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Run 857, 21st December 2022.
Software and Dongle's, Lyddon Road, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Software and Dongle.
WHO: 16 hashers without hounds.
RUN REPORT: Clockwork precision has come to be the accepted theme of Software and Dongle's hashabouts, no less so tonight when we had the precise 9:47 passing of the solstice announced in a cosy front room. Prior to this we had taken in the sights of a flat-pack route around St Georges and its contemporaries, highlights of what we skipped on including Priory Community School and the comfortably green Caste Batch. At three regroups (one of which may have involved a bit of FRB reining-in) Dongle stepped up with general knowledge Christmas quiz questions - I would have shuddered at the thought and taken home a wooden spoon as a food mixer present had fate not paired me up with a Grandmaster. Back on mostly trail, the title of visual highlight had to go to the festive lights of one house that we adorned with a VP symbol and Deep Throat made a charitable donation through the letterbox for - well worth mixing On Out with On In for.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Congrats to the hares for an organisation level of their usual Olympian standard, plus down downs to birthday gal Bag Lady. Not content with their customary dizzy culinary heights, our hosts followed up sausage and bean casserole with Frangipane, mince pies of the Lyddon Road speciality and Mars Bar Crunch with extended question times (oddly on a Wednesday?!) for the trail quizzes plus those about Christmassy words without vowels and cryptic descriptions about sweets and chocolates (I merely did one about chocolate bars in cross-section once; own trumpet duly blown). The recently sprung up Inn at Yanleigh beckons at Twixmas, specially for those no doubt wanting to go up and down to shake off the mere grams they have added.....
Run 855, 7th December 2022.
The Golden Lion, Worle.
HARE: Fondue.
WHO: 9 hashers.
RUN REPORT: by Cinders: Sub-zero temperature as we set off, but a steady climb for the first half mile up to Worlebury Golf course soon had us feeling a bit warmer. The cash-starved inhabitants of Worle had apparently been out scraping up all of Fondue's flour in some sections, but with the aid of some chalk arrows on trees (and the Hare) we managed to follow the trail, with the runners disappearing downhill at one stage for a loop which lead them back up to the heights of Worlebury again, with the unusual sight of Walky Talky running ahead of the rest of the pack! Chocolate Brownies (well it was a Fondue hash) and marshmallowy something kept us sustained for the next split before wiggling our way back down to the pub, where a surprisingly nice pint of Doombar at just £2.75 a pint(!!) awaited.
CIRCLE: At that price Fondue had to have some beer, rather than the water she requested for her Down Down. Peeping Tom had his reward for his first hash back with us since trying to infect us all with his covid when he was hare at Winscombe; Dicky Dido had also reappeared after a few weeks after Developing a Dicky Tummy on her latest holiday; and Long John Silver almost had a down down for his Sainsbury jumper, but it was diverted to Cinderella for requiring the aid of three lady hashers to try to undo his zip...on his jacket.
PS: Four new hashers were out last night. They got cold feet so didn't do any of the route, but I did get this picture of them:

Run 854, 30th November 2022.
The Fallen Tree, 43 Hill Road, Clevedon.
HARES: M2M and Wet Wipe.
WHO: 17 houndless hashers.
RUN REPORT: Keeping up the pub theme, another symbol wanted in on the hashing act in time for Winter, namely a T that only becomes a false when it looks like a T - what the pack read into this was that there were to be no fish hooks but nonetheless plenty of opportunity to go the wrong way. What a long runners' route around Hill Road revealed was a scribe's head torch that did not seem quite as full of juice as it had made out at On Out; therefore the ascent in pursuit of FWBs had to temporarily be done in the presence of a co-hare as well charged as a Duracell hasher, let alone bunny. Peaking at Clevedon's Dial Hill peak, Bumburner stepped up to the plate at this point with a spare head torch, just as well as there were plenty of pitfalls (including a sniggering co-hare when On On blobs appeared outside Bumburner's abode) back down to a sweet stop next to St Mary's Church - clearly not too early for wise hares to bear a fine selection of sweets, though the SS symbol had transmogrified into a smiley face to appease those who may have mistaken it for a pentagram. To prove a malicious-free point, we plodded on through the church grounds in quick receipt of an uphill back to what Bogs call civilised, namely the much famed Clevedonian Zigzag which we had trifled with earlier but which had now become bedecked with On In to avoid us getting stuck in a time loop. Down and not Out!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Half a century of cakes went the way of Wetwipe in a micropub still with plenty enough space to swing a flour bottle, along with welcomes to genuine virgin Jackie and until-now-unrecognised virgin Heather, plus Anydoggle do for always getting checkpoints wrong - a moral victory if ever there was one. Oh, and we may have casually down downed 5 enormous pizzas to give us the heart of next week's Golden Lion at Worle...
Run 853, 23rd November 2022.
Coach House Inn, Locking.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 10 hashers.
RUN REPORT: by Cinders: Did those who ventured out let a little bit of thunder, lightning, and torrential rain in the afternoon put us off? No! and fortunately the RA was back on form as we enjoyed a practically rain free, flat and well-marked trail, including an exercise stop as well as a sweety stop, around the edges of what used to be RAF Locking, now called Locking Parklands.
CIRCLE: Eager was berated for including too much truth in his Hare Lies. Cinders and Bumburner's "eyes were dim and could not see" for, respectively, mistaking a disabled parking sign on the road for a checkpoint, and not realising that the 3 blobs in quick succession in front of him meant On On in that direction....and 3s4d got his down down for making sure that others got theirs.
Run 852, 16th November 2022.

The Riff Corner, 17 Old Church Road, Clevedon.
HARE: Bumburner.
WHO: 13 hashers and 1 visitor.
RUN REPORT: Far from Qatari weather, but then we tend to spend 90 minutes chasing flour around in the rain, rather than a silly ball. With much of it already washed away, our hare pinpointed sticker arrows for us - and if they pointed down, check it out! Nobody would be tempted to On In it as early as was on offer after a saunter around Marson Road; this instead was the preamble to our first Clevedonian railway history lesson in Queen's Square - back in the days when leaves and lashings on the line did not equal any delays. Lurking all these years was still one footpath possibly un-bogged and certainly never appearing on my radar after 34 years of residency Consolation thus came in a sticker-bedecked loop around a playground or two, with welcome returnee Flour Power picking up the thematic baton from Deep Throat and Red Light last week by accompanying the hare on some shortcuts. None of these thankfully bypassed a sweet stop with a C*****mas-sized tub of Haribo and its hybrids, nor the collective decision to spread the corner-cutting to the entire pack, what with a preponderance of precipitation still propagating and permeating in equal measure. It certainly did not put paid to any more of the railway stories from Bumburner, particularly as each such stop from thereon was in an oddly track-straight line with On In. A ragtag lot of locations to have potential beer stops at were encountered - Rugby Club, B&M, Coffee#1 and even Lid'l, but we were never going to pass up a virgin pub as much as a virgin Bog.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Deep Throat joined us in toasting the next Phoenix Bar, i.e. a pub happy for us to ship in doughnuts and fish 'n' chips from the establishments opposite! To not offer said snacks to Cinders bought its own down down, and to prove the point of sharing sustenance, "A Spoonful of Sugar" down down went the way of Fondue for doing this trail under the guise of an umbrella. Hopefully down with the weather related Down Downs at the Coach House in Locking next week...
Run 851, 9th November 2022.
Grove Sports Centre, Nailsea.
HARE: Double D.
WHO: 21 hashers plus 5 for the AGPU.
RUN REPORT: With elections and reports aplenty to take us into the night ahead, the most interesting way to start the trail was for everyone to follow Rewind up to his usual back alley tricks; once everyone had opted for the long and feasible way round to pastures open, a head torch appeared far behind and made far too quick work of catching up for it to be a traditional BRB. Step forward instead Bumburner who had nonetheless decided against the runners' risk of what was public and what we want to be public like previously in these parts. Deep Throat and Red Light had kept up a predictably furious pace by the time a regroup stepped out of the shadows near Backwell Lake; enough of an effort thus to hightail a hare shortcut to the back doubles, fish hooks for 3 and 4 FRBs and of course a sweet stop! Drumsticks and humbugs preceded Rewind reverting to type and opting for the daring do over Queens Road rather than the subway as reconnoitred. A good old Ring of The Bells signalled a regular arrival time past the no less regular On In of Tythe Barn - all filed in thus in anticipation of AOB...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Keep up this standard of grub and we may be tempted to make it WGPU! Even the chilli flakes got all used up alongside the loaves, chilli and vegan curry for the 5000 - the additional appetites of Briggy, Ballsport, Down and Dirty, Bag Lady, Coppertone and Fondue no doubt take credit for the finishing off job. Jobs galore to go round - Deep Throat remains our GM, humble enough to declare that "I have not done much, but the hash has!", while RA will now be Wet Wipe trying to do something about the current drowned rat syndrome. Beer meister will be down downed by Briggy and Anydoggledo, and everybody in the future will be expected to...ahem...flash on the hash. All other responsibilities remain as you were, but wishing for 2023 to go down with a bang rather than a roll in shall constitute the hopeful return of both pub grub and monthly Saturday trails. Watch the few spaces thus left in one's diary...
Run 850, 2nd November 2022.

