YH3 Run 1411, Thatched House, Stanley, 5th July 2009
Hare - Orifice
Scribe – Jake the Peg
Three months or so since my last write-up and it's Groundhog Day - same pub, same advertised hares (except this time Rambo was AWOL rather than Orifice) and same RA (but
more of that later).
There was one major difference, nonetheless; it was a warm summer's day rather than a chilly March evening and a decent turnout was expected. Surely we'd exceed the measly
total of nine miscreants who turned out in March?
Wrong, as per usual - the Polecats had p*ssed off to Prague and the Ferrets had f*cked off to goodness knows where, so in the event only SIX came to STANLEY.
Despite this, all YH3 demographics were represented: OAPs - Wheels (63) and R'Sole (79), teenage parents on benefits - Smuttars (17) and Candyfloss (14),
electronically-tagged bail hostellers - Orifice (23) and scruffy Home Counties asylum seekers - Jake (47).
You could tell it was a financially-challenged group. The ratio of bicycles to cars was three to two and at least one of the cars was running on recycled chip fat. We knew
we were in for a sparsely-laid trail.
After a few minutes' dithering over whether we should wait for anyone else, we shuffled off and were soon skirting the banks of the Calder. A farm or two and a track or two
led us to Stanley Ferry and a choice of two boozers. As it wasn't yet 12:00, only the Ferry Inn was open. Hobson's choice for our beer stop, it would appear.
A pint of cooking lager and a good old nose at all the boats later, off we set again, this time crossing the navigation and disapearing into an area of derelict open-cast
workings which is now a nature reserve. I've never before seen so many poisoned newts in one place - and that's not including the wildlife.
We emerged back on the canal and after a bit of arsing around at a check ended up on the opposite bank heading back towards Stanley Ferry. No one fancied adding an extra
couple of miles to take on Orifice's ballbreaker option, so we were soon back at the marina with an opportunity to try out the second of the aforementioned boozers - The
Ship Inn. We got some decent beer this time round - Theakston's Best. Marvellous.
Quickest way home was the way we'd come out, so we retraced our steps back along the river bank and up to the On Inn. Nice length trail, good beer stops. Just the
We gathered in the beer garden and (despite having tipped off mine hosts that there were only six of us) were presented with enough sarnies and chips for twelve. Darned
shame - we just had to finish them all off. Yum.
Despite men and women of greater hashing status being present, I was summarily alotted the job of RA for the day on the basis that I was the only member of Mismanagement
silly enough to have turned out on the day. Just like last time - I really should learn. Given that we were a select group, it was mandatory for everyone to drink, of
course - preferably more than once. The down-downs panned out something like this:
All were accompanied by suitably obscene songs, mainly courtesy of Candyfloss and much to the amusement of Wheels (who has been trying to learn the words to "He's the
Meanest" ever since).
- All six of us, for having got off our arses and actually bothering to turn up.
- Wheels, R'Sole and Pansy for making the journey by bicycle.
- Orifice for services to haring.
- Smuttars, for being a lady driver. Enough said.
- Steve - mine host - for an excellent spread.
- Jake, for having been pressganged as RA.
- Candyfloss, for spending £7,500 on a rail ticket. Honest.
A spiffing hash - thanks to everyone.
One postscript - the prize for the most innacurate prediction of the day goes to Candyfloss for his parting shot to me as I drove out of the car park at 14:25 "Don't bother
rushing home to watch the tennis, Jake - Federer will have stuffed Roddick in straight sets by the time you get home." Nice one, Candy!
Jake the Peg AD 2009-07-14 18:30.
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