1442 - 30th March, The one with the nice crispies

T'was the night after the clocks went forward and 16* Hashers plus canine regular 'Lost Lad' gathered at the Three Merry Lads to see what kind of route could be crafted from this familiar ground.

*At the time of writing it was not clear whether mudslide had joined us this evening. She was duly represented by her recruit and new  hasher Keith.

Nice Crispie, now a veteran Hasher and Hare, was leading us on this fresh Spring evening. The carpark yielded some surprises in the form of Madj and Shrimper - joining us for their biannual outing and futile attempt at dodging the diary, born again hasher Tree Hugger - made it three in a row and finally Copper Job made a long awaited appearance - hashers duly queued up to book in their long overdue boiler services.

Reunions complete off we trotted back towards Lodge Moor then across the road through the car park and into Ye Olde POW camp, it was nice to see it in daylight and we followed a nice if not boggy woodland path towards Redmire Conduit.The evening yielded an abundance of flour and checkers, so staying middle of the pack provided a comfortable ride.

The conduit led us passed Wyming Brook Farm (South), where a kids party seemed to be raging, then on in to the plantation. Since our last visit a settlement had sprung up around the old water works, this was not a community of van life, nettle soup and singing by the camp fire, these were serious dwellings with room on the drive for a a Merc and a Porsche.

A sharp turn led us around the bottom reservoir and up towards Fulwood booth where a well floured X marked a false trail, so back down the contours we went to skirt the reservoirs. Fantastic pictures of this part of the trail later appeared.

Head Torches Optional

Lost lad sensed something great was coming and shoulder barged his way up towards the old quarry, pushing hashers into the tick infested marshes without so much of a guilty look. At this point Madj also took a tumble but styled it out with perfection and hopefully avoided the sharp bits of the trail.

The FRBs had found the snacks and were tucking in by the time we all caught up. The snacks were nice, crispy and possibly award winning. There was plenty to go round and it took a great act of willpower to resist a fourth piece.

An interesting chat about 50 year old men's health servicing requirements  took place between a medically knowledgeable hasher and 50 year old specimen, it was concluded that with a bit of instruction a DIY prostate examination would be theoretically possible but not recommended.

Tummies full we headed towards Redmires Road where an ominous check awaited us. Surely NC would not lead us towards Stanage Pole?  We all knew that the next turn off in that direction was in another county so waited nervously until the checkers had done their work and duly confirmed it was on on down redmires road.

Our glaring torches highlighted that romance was not dead and many a startled couple glared at us from their reclined car seats as we passed by.

Hashers began checking paths out of suspicion, a new concept, signalling an overstaffing in the checking department. The level headed amongst us followed the flour down the conduit and across Ash Cabin Flat.

After a short regroup in Wyming Brook carpark we headed down a muddy bank towards the new, and in some Monday night, loosely organised running groups, divisive stepping stones. Whilst they did ensure dry feet they were fairly brutalist in design and didn't look very welcoming to the falling hasher - the jury is still out...

Thereafter it was a fairly brisk, short chase back to the pub, the HH sign (possibly visible from space) soon appeared and the pack scrambled up the bank and began pouring into the pub.

We were greeted by Nice Crispie and Captain Colon, the latter of whom had made the trip to get his name in the diary - that's commitment!

There was a roaring fire waiting for us back at the pub and our group of 18 easily filled a corner, there was a certain nostalgia about the evening's gathering, maybe the return of old friends, the familiar setting or just the end of another winter, either way it was a great route and night !!

On on,

Sticky shaft

PS are you there mudslide?

Madj & Shrimper celebrating the absence of the diary 

1431 - The one where it all went to the dogs

Ours must be the most dog-friendly hash, in the WORLD. There is no other hash that can boast a better ratio of man to 'best friend' than ours.

And so, starting a hash from the ONE and only pub in all the Peak District that doesn't allow dogs could only bode new lows for Amatuer Hour in the name of Sticky Shaft.

All started well enough, despite the chilly car park, with NO OUTDOOR HEATERS. (Note to self, must update TripAdvisor). The masses headed off down the hill, without a single on-on, only for Trunks to mention to us old die-hard traditionalists that he'd already spied the route going the other way, up the hill. We waited a while, then called on-on, with a chuckle. 

A check-back soon followed by the mandatory conversation checking if it was a check-back or a back-to-check ... The flour led us down a muddy hill, through the gorse, and into an industrial hardstanding. 

"Only this way" assured Shunter, with complete conviction and confidence, whilst listing all the reasons for carrying 3 spare batteries on what should be a quick hash... Looking back at my Strava trace, I note we dutifully followed him for a good HALF a mile, downhill, in the direction of Eyam before On-On was called, leading us BACK up the hill. Turns out there was another way...