The Black Cat Micropub, Weston-super-Mare.
HARE: W.Ankle.
WHO: 12 bipeds all told.
RUN REPORT: See Hash Monster, See Hash Monster run! Run hashers, run! At the regular 1910 hours only a scribe and a hare adorned the pavement outside the black cat that walked across our path, but then a steady trickle came forward to reach double figures, including a returning Clawed Balls (hopefully not clawed by the black cat)! In keeping with a Greyhounds Phoenix Bar trail just passed, the rain soaked us before and after the trail but held off specially for our visit to the See Monster, booked in for an extended stay to accommodate all the fireworks too. A few checkpoints marked their territory on our way to the promenade, as did the aquatic graffiti and some ear-splitting boy racers, but seeing our distant host for the hour light up a beacon orange seemed most apt for this clockwork trail. FRBs wandered and wondered in equal measure as to whether Briggy and Ballsport would make it in time for the 8pm final admission, smarting all the same at a high wind keeping the festivities to the ground level for tonight. Our tour of this monster could have been War of the Worlds material but for the greenery poking out at the top; it was thus a giver not a taker of life and resources. Briggy had indeed made it in time to listen to a few lamentations about the cost of this monstrosity; a Dismaland trail may thus have been on the cards in times gone by. A good pick-us-up then comprised a sheltered beer stop alongside one of Shade Hunter's poems (this is an era when Weston has one makeover after another) to kick-start heading back exactly from whence us hashing monsters came. Those eagle-eyed enough to turn their eyes around noticed the Monster changing to a much lighter shade now that there were no more hashes to admit; how could that possibly dampen its mood as much as the earlier rain? Note to self - take a miniature See Monster with you next time, as your fully charged head torch called it quits before even reaching the Grove Park On In!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: A cosy interior which possibly looks this black cat-menacing all year round and not just post-Halloween; down downs went hare-ward plus to Software for the Mars Bar crunch sustenance that supercharged our way there and back again, though Dongle was nominated to down it. Early AGPU offerings were tantalised for next week too - just make sure we are still able to fit in a trail!
Run 849, 26th October 2022.

The Dolphin, Uphill, Weston Super Mare.
HARE: Brigadoon.

Run 848, 19th October 2022.
The Ship Inn, Portishead.
HARES: Coppertone, Bag Lady and Inchworm.
WHO: 13 hashers, 1 hound and 2 visitors.
RUN REPORT: Stoicism from those present tonight constituted not battling against the trail's elements, but getting in our car, seeing the flashes of lightning over the Severn and NOT deciding to give it a miss. For by the time we warmed and circled up all hint of drowned hash rats had long gone, or at least it had reserved it for the hares. Inchworm had been persuaded by his co-hares to include not just turnbacks on the way down to the coastal path but also a couple of fish hooks throughout - the first of these came with the runners still in a distant tow, though most walkers found a semi-excuse for not doing it in the form of helping Backchat with a temporarily malfunctioning headtorch (a kind reminder that there was no lightning left to help us). Once lit up again we mistook Inchworm and Coppertone's ulterior motive of sending us into another turnback for mere manners in letting us pass and stopping for a friendly chat; this of course is one lesson us Bogs never want to learn, particularly as it came with a long slog uphill of both mud and tarmac constituents - once we had peaked too soon Bag Lady passed round some delicious and golden looking fruit - enough for 3 crispy bites each. Enough bravery had already been on display in getting this far, and so the brief flirtation with traffic no doubt scared it more than us prior to heading through the grounds of the Outdoor Activity Centre - Princess Double D opted to gently move the frogs out of our path rather than kissing them goodnight, while Cinderella latched on to Backchat's theme with a malfunctioning headtorch of his own. With Coppertone and Bumburner at a little risk of being left by the wayside, a fish hook for 4 may just have endeared itself to Inchworm as a result. It also left time for Coppertone to seemingly retire along a shorter On In, only to then reappear on the trail as we neared the hilly training grounds of Police HQ, so what had be briefly been up to? The answer had to wait until after taking in the sights of a derelict building, a footpath sandwiched by the main road and the quarry and the...well, lack of sight of Bumburner who had gone off on his own checkpoint gallivant. The less glaring On On again defied all traffic and sent us back to where Coppertone had briefly ventured forth...to daub a NI NO symbol as we saw it prior to a real ON IN appearing in a more pub-ward direction. For all the incident and battle against what the elements had done rather than what they were doing, a spot on 8:45 finish greeted us with open Ship arms.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Bravo to those hares courtesy of ginger beer down downs, cheered on by Deep Throat and Red Light again up to their pub-sitting. Bath half marathon (or Bath 3 hashes, if you like) conqueror went the way of Long John, in hockey gear no less. This was just as welcome as seeing that Bumburner had returned safely with staff still in hand. Not wanting two haunted ships in a row, so its downstream a little from the Ship at Uphill to the Dolphin instead next week. Briggy will ensure Halloween hashers get a good fright's steep...
Run 847, 12th October 2022.
The Tannery Bar, Claverham.
HARE: Kerb Crawler.
WHO: 17 hashers, 1 hound and 2 visitors.
RUN REPORT: Rain of the dense rather than heavy variety greeted a mighty respectable turnout at the Tannery, including Mudlark officially out of retirement to yap on the hounds' behalf. Second guessing a stalwart hare is frowned upon even at On Out as it transpires, what with the circumnavigation of the Tannery grounds that we were treated to - nobody opted for a 4 minute hash and so along a very dark Chapel Lane it was, firstly to greet the horses every bit as accustomed to bobbing head torches as whispered On Ons, and no less indifferent to our disruption were the sheep and cows that preceded our arrival in Cleeve. Kerb Crawler had naturally opted for the flora-bedecked footpaths to follow that fauna; this helped to disguise the need to dash across the A370 to locate a regroup remarkably free of vehicular destruction on the On Up. Fruit Salad and tangy haribo sweets were certainly at sufficient ends of the spectrum to ensure every taste bud was accounted for, though accounting for all runners was to prove more of a challenge from then on - it may well have been the nostalgia of passing Rocky's Horror rock that threw us, but one way or another we were looking one way or another for the more concealed ways onto Goblin Combe. Duly lectured by both hare and turnback, the field leading back to Cleeve proved easier to negotiate with Al Fresco dining at the other end as a marker; no less so the walkers when spotting the runners on a distant but inevitable collision course with them on the way back to Claverham. All in all, very well fed and watered!
ON ON ON: Deep Throat announced that an hour late was perhaps a push for even him to make a catchup and so he had been relegated to bar-sitting duty with Down and Dirty; down downs after a swift scribe departure naturally went the hare's way plus premature On On screamers and those who wandered up a blind A370 to nearly collide with the arriving Down and Dirty earlier on. Surely no such danger at the sloping car park of the Ship at Portishead next week?!
Run 846, 5th October 2022.
The Sawyer's Arms, Nailsea.
HARE: Down & Dirty.

