoroughly urban hash touring parts of Weston that your scribe had never seen before. Front-runners Jess, Cowslip and DT managed to check out all the false trails between them. This hash was remarkable for not a single fishhook but the walkers had no difficulty keeping up. All concerned were delighted by the cider and sausage stop at Brigadoon's castle, where the younger hashers expended more energy on the trampoline. Fortunately there was no Health and Safety inspector present. After the stop the hash entered a new dimension, passing through a locked gate into a wonderland of allotments which eventually delivered us back to the Borough Arms for much-needed refreshment.
No circle, so the many sins will have to go forever unpunished, and on this occasion no sandwiches either. Also no Hash Cash present, so hash dues from Ballsport, Dropem, Turbo and DT are yet to be collected.
Run Number 243, 22nd June 2011
WHERE:The Old Inn, Clevedon.
HARES: Jenny and Ken.
RUN REPORT: The days are now getting shorter again, but the Bogs are growing quarter on quarter. This assumed record turnout for hounds and hashers began with a warmup in the form of firstly parking cars like sardines and then a to and fro hoki-coki. Fears about the flour being watered down overnight were largely unfounded, though right from the off there were speed splits in the camp; the runners circumnavigated All Saints School and then took in a group directional debrief on the outskirts of Court Woods. Bedlam still reigned in Clevedon's signature woodland, though. First there was Pork Scratchings temporarily missing a runners' route due to corner-cutting, next there was a no-doubt well planned R2 for the runners that never came to fruition (we were meant to double back, or something), followed by Kerb Crawler taking a presumably harmless tumble and even Deep Throat needing to cut across at one point. Just as the runners deemed themselves lost, a band of walkers (and thankfully hares) mowed them down and the directional delirium departed us. The fun and games most certainly did not. Once out into the greenery and sunshine, Pork Scratchings and Inchworm poised atop a tree stump and pretended to be meerkats (youcan'tcomparethem.com), and then the roar of the M5 was quickly dismissed in favour of a shiggy skidpan of a downhill. The reward for this dastardly descent was a submerged sweet stop symbol out on tarmac – the sustenance comprised fruit pastilles and liquorice allsorts (a.k.a. hashers). Rejuvenation preceded horseplay as Flour Power took us to see her other charming four-legged friends, idling nearby. No idling down Moor Lane leading to Walton-in-Gordano, though, as both a backwards fish hook and a fish hook for all kept up the speed (Eager Beaver and latecomer Big Stick appeared to be treating the long lane as a runway, though obviously not a raceway). Some pleasant sights though were still to be taken in – frolicking calves less than a month old to our left, Gordano Valley Nature Reserve to our right. After hashing respectfully quietly through a graveyard during choir practice, Clevedon Golf Club and its slopes beckoned. Straying in front of the odd person shouting "fore” was the least of the hazards, though – instead there was a wasp nest by a gate that gave proceedings a real buzz, though a lovely view stretching out to the Old Severn Bridge did compensate for the odd couple who found there was a sting in the tail. Back within civilisation, the rest was just Dial as we sauntered along said Hill and down a path known as "the ripple” which borders Clevedon Comprehensive School – the proof being the obscene graffiti that greeted us at the bottom. We then grovelled our way along a gravel track towards the beer stop (REWIND and Flour Power failing to resist the lure of some swings en route), taking no time at all to tuck into carrot sticks, grapes, cheese pastries, orange juice and beer. The real feast, however, was a trip up the neighbouring bell tower for those who do not suffer from acrophobia (look that one up). As debut hares, Jenny and Ken have got bells on! It was all just in time, too, for an On In that matched the walkers' On Out at sunset, as the bell went for the end of 2 and a quarter hours' playtime.
CIRCLE: Not this time due to time constraints, though crimes had certainly been in abundance and there were at least 2 virgins keen to "go all the way” with us. Rollover stats for next week...
ON ON ON: In amongst poor Brigadoon's many struggles to raise enthusiasm for this coming Saturday's Westonian hash, there was the popular culinary layout of 2 big trays of chips, sausage rolls and brown and white sandwiches – cheese and pickle, ham and tomato, tuna and egg were the just-about finished fillings. About time we had an eating problem, to go with our running and drinking...
Run Number 242, 15th June 2011.

The Black Horse, Clapton in Gordano.
HARE: Pork Scratchings.
WHO: 23 hashers and 3 hounds.
RUN REPORT: A slightly nervy hash, since Brigadoon turned up in a kilt and we were promised a "lunar eclipse” between 9 and 10pm; thankfully, the only nude species throughout had 4 legs. Self-warmups were followed by echoing calls of "On On” as we tunnelled under the M5 and passed the site of the 1924 Coin Horde (thanks to REWIND for that bit of research). A couple of excitable equines then herded us up in the direction of Cadbury Camp, to the tune/sight of a fake WWII Bomb and 2 fields worth of sheep shiggy. 6 hooked frontrunners later, we found nothing fishy about a down 'n' up detour that took us out onto Cadbury Camp Lane, except for the audible protests of 2 non-hash German Shepherds (and their dogs). The lane through Cadbury Camp, for all its lack of shiggy, did provide a nice long, flat respite for tailenders and 6 more "hookers” alike on this subterranean trail. The lane ended with a descent back into the bracken and a small bit of route splitting – perfectly excusable on an evening when runners and walkers were supposedly stuck with one another. The sweet stop then beckoned in the best of locations – on a bridge spanning the roaring beast that is the M5; wine gums and fruit pastilles were taken in along with the Somerset-spanning views and many an encouraging honk from motorists below. The narrow and downward-sloping bridge played tricks with a few bog minds, but we all made it across safely and found ourselves on the hound-friendly route that is the Clapton Circuit. It shall be so called because 4 doggy flaps were provided at stiles so as to make helping heaves for Basil, Lucky and Daisy unnecessary. The circuit took us via a farmyard onto Clevedon Lane and a Beer Near pointing uphill, as was the evening's great trend. At said stop we shared out a nutritious smorgasbord of lager, orange juice, carrots, tomatoes and traffic light peppers, and to accommodate a late-ish start we circled up – see below:
CIRCLE: A pretty clean bill of behaviour, save for Brigadoon talking in the circle, REWIND carrying an offensive weapon (scissors), Call Girl bending in the circle a lot and Lucky actually being banished from the circle for yet again picking a fight with Daisy. The evening's returnees were Whopper, Bottle It and Paella, with the latter also celebrating 2 years of bogging, which was noted as twice as long as Limpet. Double figures also for Jean – she should get a handle soon...
ON ON ON: For the On In we trusted our sense of direction rather than check out a checkpoint; even more amazingly we were all correct as we trundled downhill and settled ourselves astride the Black Horse. An outside platter with a smartly dressed Deep Throat in attendance was on the cards – chips, crisps and cheese and ham sandwiches on multicoloured bread were as popular as could be expected. Eager Beaver also produced his promised and much anticipated Ben Nevis video diary – not to suggest it was more engaging than the average hash, of course. The lunar eclipse did sort of occur as we departed, though being a Bog of Somerset surely does light up your life.

Run Number 241, 8th June 2011.
The Old Barn, Wraxall.
RUN REPORT: The Welsh Cym pronounced coom is a bowl shaped valley one of the most famous being the Western Cym on Everest named by Mallory. Even though snow covered and above 6,000 metres the temperatures can be an uncomfortable 35 degsC. It was similar on one trial run of the Barn's route when the Hares were glad to reach the cool of the woods above Wraxhall. Having hashed Bourton Combe and Goblin Combe run 240 was the third of the Combe series (stat to be confirmed by Walkie Talky). Starting by the mobile phone mast above the car park of Tyntesfield we ran up one side. The crossover feature was specially for the morris dancers. Sadly the shower feature that everyone should have been funnelled through got missed out; the farmer is in for a high water bill. Subject to confirmation by WT this was the first Bogs hash to start from the back of the pub and return to the front.
Thanks to the superb back marking DCell and later BigStik caught up with us.
The base route designed by Hooker was 6.5km reaching the combined beer stop and down-down near to the Barn at 21:15.
Hooker must also be credited for supplying strawbs, oranges and other goodies(??)
A low branch was incorporated specially for PS but he turned up too late and in unsuitable attire to do such things.
Brig in more suitable attire couldn't be seen in the woods.
Additional note. Whopper, part of the Bogs mismanagement team, (we haven't seen you since New Zealand; come hashing and tell us what you've been doing. - you've been missed - Hash Concern) has adapted her chimney to look like a mushroom.
Run Number 240, 1st June 2011.
The Star Inn, Tickenham.
HARES: Walrus and Call Girl.
WHO: 31 hashers, 5 hounds and 3 latecomers.