Back to the top and down a lovely trail that was shouting out to be ridden by a mountain bike and onto our choclatey hash snacks without even a hint of celery.

And then it all happened... Coming up the hill, our hapless hare. Flat of battery and out of flour. Bedraggled in a torn coat, knowing he was never going to live this one down. He uttered some sorry story about his lack of preparation and a lack of flour about a Km away ... But we weren't listening. 

Tales of woe were wasted on the pack. A backward glance by Two Loops Toby, Smittie and Trunks, betrayed hopes for an early mutiny.

Questions of what the proper protocol was for catching the hare were muttered, but feeling sorry for the poor mite, he escaped a deserved debagging. 

And then, without so much as a "don't bother calling mountain rescue if you can no longer find me" Two Loops was off, with his faithful hound, Brodie and fellow mutineers.

Simultaneously, Shunter and Mudslide were headed in the opposite direction, seeking an imaginary stile, which existed at the end of an imaginary trail of flour. The team H&S policy was falling apart rapidly before our very eyes. I heard someone shout "come on, we've only done 4.5Km, too early for mutiny, let's do it" and realised, in an out of body experience, that it was me.

Off we went in any direction. The pull of gravity was too great for Fishbait, who bounded down down down ... "But the pub's UP the hill" wailed the weak of will. Even my idle self was doubting the wisdom of such haste.

With the words "must stick together" ringing through my mind, like a sheep I neverthelesd followed on down, with the pack behind. Amazingly, we found some flour. Sticky, now with us, looked as surprised as the rest of us. 

On-on, we went ... Until that is, Soggy Bottom noticed the lack of hound and husband. Like a pair of techno-phobic geriatrics, neither husband nor hound had a phone turned on. 

Meanwhile, front runners, with a sniff of beer, were bounding on, as much as they could, bound, up that muddy slippy hill. Fishbait helpfully mentioned that maybe microspikes could have helped in this moment ...

Eventually, we made it back to the pub. A merry band of mutineers, including one not so lost husband and hound, were found to be supping from their pints ... without so much as a glimmer of guilt, unknowing of the full search and rescue operation that had previously been launched. 

Despite the excellent service, the good range of well-kept ales and great selection of bar snacks, the pub was just too hot ... Another nail in the TripAdvisor coffin, I concluded. The muted absence of hounds was also, haunting.

And so, with plans made for G-String and her Valentine's hash in place, the night's festivities drew us to a close.

Monty’s Batman

1370. 21st October - The one where plans were finalised

Fourteen Hashers and Two hounds assembled at the Hammer and Pincers for the first time in an age.  The Soggy Bottom family put out three Hashers + a hound, G-String and Glowworm made an appearance from Hathersage, Speed Bump and yet to be handled Joseph came from Dronfield, Fishbait and Tilly from Grindleford, Smittie, Trunks and 17 Mile Jinx from the Fulwood area, Shunter of Woodseats and a well illuminated (front / back / head & spare lights) Mudslide and myself from Crookes all made the journey.

Punctuality was the name of the game, and we were soon off across the road and Porter Valley bound.  A few of us ‘rear enders’ sensed a bit of competition in the air this evening mainly due to the lack of calling. The pack comprised of three prime checkers in the form of Shunter, The Apprentice and Mudslide so this could prove to be a quick run.

We soon found ourselves crossing the Porter Brook and heading up towards Fulwood only to be caught out by a signature Uglyman long back to check, upon a second check we found it was up the river past ‘Prof’s bend’ and on to another check at Forge Dam. I had my suspicions and soon found the trail heading along the south side of Forge Dam.  I managed to suck most of the pack in only to found myself done again by a long b-2-c.

The actual route took us up Priest Hill towards Cottage Lane, the scene of many a previous race to the summit. Off Cottage Lane we headed right and up the hill which eventually lead us to the Hash Rest where some home made flap jack was awaiting us.

Don't let the poo bag appearance fool you, the snacks were delicious! 

Fuelled and sensing we had broke the back of the run we headed on towards Ringinglow road Crossing at Wigley farm. Half of the pack, lead by Smittie, seemed to think we hadn’t had a controversy for a while so headed up the farm drive presumably in the hope of seeing an annoyed farmer + dog, but it was a calm night and there was no such drama, we regrouped heading towards the Limb valley.

Despite woofed promises that they would behave, both hounds had to be escorted on short leads / carried through the field of sheep all whilst protesting their innocence.

Enroute, we discovered a strange new marking which turned out to be a decent effort by Uglyman at a pair of Spectacles, which in turn indicated a nice view, which indeed there was; a glowing moon with a glittering Sheffield lying beneath it. 

