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RUN            249
Date            June 10, 2007
Location    Enfield, St. Mary
Hares         Tiny Bagpipe and Singing Bagpipe
Trash by    Rice 'n Peas, Rasta Shakespeare

New runners:

Martin Hardy, Emily Hardy, Doug Warzecha, Heather Blanco, David Carlton, Jackie Niellsen, Bola Ajobo, Christina Campbell

Down Downs:

The Hash Master for flattening a banana tree on his run downhill,

The hares for their directions: "Look for the T in Enfield". There is no "T in it. Here's to the illiterates!

The new runners, the Constable, Pothole and others for measuring the time with the height of the sun. But since it was raining cats and dogs. they arrived late.

Maiden Plum for carrying a tent size umbrella during the run.

Count Dracula for gross attention seeking, pictured in a magazine!

Once again Jail Bait was declared the idiot of the day. After being told what the cost for Hash and food were, she handed over the money, saying: "That makes 900!" The Hash Master prayed: "God protect our children for she is a teacher."

Jail Bait was also awarded with the Hash Hog for abusive language (screaming BOMBO..... when she faced the river.

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RUN            248
Date            May 27, 2007
Location    Middleton, St. Thomas (Stony Gut)
Hares          Wheeler Dealer, Tarzan and local Ken Oliver
Trash by    St. Patty's Revenge

Well the heavens opened and God poured and poured and poured out His blessings on Hash Run 248 and Blessed were the hashers “through and through.” It was heavenly.

Though some turned back, a good number of us proceeded to Middlesex Bar where we were instructed to meet for the start of the hash. I’m assuming the rain obliterated the signs giving clear directions to said bar. Unfortunately for those of us who were prepared to go the whole hog, we had to settle for half the hog or end up slip sliding away to God knows where.  In true Wheeler Dealer and Tarzan style, we were given a trail which, if walked, produced breathtaking scenery and a taste of rural St. Thomas. For those who preferred to run, the terrain was flat most of the way with intermittent inclines. What about the rain you ask?  It was a welcome change from heat and perspiration; after all, you do get wet one way or other. 

Meanwhile back at the Bar, Hash Master Rasta Shakespeare was busy honing his skill. Not to be out-done was, you know it, The Constable preparing for the Down Down.  In the absence of Cotton Head, Split Endz was called front and centre a total of four times for making remarks such as “try to keep dry” while rain was falling like the dickens and wearing mules instead of sneakers, new ones at that. The hares were toasted for giving us a hash any at all, considering the weather, but chastised for omitting to use water wings to secure shreddy. This hasher concurs with that decision as I had to resort to asking a local if she had seen others walking the trail.  Then there was the “dry posse” consisting of, yes, Split Endz, Burp, Dr. Livingston, Bulby and son Stephen, Count Dracula and Toothpick, King Size, Pumpkin, Coco-Nuts, to name a few, penalized for refusing to participate in the hash for, of all reasons, not wishing to get wet.  Rice and Peas welcomed our two new hashers, Ed from Flow and Ken from Middleton in traditional “come” and “go” style.

We would be remiss if we did not comment on the warm welcome Auntie Little gave us with her friend Miss Cherry and her crew at Middlesex Bar and the ‘finger lickin’ meal provided by same. Dominoes anyone? Music perhaps?  Something for everyone from Dancehall to Latin, Rock ‘n’ Roll to Blues so the hashers danced and a good time was had by all. 

Here’s to the Hares! Well Done!  On On.

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RUN            247
Date            May 13, 2007
Location    Colbeck Castle, Bannister, St. Catherine
Hares          Rasta Shakespeare, Coco-Nuts, Notorious Viking, Sleeping Beauty, Marc & Co
Trash by    St. Patty's Revenge

The Met Office promised rain but the gods decided otherwise and the sky was a picture of blue and white with splashes of yellow from a determined sun.  We were ready for anything, or so we thought. 

From the get go we knew we were in trouble; two minutes into the hash, we could not find a trail not because we fool, we just could not believe we were expected to go under a barbed wire fence and tip toe around cow droppings. This was not a hash for the feint of brain as false trails were in abundance (yours truly...St. Patty that is.... went on every one!).  One such trail took us to the Castle which stands forlorn in the middle of overgrown weeds; a little sad really that what was once such a magnificent building, should be reduced to a shell and one might have felt the pangs of change had it not been for the ice cold beers awaiting us inside the walls which obliterated all thought except the pure enjoyment of quenching our parched throats.