RUN REPORT: Preceded by unofficial Saturday run, 2011’s June watershed saw another high turnout for a hash of mixed altitude. After being directed to the On Out by the hares as a warmup, we proceeded along a familiar, though always enjoyable, riverbank route - the fish hook for 6 was on the bank though, not in the river. Not content with this "hazard”, an enormous mound of bovine shiggy then beckoned - only Deep Throat, REWIND and Tumbling Ted appeared to obey the flour and actually scale it. This was the cue for that "lovely country smell” in yonder fields, plus the unfortunate retirement of limping hound Basil and his human-on-a-lead, Ken. Two more hooks and a T4 then preceded encouragement from watching junior trampolinists - how our fame has spread! After winning a staring contest with a gang of cows across the stream, our next challenger was a sort-of-climb up to Cadbury Camp Battlements. En route a fish hook for 6 on a narrow path caused a pile-up and a runners’ loop entertained its participants; the latter was but a warmup though for the runners’ next adventure - a Kilimanjaro of a climb which even Turbo slowed down significantly for - great views of Tickenham were the inevitable reward. Once regrouped at Cadbury Camp peak, we stocked up on Mr Men sweets and then obeyed both gravity and hashing traditions - the frontrunners had to negotiate a turnback and a fish hook for 8 during the descent. Most of us regained our bearings when we saw Tickenham Golf Club in the distance - most being the operative word, since the posse then split and followed 2 trails ‘round Rowntrees Garden Centre. On a busy evening, the circle up was then combined with the beer stop (see below).
CIRCLE: Strawberries, cider and apple juice lasted as long as expected among a dehydrated group of Bogs and heavily panting hound Pushover. The route’s short-cutters were Lou, Turbo and Deep Throat, and their partners in crime were the sitting Coppertone and the headwear-donning Dungeons ‘n’ Dragons. Turbo also drank to his 50th run and Eager Beaver to a year of bogging - where does the time go?! Among the plaudits also were two virgins - Gillian from Farmouth (persuaded nicely by Kevin) and Claire, who saw us hashing last time and was jealous. Our recruitment ploy is working!
ON ON ON: 200 metres of the trail remained, but we still divided our choices among a field of tall, wet grass and a road which is never quiet for long - the former just won out in numbers. Once under the roof of the Star, a fine selection of cheese, tuna, ham sandwiches plus chips and crisps were savoured, but not saved. We also gratefully helped Flour Power demolish her birthday cake; in particular Eager Beaver who showed mercy by only beating her 5-1 at table football. Growing up is about as fun as not hashing...
Run Number 239, Saturday, 28th May 2011.
The Old Inn, Main Road, Hutton, Weston-Super-Mare.
HARES: Brigadoon & Turbo.
WHO: Ballsport, Limpit, Flour Power & Lucky, DT.
RUN REPORT (by guest Scribe, DT): This trail was notable for its fine views and its 10 (yes ten) fishhooks numbered 1 to 10 but in random order. Walrus got the prize for fishing, but even he managed only nine of them (though some he ran more than once). The hash started off up hill (as all Hutton hashes must) and ended downhill. in between we had a fine run along the ridge in breezy weather. In fact without the cooling gale we might have got hot. To reach the beer stop we had to cross a new golf course but the beer stop when we reached it was worth the trek, with a magnificent view across S.Weston, Uphill, Brean Down and across the levels as far as distant Brent Knoll.
Misleading Beer Near signs (at least six): Turbo.
The beer stop produced most of the hash misdemeanours:
Sitting: Limpit, Flour Power, Turbo and Ballsport;
Hogging the bottle opener: Flour Power;
Spraying Limpit with beer: DT.
After the beer stop we hashed back across the golf course on a compass bearing to rediscover the delights of that narrow combe which descends through 50yards of head-high nettles and brambles before becoming a civilised path. (Brigadoon turned up at this point with thick yellow waterproof trousers - another down-down) before descending to the welcoming pub, the circle and a good heap of food.
Run number 238, 25th May 2011.

Lord Nelson in Cleeve.
WHO: 28 and 4 hash hounds.
RUN REPORT: This was a coffin-shaped hash all around Goblin Combe, (ask REWIND for maps and OS details) filled with adventure and magic.
On a bright and dry evening, Hashers waded through long grassy meadows full of Leucanthemum vulgare v. common and many other wild flowers. Lucky almost sank in a dried up shiggy corner and a herd of bullocks rushed to avoid us, phew! A horse whisperer shouted at us to stand still; no one did. Pork Scratchings used a regroup on a busy road to note crimes, worrying speeding drivers. Fish hooks caught everyone out and kept those at the back at the front for a change. The first view point hadn’t been finished, some trees had been taken down, but REWIND must have run out of time. We came across a full Wishing Well; it had fulfilled all its wishes. Bag Lady and Deepthroat read out a Government Health Warning: "Don’t pick the primroses or the Goblins will get you!” Walrus fell over, but no hashers were lost, despite a steep drop, although Cinders had to form a rescue party to seek out hashers for the Beer Stop, featuring a pear cider by Aldi.
CIRCLE: Coco was named Smackher, after smacking into a tree and hugging it. And a record 5 virgins were welcomed to the hash - something in the air tonight?
ON IN: Huge pub, chip butties and a sing to Turbo who is 19 years young on 27th May – a present from the hash? Detox Spring water or AA membership? Team Brigadoon collected sponsors for their marathon walk over the Mendips for Weston Hospice.
Run number 237, 18th May 2011.
The Failand Inn, Clevedon Road, Failand.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 22 plus 1 very latecomer and 2 hash hounds.
RUN REPORT by this week's Scribe, Call Girl: A fabulous fun run with some long stretches, taking us out around Failand towards Portbury, even the Severn Chanel could be seen in the distance. After skirting the locals playing cricket, which REWIND found electrifying, he led the runners off, completely missing a trail, through the rape. Alpacas (or llamas, depending on how much Spring Watch you had seen) were spotted along the way to the Beer Stop. At this point, Pork Scratchings magically appeared, pretending to have run the whole lot to catch up with us! Turnbacks, fishhooks and silly cows, kept the FRBs in check, Rearender was noticeably in front at times, (what is she like?) and Flour Power and Rebore competed on the kids’ swing to see who could scream the loudest.
CIRCLE: Crimes included shortcutting, sitting down and missing a checkpoint and Brigadoon announced he was having a barbecue this Saturday.
ON IN: This is a big pub, lots of parking, very generous with the chips and baguettes. (Sorry, Bag Lady, Coppertone and self thought everyone got their own bowl!)
DT arrived in time to join in the feast, who wouldn’t?
Run number 236, 11th May 2011.

Gordano Rugby Club, Portbury.
HARES: Coppertone and Carmel.
WHO: 32 hashers and 5 hounds – hear hear!
RUN REPORT: What better way to shelter on a blustery evening than in amongst the throngs of bluebells in said woods? Well, after declining a warmup from the toga-adorned Coppertone, we began with a flour-less mystery tour for at least 100 metres – a laudable approach from the hares, though, since we had to hash in that direction and it would have given too much away to drivers. Once up in the woods that many of us foresaw, the undergrowth was made good use of, as were a fielded turnback and two hooks for 6, even if Tumbling Ted had to prematurely retire through injury. No substitutes are allowed, so all the best and get well soon. If we were motivated to put in a good performance for the departed, it did not show quite yet as virtually everyone then missed a blob leading left into the still-just-about-flourishing bluebells. This was followed by many a near-slip as we slalomed down to the photographic checkpoint; bluebells are very slippery underfoot, according to our many botanists. We then found ourselves in the rear of Wraxall, passing the children's hospice and the grounds of the Downs' School en route; a nettle tunnel at this point seemed as inevitable as the accompanying hook for 6, though the adventurous among us (i.e. everyone) must have liked following that up with making our own sort-of crop circle and choosing between a short and long cut – the latter was about 5 metres longer. As darkness descended, so did we – the kick start was an excellently timed beer stop featuring cider, cranberry and apple juice, oranges and Bag Lady's delicious home-made cinnamon and apple cakes. Back down in the woods, we passed by the UK equivalent of Giant Redwoods and had to largely resort to single file – especially over a rickety bridge with a hole hazardous to the impressive hound turnout. What goes down must go up on Coppertone's trails, though, the proof being one more mountain prior to an On In past some fenced off horses and the same road as the On Out. See you next year, bluebells!
CIRCLE: These have not been clean for a while now – Turbo's hiding of a hook was deemed more serious than his use of a bench (even though he did the latter right under the nose of the scribe), virgin Jippo was only given a lukewarm welcome due to ignoring the beer stop, Carmel it seemed had not been very co-harent while setting the trail, Brigadoon and Rebore rabbited over the hares and Limpet and Sweet Chocks had sat down to stop for their beer. As a Bristol Greyhound, Jippo was also given a Bogs welcome and Paella was crowned a quarter-centurion. That toga can only be a few years away now, then...