Run 845, 28th September 2022.
The Moorend Spout, Nailsea.
HARE: Caught Short and Anydoggledo.
WHO: 5 + 2 + 1 hashers.
RUN REPORT: "It's so easy to be lonely in a crowd". Not as lonely though as flour that braved a 4pm downpour to keep popping up here and there sufficiently to keep an initial Famous Five without Timmy the dog together against many odds. To blend On Out with On In certainly helped inspire bravado, a necessary quality in picking out the chalk checkpoints that did a better survival job than flour. No less a lift came from a runner walker split around a big oak and the field it had taken up residence in, with a trio of runners pretending to get lost and the hares keeping their walking spirits up. It was at this unsheltered stage of both setting and completing the hash that wits really came into their own when spotting the lurking kissing gates that led out to a beer stop next to the Causeway, naturally giving up by this stage on any BRBs being present. What with it being beer day, I took my best ever (and worst ever) sip of the stuff in order to fortify a charge along to where motorists have previously charged at a much bigger pack - the head torches thus ensured we were given the proper respect. To show that the flour had lost none of its stoicism, the lone fish hook for apparently all 5 still seemed discernible enough, even if 2 of the non-hares doing it twice turned out to be a premature decision. For it was while gorging on a sweet stop serving of Minions, jelly beans, dolly mix, bananas and shrimp that a bobbing head torch or two came into view! Step forward (admittedly on the wrong side of the river initially) Walky Talky and Bumburner who had made it here through stubbornness, wits and a bit of head torch pursuit, but certainly not with common sense. It soon transpired that Bumburner had the additional motivation of getting back in time for a 9pm order of pie 'n' chips, so sweet stop remnants were a mere appetiser. Otters were meant to be on the visual menu but we settled for an undoubted audio performance by them instead, getting back to the tarmac checkpoints in time for Bumburner to go all GPS in his quickest pursuit of the bar; so much for us completing it as a Secret Seven. Timing was of course still near to impeccable at 8:45pm, so that lengthy beer stop was very much vindicated as without it Bumburner and Walky may still be standing there waiting for their sweets now...
ON ON ON: Thanks to a few butterfingers to go with the jelly babies, we toasted Caught Short having feasted on Mud, Sweets and Beers throughout this exclusive hash and thrash around in the dark; do not think for one down down (or one pie 'n' three chip servings) that less sweets will be served up less than a hash away at the Sawyer's Arms next week...
Run 844, 21st September 2022.
The Woodborough Inn, Winscombe.
HARES: Peeping Tom and Sticky Fingers.
WHO: 10 houndless hashers plus 2 visitors.
RUN REPORT: With only two Bogs appearing at the traditional time for Father Abraham, it was going to take a tsunami to reach ASS hash numbers, though we were certainly happy enough with a squall particularly as the hares were among them. Telegraph Pole Appreciation Day (that's the power line sort, not the newspaper being Anti-Brexit) duly kicked off with a briefing of many coloured arrows courtesy of the national grid rather than the pavement, so this flour crisis must be biting hard. On Out was an R/W no less, with part of the briefing obviously not hitting home enough for us to notice a red arrow on one such pole. Duly lectured, we opted instead to miss an arrow on the ground leading us out to the comfortably green (and at one point Clippity Cloppity from yonder equidae) approach to St James the Great Church. With the ascent that accompanied it, we foolishly anticipated the sweet stop that Peeping Tom assured would be split open when we reached our highest point; it transpired we were clearing the palate for a further uphill traipse to Barton Drove, and then another uphill traipse past the Farm that all variety of Mendip Challengers head past at one point. Territorial barking from within turned out to belong to a Golden Retriever that wouldn't even harm an over-Eager Beaver, so a torches-down regroup at the real top (although we could have gone further uphill ahead and right) along with more telegraphic fun facts and quiz questions seemed most prudent. One could even chew over the long anticipated wine gums and.........Squeegee Clouds if stumped for an answer about poles, so with the strain now on the brain a downhill towards the car park beneath King's Wood was just as welcome. On the way a fish hook lurking underneath an arrow on a very natural and leafy-looking telegraph pole needed to be pointed out by Peeping Tom before it was properly obeyed, but while nobody was claiming to be in rush yet we certainly could not bypass another Strawberry Line sojourn with its tunnel having had a bike-friendly makeover. The nature reserve popped up with an idyllic and peaceful contribution too, namely lulling us off our guard sufficiently for Cinderella (not quite at midnight) to confuse the direction of an on arrow and for walking the remaining fish hooks to be the norm. A 9:15 On In suddenly seemed miraculously not-so-off-the-charts...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: "What shall we do with a bunting tosser" proved popular for a co-hare who had got off his semi-sickbed for laying this poles apart plod, meanwhile Long John had at least come with an Autumn head torch if not a top for a few seconds at the the start, plus the novelty emerged of DickieDido being the only trail participant (by now Briggy and Ballsport had swelled us) to be unacquainted with Greyhounds, Bristol, K&A, Mendip and co! Time then for the fame of the flour to spread further at a but-once-Bogged Moorend Spout next week!
Run 843, 14th September 2022.
The Jubilee Inn, Flax Bourton.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 13 hashers.
RUN REPORT Written by Cinders: With numbers swelled by Bristol hashers Sweat Monster and Hot Fuzz, we headed to the first runner/walker split near Flax Bourton village hall before joining up again on part of the Festival Way cycle route. Following paths which went through the North Somerset Showground fields, we then crossed the Land Yeo - which downstream flows past the back of Cinders and KC's house in Clevedon - and stopped mid field for a Baclava stop (although it was Cream Filled Doughnut Day, the supermarket didn't have a tray of them). Revisiting the Festival Way we crossed over it and meandered the back streets of Flax Bourton before arriving back at the pub, where Brigadoon, Ballsport and a very shortcutting Coppertone were waiting for us.
CIRCLE & ON ON: As well as the Hare, Sweat Monster and Hot Fuzz were welcomed back, Bumburner and Down Dirty rewarded for their shortcut, and Inchworm noted for forgetting that a Turrnback is different from Fishhook, and everyone is supposed to turnback, not just keep going after the first 2 turnback.
Run 842, 7th September 2022.
The Siren's Calling, Portishead Marina.
HARES: Kerb Crawler and Cinderella.
WHO: 18 houndless hashers and 1 visitor.
RUN REPORT: Old cider in a new bottle indeed. Thankfully proceedings at a probably-new-for-Bogs venue did not get underway with a dagger thrust into unsuspecting sailors' hearts; merely a rogue arrow from Bumburner which pointed out to boats not yet shipwrecked. Many were still nonetheless led astray thanks to an early runners' loop around the Full Fathom Five and Ox as always on display for Bogs, to the extent that walkers were the ones who came out with the classical excuse of a fish hook for 4 being morphed into an arrow (Kerb Crawler had already quite rightly called me out on not knowing which way an arrow was pointing, so perhaps drunken sailor shenanigans were to be the order of the day). Once we had made our own welcome with a regroup to Portbury Wharf Nature Reserve (including freight views on the horizon, just to confirm it was Portbury), we learned that we were on the patch of Murphy the warden dog, who presumably had other hashers to round up rather than making an appearance to compensate for us having a canine off night. Navigating the reserve every which way but the wrong one included highlights like a speed split even briefer than the On Out type, Backchat once again taking up the reins as Frontchat and a lot of checking out being completed by an evergreen Coppertone. The latter may well have been down to a malevolent leaf concealing a turnback for 2, and thus the FRB rescue mission that went with it, but once back with the suburbs Portishead proved once again that it is practically self-aware when it comes to keeping us guessing what new building is going to spring up in the middle of a trail next. Again with the absent dogs theme (ish) - Newfoundland Way signalled the start of the siren song back to home port, all opting naturally for the promenade version of On In and catching up with Down and Dirty who was continuing her limber up for an imminent hashing return with the walk from car to pub.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Too many stinging nettles or too much Summer garb? Kerb Crawler was left to decide this as she somehow gets another year even wiser tomorrow. Walking fish hookers were them thar Eager Beaver and Bumburner and a return of Rocky Horror seemed quite apt for the pub name. Jubilee Inn at Flax Bourton for Cream Filled Doughnut Day beckons next week, now that sounds like quite a smorgasbord....
Run 841, 4th September 2022.

The Masons Arms campsite, Odcombe.
HARES: Brigadoon and Ballsport.
WHO: 38 hashers, 1 hound and 5 VIP administrators.
RUN REPORT: Don't ever think of getting it right, Met Office. In the buildup to this ASS's emergence there had been fears expressed for tents and hashing stalwarts every bit as much as the flour and ribbons, yet after a Friday pitch-up with chilli aplenty and a sojourn across crop remnants to the Royal George Inn in near-to-nearby West Coker, all that descended on our Saturday breakfast was the eerie mist that preceded last year's scorcher. Not quite Factor 50 standard, but demanding sharp enough wits at On Out to discern between pink arrows for runners, healthy green ones for the walkers and a few surviving Ukrainian ones from the night before. We were lucky not to incur wrath for inadvertent sweet snaffling from Friday too (it wouldn't even make sense if you were there, so just keep calm and carry the sweets on), which may explain some of the explaining of ourselves we did to traffic at an early crossroads and Bumburner's bold decision to adopt the early runners' loop with a promised viewpoint. He needed none of the resident equines' assistance to keep up the pace, after all hopping and skipping was the best way to avoid all of the badgers' traps that had been sett for us, plus the novelty of sand since no ASS hash has ever ventured especially near a beach. To reach that viewpoint a segment of ducking and diving with both traffic and corn was necessary (Fondue stopping to tie her pink laces; perhaps everyone was following them rather than the ribbons), but once the viewpoint reared its pretty head the continuing absence of walkers was but a trifle. Looking Northwards, a hashing politician would say "the cows in Tinker's Bubble are brown", a hashing logician would say "no, of the cows in Tinker's Bubble, at least 12 of them are brown", and a hashing mathematician would say "no, there are at least 12 cows in Tinker's Bubble, all of which appear to have at least one brown side". Not surprisingly when thinking that deeply, scribe witness statements went the way of the BRBs who fell a little further behind courtesy of the photo ops in a gully right on Somerset's waymark - on the way down through Mirkwood we took the hint when the first non-hashers of the day remarked "you're all very spaced out" (presumably not meaning on cider). A furious pace had to be set then particularly as Briggy's first intended pub stop, the cider farm in East Chinnock, was not to be drunk dry this ASS around. Of perhaps higher concern was the runners doing many a loop to collide with the back of the pack and looking a little lost for the right way on; thankfully no safety car was needed as Software and Dongle provided the perfect refreshment stop to reunite the pack, albeit GCSE Bitesize-style.