Although there was shreddy a plenty, somehow we were unable to find our way to the trail that would lead us to the finish or in this case the beginning of the end. This could be attributed to the fact that Rasta Shakespeare seized every opportunity to stand in the circles with a bland expression on his face, leading us to believe each time we took the wrong trail, we were in fact doing something right.  Finally, Cotton Head, using common sense (it was the only choice of trail left) led us to the finale. Awaiting us with smirks on their faces were Hash Master and The Vicar.

We have four new hashers, two Jamaicans and two Frenchies.  Due to the absence of the Mismanagement Committee, which was off to parts unknown (literally), The Vicar filled in for Rice ‘n’ Peas and did a fabulous job of welcoming our new hashers. Rasta Shakespeare filled in for Cool Runnings as The Constable for the Down Down, it was a double whammy.  Once again Cotton Head was in the limelight as his mode of dress came into question.  Picture this, a yellow Jah3 muscle shirt with white and grey Bermuda shorts (x2 his size); however, I think it bears mentioning that his socks did match his shorts.  I, on the other hand was called up or rather down for threatening to “Kill Bill” with whips or kisses; stay tuned.  Hash Master toasted all “Mothers” including Mother Chucker who refused to be left out of the proceedings, but lambasted us for our irresponsibility in, NO! not in having unsafe sex, but allowing our bank accounts to be depleted by the ones we spawned.

This was a typical countryside Hash and I give it high ratings.  It may have been lacking in hills and gullies and opportunities to do acrobatics but it was a runners’ course, flat and secure and for good measure the air permeated with the scent of dead carcasses, On On.

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RUN NO.:  244
DATE:         Sunday, April 1, 2007 (All Fool’s Day)
HARES:      Peesingh, Rice & Peas, Maniac & BMW, St. Patty's Revenge
PLACE:       Sligoville Great House, Sligoville
HASH TRASH BY:  St. Paddy’s Revenge

Taking into consideration the hash took place on All Fool’s Day; the organization of run 244 ran like clockwork from directions to the venue to the final event of the day, the meal.  Definitely no fools hare.

Senior Hare, Peesingh, was an attentive mother hen or rather, fussy cock, as he made sure no major mistakes were made by the Hashers as we went from road to bush, false trails to steep inclines and finally our destination.  He solicitously organized a long trail which allowed a breathtaking view of rural St. Catherine and then mercilessly organized an alternatively longer one which the die hards, who never say die, undertook to overcome.

A few of those who took the longer trail, namely Heather, Rosie’ Maniac and Herbal Death, depleted the environs of as many orchids and other plant life as their hands could hold while huffing and puffing up the steep, winding road praying for a glimpse of the Sligoville Stadium which would herald the end of the two-hour hash and give merit to their well deserved punishment.  Nothing monotonous about this Hash, it had everything.

As soon as we all congregated at the great house, in great spirits I might add (mood wise and beer wise); we were regaled with a twenty minute discourse on the history of Sligoville by Mr. Gates, the local ‘historian.’ The down down ceremony followed immediately which found Peesingh and his cohorts, the Bairds, remiss in completing the outside structure for the day’s events.  Hash Master was at his best dripping sarcasm from every orifice to the enjoyment of the hashers.  We were treated to a fashion show where Psycho, The Vicar and Scrap Iron showed their versatility in dress; this hasher thinks the Vicar stole the show.   However, the icing on the cake was Cotton Head who because he erred, had to wear the infamous dress which Psycho attempted to make a perfect fit on him and got sloshed for her troubles.  To compound matters, Cotton Head also had to wear the pig mask because he uttered, with good reason I might add, “local fabric” while on the hash but the upside was he wore both appendages with great aplomb.

I must end by giving my compliments to Peesingh and fellow Hares for organizing a great hash in a fabulous location.  Sligoville which is known for fog and rain, didn’t rain this day but allowed us to inhale clean fresh air, feel cool on our long walk and afforded us breathtaking scenery while we enjoyed our scrumptious meal on on.

Greetings from the H4 – Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan Hash House Harriers.
I am glad to see that JH3 hasn’t changed since I was there – typical pose after too many Red Stripe !!!
Judging by the perky bum and collapsed state it must be “ Split Ends “ – if not just send me the T Shirt anyway !!!!
Say hello to all our old friends.
Slapper
On On