Unfortunately there is no picture of the actual view...

A nice strut through the limb valley eventually led us to Coit lane and across Castle dyke playing fields, then it was back down Ringinglow Road to the H&P.  All in all a nice run in great Autumn conditions.

On On Sticky Shaft

…and finally

It proved a productive Hash:

Shining Cliff Weekend - all sorted, with Hares, Cooks and hopefully enough flour.

The Christmas Party  - Theme sorted, artwork complete, thanks TW, start and end venues booked, a hare has been appointed (Mincer), a poll has been pinned to the thread, now just awaiting final confirmations.

The Diary - full and now taking bookings for 2025, some slots have already been taken in the makeshift 2025 section of the 2024 Diary

The Actual Diary – It’s heading towards that time when a new one needs to appear. There was talk (by Uglyman) of an electronic diary, cue sharp intakes of breath.  With an upcoming Hash in Wharncliffe Side, will Fast Eddy appear and save the day? He’s underwritten this annual admin cost for as long as I can remember, it would be some feat of heroism were he to turn up next week, mid paternity leave, with a shiny new diary…

1369. 14th October - Begging, Bananas, Bread and Bolving

Pre 7:45pm, our hare MTB had out done himself on flour stinginess and had to go cap in hand to our landlord for a loan. Many thanks by the way to the Robin Hood and its landlord!!

                                                    Struggling Pubs face increased demands from Hashers

@7.52pm was about the time that the Crookes bunch turned up and the pack were long gone. I asked the friendly landlord if he had any flour to spare, he looked at me aghast, but confirmed parking was for free.

So off we set in pursuit of the others, there were two obvious directions, but MTB had carved out a third and off we set up the hill back towards the Sheffield road, which we incidentally did not take to get here, hence the tardiness.

Mudslide, ever one for a challenge, decided to rely on her night vision to climb the hill, fortunately there was a first aid kit waiting with the pack and a couple of medical ‘professionals’ to fix the damage.  Trunks was also on hand with his spare torch, so a patched up and illuminated mudslide took her natural front runner position and saved the rest of us lazy buggers from having to check too much.

                                                                ...and the moral of the story is

As fast as the latecomers ran, the trail was all up hill so we didn’t actually catch the pack until the hash rest, where ten of them were waiting for us. Will’s Banana cake / bread was the topic of conversation with a lot of pleasantly surprised looks amongst the pack. I can confirm it was indeed yummy, filling and two pieces were consumed. Lost lad looked more than happy to receive treats from an unused poo bag.

A glorious red mushroom was purposely left on the wall by one of the pack, but we’ll come back to that later. From there it was on on across the top of Yield wood and towards the glittering lights of Baslow where we spread out in the village to look for the route.

We inevitably found ourselves at the ‘Group Kissing’ gate into Chatsworth, I few open minded hashers squished themselves in, lost lad got caught up in the excitement.  Fortunately no fingers or otherwise were lost in the transaction and we all found ourselves in the dark and eery Chatsworth House grounds.

                                

                                                                Mind yer bits and pieces!

Jurassic style noises were heard from the woods, we all knew what they were but proceeded with some caution towards the treeline.  There were the occasional sightings of a fierce and protective stag with his doe Harem. The spectacular rutting / bolving season was underway.

I must break off at this point to mention that we do have greatness within our ranks, one hasher who shall remain nameless is a regional champion at bolving (…or bolving impressions?) and is immortalised by a plaque in some village hall around the Hope Valley. When last pressed on the issue she was too modest to give us a demonstration but confirmed, ‘It was a proud moment’. Local generic farmer and bolving enthusiast ‘Billy Cornfield’ was interviewed about the victory at the time and simply remarked, ‘It was Crystal clear there could only be one winner that year, she was Tipped for greatness but just walked away from the whole scene, a sad day for the sport…’.

Anyway, back to the trail. We made our way past the horny deer and annoyed sheep and headed up the Hill, it felt like the whole run had been up hill that evening, finally atop the hill and above the tree line the trail plateaued.

From there it was back in the direction of the pub, MTB surprised most of us with a new trail avoiding the long slog back up the road to the pub.  This new trail proved tight in places and eventually made its way down to the stream.  We were confronted with warning signs to avoid the damaged bridge, no handrails apparently, but as most of us were born before the era of intense ‘elf and safety’ we crossed anyway, there were no casualties. From there it was a sprint finish to the pub.

A great run, discovering some new paths, at 9.5KM it was at risk of been muttered about but with everyone back at a reasonable hour it was time to enjoy a beer and some post Hash Chat.