Good to get over that wall, for runners now turned their attention to blue chalk and ribbons (I wouldn't put it past Briggy to mass produce blue flour as well) to dice first with cattle who looked well used to rambling in their own way and then A30 traffic (likewise). Ripe, bulging blackberries were too tempting to search for any shortcut past, and thus kept up the al fresco theme that preceded the great irony of how the pack could fully reconvene at...The Muddled Man Inn. Yours huffedly-puffedly would have fulfilled a pledge to Briggy to complete all the runners' routes, but for the daunting prospect of approaching this pub stop solo over a knoll and so the back of the pack was begrudgingly chosen. A landlord carved in stone, plenty of benches and a flowery hash flash op soon put that portion of lactic acid to bed, perhaps in anticipation of the long runners' loop that was to follow.

Bidding another off-the-ground farewell to our noble Briggy, a football pitch with Ukrainian corner flags certainly gave 6 lonely runners the necessary inspiration to scale the many heights that followed, and the occasional down down tease! For the sign pointing ahead to the Cat Head Inn made a dog's dinner of the ribbons that led us in a different direction (the truth will out as to whether walkers sneaked a quick pint there on their own way); all deception could and would be forgiven as a Ploughmans from Heaven (pickled onions being the key) descended at the Lord Nelson in Norton-sub-Hamdon (I wasn't going to substitute any of the ham either). Down and Dirty had proved well up to her promotion from taxi to scene shifter (perhaps even looking to return to flat hashes soon), but the next runners' route was of the unequivocal Rambo variety...

Filing out of the Lord Nelson would have given little such warning - after all, the frolicking five even thought they had gone straight back to the walkers early on, but then a prowling pink arrow was spotted and duty had to call. If our famous Monk's Steps it were not, that was only because both the gradient and length were of the more punishing variety; viewpoints overlooking from whence we huffed did of course keep up the motivation (and possibly even justify those recent steep Wednesday trails from Eager as mere warm-ups), but nothing helped us to reach the summit more than what was on it - a war memorial every bit as befitting for our toasted Koko and Rebore. Shed a tear - drink a beer! Runners it seemed did not know their own weakness as we stood briefly waiting for walkers to catch up; then the communal arrows pointed past Ham Hill Millennium Stones (arch hash flashes and all) to the Prince of Wales perhaps up for a little re-branding now. Long John and Eager may well have known the outbreak of bluetongue and redtongue that followed bubblegum and mango sorbet ice cream; it was of course a premonition of the purple arrows that most of the to-ing and fro-ing pack now had to adopt for their return journey.

Upon resumption, mention cannot be overlooked of Deep Throat and Red Light deciding that this promised segment of the trail was not Everestian enough to defy them, and so the whole shebang managed to take in the trail's last woodland realm. They no doubt would have sung Briggy's praises all night had they known of his omission of the tower on St Michael's Hill (Uphill Beacon would have been dwarfed); by this stage in the day a slalom through sheep and the odd hole in dry stone walling was much more our pace and saving grace. The ignoring of a playground en route could obviously be attributed to the absence of a zip wire, and for many the Kings Arms Inn around the corners became the beer swansong. Down and Dirty had proved well up to planning her own trail all the way uphill to the end of the pub garden, where Pass The Pigs retained its place in the fun and games pecking order and Double D was quite justified in feeling that the last rolls had been fixed in my favour (that ought to stir anyone's interest). Deep Throat and Red Light kept up our Porlock-originating faith by arriving just in time for the 5 minute warning, and although I said beer swansong, a few managed to stay around long enough at the practically neighbouring Phelips Arms for its spirits opening hour.

Near Best till last, one last runners' loop preceded a march through the stationary cattle and ent-dwarfing trees of the grounds of Montacute House, with the hares sneaking the most deserved of shortcuts past one row of trees and a little traffic calming on Yeovil Road keeping our chins up high. In quadrupedal terms it really was the best till last, with the alpacas of Willow Farm out to wave a chequered flag eerily similar to one of the ribbons from earlier, ownership of which was not to be claimed by our huffed and puffed out hares.

CIRCLE: To administer this to such a standard without down downs was impossible - Briggy, Ballsport and 0.5 Eagers took the hare plaudits, Cowslip provided the most grown up option in the kitchen and Latecomer fulfilled all admin duties but also napped in a pub; happens to the most worn out of us. Runners in chief had been Dickiedido, Caught Short and Long John, while Software shut down briefly in the circle (Double D proved that the campfire in the dark was a better time for that) and the ice cream bandits constituted Rosie, Swastika, Mad Max and Nose Job. The circular highlight though went to a raised glass/flour bottle each for Rebore and Koko - great hashers no doubt still thinking alike (we had certainly travelled high enough today to be that much nearer to them).

ON ON ON: Giant marshmallows were garnished with a few firepits as afters for Briggy's cosmopolitan curry complete with the same sort of onion bhajis and naans that Rebore once drove over, all in time to finish off birthday cake and Mars bar crunch from the Software-non-failure. Even with Cowslip's campfire songs to lull us by, ultimately no Sunday Olympian could have functioned on all that grub, and so Sunday morning went and came in time for the rain to finally settle in, and then to send Bogs and Greyhounds bolting like lightning from a flash flood at Rowberrow the day after. Very very frightening!!

Run 839, 31st August 2022.
The Walnut Tree, Weston-Super-Mare.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 19 hashers.

RUN REPORT written by Cinders:
Eager continued his theme from last week with a route that had a lot of up in it, certainly for the first 2.5 miles. At least we had a some lovely sunset views near the top - and a sweety stop.

And then it definitely went downhill after that, with fading light, steep narrow paths and slippery stones underfoot reminding everyone that hadn't this week, to bring their head torches next week. With the long ascent and narrow paths slowing us down a bit, Eager had a unanimous response to the question "would you like a shortcut now?", so we weaved our way back via various back paths with at least half the hash almost missing the steps leading into the back of the pub carpark.
CIRCLE & ON ON: Although it was Eat Outside Day, most of us just settled for drinks as we sat in the pub garden. Fondu was noted for abandoning Mudlark behind an un-leapable hurdle, and then also deciding to give the woodland trail a very close inspection, Backchat for saving on her batteries, and Baglady for not talking loud enough to let the fishhookers know that she was further behind on the trail. Susan from W-S-M/Cyprus/W-S-M, foolishly commented on the unsteady lower section of a style that we had to climb over, and is now known to all hashers as "Wobbly Bottom".
Run 838, 24th August 2022.
The Sidcot Arms, Winscombe.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 9 hashers on the route (plus 3 who found the unmarked route - from the lower car park to the pub!)
RUN REPORT (written by Deputy Scribe, Cinders): This hash defied the laws of nature, as after following a brief section of Bridgewater Road there was definitely more uphill than down. And the high point of the hash, both literally and figuratively, came when we came across two distressed sheep stuck between a wire fence and a stone wall. Whilst Peeping Tom was on the phone to his local contacts to make sure the local sheep owners could pinpoint their location for rescue, would ewe believe it but Long John and Long John Silver managed to give the sheep enough space to get away by themselves - which was no baaad thing. ["Please stop!" - Ed.} A sweety stop shortly after gave us delightful views of South West Somerset, where we were joined by some heavy breathers and at first Walky Talky was a bit concerned about exactly who was just behind her shoulder, but it was just a few ponies come to see what we were up to. Then it should have been downhill all the way back to the pub but Eager even managed to make even this section go uphill for most of the way.
CIRCLE & ON ON: After checking that Briggy Ballsport and Down & Dirty had managed to follow the unmarked trail to the bar, everyone that did the slightly longer trail ended up with a down down for some reason or another.
Run 837, 17th August 2022.
The Grove Sports and Social Club, Nailsea.
HAREs: Walky Talky and Kerb Crawler.
WHO: 17 hashers.
RUN REPORT written by this month's Scribe, Ciders: Almost as soon as we left the Grove's confines we came across the first of many checkpoints as we wound our way down via differing routes to Backwell Lake for a sweety stop just after passing a family of preening swans and cygnets at the side of the lake, Then a check point sent hashers scurrying in various directions before finding both the walkers and runner routes to take us under the railway line and Backwell bound before hitting the fields for the meandering way back to the Grove. This time we crossed over the railway line, which caused a quick check to make sure that no hashers were stuck on the front of the Weston Super Mare bound train that went whizzing by just as the last of the main pack had crossed the line, The final stretch through a section of rough woodland in the rapidly darkening evening remined us to start bring our headtorches for future hashes. Then sitting outside the back of the Grove, drinks in hand, we waited for DT and Redlight to come in, peering regularly across the field which was the route On In, as the darkness started to fall. Mild concern was just starting to turn to (well) mild concern, as the down downs may have to go ahead without them, but finally Double D spotted them approaching - from a completely different direction!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: After tucking in to bread and cheese provided by the Grove, and then cupcakes provided for cupcake day by Walky Talky, the hares were praised/berated for the number of checkpoints, DT and Red Light rewarded for (eventually) getting back, Virgin Fiona welcomed, Peeping Tom punished for trying fell trees with his head, and Cinderella told to Get a Life for being the first BOGS hasher to reach 700 r*ns.
Run 836, 10th August 2022.
The Dolphin, Uphill.
HARES: Ballsport and Brigadoon.
WHO: 26 hashers, 3 hounds and 1 visitor.
RUN REPORT: Bake at 30 degrees for 65 minutes rather than 90 when using a fan assisted oven; makes about 26 hashers browned. Lazy Day saw Brigadoon handing the hare reins to the ever reliable Ballsport and thus the tried trails were mostly trusted. A trickle of hashers lined up at the almost neighbouring Ship Inn before being reminded that this was a Dolphin fin-tow rather than a cruise on the high seas; the early stages even saw the beating down sun disguise a runner/walker split sufficiently for a few "off the grounds" to mosey along with the "on the grounds". Upon completion of the meanders in a Severn Channel direction, the sharp-eyed spotted first the See Monster continuing to take shape in the distance, followed by the successful runners cutting a swathe across the golden sand. Some even decided to go all Chariots of Fire through the sea's very shallow end; by the time they had caught up Briggy's latest creation of a stomped-in-the-sand regroup had been marked and called in the direction of the yacht clubhouse. A mile in the other direction and we would have been in donkey ride territory; instead there were plenty of horses being exercised near Black Rock though only the hashing presence were hardy enough to head closer to the River Axe. Brean Down naturally lit up / silhouetted the proceedings too, so much that it was hard to believe our arrival at the Marina came too early even for a Briggy On In. Earning our keep thus had to include a runners' double loop around the nature reserve as a prelude to rolling Uphill to the namesake beacon for more than a few photo-ops; the resident bovines seemed curiously lacking in curiosity when it came to all of those On On screams that resounded up, down and around them. Never one to be second guessed, Ballsport managed to march us down again while bypassing Old Church of Saint Nicholas but keeping all of the views intact - we even managed the very same despite all of the potential rocky horrors on the way down. Time to turn us out onto a wire rack to cool...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: "Grand Old Duke" and "Beside the Seaside" were the musical tributes rather than highlights, as was Down and Dirty braving the heat for a game of social catchup. Ropey had his bottle returned from last week though he may have not gone this long without hydration, virgin celebrations included Sofia plus Plum Sucker with his Common Wealth of hashing experience and the beach trihashletes stepped/swam/leapt up in the form of Walky Talky, Long John and Anydoggledo. Bristol hashers recently drank and ate the bar dry and bare at the Grove Sports Centre in Nailsea; next week that's Bogs' problem!
Run 835, 3rd August 2022.

