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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1990: RUN NO.346 Run Date: 2 July 1990 Megalomania And Gritty Sausages Even the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Championships on TV could not prevent a large gathering of hashers turning up at Mothecombe for the S.H.I.T.S. barbecue run. It was no doubt thanks to the detailed instructions given in the hash mag that we all managed to find it. It was only because Minder was refusing to obey instructions that prevented Mimi from taking one of his usual cross-country short cuts and so stopped him ending up who knows where. But instead of who knows where, he ended up following F Ferret along the conventional route and was in turn closely followed by IAT who also did not know the way. Piggy cycled all the way from Plymstock and then cycled off again, not realising Deadly had returned from holiday. Not Norman, Smutty & Deerhunter turned up to pay one of their infrequent visits and were accompanied by a couple of Plympton H3 groupies. It was not clear who was with whom - maybe it was a menage a cinq! Discerning hashers will note that this mag is being produced on the new standard mag letterhead, which is obtainable from the Chief Scribe and which all scribes are encouraged, nay instructed, to use. The committee no longer want to see hash mags produced on the backs of old shopping lists or on recycled toilet paper. We must have uniformity in our hash - there is no room for individuality! Whilst we're on this subject, it has been noticed that some hashers are not wearing the regulation blue running shirts or singlets for the hash run, and the purple sweatshirts for the apres-hash. The more you wear them the sooner they can be washed and the shrunken result given to your wife, dog or Abdul. The habit of turning up in any old gear on a Monday night should be discouraged (and punished). The Grand Master has decreed that Drake hashers must be distinguishable from other idiots at large on Monday nights, so in the great tradition of History's megalomaniacs, we have had Hitler's Brownshirts, Mussolini's Blackshirts and now we've got Mimi's Purpleshirts! It is important to note, however, that one never sees Endosperm & HT2 in anything but matching ensembles. Last Monday, for instance, they were in fetching red outfits, although I noticed their shoes did not match, and probably neither did their underwear - but I cannot vouch for this as I wasn't in a position to see (El Pee got in the way). To get back to the run, it started and finished in the car park and in between there was a confused mixture of field and woods designed to take us down to the estuary by 8.00pm (low tide). Not Norman seemed to know exactly where the trail went because of the previous hashes he had done in the area, but unfortunately, he did not have the courage of his convictions. On reaching the estuary, the main pack went through the woods, whilst the mavericks such as the Ferret, Not Norman, Deerhunter & IAT elected to continue along the estuary shore (each wondering as he looked at his companions whether he had done the right thing). On this occasion, they had (wonders will never cease!), because the rest of the hash emerged from the woods some ten minutes after the frontrunners had passed by. The next obstacle to be overcome was the river crossing. Mimi decided to try a bit of water skiing, but fell flat on his face, soaking Son-of-IAT in the process. On the far side of the river there was a Long / Short split, where the geriatrics sauntered gently back in the company of Slo-Jo and George (horseless this week), in time to see the long runners return in various states of disarray. The barbecue was sparsely attended, which was just as well, as there were only two barbecue grills - Not Norman's disposable one and a more sophisticated one belonging to Wimpers. Unfortunately, the sophisticated version took a long time to get going despite having a full bottle of meths poured over it, which sadly left Wimpers with nothing to drink. He usually has some lesser ranked person to perform these tasks for him, but Slo-Jo was busy shooing the public off her beach. Cream Soda & Not Norman seeing which way the wind was blowing, proceeded to commandeer Not Norman's barbecue causing him to whinge ineffectively between swigging beer and guzzling sausages and mince pies. El Pee, had made his usual late arrival at the start and appeared to be wearing a false beard (surely it couldn't have been real), but was nowhere to be seen down on the beach. Deadly was also missing, because having injured his achilles tendon on the run he had rushed off to see Helen (sorry - Elaine). No doubt the rest of the hash were sitting in the warmth and comfort of the Dartmoor Union Inn, instead of eating gritty sausages on a chilly beach! HASH FLASHES: Rudolph is now working for a Japanese company and therefore wishes to be known as 'Rudolph-san'. Cream Soda recently made a mystery visit to London, which I believe was for the purpose of having a new pacemaker installed for the Albaston Relay. I suggest that he asks for his money back!
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