Special shout out to Milkmaid and Cummingtonite for filling up the diary on their debut press ganging.

Special mention to one of our hashers for arranging a post hash date in the pub and presenting not a bouquet of flowers but a shiny red mushroom to his companion. Apologies from my side for trying to get her to put her name in the diary.

Epilogue

A very satisfied looking Monty’s Batman was later seen returning three quarters of the loaned flour to the landlord, thus cementing his reputation as a spectacular conservationist.

1367. 30th Sep - A Tale of Two Hashes

T’was a rainy night when a party of five set off from Crookes to see what our intrepid hares had in store for us. Sure as the sun rises Gloworm and G-String (complete with new lighting, sleek black Petzl, choice of champions) were eagerly awaiting the rest of the pack outside the Rising Sun.

It was rumoured that an advance party had already set off, but due to no kicked out checks this was surely a forlorn hope. Off we set around the back of the shops, currently unhandled Toby led the way and did some fancy spotting of ‘rain distressed’ flour.

                                                     Nothing could rile tonight's trail

The pack made its way cautiously alongside Hangingwater Allotments and Whitely woods, there was a high risk of trail loss, fortunately we had honed our skills on MTB’s previous hashes. We proceeded gingerly up through Bluebell woods discovering new path after new path, even lost lad stayed close by on this dark damp evening.

We eventually hit suburbia briefly and on to Bents Road, a weirdly wide road where cars refuse to pass each other but rather give way. There was a brief attempt by two cars to pass, à la normal motoring, but this ended in honks and screeches. At Haugh Lane it was a case of hashers' anticipation and hares' dilemma, Eccy woods or on towards Whirlow?

Whirlow it was and on we ambled, wondering; where were the lost hashers, would there be snacks, would it ever stop raining?  (Mincer had previously answered this in a fairly average attempt at whit on the Hash thread, 07:30 on Tuesday was the answer).

We made our way between Birkdale and Silverdale Schools finally coming out again on Ringinglow road.  Slightly up hill and to the left Toby appeared to be moon walking,  kicking out a check, or possibly rubbing poop off his shoes, with little else to go on we all followed him down Common lane and back towards the Porter Valley.

The scent of home was within us now and the pace picked up, such was Captain Morgan’s thirst that he took a short cut and likely got lost.  At Forge Dam playground we cut right and back down the valley, fond memories surfaced of Prof’s tale of riding headfirst into the river here, no serious damage done though!! 

At this point Captain Morgan proved that all shortcuts were the work of sinners and reappeared having gained no advantage whatsoever.  A drenched cyclist also appeared to tell us that a Tsunami had hit Bingham Park and that we should avoid it, he then carried on towards the source of the floods on his gravel bike.

The tail runners made the final ascent back toward Fulwood Road then it was on on down towards the pub. The rest of the pack, the Hares and the snacks awaited us. There had been a few potential sightings of other hashers but as they were not yet back, we feared the worst….in that they had not come out, not that they had disappeared in the Bingham Park Tsunami…for clarity.

It hardly seemed worth bringing out the diary and the night would have reached its natural conclusion except for, one by one, they started to appear, firstly Trunks, then Fishbait, Barnaby, Smittie and finally, on an after-party only ticket, was 15 mile Jinx. The diary duly appeared and a few holes in the calendar were plugged. The alternative hashers didn’t elaborate too much on where they had been or comment on their poor pace but perhaps their digital signatures may offer a clue:

                       

                             A Team Route                                                       B Team Route -  Don't Dilly Dally on the way

All in all a good night, those who braved the floods were grateful they did, thanks to the hares who also braved the floods and the criticism to set us an interesting trail. For their endeavours they have been offered places on the Hash Management Training Scheme and are the current custodians of the diary.  They are keen so you may get tap on the shoulder requesting that you set.                                                   

Reunited finally!!

On on,

Sticky Shaft

Afterthought….in true diva style, presumably to avoid the paparazzi and unwanted attention of Tilly, Lost Lad was carried out under a towel, possibly a John Lewis number, and escorted to his waiting limo where he became the first dog to sit in the boot. Tilly meanwhile sat quietly in disbelief that she had had to run with the B Team…

1364. 9th Sep - And the prize for best attendance goes to…

…G-String and Glo worm, they’ve been with us for almost a year now and I can’t remember a hash where at least one of them didn’t show up.  If records and eyesight can be believed then this was the fourth Hash they have set and so it was over to them to lead us around Hathersage on this Autumn-y evening.

Runners were plenty, parking spaces not so much, after we had filled the pub car park the streets copped for it. The search for parking spaces meant that a headcount couldn’t take place until we got to the snacks, 4 or 5km in, I think it’s ok to do a headcount at that stage.  Anyway by some reckoning there were 21 hashers and 3 dogs.