The Butchers Arms, Yatton.
HARE: Anydoggledoo.
WHO: 29 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: By all means it was Grab Some Nuts Day, though it was hard to keep calm and check them what with such a vibrant and cosmopolitan hash up for grabs. It included Maria on exchange from Seville but looking for refreshment even better than oranges, junior returnees Footloose, Horseplay and Banksy and a lot of plane-spotting overhead, even if we did not ascend enough for a Grand Ol' Duke. On Out provided much merriment to one local non-hasher who was much more used to seeing throngs of sheep around Brook Farm; no less wondrous a sight to our stalwarts was Backchat becoming Front-Chat with Cinders, possibly thanks to the runners being out steaming across Steamcross to a regroup. Those still faithful in the power of dock leaves were soon left with an inconclusive outcome of their treatment of one nettle sting, but none could argue the case for turning back in a pub-like direction at a mere 2000 hours. In fact it was just upon the Yatton-Claverham boundary that we branched left towards Cadbury Hill; although Grand Ol' Duke made his promised non-appearance, nothing was going to keep a fish hook away from the ascent, and nor was anything going to rein in Peeping Tom and Sticky Fingers from its completion. Feel free too to grab some legumes, seeds (for those are aren't nuts about them), skittles and of course photos at the SSVP still beneath the Hill Fort - runners and walkers alike were going to need their senses alert to find a way back to non-civilisation again without a stumbling block thrown in. Hallucinating the wrong On On due to some aspiring magic mushroom may have actually helped the walkers' cause, for at least they stayed as a pack unlike the runners who reappeared in a selection of fragments that clung doggedly to their belief that On On had been called from afar rather than yonder. That just so happened to be Deep Throat and Bumburner whom they had doubted the credentials of, and so the sudden appearance of another long loop for them seemed suddenly very popular even at this On In stage of events. Good time then for a back garden you could easily fit an ASS in...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Having been well fed on pea-legumes and cashew-drupes, a few far from moderate servings of fish 'n' chips 'n' burgers still appeared long before any returning runner. Bumburner's unconventional seating arrangement promoted him to the role of aspiring pole dancer for the evening (don't get rid of that signature staff though!), while Peeping Tom presumably had recently introduced himself to the police using his handle, the juniors had run enough rings round us to aim for next week's return and Gina shall henceforth be known as Fun Guy for consuming that Magic stuff on the downhill. We may be commandeering a Dolphin at Uphill on Lazy Day next week, but it's a Briggy trail so I expect the bottle knows what's coming!
Run 834, 27th July 2022.
The George Inn, Abbots Leigh.
HARE: Deep Throat and Fondue.
WHO: 21 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Cometh the GM, cometh the Father Abraham! Every which way including On In was checked at On Out to keep up with the warm-up theme, eventually settling on a runner/walker split which nearly threatened to recruit Bumburner into the former and Peeping Tom into the latter! Stories and paces duly swapped, the running contingent would have soon started to feel lonely were it not for Red Light adopting the sort of conduct that tends to present one with a "Backchat" handle - a good thing then that none were left behind on the stairs down to a regroup where tried and tested left was substituted with dark and mysterious right. Running escapades were not finished by any means - had it not been for the moment (officially defined as 90 seconds) delay caused by a T2, they would have been mown down by a resident BMXer coming from walkers' neck of the woods; as it transpired the uphill was thus clear for our ascent. Divine intervention may also have prevented such an accident when Peeping Tom was reined in by a camouflaged fish hook; all well and good though as the way on at a oft-regrouped crossroads was confirmed by Red Light kissing a nearby gate. This inability to keep FRBs in check led to a somewhat yawning gap opening up between those emerging onto Weir Lane and the GM (certainly not genetically modified) hare. A more off-the-ground hare hand was thus sought from Fondue and Walky Talky when the revelation of a Scotch Day whisky stop emerged alongside Abbots Pool. So welcome was this that it even brought Bumburner and Peeping Tom back from their upstairs "checking it out", and not even the flintiest hearted Bog was going to abandon the hares to their fate after that. For me the additional marshmallowsh proved effective at shoaking up the whishky; in fact we all seemed quite full of faculty by the time Deep Throat and Red Light joined us back on the up. Anybody with Clawed Balls-standard arrival time may have come across the back marking that merged On In with On Out and decided 'twas merely to be a very short hash, at least they would have beaten the out in force insects back to the great indoors...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: ...except that we conquered the back garden and the biters were content with their home in West Tanpit Wood for the evening. To the tune of pizza and chips tasting anything but flat we decided it had been up and down enough for a "Grand Old Duke" down down, plus genuine hashing virgin Wendy (friend of Bag Lady Junior Zoe) was welcomed to the deep end as many have recently been. Peeping Tom and Bumburner had to get up and down again for that premature On On, time will tell if the Butchers Arms in Yatton next week has an altitude problem...
Run 833, 20th July 2022.
The Landing Light, Weston-super-Mare.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 13 hashers.
RUN REPORT written by Cinders: Two new hashers joined us tonight, one causing potential confusion as he claimed to be named Long John, despite looking nothing like the real Long John. Once we started Eager's route was devoid of hills, and maybe we should have brought our bicycles as we seemed to follow a lot of the walker/cycleway paths that have sprung up around the newer parts and industrial/shopping areas of greater Weston. With (the real) Long John, Long John Silver and Cinders all opting to walk to try to recover from various leg/feet injuries, it was a very select few who opted for the runners routes, although there were slightly more strenuous activities on display when we had a sweety stop next to some outdoor Gym activity points.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Sitting inside the Landing Lights we had a slightly quieter rectangular circle, and as we welcomed our two new hashers, the one who claimed to be Long John was reminded by the other BOGS virgin, Cheeks Out for the Boys, that his name was actually Little John ( and there was me thinking that hash names are so much easier to remember than "real" names) - he'd have had a down down for that if he wasn't already having a down down for being a BOGS virgin. They were also joined by Ropey's friend Gina who, despite having been on one BOGS hash before had not previously been de-floured to officially lose her BOGS virgin status.
On On to somewhere in Abbotts Leigh next week - probably the George, but keep a look out for WhatsApp/email/website confirmation.
Run 832, 13th July 2022.