ON ON ON: By this hour the rugby club was nice and roomy, and our stomachs just about had room themselves for a cascade of chips and brown and white sandwiches – ham, egg, corned beef and tuna contained therein. Hopefully, despite the location, not even casualty Tumbling Ted will be feeling blue after tonight...
Run Number 235, Saturday 7th May 2011.
Woodington Road, Clevedon.
HARES: Pushup and Deep Throat.
WHO: 9 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: The fate of the markings was feared for on this Saturday trail starting out from Pushup's abode, so logically we...er...warmed up with a rain dance, and also were presented with a live hare much of the way through. After passing by a suburban maze and our local AV polling station (a.k.a. Mary Elton Primary School), we then took to the river bank and discovered a T4 and a golf ball in our path; Pushup elected to keep the latter and evade the former. After regrouping, we then headed towards the ever popular hashing territory that is Poet's Walk, even if Pushup had to lead about half of us astray en route. The approach to it was via a footbridge and the graveyard, and inevitably once we were above most of Clevedon, the fun and games began in earnest. First Eager Beaver distinctly heard "On On” and "Are You” shouted by some non-hashers (he is still wondering now whether he should have obeyed them), next was the turn of a VP ES symbol for Viewpoint East Sunday – the subject matter being three crosses, possibly for the deceased bluebells underneath them. Also on the Poet's agenda was returnee Coppertone being led astray by too many blobs down a false trail, the leading duo ignoring a fish hook for 3 and the rain deciding to hit us hard when bereft of shelter. A price worth paying, of course, for a "ginger stop” overlooking the Severn Estuary.. Back at sea level, Clevedon's miniature dock passed us by prior to one helluva walker/runner split: the runners consisting of Pushup and Eager Beaver alone laboured around the outskirts of the golf club and back again; Bottle It would have joined them, but he bottled it in favour of having more company. Both troops then On-In-ed in the same general direction as the On Out, though the walkers could have had 5 down-downs in the time it took their brethren to return. And not just of regular drinks, as we shall see below...
CIRCLE: Welcome returns were down-downed for Coppertone and Bag Lady, incidentally with delicious fruit punch that they had supplied. To make up for their reappearance, REWIND and Henry had disappeared mid-trail, naturally for worthy causes. The hook-evading duo from earlier were Bag Lady and Bottle it, and up on Poet's Walk Happy Hooker and Pushup had used a bench for the right/wrong purpose. Including "hares on a mountain”, that left only one participant who had not been into the circle, to the tune of "he's a scribe, true and true”. Never a dull moment!
ON ON ON: Deep Throat has official rivalry now from Pushup when it comes to putting on a good hash bash; the usual barbecue suspects were accompanied by the aforementioned punch, "Perfect Rice” as we call it and couscous salad 'cos we love it, as well as some post-Easter goodies from several non-bogs and the appearing Walrus and Call Girl. Bottle It also gave a very assured performance as head of the BBQ; it runs in the family then. Much praise and thanks to the Pushup household – we now expect this standard from you every time!
Run Number 234, 4th May 2011.
The White Lion, Silver Street, Nailsea.
HARE: Cinderella.
WHO: 25 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: When hashing near dangerous drops, May the 4th be with you! Cinderella duly informed us of warning triangles to suit on a trail with no fish hooks but what had to be a record number of walker/runner splits to compensate. After on-outing via the suburbs and a T5, we sped through some knee-deep grass and under a couple of pilons just to give proceedings a real buzz, with the runners completing a home run around a field in the process.. Two regroups then sandwiched a sloping, sheepish field, and then came an ascent of Tickenham Hill where several runners were guilty of reckless overtaking. "Punishment” was an extended ascent while the walkers descended into Towerhouse Wood. Under the trees we found this year’s batch of bluebells to already be in their death throes owing to the hot weather; however the evening’s entertainment was only just beginning to flower - the woods provided the backdrop for a Tumbling Ted shortcut, a runners’ loop while the walkers stayed put, a largely ignored viewpoint and a tyre swing that Brigadoon simply could not ignore. Us gals and geezers also regrouped by a geyser before returning to civilisation by scaling the heights marked with one of those aforementioned warning triangles, and then skirting a fishing lake at different speeds. The catch of the day, though, followed soon after in the form of a beer stop that had no sweet equivalent; on the menu there were apples, apple juice, beer and a huddled group photo. Cinderella warned there was "still a way to go yet”, though even he could not have foreseen two particular events during the On In: First we all resisted using a zip wire, and secondly nearly half the troop lost their way near the finish [alright, maybe that wasn’t so unforeseen] and placed their faith in Pork Scratching’s phone to "recalculate”. The aroma of fish and chips which we knew was just along from the White Lion duly hit our noses, so our faith in technology was justified.
CIRCLE: This trail premiered to mixed reviews - "too dry” and "superb markings” among them. There was a also a mixed bag of crimes - Brigadoon was too "tyred” to behave himself, Tumbling Ted’s shortcut was made note of, Limpet and Call Girl came forward for telling on others and REWIND had sat down on the swing featured on the website homepage. As well as giving a warm welcome to Bogs virgin Nelson of Gloucestershire hash fame, some free advertising space was also given to the 10/20/30 mile Mendip Challenge for Weston Hospice in June. We probably won’t be able to hash it, though...
ON ON ON: We had the pub mostly to ourselves, complimented by an excellent spread of Wotsits, Frisps, brown bread sarnies and hefty rolls - Ham, Cheese & Red onion and Ham & Mustard were the fillings. On On for barbecue season!
Run number 233, 27 April 2011.
The Old Inn, Clevedon.
HARE: Deep Throat.
WHO: 21 hashers and 3 hash hounds.
RUN REPORT by this week's scribe, Call Girl: This was a classic DT hash, with turn backs, checkpoints and fishhooks aplenty through Clevedon woods on a beautiful sunny evening. No need for torches, just sure footedness as we climbed up and slithered down the slopes.
Brigadoon pulled off his trousers at one checkpoint, (not sure what he was checking for, and more to the point, did he find it?) and Flour Power mistakenly went off with the runners; much cursing ensued. Rebore took a dive, but declined CPR from REWIND on the grounds he hadn’t shaved.
CIRCLE: Crimes included Turbo missing a fishhook, Tumbling Ted getting medical with Flour Power, REWIND for lying down on the hash and misleading the hash.
Walrus was congratulated for having done 50 hashes, Rebore and Limpit for doing 5 hashes in 5 days!! What are they on?
ON IN: The New Inn is a big pub inside and out with many areas to relax. Hashers sat outside with platters of chips and sandwiches, enjoying lots of beer; what more could you want?
Run Number 232, 23rd April 2011.

The Old Inn, Congresbury.
HARE: Happy Hooker.
WHO: 11 hashers plus hound Pushover.
RUN REPORT: To those who live under a rock, it has been a gloriously sunny April. For this afternoon St George's Day hash the temperature scale had shifted from lukewarm to hot, with Brigadoon armed with water pistols and acting like a real squirt throughout, to boot. Naturally no warmup was necessary, as we on-outed via a narrow riverbank, a graveyard and several hundred nettles onto the much-famed strawberry line. Actual bikers on this cycle route were surprisingly sporadic, though the same could not be said for scenery as we stopped for a viewpoint by Congresbury Station Reedbed and Brigadoon temporarily tested his vertigo on a neighbouring wall just prior to a regroup. After scrambling up a roadside verge we then poised for a river-spanning group photo, with Cinderella using the railings to continue the "behind bars” photo theme. A photo finish would also have been welcome for deciding if the runners then beat the walkers to the next regroup - not to suggest we were racing, of course. At this mini-finishing line the delight of a strawberry stop greeted us, albeit without tennis or cream; that will have to wait 2 months. We then proceeded strawberry-line-ward into a fish hook for 6 and then into bovine territory – the heat, however, appeared to have made them tranquil. Shortly after, Eager Beaver had the slight misfortune to swallow a flying insect – possibly the price to pay for not getting caught on fish hooks for 6 and 4 in close proximity to Cadbury Garden Centre [it really should just be called "Cadbury Centre” these days]. A real watershed then occurred after rejoining the main road via the opposite side of the riverbank as before – 11 hashers making active use of a traffic light! It made much more sense to make use of our mouths afterwards, though, as we set about slaying the dragonfruit, oranges, apple juice and cider provided by Happy Hooker at a beer stop in a stone circle-not-quite-henge. Duly rejuvenated, 2 ways were chosen past a playground to the next regroup, followed closely by the delight of a supplementary Easter stop – dark and white Lindors and mini eggs were distributed, perhaps not evenly. We thought that Brigadoon then refilling the water pistols from the river would make all the headlines; how wrong we were. The inspiration having been provided by Pushover's mere doggy paddle, Brigadoon leapt heroically into the river to save...no-one. He just wanted to do what we were all thinking of doing! One shake-dry later, we still found time to mark a checkpoint the wrong way and play on yet another zip wire. Here the big kids were Walky Talky, debutant Eager Beaver, Skidmark, Kerb Crawler and Lois; the latter was making her second Bogs appearance in 3 years, so technically she has been going a lot longer than most of us. After squeezing all of that into 1 hour and 50 minutes, we were all in need of a pub!
