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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1988: RUN NO.233 Run Date: 9 May 1988 Just Swanning Around Devonport Probably the highlight of the run was arriving back at the Swan, and finding that wheels, VW badges, aerials, and other detachable parts, had not been removed from hashers' vehicles. Even the windscreens were intact, and not a single bonnet had "I love Johnny" scratched onto it. What a revelation! Despite appearances, perhaps this area of Plymouth isn't so bad after all. It is difficult to know what to write about the run. By laying the trail in chalk, the hare had ascribed greater powers of observation to the hash-pack than were evident on Monday evening, and so many delicate and witty parts were missed out. However, we must be thankful that enough chalk was spotted to keep the majority of runners together. The route climbed from sea-level up and down, and round and round, to Stoke and the highest spot in Plymouth, which affords not only views of the surrounding moors, but also of more terraced housing than an entire series of Coronation Street. From there, it was steeply downhill and uphill, through alleys etc.... Around this point we met up with Breakaway Group Number One - Endosperm, Deerhunter et al, who had missed a huge arrow somewhere at the bottom of Devonport Park. They had been around Stonehouse and other way-off-target areas and, curiously, had got the idea that the hash was making its way to the Barbican, before they eventually succeeded in finding the end of the trail and following it backwards. Not long after this, splinter Group Number Two did his own thing, but as it's now the third week in a row this has happened, it was not entirely unexpected. What IS Farting Ferret up to????? A breakaway Hash for singles???, or a secret assignation??? Hashing provides the perfect cover - "See you next week, same time, same sweat...". Chaps, we must monitor his steps carefully from now on, it all seems rather sinister to me! His claims that he 'thought' the hash was making its way up to Central Park are slightly far-fetched, as it was in totally the opposite direction to the On-Down. Oh well, on to the On Down, where we were entertained by Kamikaze kids hurtling down the steep streets on skateboards, using their toughened hands as brakes on the cobblestones! Rather them than me, as this is an area of Plymouth where foul dogs roam wild, totally ignoring Mrs Thatcher's anti-litter campaign. As the sun began to set, and it became dangerous to remain in the none-too-well-lit streets, we made for the security of the Swan where a wealth of real-ale and gossip was to be had. Actually, not so much of the gossip, more of the pleas for help: Firstly, there was Jon 'The Action-Man' wanting a volunteer to type his C.V., but nobody seemed keen. Knowing the details of his background and how he evolved into what he is today, it would be, well, one helluva psychological battering to commit oneself to. It would probably involve several pints of Tippex too - and that just to spell John jon Jon correctly!! Then there was Woodenlegs appealing for volunteers to lay runs while she takes three months annual leave in Canada. As she takes the Hare-Mistress role seriously (!) she is desperate to fill up those dates when she'll be absent. NO HARE = NO RUN so come on folks!! Next, it was Nursey's turn - her need was more basic though......! She just wants MONEY!!! All for a worthy cause, though I forget precisely which one it is. Well they're all worthy aren't they? The idea is to sponsor her a certain amount for every pound she loses by September. Ha! That's bloody easy!! She could start by taking us all out to dinner "Chips all round please....". That should get rid of a few quid.... What? ..... Oh!... lbs!! Oh well, definitely no chips, or any dinner at all for that matter. She was overheard asking if tonic water was on tap at the Swan! "Just connecting up a new barrel madam...". So folks, offer her your calorie-free donations and she'll reveal to you her starting weight! One of Nursey's first donations came from the resident pub entertainer - he proffered ten pence, but I would gladly have given him double that NOT to sing, as he whined almost as much as Jimmy the dog after a Farting Armpit ticking-off session. Luckily, he didn't begin "singing" until almost closing time - perhaps this is the Swan's equivalent of shouting "Last Orders Please" and dimming the lights. One of the final pleas came from organisers of the barbecue on May 30th, at Clearbrook. It must be stressed that WHATEVER THE WEATHER (ie. even if, as is normal on a Bank Holiday, it is pouring), there will be barbecues lit and awaiting your juicy steaks, sausages, suckling pigs, marshmallows etc. when you return from the run, and you'll be able to eat your favourite burnt food without discomfort (unless you eat too much), or any need for umbrella and wellies. So for gawd's sake start saving now for a bit o' rump!! Well, that's about it chaps. There are many dedicated hashers who haven't got a mention this week, and the normal well-deserved scathing remarks are absent, but then HE wasn't running this time. Blissfully peaceful it was too.....
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