I was trying to sleep!!

Special mention to Lunar who thought she was rid of her troubles when Monty retired, only to find that he had passed the torch or lipstick to Brody (aka lost lad). Alas any thoughts about outliving / out-hashing Lost Lad may prove futile as the yet to be handled ‘Tilly’ seems to be triple mad for it.

Anyway, back to the run, in the most refreshing of changes, G&G, or J&J in real life, led us left out of the pub, avoiding the usual hill and 30 seconds of speculation at Little John’s grave. I did speculate the cost of the wall repairs to the unfortunate local who fell foul of the floods, then it was over the road and calling on on in the middle of an otherwise quiet and bewildered neighbourhood.

The purists met the cheaters aka Raw Hide, Lunar and the Apprentice (congrats on excellent GCSE results by the way) on the Sheffield road. From there we were checked across the road and on on up towards Scraperlow plantation. The hill separated the wheat from the chaff and allowed the apprentice (perhaps The Graduate now) to perform a long check all the way back to Ringinglow road. The older but probably not wiser waited for the checkers to do their work then headed left.

Retired checker ‘Shunter’ chuntered for a few minutes atop the hill about having set the same burns night hash three times with Hashers failing to complete it an equal number of times. I am already looking forward to next year’s burns night / best mutiny competition hash. (At least one shot of Shunter’s whisky must be consumed for the mutiny to count.)

A stunning quagmire awaited us by the farm, many a muddy set of ankles were created, hopefully they’ve not had new carpets fitted in the pack. Further along the route , the Apprentice was proved morally correct in that we did finally cross Ringinglow Road, headlights (mainly petzl G-String) at this stage seemed to be multiplying.

We were eventually led to Higger tor, if my analysis and matching of the contour lines on Strava with those on the dodgy OS app (wink) was correct.  Snacks of the baked variety and bags of sweets awaited us.  The dogs and their respective owners kept their distances whilst the hashers grazed.

                                              Split into two groups and fight each other!!                         

Energy levels restored, headcount complete and without any serious dog-on-dog violence we headed back towards the bright lights of Hathersage.

Upon arrival at the Scotsman pack we stepped into a parallel universe with people almost looking like us occupying the area occupied by us and in fact talking with each other amongst us, at first we worried that they had been missed in our rigorous head counting procedure but then realised it was our parallel-selves aka the Fat Boys.

With the pub now full with runners chat ensued about the location of the diary, next week’s run (Build it and they will come was the advice), the away weekend, MTB fear of heights coaching and of course thanks to our hares for a great route and snacks!!

On on,

Sticky Shaft

 

Afterthought – Pearls of Wisdom, in lieu of actual attendance, from ye olde Captain to ye olde or ye tired-ey hashers.

1. Always check the calendar before setting out: hashes are on Mondays, remember.

2. Always check the blog too: turning up at next week's pub won't bring you any advantage.

3. Don't forget your head torch: carrying it in your pocket will remind you to charge it before next week.

4. Don't warm up: you've only got such much energy, dammit.

5. Start at a brisk walking pace: you can always slow down later.

6. Each time you see some flour shout "on on": it creates the impression you're still involved in the trail, albeit distantly.

7. If your head torch is working turn it off each time you stop for a wee: you're on a hash, not starring in the Full Monty stage show.

8. Try to get to the hash rest before all the jelly babies are finished: better still carry a packet with you just in case.

9. Up hill sections are YOUR time: others will be walking too.

10. When you get back to the pub, check it's still open before getting changed: you can always drive home in wet clothes.

And a final thought: despite all the above just be grateful you can still get out on a Monday night; you know you'd miss it if you didn't.  ☘️☠️

1358. 22nd July - To chalk or not to chalk!

Twelve hounds and two real ‘uns made the journey down south for this highly anticipated husband and wife hash setting.   Mudslide brought along son and special guest Reuben, will he come again? Can we get his name in the diary? What Hash Handle can we give him??

The start point was Birchover but we also took in the as-of-yet undiscovered (by your scribe) village of Winster, well 25% (three) of us did. If nothing else this Hash proved that nettles are much more aggressive outside of the Hope Valley.

In a sign of the times and under a clear and present danger of the pub been shut before we finished Smittie started proceedings at 19:45 precisely. Those of us who arrived late knew the massive advantage this would give the FRBs and sure enough it took us a whole three minutes to find the rest of the pack wandering aimlessly at the second check.

The first section took us on a leafy lane out of the village, some dubious markings puzzled the late comers but with the confused front runners just ahead this ‘check back’, which had seemingly been reincarnated to a ‘back-to-check’, posed no real problem. Better more flour than a light dusting says I, in a passive aggressive dig at another Hasher who shall remain nameless.