CIRCLE Sorry, rectangle – see below:
Outdoors, of course. Our 11 dehydrated bodies pulled up a couple of benches for a sunshine snack of cheese and red onion or ham and tomato rolls, and in this board meeting we duly noted 2 and 10 hashes for Lois and Skidmark respectively, while also criticising this offence-less run as "too sweet”. This was all in amongst the England flag-bedecked pub that was the Old Inn, so On On for next Wednesday's Clevedonian namesake!
Run Number 231, 20th April 2011.

WHERE: The Drum and Monkey, Kenn.
HARES: Brigadoon and Cowslip.
WHO: 19 hashers plus hound Pushover.
RUN REPORT: This evening gone by, there was but a prophecy – a prophecy of a heavy shower at 2023 hours from wannabe weatherman Pork Scratchings. But would it come to pass on an evening of seemingly little cloud? We appropriately monkeyed around at the start with Brigadoon in the stocks outside and Lou teleporting in after mistakenly going to rival local the Moon and Sixpence. Inevitably we had to exit Kenn for part of this trail, obligingly via two yards of the grave and the farm variety. One aptly placed fish hook for 2 on a bridge over a stream later, the throng ran and walked rings around Hand Stadium, with the walkers defying the odds by still encountering a moving vehicle on a road with 3 residences. With the exception of the retiring Lou for a BBQ, we all spanned the M5 and dashed into the undergrowth as Pork Scratching's prophecy came true...well, sort of. The only thing wetted by the few spots of rain that did fall was our appetite as we then dashed across a Clevedonian field and regrouped at a crossroads. Not a moment too soon, either, as the walker's maze that is Tutton Way now beckoned – several runners skipped an arrow on the way through, despite Eager Beaver playing "fetch” with them; a case for the once-suggested "Roundup” symbol if ever there was one. Punishment, however, was dished out on the trail as the runners found they had looped round and had to do one 300 metre stretch twice. The moat around Clevedon was then crossed as a prelude to a Haribo stop and a curious crossroads. The way on was seemingly confirmed by a fish hook for 4 and a T2 next to a mysterious underwater light; this was not that of the car containing the goodies, though, for the beer stop then emerged in a neighbouring field, emphasised by Cowslip's "BVN” symbol (if you can't work that one out, you're not a Bog). Brigadoon here delivered the high standards we associate with him, namely pepperami, orange segments, pink grapefruit, mango juice and alcohol. Upon resuming, though, a dangerous precedent was set in the form of a "Fake False”; acceptable here though as re-routing can be taxing in Clevedon. Wading through a field of shin-deep grass also verged on the unexpected; finding an abandoned trolley nearby not so. On Ins have been a slow affair lately, but tonight served up an exception with a steady jog past the car showroom and over the M5 again to the Mum's a Drunky, as I think it should be called. Only Cinderella paid attention to a near-finishing-line hook for 6, though; you can't plead everybody.
CIRCLE: A very encouraging co-hare debut from junior hasher Cowslip was duly down-downed, even if the executive opinion was that this was a trail "not devious enough”. Pork Scratchings was also deemed not good enough at predicting the weather; this may have been the cause of Turbo, Cinderella and REWIND getting lost/shortcutting in the "Bermuda Triangle” that was Tutton Way. Plenty to commemorate, as well, namely a year of bogging for Ball Sport, Drop Em and Turbo, double figures for Cowslip and half a century for Call Girl. Obviously we all keep coming back for a good reason.
ON ON ON: Thanks to our volume, the Drum's pub quiz-mistress resorted to very slow repeats of every question – hopefully it didn't go on all night. We, meanwhile, resorted to tucking into brown and white tuna, cream cheese and ham sandwiches and plenty of crisps to share, while in the Drum's new-ish conservatory with the curtains drawn. This compromise for privacy, along with the business generated, I am sure will have endeared us to them. There can't be many non-bogged pubs left now...
Run Number 230, 13th April 2011
WHERE: Anchor Inn, Ham Green, Pill.
HARES: Limpet, Flour Power and Brigadoon.
WHO: 20 hashers and 3 hounds.
RUN REPORT: It seems that play stops rain. Within minutes of a knees up warmup, the day's persistent precipitation eased off, though not before the runners had on-outed appropriately over a cricket field and a fish hook for 4 nestled in some nettles. After regrouping and allowing late-ish Deep Throat to catch up in amongst some shiggy-free fields, Brigadoon and Lucky upped the tempo by limboing under a barbed wire fence and eating grass respectively (I think that's the right way round). However, hash respect was duly demanded for 2 equine fields and a dodecahedral "reseeded” area not for hashers' boots. One crossing of a not-particularly-busy road later, we were gaining altitude so fast that a faded fishhook laid the day before was ignored – though not so the next one for 4 feisty frontrunners. The woods then showed their true colours...er, smells as the splendid aroma of wild garlic filled the air while still ascending an increasingly shiggy hill. What followed was a respite out on tarmac and a regroup next to a skip; everyone then pretended they hadn't seen a hare hopping off in a different direction and instead marched into a turnback. On the other side of the main road after a game of splashing instigated by Turbo, another brief speed split preceded a Beer Stop next to a zip wire and a swing for all ages – enough fun was had by all to make the considerable menu of fruit juice, lager, apple, pear, dried fruit and dates seem a secondary concern. While negotiating the streets of Pill soon after, we had the rare luxury of passing some youths who had words of encouragement and nothing else – one of them was even considering tagging along for about 5 seconds. Talking of luxuries, a regroup under Pill viaduct and views of the harbour preceded a sweet stop with the Avon Bridge in view. While the hashers clamoured for jelly babies, fruit pastilles and pear drops, hounds Lucky and Basil briefly fought it out over the flour symbol – the good example was set by placid Pushover. As though swayed by this, disorder then dominated the hashers' On In, as at least 3 different ways back to the pub were chosen. We were all anchored down in the end, though...
CIRCLE: 4 years of hashing with the Bogs befits few better than Cinderella, and the circle up duly noted this along with Jenny and Ken's run totals now entering double figures. Wrong-routers included Walrus, Cinderella himself, Walky Talky and junior hasher Cowslip; the latter had come well equipped with possibly the Bogs' brightest ever light. Turbo found it was not so bright to sit down at a regroup; some Bogs just love attention.
ON ON ON: After a brief struggle to find our space alongside a slightly draughty skittle alley, gluttony tried but failed to reign as many pork pie slices, 2 bowls of chips, a tray of quiche slices and multicoloured sandwiches were shared out. A fair few were taken home for recycling, and announcements were also made for a bacon butty BBQ on April 30th – we are now on a winning streak!
Run number 229, 6th April 2011.

WHERE: The Phoenix, Victoria Square, Portishead.
HARES: Flour Power & Cinderella.
WHO: 27 Hashers, complimented by hounds Lucky, Daisy and Pushover.
RUN REPORT: The drinking/running group was out in force on a gorgeous Summer evening, even if we had to wait at the starting blocks for the delivery of mid-trail flour, plus have our hoki-coki "warmup” interrupted by a stranger with 4 wheels. After skirting the nearby health centre which we need not make use of, hound Pushover played cat and mouse with an approaching car - just as well we were hashing against traffic and trying to make use of the pavement. Equally welcome was a regroup after the runners had crossed a river twice and been encouraged by some scamps to sprint back towards the walkers - only Eager Beaver took this advice/command seriously. After negotiating a playground or 3, we moved on to that dockside estate which seems to have doubled Portishead’s size in the last few years. Not before Cinderella prematurely solved a checkpoint and Pushover posed for a photo atop a rock, of course. En route we encountered the same stake slalom from run 216, followed by a lovely viewpoint stretching out to the Bristol Channel and a beer stop as darkness descended. This was undertaken at Flour Power’s abode and included strawberries, grapes, beer and fruit juice, plus an unfortunate dogfight - the still learning Daisy showed a little too much enthusiasm for veteran Lucky’s liking. No major damage done, we resumed during a "sailor’s delight” of a sunset along the harbourside, though the runners’ best laid plans unravelled due to the closing of a lock [the type boats use] - they only had to "recalculate” like a satnav though, rather than swallow their immense pride and follow the walkers. Both routes led to a sweet stop by the water’s edge, featuring wine gums and novelty Haribo. Bottelinos and Waitrose then passed our slightly weary bodies by, and an On In with several straying walkers seemed an acceptable price to pay for touching down at bang on 2 hours.