Avon Way Car Park, Portishead, later Hare Hosting at Brendon Road.
HARES: Juniors Faceplant and (I think!) Princess Whippy.
WHO: 13 hashers and Mudlark, thankfully not served in a finger bun.
RUN REPORT: Spit-roast the Sweet Stop Snatcher!!! First though, taking after their Trailblazer kin, the hares only proved needy of Woodcut's parental support rather than hare-meistering, and even that was up for debate as they sped off out of the traps towards The Downs. Many a twist and turn had already deflected us towards one of our favourite stomping grounds, with characteristically docile cattle parting for a guard of honour style entrance to Weston Big Wood not in Weston but still quite big. Walkers skimmed sticks and stones on the edge of it while runners trusted as much to Portishead instinct so as to reach a checkpoint - head left and we probably would still be looking for the walkers now, head right and we were still very much a chasing pack. As if in premonition of the ultimate prank to a hasher, Merlin Park crossed our track with a zip wire minus the zip and a skatepark which flour symbols shied away from - we nonetheless suspected little as we took in the sights of the channel in danger of emptying again, followed by the zigzag in considerably drier conditions than on our last sojourn. Behold narrow and rarely Bogged footpath to lead us out to Black Nore Lighthouse and the snaffled sweets! It probably wasn't the black headed gull surfers' club that was in the role of onlooker, nor was it lighthouse keeper Bill who trusted hashers more than snafflers to head up a show and tell ladder in search of both a T20 (number of rungs) and a panoramic viewpoint. Scaredy Beavers merely were thankful for water and cider not being stolen, and by the time all had descended again it almost seemed worthy to revive the hoi-coki warmup. Still out for blood but no more ramped up, remaining highlights included a swell on Sugar Loaf Beach, convincing ourselves that a golf course does remain among the reeds by the Windmill and making way for a vessel powered by man over sea at the sailing club. With more than a few ups still to follow those downs, sunset may have threatened to beat us to the BBQ, but alas impeccable timing meant that Cheers Drive was just lighting up as we touched down (a magnifying glass probably would have sufficed).
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: A few medium rare hashers were not going to let hostess, haring and the sausage minding duties of Fondue go without a down down, nor was the latter going to let sausage minding duties get in the way of providing those evergreen pecan pies. Hopefully never again will sweets be made to feel that much lower down the pecking order than flour or sausages stuck in cider; the first precaution against theft will be to keep the Landing Light on in Weston next week...
Run 831, July 6th 2022.
The Ebdon Arms, Weston-Super-Mare.
HARES: Software, Dongle and a live W.Ankle.
WHO: 18 hashers and Mudlark.
RUN REPORT: Returning to the site of our loyal hound's long distant debut, the hares chose to embrace International Kissing day with crosses over falses plus pink and white chalk, perhaps teasing us now that it was marshmallow roasting weather. Pretending that On Out was not On In proved easy for all; it was of course a warm-up for runners to wade through the tall grass out to St Lawrence's Steeple while the walkers opted for the more rustic way through bovine shiggy and a bridge which mother nature wanted to seize from our grasp. Thankfully the only staring contest thrown into that mix was not with cattle but with the runners who came gamboling in from the North in time for us to cut a swathe through the crops that have previous when it comes to impeding a hash through them thar plains. It had taken 0.4 hashes for me to realise that Software was doing all of this in one-plastered-arm-bandit style, though a hospitable offer to write the trash on the cast was turned down in favour of conquering more runners routes out on the May 4th Be With You trail, again with cows opting to keep their young and themselves away. The last such loop was done at more of a stop-start than a gentle jog, enough to let the ever steady Bumburner get well ahead but also for a solitary fish hook to send 5 FRBs perhaps a lot further back than they had bargained for. A perfect way thus to earn an al fresco beer stop alongside the River Banwell (thankfully we had not flowed that far out):
CIRCLE: No problem with alternating savoury and sweet here - haribo from many months under the hares' stairs tasted like any other pack, sausage rolls for all life choices quickly vanished and a few aspiring cherry trees were spat out. Kudos to the hares plus W.Ankle for stepping up very quickly to keep the runners on leads, Peeping Tom for playing catch up Clawed Balls-style and recent returnee Bovver for following neither R nor W in a field (possibly looking for Rewind's F and S from yester-week). Of non-down-down but certainly noteworthy mention was a coming of age for Faceplant, lolloping off to do the runners' route without Woodcut and likewise with the fish hook that stretched back a long way. Oh, those hashers of mine....
ON ON ON: Behold a back room that the ASS hash could fit into plus some chocolates with romantic messages from Bumburner - "if the kissing gate does not return your feelings, then you need time apart". Woodcut and Faceplant also stepped straight up to the plate for next week's haring plus BYOBBQ. Embrace Your Geekness Day indeed!
Run 830, 29th June 2022.
The Salthouse, Clevedon.
HARE: Rewind.
WHO: 18 hashers and 2 for afters.
RUN REPORT: It all turned out much like a hash and splash even for those who did not venture into the "Marlens Lake", what with the post-mini-heatwave precipitation on offer. Rewind (oddly minus his mac) introduced us to Rebore tribute fish hooks at On Out, requiring talking all the way until you reached the back of the pack - he will definitely smile down on that. It all started with a "Now You See Poet's Walk, Later You'll See More Of It", hiking through the pub garden for what would have been too short a trail even for a bar-drying Briggy. The base of Wayne's Hill beckoned yonder with many spray painted council arrows confusing us with their flour resemblance; what better way to make sure you were still on trail than an unconventional F/S split for fast and slow on the approach to Marshalls Field and the nutritious Land Yeo - a few dozen glances back raised fears that it had been one confusion too many for sweepers Fondue and Deep Throat - therefore after hurdling fallen branches and scaling BMX tracks a phone call on one of the Rebore hooks confirmed they were still bringing up the rear. These fish hooks also sandwiched a few fishermen on the riverbank and inspired at least a half mile huff and puff back from whence in order to locate our grandmaster and pavlova / pecan pie purveyor par excellence. Once located they were able to spot the storming of Poet's Walk in earnest in the distance, supposedly featuring a banana stop though us BWBs knew better than to expect any skins left there as evidence. What with the heavens now opening like it was Black Wednesday-come-Friday, the On Out had its arm twisted behind its back specially to coincide with the FRBs kitting themselves out for a shelter from the rain in the lake. All that could thus be left dry was the Salted bar...
ON ON ON: Red Light and Shadehunter (we all hunted shelter by this stage) joined in with cheering in vain for this year's Wimbledon efforts - clearly strawberries with sangria brings out better sporting performances. On on for equal prestige culinary efforts at the Ebdon Arms next week, whether or not it be as brand new as the promised trail!
Run 829, 22 June 2022.
Old Park Road, Clevedon.
HARE: Bum Burner.
WHO: around 20 hashers.
RUN REPORT written by Cinders: The day after the longest day of the year, this seemed as if it was the longest hash of the year. Bumburner's twisting, winding trail seemed to take in most of the scenic views of Clevedon, including the highs and lows, then yet more highs and lows, an onion ring stop with freshly cooked onion rings, a seafront, more highs and lows, and a final high to take us home. Along the trail the pack gained Peeping Tom and Sticky Fingers - who decided to start the hash with the On In - and almost gained Walky Talky, but lost her along with KC and 3s4d, who made an unscheduled stop at the Bristol Inn before finding bits of the trail back to the BBQ. Meanwhile the rest us had a very welcome iced water stop at Mouth to Mouth's front garden, before the final mile and a half climb back to Bumburner's, with the warm evening and an almost 5 mile trail leaving most of us too exhausted to do any cooking. Just as well that Up All Night did the sensible thing and avoided the hash, and instead got the BBQ ready with sausages and burgers sizzling away for us as we arrived back.
CIRCLE: Thanks were given to the Hare and Shade Hunter for the trail and venue, Up All Night was given the clap for his efforts, Rewind was noted for having returned from checking out the correct way at a checkpoint claiming not to have seen any flour, Trip Hazard demonstrated why she had received her name, and the rest of the bunch down downed for being there.
Run 828, 15 June 2022.
The Full Quart, Hewish.
HARE: Eager Beaver.
WHO: 20 hashers.
RUN REPORT written by Cinders: There were planes overhead, fields aplenty, a stream to cross, a few hundred free range chickens to navigate through, a motorway to race alongside, a railway line to cross ( with a passing train managing to split the pack), a sweety stop and a beer stop (curtesy of Down & Dirty), a sunset at the pub - about the only things missing were any hills, which is just as well as this 4½ mile trail took us until 9 to get back to the pub...
Circle: DT was welcomed back to hashing after his hip op, Rocky was recognised for having escaped from Chicken Run, 3s4d for peeing on trail, and, Bryer was belatedly given the hash handle of Trip Hazard.
Run 827, June 8th 2022.
The New Inn, Kewstoke.
HARES: Peeping Tom and Sticky Fingers.
WHO: 20 hashers, all of them bipedal.
RUN REPORT: While still with a Spring in our step from a scribe's perspective, a large dose of wind, sunshine and long trail seemed the most appropriate of crowning glories. A tardy Eager and Ropey were forcibly hauled up first the daring step ladder on Monk's Hill and then Monk's Steps themselves, with one non-hasher on the way down meeting one more phalanx of hashers than they had bargained for. Those who had opted for the less precipitous way up to the steps were happy to let FRBs duck and dive their way around checkpoints galore of Worlebury. One such revelation was that W.Ankle's regroup from yester-month had finally disintegrated to make way for another trek into the woods, though a lot of the markings this time came in for vandalism rather than elemental ire. Runners thus opted for very loud "On On" bellowing to track and trace their way down to a trail that survived the vandalism perhaps due to no non-hasher being brave enough to stoop their way through the triffids ready to swallow us up. That clearly was not enough of a trial to merely earn jam, custard and jelly doughnuts underneath Spirit Tree and with the walkers relocated, because it also came with a wine gum garnish! Soon thereafter the walkers stumbled upon the increasingly common phenomenon of a checkpoint just for them, opting for the undergrowth rather than the branch to the left which would prematurely transmogrify them with the runners again. Oh, and there was still a lot of drama ahead - while not exactly Damsel in Distress mode, Ballsport certainly was the least deserving recipient of a thorn in her shoe, demanding a rescue operation from Briggy (albeit not of the fireman's lift sort), followed by downhills that slowly morphed into the type made by tyres, not battered footwear. Bumburner even appeared to tap his staff and teleport past one such Rambo route (no mean feat as the runners were still off in a different postcode), though even he could not forego the BMX track we emerged onto with the sunset already looking like that of a 9pm. Time enough though for us to Swan our way past Cygnet Hospital and resist the urge to set a BRB checkpoint or 5. Up the walkers!
CIRCLE AND ON ON ON: Discounting 3 locals who no doubt know a lot more about having a running problem, we had the bar to ourselves and duly toasted the hares with "Grand Old Duke" prior to emphasising the checkpoint theme with W.Ankle recording a 5 mile trail and Cinderella 4.3; perhaps the former could have heeded Walky Talky's novel approach of tying shoelaces while technically "obeying" fish hooks. Mention too to Brigadoon who will never be a thorn in any hasher's side or sole, plus returnees Bag Lady and Coppertone who proved as rusty as stainless steel. Pancake trail at the Full Quart next week as BBQ warm-up, per chance?
Run 826, June 1st 2022.

