#1143 - The One with the Cows

Copper Job brought us to the George and Dragon in Holmesfield for what would prove a
‘challengeus bovinious’ occasion. We numbered 12 humans and 2 dogs at the point of
departure.

Banter was restricted to ‘head torch or no head torch’ and the interrogation of Su Yin’s
Usonian friend Tess. Tess hailed from Charlottesville, Virginia and in true traveler-style
chatter we mentioned every person we knew from the US and checked if Tess also knew
them, alas not but she handled our inquiries with patience.

Off we set across the road past the Angel and towards the woods; the trees formed a
large canopy over the path and the setting sun provided ambient mood lighting.

Somehow we worked our way out of the woods and into fields of Gooseberries and
Strawberries, we raided said crops accordingly….were these the hash treats?

Hash rest...?

During the next stage conversation turned to Brexit and Tree Felling, such subject
permeate every section of society including our apolitical running group.

Now somewhere between the housing estate and the loss of Captain Morgan we were
treated to Lollipops, Squishies and Chews. C’ptain Morgan’s gorging on said treats
followed by a bronze medal performance on some locals’ trampoline meant he slowed
somewhat from the rest of the pack and after the down hill, the trees and the bridge he
was simply no more, vanished, gone. There was some vocal contact but then it faded
away.

The pack had double timed it up the hill and were out of sight, Fast Eddie and Myself
spent a few minutes looking into each other’s eyes wondering whether we should leave
him but not daring to suggest it - we compromised on checking the pub first…with a
drink and a bag of crisps in hand.

Having caught some of the others at the check; Bam Bam / Chris / Desperado there was
some chatter about collateral damage, estimates ranged from just a few hashers to 50%
of the group. I had a missed call from Soggy Bottom which added to the concern and
desire to first check the pub (with a beer and crisps) then go back out and look for them.

Now I am sure that different hashers will have varying perspectives, stories and
memories for a lifetime as to what happened next but I’ll tell it from the point of view of
bringing up the rear: So there was me, Fast Eddie, Monty and Monty’s mate, we entered
a cow field at the bottom and saw the cows were taking an interest in the other runners.

Poser...

As Monty had proved in his earlier photoshoot, he was a swanky looking guy, in fact the
type of guy that a bunch of heifers like these might take an interest in, so he leashed
himself up and stayed close to Batman.

Initially the Bovinians seemed to be pissing themselves with laughter about something
they had done earlier and were not paying too much attention to the other runners. A
few turned to look at us average looking plodders, looked away…then did a double take,
who’s the four-legged cutie coming up the hill??

Interest in our canine friend increased, the lechers gathered and began moving in unison
towards us. What followed was probably the most hilarious set of cow repelling
gesticulations and noises the world has ever seen, but we made it out alive. You could
almost hear the cows saying ‘hold your line ladies, he won’t keep making that noise
forever’.
Upon exiting the cow field Soggy B’s missed calls turned into voice mails warning us to
avoid the cow field, especially if we have got a dog because….and wait for it….the cows
had turned nasty and mugged our Hare.

What in Hashing Hell??

Indeed, it transpired that our mild mannered Copper Job, in his pursuit of leading us
home, carefree and happy with the beautiful summer’s evening trail he had set, minding
his own business, making sure no doubt that he had closed all gates behind him, not
causing any harm to man nor beast and possibly whistling his way home, was rounded
on by the cattle….oh the humanity!

Despite not seeing any of this, I believe it went as follows:
‘We’ve got one ‘ere!’ said the lead heifer as Copper Job entered the field. They waited
until he was at the point of no return and too far from the exit then charged, from all
sides. Copper job tried to reason with them, citing previous cordial relations from past
runs, but it was no good and at considerable pace they pushed him towards the fence.
Fortunately they were not dealing with a mere mortal and Copper Job was able to leap

the fence and throw himself at a salvatory tree, which he clung to for a few seconds then
slid down to the bottom, dazed and bloodied. Warning calls were made (5G please) but
there he lay until the front runners found him, formed an army to be reckoned with and
led him out of the shadow of the valley of death.

Photographic evidence later showed that the cows had stood at the fence mocking our
hero as he lay there suffering.

The terrifying beasts!

Back at the pub the tragic tale was recounted and a somewhat forgotten Captain Morgan
appeared, still smiling, oblivious to his own abandonment and his comrade’s carnage.
Otherwise great run and great beer in the pub!

On On, Sticky Shaft

P.S. I make no apologies for making up words or presenting alternative facts in this
report.