CIRCLE: Order, order! We found just enough time to call up Call Girl, Paella, Royalty and virgin Angie for sitting at the beer stop, plus Cinderella for being helpful, Pork Scratchings for taking a walker’s trail, Turbo for wrong-routing altogether and Flour Power for "hare’s disagreements”. A no-doubt much-awaited toast to 75 runs was also given to the returning Royalty, and also to Poacher and Lime Cordial for reminding us they still exist. Being a virgin and a criminal also meant that Angie, a friend of Flour Power, got 2 drinks in one. Last and least, everyone bemoaned the lack of shiggy on this trail. Why not bring your own?
ON ON ON: We all squeezed into the Phoenix’s conservatory for a pizza the action! Everyone, including any dieters, got a slice from a choice of 3, and the remaining few slices were divided up à la The Feeding of the 5000. For people who run to hare-only-knows on a weekly basis, resource management comes naturally.

Run Number 228, 30th March 2011.
Claremont Vaults, Weston-Super-Mare.
HARES Sally and Cheesepot.
WHO: 23 hashers, 2 dogs.
RUN REPORT written by this week's scribes, Happy Hooker and Call Girl: As it had stopped raining and almost time for summer, Bogs took a holiday in WSM led by half the hares (Cheespot fast asleep at home, dreaming of crackers and a good port). We warmed up in the car park nearby. The on-on was an up-up, we toured the parks and woods, discovering natives enjoying fresh air and Tesco’s finest ales. Flour had been decimated by the rain causing lots of checking and Rebore to wander up a private driveway. Several fish hooks caught some FRBs and before long we were wandering along the sands checking out the tide. The beer stop at a view point was a triumph, the shiny new pier and big wheel all lit up, it could have been Vegas. Perhaps that’s why Pushup attempted a pole dance up the flag pole. Coconut, pineapple and, best of all, Cheespot's mini delicioso cakes. Some hashers snatched illegal seconds. Cheesepot, still comatose perhaps, tied her dog up and left him there. Obviously, dogs are for Christmas but not for Easter.
CIRCLE: Crimes - Hare net was caught scrapping over jelly babies at the sweety stop, whilst Brigadoon and Flour Power splash hashed in the puddles. And finally the renaming of Sally, now known as Rear Ender.
ON IN: Eager Beaver flew in from Harwich, just in time to catch us all at the trough which was overflowing with sandwiches and chips. Packed lunches for the next day were wrapped and taken. Lovely pub, plenty big inside, with views over the Mare.
Run Number 227, 26th March 2011.
The Borough Arms, Weston-super-Mare.
HARE: Brigadoon was Turbo and Up Yours.
WHO: 5 hashers and a Daisy hound.
RUN REPORT: I'm sure everybody had their reasons... Yes, at the end of a gloriously sunny week to welcome in the Spring, the current boycott of Saturday hashes continued as only 4 of us plus second-timer hound Daisy took to a very quick warmup in a deserted car park and an On Out over the railway bridge towards Locking Castle. The day's only runners, Eager Beaver and Limpet, spoiled the fun here by noticing the On In symbol for later [pretend you didn't hear that!] but this was compensated for shortly after with makeshift hare Brigadoon giving us a fun choice of crossing a ditch via stepping stones, a cargo net or a net tunnel – the score was 2, 2, and 0 respectively. The runners and walkers then split their way around a lake before scaling the highest point of the trail over a railway line – we could see for half a mile around! Just as well that, since Locking Castle labyrinth then beckoned with a vengeance and our very small posse needed some navigational nous. As if on cue, Deep Throat caught up with us under a nearby bridge, raising the number of two-legged participants drastically to 5. This was also just in time for a fish hook for 4 and a record short time for a sweet stop; never had enough Haribo for 20 of us been so welcome. A specially-shipped in shiggy mound then pointed us out onto a long stretch of field, with the Weston Helicopter Museum in nearly full view. A fish hook for 6 was then negotiated by the 5 of us the only way a hasher can [that's a trade secret!] as was some shiggy that had survived this week's mini-mini-drought. Dealing with a beer stop is no secret, though – for some unthinkable reason, Haribo, grape juice and Strongbow were in plentiful supply for us; Daisy even found the spirit to go and check which route was correct; not bad for a hound retired on her first hash back in November. Next up we were afforded a viewpoint of a big pond [that's as good a view as you can get when hashing through the rear-end of a business estate in Weston] and a railway bridge crossing just before a locomotive thundered under us. A couple more fish hooks for 4 and 6 were duly obeyed, as was the only official regroup symbol of the trail – perhaps Brigadoon had foretold low numbers? This thought was to play on our minds as we headed pub-ward along the same road as the On Out – 90 minutes was the total, albeit without a half-time team talk.
CIRCLE: No such thing when you only have 4 to provide the circumference; therefore we "squared up” to each other and congratulated Brigadoon on a well laid, and certainly not wasted, Westonian trail. Deep Throat's late arrival got him the free drink, as did Daisy's canine crabwalking [you needed to have been there].
ON ON ON: Fortune favours the gluttonous – easily enough sandwiches and pringles for 20 were served to the 5 of us – Eager Beaver called on a non-bog to help with the disposal, for what it was worth, and I think we gave a pretty good account of what was now our 6 stomachs. Something close to half of the sandwiches were accounted for, even if it meant Cheesepot leaving all of her crusts. Next Wednesday will surely not demand tactics when eating...
Run Number 226, 23nd March 2011.
The George and Dragon, Felton.
HARES: Brigadoon and Turbo.
WHO: Around 20 hashers and 2 hash hounds.
RUN REPORT by Guest Scribe, Happy Hooker: Warm up of a Father Abraham in the pub car park led by the welcome return of Deep Throat. The driest March for many a year produced dry conditions and a starry clear night near Bristol Airport with planes roaring overhead. The trail took the hashers over fields, with horses and the inevitable stampeding cows, up lanes and tracks. Well-set hash by the experienced Brigadoon with the usual sneaky false trails and turn backs to slow down the runners, and a smoke screen down one false trail lane. Brigadoon steered DT onto the only shiggy, on route, near a farm gate. Beer Stop on Felton Common close to the end of the airport runway. Due to a long/short split route, the long-cut runners were late back and nearly missed the Beer Stop. Oranges, grapes and the aptly named dragon fruit was produced. Short cut On In back across Felton Common, avoiding the carved timber angel.
CIRCLR: Large circle of hashers congratulated Brigadoon and Turbo on a wonderful dry hash. Pork Scratchings struggled to find crimes indicating all hashers were too good. As a last resort Inchworm was collared for talking in the circle and Tumbling Ted for making too much noise over styles. DT was congratulated as a returnee for his swift recovery and becoming the first Bogs bionic hasher. Walrus and the absent Callgirl had the stat of hashing for one year.
The George and Dragon turned out to be a cosy old pub serving good food of the usual sandwiches and well cooked chips.
Run Number 225, 16th March 2011.
Rudgleigh Inn, Easton-in-Gordano.
HARES: Backchat and possibly Inchworm.
WHO: 22 hashers with a trio of hounds.
RUN REPORT: On a still evening there was plenty of hospitality to go round from a pub already well accustomed to hashers – a self-warmup in our own big car park preceded an On Out over a cricket field and a frog-march of the runners down a super-shiggy bridleway. So shiggy in fact that even Happy Hooker (and also seemingly hound Pushover) bemoaned not going with the walkers for an evening. Eager Beaver and Duracell were also a little disgruntled at responding to an "On Back” not meant for them – occupational hazard, I suppose. Talking of which, after crossing the main road and finding the walkers long gone, several runners were then temporarily Missing In Action; only a turnback along a country road helped to reunite them. Walker/runner parity was then restored next to a farm, even if it meant going through a field that, frankly, was a load of old bull. The escape route constituted the first of several wired stiles that hounds Lucky, Pushover and Basil needed helping heaves over – Turbo changed the focus though by stripping down to his flesh (top half anyway) for the remainder – what will the Summer bring?! At the next regroup the as-yet-handleless Sally fell flat on anything but her face – it was the runners who really got what was coming to them, though, as they were sent into several welcome turnbacks thereafter – they have not been as popular as fish hooks lately. When everyone saw the very steep climb in woodland that then beckoned, they suspected rewards – and so it proved as the summit provided a sweet stop of jelly babies and something we were all turning into – dried fruit. Speeds were then segregated again – all that can be said is the runners' route was as thick as 3 short planks over a stream. On a night with no beer stop a second dietetic sweet stop of carrot sticks and ginger was warmly welcomed, more so than a hastily laid T2 from Inchworm as we headed homeward. As is becoming surprisingly popular, the On In was at a slow pace via a long downhill and a couple of fields, as we trudged back to the Rudge...
CIRCLE: A lot to take in – Brigadoon drank to 52 weeks with the Bogs, second timer Jean was given a formal introduction as an affiliate of Duracell and a suggestion to rename Koko as Kelloggs was firmly rejected – probably because we are all a load of crunchy nuts as it is. Crimes included the sitting ducks Brigadoon, Flour Power and Happy Hooker, the "nice trip” for Sally, stripper Turbo and also for Ken, Pushup and Ballsport – the latter 3 had found negotiating stiles just as hard as the hounds and had got snagged on them. Hashing is much easier to get hooked on, though.