We were then on a pleasant trot up through the woods, early signs of aggressive nettles and brambles were not really taken as a sign of things to come.  A very joyous Fish-bait even stopped to munch a few blackberries.

We eventually arrived at the Cork Stone, as usual there was a procession of Hashers wanting to know if they could still scale it. Accompanying photos of these ascents will surely avoid any Mallory-esque suggestion of doubt being gossiped around the care homes of Sheffield in the coming decades.

Pre this Hash there had been suggestions by the hares of an extra 2K loop for those who were willing, after last week’s excess of checking which caused an extra 3K of running such a suggestion was met with some scepticism. ‘’We could provide a map’ suggested Samson le Toi, cue much guffaw (to mask the fear of having to actually navigate) so after ridicule, thanks but no thanks, not on this Hash, no siree, we mistakenly did the extra 2K loop anyway which lead us nicely to the Nine Ladies Stone circle.

Always a nice place to visit, there were a few free spirits camping out there, we stayed a while then continued on our merry way heading back towards Lees Road and all taking part in Mudlside’s ‘Hash – The Movie’. We eventually reached the Barn Farm camping area, no peacocks this week, and headed across the fields to Clough lane where we were greeted by a check.

The route turned out to be on on down and this is where things took a turn. Myself, Mudlside and 14 miler Jinx got ahead and found the little path to the right, this eventually lead to a fork. Whilst supervising the check I listened out for the others but there was only silence, soon to be broken by a returning Mudlside, we gave the situation a moment’s thought then went on on after Jinx.

It transpired in the pub that the group had been delaying by a tumbling Soggy Bottom who, as well as achieving a perfect 10 for floor exercises also managed to avoid putting a scratch on her OMM jacket, she did unfortunately injure herself in several places and ended up with a leg held together by someone’s head band…we wish soggy a speedy recovery!

Back with the front runners, it went; nettles, Brambles, more nettles, wrong trail, right trail, mud, flies and on on into Winster.  The three of us managed a good look at the high street and it’s shop without noticing the Hash Rest, after a bit of searching we found the path out of the village and followed nettles / mud and bramble in to the valley.

Mudslide and I then went left and right to determine the final ascent.  Jinx was left to kick out the trail. He attracted the interest of the local bull who proceed to amble after him up the hill. As is the norm with the Hash in these events Mudslide and I laughed from a safe distance, not really considering the potential for a trampling.

Thereafter we soon came back to the starting point, other hashers began to appear. Our greatest fears were not realised and the pub was still open.  Thanks to SLT and Suction cup for a great hash!!

On On, Sticky Shaft

P.S. *What distance should my Hash be?

6km (3.72823 miles) – Each hasher inwardly glad.

8km (4.97097 miles) – Nods of self-satisfaction, i.e. ‘I’ve earnt my beer’).

10km (6.21371 miles) – General consensus that we got back to the pub in the nick of time.

12k (7.45645 miles) – Chuffin’ ell, that hare’s took a liberty tonight!

12km+ - inclusive, above and beyond will result in continued digs for weeks to come and at worst a 10-year banishing from the hash.

 *These are setting distances and do not take into consideration some of the atrocious checking that occurs.

 

1355. 1st July - Monty's Batman; The Star Inn, Tideswell

                                                   &

1356. 8th July - Mudslide; Rose & Crown "Minnies", Stannington

“I love that glow and now I know, Summer’s in bloom”, sang Gary Stringer all those summers ago, he also sang , ‘I got a stinging nettle rash for it, but I'm so very happy that I did’, ...and so it was that the Hash summer season had kicked off. 

The last twelve months have been boom times for the Sheffield Hash, a flurry of new recruits, leading to new stories, new naming opportunities and indeed a none stop supply of newly press ganged hares. 

First up in July was the not-so-new Monty’s Batman with an exotic offering in Tideswell. Just as Bradwell’s one way system makes it the London of the Peak district, Tideswell’s Carnival clear up surely renders it the Rio de Janeiro of the peak district…or maybe Glastonbury of the Peaks would have made more sense??

Shunter did his bit for the community by helping locals move a large piece of carnival decoration into a white van, either that or a sophisticated gang of art thieves recruiting an unwitting accomplice. There’s been no appeal for witnesses on facebook nor denials from other running groups yet, so one can only assume the former.

The Star inn was our venue, local Hash star Biggles was seen wandering the streets but only joining us for the boozy segment of the Hash.  No one appreciates too much creativity on a hash but MTB had not got the memo and tried to combine flour frugality with a tour of the village, through the church, up the steps down the passage, onto high street, say no more.