The Old Inn, Congresbury.
HARES: Dressing Down and Up All Night.
WHO: 16 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Strictly organised lack of chaos only. A pub hiding away from HRH hype began with low numbers for the dazzling sunshine on offer but was soon swelled by Mr and Mrs Peeping Tom plus Walky Talky seeing no means to navigate with her hand-held handle. By the time they had caught the pack though a horde of checkpoints had already been solved, no mean feat considering Dressing Down had only enough flour left for a single cupcake with which to back-mark them. One local had also offered us a politely declined hosepipe shower, thankfully it had not also been used on the flour as I think they are pretty used to the symbol in these parts. Then aptly along Venus Street the temperature started soaring - there came yonder a pack of runners who had trusted in Rewind for their navigation, and with valuable cider time lost the hare pointed them cattle-bound and wondered how much serious running would be needed to compensate. Nowt to be done about it in the meantime save for weaving through the resident equines and stopping on the riverbank for tangy haribo, albeit as an hors d'oeuvre for our hare's signature yummy Rocky Road. Oh so full of sugar, Walky Talky and the hare perked up with a runners' rescue mission after waiting the equivalent of an ASS circle for them, meanwhile FWBs set to solving a couple of checkpoints while avoiding the temptation of a DIY beer stop at the White Hart. Along one footpath much better manicured since we discovered it last year, a garden Buddha still smiled albeit with the secret message "sorry, no flour this time!" and so we stuck to the classic "against traffic" advice prior to taking in the sights of the local Riding Centre. One such resident even stood next to a gate long enough for it to be used as a mounting block, but that only seemed apt for the glorious past of Flour Power's haring exploits, and so having salvage a trio of the runners who had actually ignored Buddha's advice, we headed for "Briggy's Weir" to find some near-skinny-dippers doing the same, more or less in tandem with other runners relegating themselves to walking back along a short-short-cut. An 8:50 touch-down beckoned after a planned beer stop by the bridge, so taking into account those run-ragged shenanigans, I reckon perfect lengamp;th for a June pinch-punch...
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: There really were no Mendip hashers on hand to spice our sausages this time (Ropey garnishing his with cheesy chips), so congrats to the hare for keeping her composure as much as every other achievement plus a welcome return to Bumbag, inevitably sat alongside our other Bum. Out with the Old, Inn with the New at Kewstoke next week, probably with less red, white and blue.
Run 825, May 25th 2022.
The Druid's Arms, Stanton Drew.
HARES: Kerb Crawler and Fruitcake.
WHO: 25 hashers and 4 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Always a pleasure to splice with the Kennet and Avon Krew under the dry but chilly conditions that follow a Bogs deluge. The Gridlock in the car park set the tone for twisting in and out of the tall grass off of Sandy Lane (it probably wasn't Marram) prior to everyone seeming keen on the inadvertent short-cut where 1 flour blob rather than 3 prevailed. The inspiration came from Rocky Horror in denoting the "proper cut" of Opposite and Adjacent over Hypotenuse, thankfully with no stumbles either otherwise it would have been a repeat of his handle! Warmed up now in every sense, we then reached the K&A novelty of a pretty far-reaching runner/walker split. Each to their own, runners were treated to a double dose of cow-herding masterclasses by Le Carniveau and a shading by aspiring redwoods that might just have brought out the head torches had we stayed there for an hour-long beer stop. Downhill most of the remaining way, the walkers popped up at a fruit pastille stop and from then on it was down to the stalwarts to show the scribes how it was done - Sweaty Monster overtaking yours truly three times en route to On In with the cattle now seemingly indifferent - they obviously had not forgot our pre-2020 faces. Now, what the Mendip Hash could top that?
ON ON ON: No malice aforethought, but the genuine huffer and puffer Mendip hashers could turn up prior in these parts and say "nope, no hashers ordered sausages here!" and so the concept of us sticking them in 'cider would have to wait for there to be a jubilee theme! Happy hash especially though to a returning Uppy, Downy and Bryher in a pub where we may just have been overcrowded by the octogenarian celebrations on the other alcove of the bar. Old Inn with a young hound next week, anyone?
Run 824, 18th May 2022.