ON ON ON: Our own big room followed our own big car park, as did 2 big bowls of chips and every sandwich breed under the set sun. Despite the wise step of leaving the chips under the guard of Eager Beaver (who doesn't eat them), Turbo still snaffled more than his fair share of them. Maybe, for some mysterious reason, his body heat had fallen?
No hashers' values have fallen, though – daylight in the evenings cannot be too far away now...
Run Number 224, 9th March 2011.
The Railway Inn, Yatton.
HARES: Walrus and Call Girl.
WHO: 18 hashers plus veteran hound Lucky.
RUN REPORT: Yatton – now there's a starting location that would have every hasher guessing as to the forthcoming scenery. As it was, we had a little bit of everything. After warming up a stone's throw from the railway line with some jogging and a lot of counting hashers present, we proceeded through a few blob mazes [5 hashers managed to set their own mini trail - "we clearly saw 3 blobs” was the offered excuse] and then out onto open farm country. After treading a field or 3 of shiggy, we reconvened by the railway line and "lights out” was observed for a passing train before crossing the track with stile. For Pork Scratchings, Lucky and Rebore, though, this clearly was not enough like living on the edge, as they decided to dodge the next stile by edging along the bank of a neighbouring river – nobody really wanted them to fall in, so they didn't. The tailenders then spotted a plank across the river which Call Girl bemoaned not using in conjunction with a turnback – now that would have put the cliffhangers through their paces. A couple of very sheepish fields were then passed through, with Lucky suitably tethered, before reaching a sweet stop comprised enitirely of strawberry Haribo, which was enough to raise the interest of one of the sheep and their very young. From here on, though, Walrus became a live hare – it seemed we were doing the opposite and the adjacent, rather than just the intended hypotenuse. Semi-civilisation beckoned along a farm road, as did fish hooks for 6 and 3 and a long trudge along Claverham Road, at least back in the direction of Yatton. At the end of this, at least 5 of us missed an arrow by a small gate pointed out by Inchworm and were called back; much to their frustration, we meandered a couple of side streets and emerged about 5 yards from where they had got to. A clear conscience when it comes to corner-cutting, however, is surely beyond price. We then crossed a playing field and landed in a bin - well, a fish hook for 6 scrawled on a bin, anyway, and then hashed respectfully silently through a cemetery as a prelude to a high-in-demand beer stop. Beer, fruit juice, grapes and banana slices as sustenance were very popular; taking a different route back through the cemetery much closer to the gravestones not so. It seemed hashers galore were also tired of being treated like fish, so as many as 4 hooks for 6 during the closing stages were ignored. Naturally we had to cross the railway again before the finish, and did so via the station footbridge alongside the Railway Inn. Contrary to what this report suggests, we were always on the right track...
CIRCLE: Not much to mention in a circle that rightly focused on Walrus losing track, though Call Girl had also admitted some fault to yours truly en route. At least 8 hashers came up for evading the final few hooks as well – maybe down-downs are not deterrent enough...
ON ON ON: It was souper-duper! With Deep Throat in attendance, 3 entirely different, piping hot "cauldrons” of the stuff were bowled out along with plenty of bread to mop up. Koko also supplied 2 cocoa cakes [Black Forest Gateau and Creamy Chocolate, to be precise], for tonight was her last un-birthday. Talking of quotes from the Mad Hatter, let us track down the missing scribe's contribution from last week – good times were meant to have been had by all [edit this page to suit; scribe much obliged].
Run Number 223, 2nd March 2011.
The Crown, Churchill.
HARES: Cinderella & Kerb Crawler.
WHO: A number of hashers.
RUN REPORT: It was a cold clear night as the Hashers turned up for what promised to be a walk in the dark. After a quick warm up and if I remember right an outbreak of measles amongst the feline community, on-on was called downhill towards the Sandford road which was crossed at the clock tower and soon found ourselves in the familiar territory of shiggy fields and a surprise hill.The beer stop was a shocking affair held next to an electricity sub station. It was then on=on through more shiggy fields back to the welcoming glow of the Crown.
CIRCLE: There was one, that much I can remember.
ON ON ON: An open fire, wobbly tables and rustic charm by the cart load led to plates of assorted sandwiches with mustard or horseradish accompaniment and piping hot sausages as if the horseradish wasn't hot enough.
Run Number 222, Saturday, 26rd February 2011.
Windsor Castle, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Brigadoon and Turbo.
WHO: 11 hashers (Happy Hooker, Brigadoon, Ballsport, Eager Beaver, Rebore, Up Yours, REWIND, Cowslip, Skidmark, Turbo and Drop ‘Em), plus hound Pushover.
RUN REPORT: What happened this here Saturday? Among the proposed reasons for the low numbers were a boycott of Weston and a passion for the Six Nations; time will tell. We warmed up for precisely 2 seconds in the car park and then on-outed through the rather sunny streets with the help, predominantly, of chalk arrows on the walls - weather-proofing tends to result in good weather. The runners negotiated Milton High Street but found they had been hung out to dry by the walkers, who only got their attention at an enormous helipad-like regroup symbol in Ashcombe Park thanks to Brigadoon’s rallying cry. Perhaps swayed by this, the already weary Eager Beaver traded paces with junior hashers Cowslip and Skidmark. The walkers then skirted some tennis courts and observed the distant runners walking, so they compensated with a light jog to the next regroup, out by the main road. Brigadoon then kindly pointed out a route around a church leading to a hill whose brow presented a crossroads and an L plate not left by the hares. If that was a hill, then next up was a mountain as we finally tasted rural surroundings with routes for both paces. Keeping the trend, the walkers enjoyed views stretching out to Brean as well as a brief walker/walker split (a day of discoveries!), and then regrouped next to a water tower in the woods. When the runners appeared, including Turbo who had apparently slipped on shiggy, Brigadoon claimed we had waited half an hour for them, but Cowslip said it was 5 minutes. Who’s right? You decide. As a warmup for what was to come, we then briefly played on a rope/plank bridge and forewent any sweet stop (Ballsport was said to have forgot them); a couple of crossroads later and we were all out beer-stopping in a big adventure playground - goody! Fuelled by beer, orange juice and segments, the most popular attraction was one of those cable-death-slide things that every adult knows they want to go on; some even went as far as down-downing while sliding! Back to reality, the home stretch took us through the remainder of the rather shiggy woods and past some terraced cliffs much like those of Machu Picchu. The fun and games meant we finished in slow motion, opting to ignore a runners’ loop featuring what would have been the trail’s only fish hook and using a zebra crossing just outside the pub with ON IN scrawled between the stripes - ingenious!
ON ON ON: No time for a circle, nor on on on for the disappearing REWIND, though crimes recalled from memory included Happy Hooker, Pushover, REWIND, Up Yours and Eager Beaver short-cutting in Ashcombe Park, plus Turbo’s aforementioned shiggy encounter. The low numbers then told as we struggled to finish 3 big plates of brown and white meaty and cheesy sandwiches, and a tray of golden chips. Cowslip however was very grateful to Turbo for leaving half a plate of chips; coming back for more is the sign of a true hasher. Today’s report will surely revive numbers, blessings to you all...
Run Number 221, 23rd February 2011.
The Old Farmhouse Nailsea.
WHO: Approx 28 hashers, 2 hounds: Basil and Mucky Lucky.
HARE: Duracelle.
RUN REPORT: The hashers set off, but due to government spending cuts, flour was at times greatly reduced; signs stating No Road Markings and No Drinking! were more easily seen.

The Hare lost herself on the trail, literally.
Low foggy clouds and a steady Somerset drizzle earlier during the day, meant splash hashing across the Nailsea paddy fields was compulsory.
Frogs and other amphibians were out and about checking on the arrival of spring.
CIRCLE: Several returnees: Misled, Walkie Talkie, Paella.
Two nubies: Jean and Steve.
Gary was congratulated on 10 runs, but still has no name.
Offences included:
i) Complaining about the mud, splashing in the mud, wearing the mud.
ii) Eager Beaver’s sat nav, which couldn’t work out which side of the fence he should be on.
ON IN: Hopping Hare Beer sold in this large, warm pub. The owners clearly had reservations about us all and had said so on notes on each table. Sandwiches were plenty and varied.
Run Number 220, 16th February 2011.
Herbert Road, Clevedon.
WHO: 26 Hashers plus Hound Lucky - Fab for February!