Finally he took us out into the hills where we belonged.  Newly handled Speed Bump brought us a new recruit, who incidentally did turn up the week after, so we may have got ourselves another lifer, watch this space!! He was slightly concerned by some of the hash handles but we made vague promises that the new generation of handles were much more family friendly.  Samson le toi and Suction Cup also brought a recruit, so more handles to think up!!

True to form, MTBs hash had saved the bulk of the flour for the snacks, baked no doubt by other members of the MTB tribe and very much appreciated by the Hashers.

There followed some undulating hills and doubts as to whether we were heading back towards the village, local hasher Moist Cleft assured us we were on the right track so eventually by hook or by crook we arrived back at the venue.

In what must be a first we were offered a separate room, a ‘Hash Hole’ so to speak, our swelling numbers soon filled the room and extra seats were required.  The diary was subsequently passed round with a least a couple of signatures collected, all in all a nice trip down south!!.

On, On to the next run….

 

The second summer offering came from newly recruited, named and signed up as a hare, ‘Mudslide’.  Never has one hasher given so much material, in so little time, for the joy of so many.  Mudslide may prove to be a temporary name until the next legend takes over, (Incidentally mother-hash mismanagement retains the sole rights to a name change).

There was a certain anticipation as to how this Hash may go, a bit like a 1980s quiet Friday night out with Ozzy Osborne and Keith Richards was the feeling in the camp. A series of pre, during and post hash whatsapp messages did confirm that it would indeed be a wild night out with the afore mentioned hell raisers + an Oliver Reed chaser.  but we were game and duly took it on.

Backwards, in fact, for why stick with convention? The flour / contents of Mudlside’s baking cupboard took us firstly to the hash home then it was a fairly conventional trot in the wrong direction along the north side of Rivelin valley.

Faced with a choice of left, right, private property or the actual trail we splintered and followed all but the latter.  Your scribe unfortunately chose the group with the most opinions and indeed 13 miler Jinx, so we went one way then the other. We then imagined what we thought the hare might have meant and marched along the surprisingly high Rivelin Crags / Edge / Rocks / cliffs...

Faced with slightly up or down then a lot of up, we went for slightly up which proved to be the hedge hopping trail.  With the actual path o’er yonder and within view, we talked MTB into going that way whilst the rest of us just continued hedgehopping.

We finally regrouped onto the conventional Hash Home path and headed towards the pub. We were greeted by a very smug looking group of silver hashers, who had done slightly more mileage than the rest of us, alas they did not find the snacks either and the hare was still missing. There were tales of free range chicken fiddling going on in that splinter group, but there was not a great appetite to probe for further details.

Debate raged as to what the actual route should have been whilst simultaneously receiving whatsapp updates from the hare.  There was a rumour floating round that said hare had gone home to feed her dog, but then, from out of nowhere, just as she had burst onto the hash she burst into the pub to complete the debrief.

It all became very clear...

Mudslide then proceeded, in perfect recall, mile for mile, potential flour dot to potential flour dot, to tell us where we should have gone, we had all done bits but no one had completed the whole puzzle. Mudslide is not the first to have not had her treats found, so to speak, and will surely not be the last, so thanks for stepping up, emptying your baking cupboard and entertaining us on this summer series!!

On on, Sticky Shaft

Epilogue

We knew the hash would never be the same again. A few people laughed, a few people sighed, most awaited an explosion of joy from our hare. I remembered having tried to persuade our new hare to do her duty and put her name in the diary. Keen as mustard and as bright as the blazing sun she signed up solo not knowing that she had unwittingly become Time, the Destroyer of Worlds...or at least post hash drinking minutes.’

(apologies to Robert Oppenheimer and the Bhagavad Gita)

Hash Setting Tips: 
-Tek a lot of flour, drop it every 50m / 55 yards.
-Dunt do false trails if unsure.
-Check-backs and back-to-checks are not for the novice and very often not for the experienced hare either. 
-We are not insured against the risk of a figure of eight trail going wrong.
-There are countless tails of the ‘hide behind the wall as they pass’ manoeuvre going wrong
-Optional: Leave snacks close to a road for easy retrieval should they not found and devoured on the first pass.

1331. 11th December 2023 - The Christmas Hash

 

The one with all the name calling.

The time had come around again, the annual festive fancy dress hash was upon us, this year’s organisation was provided by Soggy Bottom (complex details / technical direction / adding up) and Sticky Shaft (Showboating).  The hare was a bit more organised this year, even if he does say so himself, and managed to set a reasonable length trail and be back at the Tap in time for guests arriving. He was soon joined by Shunter who was handing out shot sized bottles of Henderson’s relish, apparently to make up for the lack of investment in his costume.