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

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

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

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

Run 817, 30 March 2022.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uppy and Downy's, Clevedon.
HARES: Dressing Down and Up All Night. WHO: 27 hashers.
RUN REPORT (by Cinders): If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise
If you go down in the woods today, you'd better...
...be prepared to lose the marked trail after the sweety stop - which everyone, including the hare, did. So everyone (we hope) in various subgroups of walkers and runners eventually found a variety of routes to manage the final mile out of the woods and back to Uppy and Downy's where a well lit BBQ was waiting for everyone's sausages.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: A few decided that a February BBQ was not for them and went straight home, but the rest of us enjoyed the mild weather and, for a second week, the Hare's received double down downs. This week Dressing Down's was for getting lost on her own trail and Up All Night for reaching his 100th hash recently and he was awarded the centurion's helmet and cloak for the privilege. The two neighbour virgins had gone home pre Down Downs, but Moneypenny and Droop, stalwarts of Greyhound HHH, were noted as being on their first BOGS hash. Walky Talky celebrated getting old, by being given two identical birthday cards signed, between them, by all present, and we remembered Rebore who would have been 70 a few days ago, with balloons, a cake, a toast, and lots of talking.
Run 809, 2 February 2022.
The Rising Sun, Backwell.
HARES: Bumburner.
WHO: 23 hashers.
RUN REPORT (by Cinders): It may have been Heavenly Hash day in the USA on the 2/2/2022, but it was Bumburner's devilishly devious hash day in Backwell, with numerous long loops for the runners and short cuts for the walkers keeping the pack very much together. Both the runners and the walkers were so keen that they bypassed the HH regroup so the Hare had to hastily rearrange the regroup about 15 yards away (after yet another long and short loop), where we were treated to some Heavenly Hash - which, apparently is a very tasty variant on a rocky road - prepared by the Hare's own fair hand. Then it was a fairly straightforward route across fields back to the pub, apart from the runners route which seemed to peter out in some bushes - "Oh yes" said the Hare, "I couldn't get through there either when I was laying the trail, so I turned around and came back"!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: The pub sensibly put us in a back corner which fitted our number very well, and we celebrated the recipe nickers who wanted to be able to replicated Bumburner's efforts, and reminded all those runners in the first loop who were almost led off trail into other fields, of the dangers of following Rewind. Finally the Hare was given two down downs, for setting the trail, and also for getting the pub to provide chips to celebrate his birthday.
Run 808, 26th January 2022.
The Bristol House, Weston-super-Mare.
HARES: Ballsport and Dressing Down.
WHO: 22 hashers and 1 hound.
RUN REPORT: Forever immortalised as the Burns Night hash that only made us stronger. The split of speeds at the start line gave little indication of what fate would throw, though the customary catchy uppy came via a grandmasterly Deep Throat effort rather than the usual Bum Burning or Clawing of Balls. A co-hare burdened by a bag of Irn Bru and Whishhhkeyy negotiated many a fish hook and uphill checkpoint, albeit with the sinking feeling that the pack had already shut up shop. Alas, the small group of FRBs ahead were not regrouping, they were tending to a walking wounded hasher! Up wheeled a good samaritan to hightail it On In to wherever a running problem wanted, and continuing the stranger lack of danger feel there was Missapp out discovering flour again and giving a very good indication as to On On. It just so happened to be an abandoned sweet stop ahead, for it takes All Sorts - some non-hashers were out in force in an unlit Grove Park shouting enough of their own form of friendly encouragement to send us firmly in the opposite direction. By the time a safer regroup came into view just beneath the woods, Dressing Down recruited a couple of porters to keep the drinking problem on ice until she lights a homely firepit a fortnight hence. All FRBs, MRBs and BRBs managed the floury ascent towards Weston's peak, the latter two groups even timing another speed split perfectly as a regroup bedecked with "Gone To Pub" stepped warily out of the darkness. We all needed a downhill for down down after that exhilaration, and the well bogged border of Ashcombe Park duly obliged.
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: A banished Bryher made do with Dressing Down and a tagging along Down and Dirty for car park company, plus a recipe for some always welcome Irn Bru cocktails. Well wishes too to the hares and walking wounded - classic Backwell Rising Sun in pitch black to follow next week.
Run 807, January 19th 2022.
The Kings Arms, Easton-in-Gordano.
HARES: inchworm and Coppertone.
WHO: 18 hashers and 2 hounds.
RUN REPORT: Armed with tried and definitely trusted hares the king's army of hashers hastened forth in search of checkpoints that still kept FRBs and co-hare confused as to the right way On Out, perhaps due to St George's church not choosing the right time to chime and instead leaving us with the novelty of looking for flour. In a not unheard of but still press-holding moment, checkpoints on the uphill had been left out specially for the walking fraternity, whose numbers included a Deep Throat nearly in deep schtum when checking it out, were it not for a local who invented a co-trail back to the pack with him. As it turned out the runners were busy rescuing Mudlark from a shiggy ditch - the end result was a hound not content with a Baked Alaska resemblance and instead an "upgrade" to Marble Cake. With such confectionary on the brain a sweet stop packed with wine gums and trail mix seemed a good thing to bob those head torches along to. Many classic Pill highlights followed - a hash flash of the Avonmouth Bridge, the recent possible Bogs debutant the Duke of Cornwall and a split of speeds in anticipation of storming the battlements on Watch House Hill. En route though many of the runners decided the shiggy ahead was more to their taste than the possibility of having to slalom around cyclists, and so a pincer movement was executed on the regroup on the mound to finish off that which remained from the sweet stop. Two walkers' routes was one too many for a scribe who finally decided to lift both feet off the ground shortly thereafter. This runners' loop constituted not only Channel 4's Brookside but also its eponymous open space (I'll believe anything Google Maps tells me) complete with shiggy that Mudlark seemed mysteriously intent on evading. No sooner had we morphed back into one then the neighbouring greenbelt came calling with promises of a pre-9 On In, albeit with the subterfuge of some pretty slippery steps ready to dump you over the finishing line (I thankfully speak from inexperience). Oh, and there might have been a Wolf Moon howling encouragement the whole trail!
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Venison pie had apparently been quickly down downed at the bar before we all lit it up; the K-9 rescue had been headed by Clawed Balls while Fondue halved out Deep Throat's half pint for his brief misdirection. Kilts up to the much welcome return of the haggis hash at the Bristol House next week - tartan obligatory, passports not so yet...
Run BOG, 12th January 2022.
The Bristol Inn, Clevedon.
HARES: Kerb Crawler and Cinders.
WHO: 32 hashers and 2 hounds - a January ASS hash?!
RUN REPORT: Plenty of those Run 806 t-shirts to get bogged down in, and too monstrously represented for traffic calming or even social distancing in the car park. Without the divine intervention of Deep Throat on the On Out and Up we may have still been storming the battlements of Dial Hill at time of writing; instead an against-traffic checkpoint preceded a runners' route with lashings of Turnback 2 and an alley whose local nickname does not belong on these pages. A timely catch-up with the walkers beckoned right outside the thankfully unnecessary Medical Centre; their numbers included a well-up-to-scratch Flour Power and Down & Dirty clearly out to set their own furious pace in the style of traditional catchy-uppies Bumburner and Clawed Balls. Once over the Land Yeo though our inner compass started to enter erratic mode - one such debate as to the pursuit of flour that wasn't there was even sandwiched by two subways. A good thing then that walker route 3 of 4 featured the assembly of distant runners back in a riverside manner, complete with a sweet stop clearly out to rival last week's dizzy fizzy heights. After taking our pick 'n' mix from bubbly Aeros, Celebrations, Trail Mix and After 7:55 Mints, nobody yet felt like trailblazing their own On Back in cowardice of the shiggy that lay ahead, above and beyond. Instead we cut a swathe through the most tucked away of footpaths to then emerge onto Davis Lane, in time though to separate FRB from MRB and BRB. A little recruitment of a scribe into the BRBs' ranks was not enough to deter Briggy, Ballsport and Flour Power from making their way back to the pub in the style of a flying crow - no matter as split second timing brought all plodders back together right alongside the clock tower signing 8:50. This was still too early for Down & Dirty to praise a lack of hills on the trail, for the drinking dry of the bar was already under way up yonder Chapel Hill....
CIRCLE & ON ON ON: Kudos to Down & Dirty and Flour Power (the lionesses that can certainly still bite) plus hares from this week and last. Alongside a Bogs virgin or two there were genuine virgins in the form of Dave and Kate, acquaintances of Cinders whom he has somehow never mentioned this running problem to. The former chugged his down down with somewhat more aplomb than the latter, and mention too must go to litter picker Bumburner and that trusty wooden staff. Nobody trusted a more flexible and unsavoury-looking latex model in the pub, perhaps reserved for the more traditional locals - we prefer to start getting our Yeovil ASS in gear, starting yester-week!
Run 805, 5th January 2022.
The White Hart, Wrington.
HARE: Any Dog'll Do.
WHO: 23 hashers and 1 dog'll do!
RUN REPORT: Never even the slightest threat of a dull moment - any Bog would do for the bog that threatened many times to swallow us whole, out to prove the point of a debut hare who has picked up the ropes as quickly as those muddy shoelaces. Pretending to dodge On Out traffic and checkpoint in tandem led to an early speed split - for runners the misplaced trust in gravel over shiggy caused a brief "ger orf moi land!" from both the local canine and homo sapiens populace, and so a gravel grovel it was to find some barbed wire had popped up since September, perhaps thinking of our proximity to the river and not wanting those walkers to have too much free rein of the woods above Cleeve. Debut hare novelty continued its theme when a regroup for runners only appeared out of the shiggy, followed by a double dose of prison-tally fish hooks on the tarmac uphill to the beckoning foliage. The pretty wafer-thin excuse for waiting for BRBs to catch up before completing said hooks was that time was needed to decipher them; no less excusable was missing an arrow that stopped a second dose of ger orf moi land from coming to the fore. By now news had filtered from ahead of Briggy and Ballsport playing early catchup with the bar, plus Bumburner completing his own catchup at the double. These "feet-on-the-floors" even needed reining in from the falses ahead once we had meandered a few woody crossroads on the up. Here Oreos, Pastilles and Purple Violets were the mere highlights of a regrouping that made us feel like big kids in a sweet stop - no amount of warning triangles though could prevent a landslide of hashers on the way down towards a potential hound recruitment conference yonder, so instead we relied on our sure footing and experience of these parts stretching back to the noughties. Complacency had inevitably been raised by that marching down from the top of the hill, and so it was time for nature to unleash the ankle deep assault course that few of the boarding kennel contingent barked encouragement for. Kerb Crawler, ever the stalwart, managed to cut the slightest of long cuts through the trees to avoid taking all of the shiggy home with her, but none could match the stoicism of lone hound Bryher who ended this shig-athon not like Mudlark's mere Baked Alaska, more a Mississippi Mud Trifle. There were obstacles overhead as well as underfoot, Inchworm in particular following a hunch to avoid the fallen branches that preceded civilisation down on Wrington Road. Time enough too to squeeze in another Runners' home run, conquering the local gymkhana with their own two feet and testifying that the Back Garden Buddha is still there watching over these trail parts - must have made us runner-walker converts regret our choice of keeping "with traffic" for On In.
ON ON ON: Pretty cosy looking from the outside, especially as Briggy is already underway in his introduction of his ASS to Yeovil for the first time this year. The oft-overlooked Bristol Inn beckons in Clevedon next week; poetic licence to haul along a few such eponymous hashers?

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