RUN REPORT: Enthusiasm in numbers (and Brigadoon’s brave donning of a Hawaii T-Shirt) was duly matched by the evening’s entertainment right from the off - a hoki-coki warmup in the middle of the road featured REWIND’s demonstration/proposal of the symbol RU for roundup - the idea being for front-runners to make themselves useful in tracking wandering walkers; watch this space. These subject matters duly accelerated up Clevedon's famed Hill Road zigzag - they got an A for effort, but an F for false. After following the 3rd way at 6 ways roundabout, a detour through a shiggy park beckoned, followed closely by a crossing of paths with some young runners/hash aspirers and a regroup at the end of the slipway on the beach (how have we not thought of that before?!) with a surrounding sea calmer than an empty millpond. A coastal path then took us, as most Clevedonians know, towards Ladye Bay for another regroup at low tide plus great views, though only Lucky and returnee Big Stick had the chivalry to check out a cliffhanger checkpoint en route. More than the majority then "hit the wall" afterwards as we trudged up a very long, shiggy slope, with Drop 'Em and Brigadoon's shirt the unfortunate recipients of slipping. Of course it was well worth the view of twinkling Clevedon at the top, as well as locating a glove left on a tree specially by REWIND for hasher's points. At the next regroup newbie Steve may have invented his own handle after introducing himself as "Nobody" to Bag Lady; the latter also proposed the full moon as the cause of Brigadoon's dress sense plus another hasher's evening antics which soon came further to the fray. This was Eager Beaver who discovered, once out on tarmac again, that he only had 2 speed settings - Slow and Sprint; another discovery from everyone was a delightful snowdrop-flower arrow pointing towards Dial Hill - we knew a lot of planning had gone into tonight but that takes the packet of biscuits! Dial Hill (Clevedon at higher altitude) was negotiated with confidence if not style, since the hare Rewound us after we headed the wrong way after a regroup at Clevedon's highest point. The much anticipated beer stop never came despite 2 Beer Near symbols, though as we neared the grandmaster's finishing abode, we had at least some reassurance...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: An indoor circle up paid tribute to 10 hashes for Drop 'Em and half a century for Pork Scratchings. It was also recognised that NOT slipping on THAT hill was a crime in itself and thus virtually everyone was called; separate crimes included Brigadoon and Bag Lady turning up in best and dirty shoes respectively, plus Coppertone making a right hash of an innocent tree and daring to sit down. Virgin Steve however had departed so his handle could not yet be christened. This may possibly be due to the lack of a beer stop - remember we have a running problem, not a drinking one. On to the festivities, Deep Throat only managed to put on a bash of average standard for him, i.e. PERFECT! Delicious stew with crusty baguettes was distributed along with Doritos, drinks all round and some sweeties provided by grateful Ben Nevis trekker Eager Beaver. Pushup also announced the first of surely many Hash BBQs on May 7th - we all do it for the exercise, honest!
Run No. 219, 9th February 2011.
Coach House, Locking.
HARES: Brigadoon and Ballsport.
WHO: 20 Hashers plus Hound Lucky.
RUN REPORT: A welcome return to the "out in the woods” hashes beckoned in suburban Locking on a very still evening. All but the least astute noticed centurion Coppertone in a Roman Soldier’s helmet (it went very well with the toga-like centurions’ shirt) and that next week’s hare REWIND was missing - perhaps it’ll take a week to set? An assurance of no turnbacks by Brigadoon had us fooled, for it was a trail with almost as many fish hooks as hashers. An immediate speed split preceded a regroup on a footbridge above the A371 - the walkers had plenty of time to catch their breath but more importantly admire the view. This provoked a label of the runners as "Trotters” for the evening - Del Boy and Rodney would have done very well to avoid the attentions of a prowling bus like the runners did just before the next regroup, though. After regrouping, we then gained altitude via several shiggy fields, fish hooks for 4, 6 and 8 and a stile which Brigadoon sort-of-limboed under. Up in the woods, hazards reigned with rabbit holes, cowpats and many a trip hazard in place. Nature compensated for this cruelty with a lovely panoramic view of Weston, sandwiched between fish hooks for 10 and 2 of course (frontrunner Bag Lady apparently refusing the latter, based on hearsay). Amid our directional delirium several suddenly noticed the Memorial Garden we had used for the Beer Stop of Run Number 180 way back in June - so it was to be here too, as Grape Juice, Beer, Oranges and Grapefruit were distributed to make up for last week’s distinctly unhealthy, but rather popular, equivalent. Trotters and walkers soon split up again, with the former negotiating a remarkably shiggy-free field or three plus Hutton’s main roads before reaching a sweet stop rendezvous. Lucky Dip was the theme here, though all the contents felt like Haribo. The last fish hook then greeted 8 of us, as did loud band music in an adjacent household - a delight to hashers, of course. Locking Church then appeared in silhouette to signify the finishing line, via another steep hill albeit of the tarmac variety. Touch down was at slightly less than 2 hours this time, though there had been plenty of scaling to compensate.
CIRCLE: Deep Throat appeared to the delight of all, though the Grandmaster’s absence had actually resulted in generally good behaviour; only Turbo, Harenet, Tumbling Ted and Ms Missed Name (scribe’s sincere apologies) came forward for evading fish hooks - that there were 5 times too many was clearly no excuse. Written plaudits must also go to Limpet here, too, for providing a torch for Eager Beaver who only turned up with threadbare headwear.
ON ON ON: Tres bien appetit! Every hasher made hungry through exertion tucked into sausages, chips, chicken nuggets and bread that was as good as just-baked. Mention was also made of a Bristol run from the local White Hart on Sunday - a very welcome Bogs/Bristolian hybrid beckons. The Bogs also showed their love for walking and charity in equal measure by sponsoring Eager Beaver for a Ben Nevis trek for the National Autistic Society in June. Rewards for those who reward walking will be very...rewarding.
Run No 218, 2nd February 2011.
WHERE: The Ship at Uphill.
HARES: Eager Beaver and Rebore.
WHO: 21 hashers , including one visitor from Bristol Hash. No hounds.
RUN REPORT: After playing sardines in the car park, the hares marched us up to the top of the hill and the view point, and then they marched us down again. This was one of many hills going up, but only two going down...
Other surprises included Limpet, who has been reborn as a runner; hoorah!!! And now can be heard huffing and puffing like a goodun’.
REWIND saw a sign for Ilfracombe and wisely ignored it, whilst Walrus went A over T and blamed it on Inchworm’s waggle dance!
Plenty of soft shiggy, for all.
Ignoring the dangers and the Highway Code, hashers ran down both sides of the road, to face oncoming traffic, whilst Flour Power, confused as ever, hogged the middle lane.
As the beer stop came into view, Turbo was seen sunbathing whilst waiting for the pack to catch up, however, Brigadoon ever mindful of the dangers of dehydration, had led a small group off early to the pub to check on his fluid levels.
ON IN: Sandwiches and a big bowl of chips were greeted with howls of delight, (some not seen chips before?) Rebore threatened us all with a large knife, demanded hush and produced a very choclatey cake. Apparently he is 104! Well done and Happy Birthday Rebore!!!
And very well done Eager Beaver too!! Good long hash, otherwise known as "Hash around the clock" ie start one day and finish next.
STATS: Nobody could think, let alone count, at this stage, give us a break.
OFFENCES: All of above really.
Call Girl.
Run No. 217, 26th January 2011.
WHERE: Ship & Castle, Congresbury.
HARES: Walrus & Call Girl.
WHO: Some hashers and a dog (can't remember how many oops).
RUN REPORT: After a short debate it was decided "Yes it is bloody cold". So out of the car park followed by a short confusion before on on was called in the direction of the A370 then left up towards the church. It was here in the churchyard that the trail was lost and we were called back by the hare..After climbing the stile into the field the runners went right and the walker went left, halfway round the field the Call Girl turned round and took us back over the stile into the churchyard. where I performed a graceful backwards somersault after tripping over a stone. Now back on trail we arrived at a regroup and awaited the runners return, continuing past a cute thatched cottage and round the play area we eventually headed for the fields and promised shiggy. At some point REWIND had joined us under the mistaken belief that we were on a "bash" and must have wondered why he was the only one on a bike. With bananas at the beer stop where rewind's bike fed up with getting it's tyres muddy switched off it's lights and hid in the corner. Just a few more fields to go ity was over the Millennium Bridge and back into the car park.
DOWN DOWN: Offences included not knowing you were the assistant RA (Push up) and if I remember rightly 100 runs for Coppertone.
Plenty of sandwiches but my pint of Stella was so awful I only managed to drink half of it. As we left we noticed the rest of the pub seemed completely deserted.

Run No. 216, 19th January 2011.
WHERE: Royal Hotel, Portishead.
HARE: Pork Scratchings.
WHO: 24 Hashers, plus 2 Hounds.