                                                        The Tap -  𝄞Where it began...

Next on the scene was MBM who was creatively dressed as the Hunch Back of Notre Dame, thereafter came Little Smittie as a Hibs fan, then came many more, there were Hippies, Honey Bees, Harry Potter Fans, Handy men and women, Hardmoors finishers, Hawks, Holly Bushes, Holy Crappers, Hannahs, Hannah’s, Harry Hills and Harry Hill’s, Characters from ancient civilisations, more Henderson’s relish, Hs, Hoorah Henrys, Captain Birdseyes ???, and of course…a Horse, basically anything beginning with H, numbering twenty five of us in total (twenty eight on a morning after recount). 

There was a certain eagerness to the evening, Prof and MBM were desperate to sample the other pubs and were first out of the traps, Mincer was keen to keep good time and encouraged the hare to say something…anything, so at 7:36pm we were on.

                                                                            HBOND

                                                            Oh neigh, not him again!

A dangerous brush by the Rutland Arms probably led some to an unsanctioned hash stop, but for rest of the rule abiding hashers the first stop was the Lord Nelson, albeit by different routes. This was a first visit for many of us. The locals, enthralled by the night’s football seemed to roll their eyes as we piled in, but there were separate rooms for separate belief systems and we soon found ourselves some space. A shout out to the bar staff who took great care of us!!!

                                                            The Lord Nelson - Snug View

                                                    The Lord Nelson - Tap Room View

Next stop was the Club House on London Road, a pre visit by the hare had established that the was one member of staff which could have seriously jeopardised our schedule, Mincer shuddered, however upon arrival the waitress had managed to press gang another member of staff in to work and calm was restored.  By this time we had picked up the straddlers, namely Pingu, Fishbait and Spiv. Given our number and the space this pub was an ideal photo opportunity and Soggy Bottom managed to rope in a local, who was thus far minding his own business, to immortalise our evening.  The Club House was one to remember, not only for the startled locals but also the reasonably priced drinks.

                                        HHHCBHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Three pubs in, roughly on schedule we exited and headed up cemetery road for the traily bit of the evening. Shrimper, aka Hendo’s 2, needed an alternative route due to recent foot surgery which will prevent him setting until at least April (noted in the diary). He was offered a short cut through Waitrose but opted to join us for the cemetery bit.  By the time the hare / sweeper upper arrived the main party were gathered around a burial plot.  Now we’ve been complained about before for flouring in anti flour neighbourhoods, but desecrating a grave could take things to a whole new level, the council may have to fill in a form this time. Fortunately the group were just being given a history lesson by Spiv, the internee was a veteran of the Waterloo battle no less.

Knowledge top up complete we headed through the graveyard to the next pub; The Ecclesall Ale Club, the ship took some steering at this point as a right turn would have led us to the restaurant but the pub required some left leaning (insert political pun at one’s own risk).  The doubters were persuaded by that  old famous adage , ‘Just one more drink’ and so it was that the pub crawl leg of the evening drew to a close. Well oiled (some of us) and hungry we turned right (politics, anyone?) to the  Prithiraj Curry house, a favourite of Dan Walker and the Hashers.

                                                    25 Tikka Masalas and 50 Pints please!!

Once seated, refreshed and food orders completed we entered into a period which shall forever be known as ‘The Lull’.  The Lull proved a perfect opportunity to catch up on admin and right some wrongs. Thanks were given, a ‘State of Hash’ address was performed then it was on to individual humiliations:

First up was Janna who had been partially named Spandex, she will henceforth and forever more be named Spandex Ballet

Second on the list was Miss Rigby, previously named H2O, which lacked a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’ who copped for H2-Ooooh!.

We then moved on to Little Smittie, who inspired a creative coup with his post-Hash footwear and will from now on forever be known as Hotel Shoes.

Proving our flexibility as an organisation we then performed a couples’ naming, Hannah of Antarctic became Biggles,  Chris of H. of A. became 'Moist Cleft' which allowed him automatic membership to the club of self-pitying horribly named Hashers.

Finally in what proved to be a wonderful own goal and great Hash exploitation, Jodie of Yorkshire, keen geologist, now possibly not so keen hasher was named Cumming-Tonite. I feel that a lot of us learnt something new from this naming, but that the namee only gave away.

                                                                    He's got the mineral!

And so it was all over bar the complex adding up of the bill, over to Soggy Bottom.  Another great Christmas Hash, a fantastic turnout and wonderful creativity of costumes…at least by some.

Merry Christmas and the rest…

On On,

Sticky Shaft