Nursing a sore head from the previous evening’s warm up session your intrepid hash scribe turned up an unheard of 20 minutes early only to find that most hashers (apart from the hosts) had already arrived. Indeed one had been there since 8am that morning – she was the block of ice on the petanque ground. There was a general scrum of t-shirts and (miracle of miracles) a banana-yellow coloured hash set off only 45 minutes late: possibly a Paris HHH timing best.
Oo La La, Just Stupid, Bender, and The Anarchist (hereafter: The Host of Hares) had done us proud with three trails (walkers, long, and stupidly long). With all that enthusiasm it’s a shame they’d only brought enough flour for one…
And so we walked, ran, and ran stupidly…
Through posh suburbs, through brambles, through sand, through horse sh*t, following poofs of flour that turned out to have been made by birds
Occasionally, the hares invited us to deviate from the path, crossing the channels surely meant to deter the unwise from entering the bramble-ridden forest. But let no one ever accuse a hasher of being wise.
The longest run at least until that point in the history of the parishhh 800th weekend reached an almost significant confusion point on discovering a W ontrail. While we were warned what W would mean, when we witnessed it out on trail, wondering why we’d wandered unwarily into the Walkers’ trail without worrying about its real (wheel?) meaning, which was (of course): Wmind Wthe Wbikes. Anyway, there were indeed bikes and most people managed to avoid being mown down, so that was all a bit of a non-event.
One of the high points of the run was the significant sandcastle…. and the second one was the mound immediately before the beer stop offering a view into the city (venue for run #801), where we failed to distract the two young already-occupants of the small summit. Summit crowding may have been alleviated by some shortcutters who may have followed the trail directly past this mound and direct to the beer.
And so we were at the beer stop, where the walkers and mediumists had already accumulated, and we stopped, and there was beer, but O no, virgins, this is not the end of the run. In fact far from it…. and so on-onwards through more forêts and encampments and one or two record-breaking chateaux.
Many, many days later… It was a distinctly croaky voiced RA that called us into the circle – due no doubt to some over-enthusiastic “on-oning” on the trail and not at all to do with her winkling several free shots out of unsuspecting bar owners the preceding evening.
As tradition dictates The Host of Hares were suitably punished for their foolish enthusiasm in setting three trails thereby seeming to have confused the hash with a running club. Anyway they drank for not enough check backs or hills and for trying to make up for a distinct lack of flour with horse *%&*.
We “welcomed” five virgins and then dealt with the FRBs suitably.
Hazukashi had brought some presents but not enough for everyone it seems so only the biggest bloke (Spermwhale) and a little lady (Princess Pussy) got the benefit. But they did look very fine in their new clothes.
The Host of Hares for bad writing.
Sperm Whale and Radio Ka Ka for the hash version of the French national anthem in a bikers bar (bravery or foolishness?)
Cosmo for getting lost on the way home the night before
Milky T and Shag on behalf of Shaggy who was taking a nap
Hashers coming from far away… must have lost feeling in my fingers by that point as it’s not noted…
All the Princess Pussys as the real PP shamelessly flashed her (now blue) legs
Iron Lady who turned up on trail at 8am
Speedy and all his fellow Princess Pussys for the beers
Where the F*** Are My T*ts (do children read the hash reports?) and Cock in a Box for smelling of beer – unlike everyone else…
There was a beautiful Danish singing interlude
Just Stupid, the Anarchist and all the Princess Pussys for marking the trail with little lacy things
Lots of hashers for shameless abuse of absinthe the previous evening
Cosmo for wearing a sand dune (the cold must have reached my brain at this point – no idea what this was all about…)
Hazukashi for excercising and Thirsty Thursday for hurting his exercise hand (with Hazukashi?)
All the Luxembourg Hash supposedly in homage to the Paris Hash but really just because they wanted more beer
Sleeping Sex for getting lost despite the poofs and for not knowing what chateau she was aiming for (the one that measures about 100,000sqm if anyone’s interested)
Burning Sensation for putting on a fashion show and Lemon Entry for wearing a kilt
This year there will be a major hash event in most major cities (and some minor villages) all over Europe and possibly even North America – I couldn’t even begin to list them, I imagine someone somewhere might send an email or 20.
Paris HHH sang the “French” National Anthem (no bikers in attendance this time)
And the hash went in peace to get themselves all tarted up for the evening do