RUN REPORT: Summer numbers! The weather, however, was suitably Crisp for a Pork Scratchings Hash, accompanied by a full or at least 99% moon on a night when frost-glistened concrete was the most common terrain. It did not begin that way, though – after a semi-circular warmup with Father Abraham, Portishead's woody coastal catacombs were on the agenda; among their following was a T7 that snared at least that many hashers, a regroup that ought really to have been a viewpoint and an emergence back into suburbia with the Royal in sight, much to the amusement of a driving-by ragamuffin. The runners among us made their own entertainment shortly after – Eager Beaver christened a parked up Beetle "Herbie” (it even had a 5 and a 3 in its number plate), Walrus volunteered himself for a fish hook that had hooked 1 too few (somebody end this injustice!), and then a mini roundabout was encircled several times – magic! Reconvening with the walkers though gave the best comic relief. This was done in the presence of 5 naked ladies (statuesque though they were), with hound Lucky apparently licking Pork Scratchings in the deriere! Raw hare may of course be a hound delicacy. Desperately changing the subject, it was at this point that similarities with August's Splash and Dash were noticed – Portishead woodland beginnings and routes through the new-ish marina estate, for example, though the trail was still significantly different. After passing the new quayside Bottelino's, a temporary smell of sewage and a fish hook for 5 preceded a Haribo sweet stop next to a playground – trouble was suspected, but it seemed no "Peter Pan” hashers (who never grew up) were present tonight. Frozen shiggy shortly greeted us, on a long stretch of riverside for good measure, but then came arguably the evening's hazard highlight. A queue quickly built up in front of a very slippery slope with supporting branches that were none too steady – turnstiles probably would have helped keep order. The rivals to this hashers' hazard revealed themselves soon after, though. First there was a long, flat slalom through staked plants (we knocked at least 3 of them over and Rewind discovered the downside of trying to Fast Forward through them), and then there was a hurdle over a sub-zero stream preceded by a field with deep puddles aplenty. Only those with 4 legs seemed hesitant about the jump, though, and the reward was a return to concrete and a Beer Stop in the middle of Fitzroy Circus (don't ask). The usual bevvies helped to wash down grapes, tomatoes and carrot sticks – compensating for Christmas gluttony seems to be on the Beer Stop agenda. Lovely urban scenery (yes, there is such a thing to a hasher) constituted the On In – sparkling dockside lights aplenty, views stretching out to Severn beach and a steep flight of finishing stairs, which several had mistaken as the On Out earlier. 2 hours was the time – we are in danger of becoming consistent!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: That's right, they were combined! In an upstairs room to ourselves to avoid breach of the peace, of course. Brigadoon drank to 50 hashes with the Bogs (yes, it really is only that many from he who hares with as much vim and vigour as Deep Throat), and to mark the occasion an imaginary second drink was provided for Brigadoon getting trapped in a "Hasher's Timewarp” with a symbol. Flour Power had spread too many rumours of a ghost at the Royal for Pork Scratching's liking and was down-downed, as were Walrus, Rewind and Eager Beaver for their roundabout antics, probably not helped by the latter's confession. Fraternising with the naked statues had also been on Tumbling Ted's agenda, but clearly not on the hare's etiquette list.
Once left to the Royal's devices, however, disappointment reigned since only three plates of rather limp and unpopular sandwiches were provided – thankfully hashers either give positive reviews of eating establishments or no reviews at all. Let's just say the Royal was probably quite busy...

Run No. 215, 12th January 2011
Borough Arms, Weston-super-Mare
HARES: Brigadoon & Ballsport
WHO: 14 Hashers with 1 Hound, plus 3 latecomers
RUN REPORT: Made a right hash of it, did the weather! A throng of 14 (lucky for the namesake hound present and including welcome returnee Duracell) substituted a warm up in the pub car park for a legs up before trekking around the Locking Castle area on a very damp evening that nonetheless offered occasional respites. Within seconds of the start Rewind was a blur on the horizon, albeit in the wrong direction, and several hashers may have felt the bare-arm approach from Turbo would have been the better option. Locking Castle threw up many walker's cul-de-sacs and path-erosion-contributing shiggies in amongst two railway crossings - one with a bridge, one without. It was also a decidedly fishy trail - an impressive 5 such hooks were encountered and Brigadoon had to resort at least twice that many times to repairing blobs - with flour and rain there is only ever one outcome. That Brigadoon had come stocked up with flour was also a Godsend, since late-latecomers Kerb Crawler, Cinderella and Inchworm would not even have had any shadows to chase! The latter trio duly caught up at an early Beer Stop (2010 Hours, to be precise) with rain-diluted fruit juice, beer and, quite delightfully, Papaya and Grapefruit to help us all reach our 5-a-day. The pack imminently proceeded past Morrisons (seemingly the most popular supermarket among Bogs Hares) and had the bravery to idle through a pack of teens who were shouting either encouragement or something not quite so nice. Next up was possibly the longest straight in Bogs history, and what better time for the heavens to close as well, since Brigadoon was by now confessing to a shortage of flour. When a checkpoint was finally encountered, all bar Brigadoon and Turbo were sent out on a limb and into a washed-away Turnback - the fact that they passed under a bridge en route did not give it away. Back on the right track (the confirmation being a TV aerial resembling an arrow), the On In saw White Van Man perpetrate a negative stereotype by not indicating for us at a roundabout, and the decision of the tailenders to head back to the pub the way they knew - it was only a 2 minute deviation, if that, from a hash touching down at 2 hours.
CIRCLE: No circle was forthcoming due in part to there being no statisticians present and crimes had been few and far between; still, we never thought Brigadoon and Ballsport could be so square...
ON ON ON: Excellent sandwiches of several breeds greeted us on a long table along with potato wedges and crisps - many resorted to taking the former home since there were not quite enough stomachs present. Mobile numbers were all taken as well for the reasonably unlikely event of a hash emergency - absentees take note.  A hasher's parade will never be rained on!

Run No. 214, 5th January 2011.
Clevedon Rugby Football Club, Southey Road, Clevedon.
HARES: Pushup and Happy Hooker - planned by Kerb Crawler.
WHO: 19 Hashers and 2 hounds - Lucky and Basil.
RUN REPORT: 2011 was welcomed in with a very eventful circumnavigation of Clevedon and its greenbelts - in the dark and on damp terrain the Bogs never really felt like they had had a Christmassy break. Several locals lingering outside the rugby club were thoroughly entertained, if not perplexed, by a Father Abraham warmup that was gatecrashed by Backchat in her automobile - that set the evening’s fun and games tone, then. While negotiating Clevedon’s back streets in the general direction of the M5, several turnbacks and false trails were encountered, though one of the latter was missed due to being washed away - shame on the elements! Among the urban fun and games of the evening included an encounter with hash-lookalikes in running gear, Brigadoon testing the strength of a tyre swing and a driver who let the tailenders treat the main road as a zebra crossing - bless. A regroup took place with the Hand Stadium floodlights and motorway traffic in sight on what used to be Brigadoon’s driveway, and which was now to be our sweet stop, with the treats of the hares’ choice being chocolates and Haribo - kids and hashers love it so. Prior to this the hares had warned of a motorway crossing ("with or without a bridge?” pondered Brigadoon), but this turned out to be crossing the sliproad literally a yard ahead of the "End of Motorway Regulations” sign - technically we did cross the motorway then, incidentally in between uphill and downhill shiggy. This led us past Clevedon Craft Centre and into a craftily crafted fish hook for 5, followed by much debate as to the next direction to take - the hares trustingly said left after letting us squirm for a bit. We then crossed the motorway the proper way, i.e. with a bridge, albeit as bait for another fish hook for 10 and provocation for Deep Throat to instigate a chorus of "Where’s The Beer Stop?”. The answer to this was only forthcoming after negotiating several fields of shiggy, one of which saw Walrus spot Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig and co. observing us from a distance. The rabbits would have been welcome at the beer stop too, since carrot sticks were the rare accompaniment to beer, fruit juice, apple and marshmallows aplenty. Rookie Hound Basil’s Fawlty behaviour here was to try and trip Ken and Eager Beaver with his lead - only just unsuccessfully. It turned out that all the fun and games had merely been fate’s tester for us, as a very long On In resulted from the pack losing the hares next to a subway crossing and from there onwards. By the time we all dashed past Morrisons and back to the club, the pack had been well segregated to prevent any AWOLs, though a walker/runner route near the end also did its part to restore order. This is why we really have symbols!
CIRCLE: The route planner or "Virtual Hare” Kerb Crawler duly arrived to witness a few soggy hashers trying on a missing shoe - this one did not fit Cinderella, though. All bar 5 of us were called up for shortcutting just after the subway, while Eager Beaver and Deep Throat received an overdue down down for cancelling the December 22nd Hash - they could not get what they deserved, as there was no ducking stool handy. Cheesepot, however, certainly did - the plaudits for 25 glorious hashes, though not to the tune of "Get a Life”; better luck on your 50th!
ON ON ON: Chicken wraps were the surprising novelty the club had in store for us, along with crisps, sausages, chips and plenty of sandwiches to choose from. The scribe was also most grateful to only have to go through a door into the neighbouring skittle alley to play his set - happy coincidences should make for 12 months of happy hashers - On On!

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