Volume 42, Issue 16 | August 7, 2023

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RECEDING HARELINE

Run No.	Date	Hare Apparent	On On
2241	21 Aug	W3 and Robin Hood	Midway Point Tavern (TBC)
2242	28 Aug	Hare needed!	TBA
2243	4 Sep	Hare needed!	TBA
2244	11 Sep	Hare needed!	TBA

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UP AND CUMMING

2 September | Posh Hash Posh Ball @ Bellerive Yacht Club
6-8 Oktober | H5 Oktoberfest 2023 @ Fox and Hounds Hotel, Port Arthur
25 December 2023 | Christmas Day Hash
29 February 2024 | Leap Year H3 Run 8 (as set by the Phantom Hasher!)
8-10 March 2024 | Interhash 2024, Queenstown, New Zealand
28-30 March 2025 | Aussie Nash Hash 2025, Fremantle

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RUN REPORT

The first task at hand on arriving at the Shoreline was to find where we were to gather. A wander through the labyrinthine complex of shiny marbled-and-chromed bars and dining rooms revealed nothing but a smattering of ‘norms’. One panicked check of details online later, we located MOP and TopDek in one of the alfresco areas (alfresco being Italian for ‘freeze your arse off’).

Eventually, the Hare appeared and handed around the menus du jour, with offerings from the lunch specials. Having worked out that there were no $10 pensioner deals in print, Steady Eddie decided that ‘special’ had a different meaning on the effluent side of the river Derwent.

With no gale-force wind or imaginary rain to talk about, your trusty On Sec started to panic. Would he have to resort to ChatGPT to see if artificial intelligence could produce something that a half-mind could read? Worse, would he have to ‘do a Spoof‘ and cut/paste passages out of a steamy romance novel, secure in the knowledge that no one reads run reports anyway?

Neither! My ‘journalistic’ integrity and immpeccable spelling is everything to me!

In the mystical realm of Hashing, where running shoes are donned as badges of courage and sense of direction is thrown to the wind, the Hobart Hash House Harriers and Harriettes embarked on yet another whimsical escapade. This time, the starting point was the iconic Shoreline Hotel in Howrah, where legends were born and laughter was the currency of choice. And the mastermind behind the trail? None other than Sir Eve, a hare known for turning trails into mazes and mazes into mind-bending puzzles.

As the Hashers assembled at the Shoreline, Limp was already living up to his name, trying to stretch his way into a warm-up that could pass for a dance routine from another dimension. Dishlicker, decked out in a kaleidoscope of mismatched attire, was fervently explaining the art of ‘Hashing’ to an unsuspecting passerby, leaving them more baffled than a cat encountering a Rubik’s Cube.

Stunned Mullet, ever the expert in aquatic marvels, was regaling anyone within earshot with tales of his close encounter with a mysterious creature while chasing a false trail in the ocean. TicToc, perpetually racing against the hands of time, had already mapped out a strategy to complete the run, check the trail, and make it back to civilization before his watch could utter another tick.

But the true protagonist of this tale was the Hare, Sir Eve. Armed with bags of flour and a mischievous glint in his eye, he led the pack into a world of uncertainty. The trail, true to Sir Eve‘s reputation, was a masterpiece of confusion. Checks and false trails were laid out like breadcrumbs in a fairy tale gone wild. Hashers scampered in all directions, like ants at a picnic disrupted by a sudden rainstorm.

In The Raw, a Hasher known more for their love of fluffy pillows than rugged trails, hesitantly tiptoed through the bushes, trying to avoid contact with anything remotely resembling nature’s touch. The thorny brambles seemed to take a particular liking to In The Raw‘s delicate demeanor, prompting a chorus of sympathetic chuckles from their fellow Hashers.

An hour that felt like a roller coaster ride through a funhouse of befuddlement eventually led the Hashers back to the Shoreline Hotel. Eve, with an air of triumph, stood at the finish line, surveying his creation. The circle was formed, and the tales of checks, false trails, and the triumphs of Dishlicker‘s eclectic outfit flowed like a symphony of comic mishaps.

Pole Dancer declared that this trail was like a reverse scavenger hunt, where the goal was to lose oneself rather than find treasures. Thrill Seeker managed to return in record time, a testament to his unwavering commitment to punctuality. Big Mac, with a smile that could melt icebergs, proclaimed that trails with more twists than a Shakespearean drama were the secret to his everlasting youth.

And there, amidst the laughter, the Shoreline Hotel bore witness to the camaraderie that made the Hobart Hash House Harriers and Harriettes more than just a running club. It was a tapestry of personalities and quirks, woven together by a shared love for the absurdity of Hashing. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, the Hashers raised their cups in a toast, united by the joy of the trail and the memories of another adventure for the books.

Hmmm. I’ve read worse run reports. I particularly like that In The Raw was given the they/them/their pronouns.

In truth, Eve had set an enjoyable trail, tic-tacking along the Howrah foothills, then circling back around Wentworth Park. The checks and FTs worked well, and the runners could almost feel the walkers breathing down their necks.

Mind you, given their general level of fitness you could probably hear and feel most of the walkers’ heavy breathing from the next suburb.

Good, flat trail, warm night and after another five minutes of making out like teenagers, we finally broke away from each other. Dathan unlocked the door which connected my room to the study and I slipped inside. I figured it was about time to ask for a key of my own. And maybe one for the door that connected my bathroom with his bedroom.

But I sighed, because I knew he was merely walking me to my room to say goodnight.

Neither of us had been spending time in the other’s bedroom. And I couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

On the one hand, it seemed good that he was wary for us to begin an intimate relationship while Ben was living under the same roof. Dathan insisted we take it slow for his child’s sake, and I really did agree.

But on the other hand, there was a part of me that couldn’t possibly take another ragged-breathed make out marathon. I wanted more. Since he always seemed to remember himself and stop right before things got too intense, I wondered if he maybe didn’t want me in that way. Not really.

So, I decided to try to tip the scales in my favor.

On On
Grizzly

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SKOLS

• Sir Eve – Hare.
• Triple K – 550 Runs millstone. Gratulacje!
• Double Vision – c*untry member.
• Stunned Mullet – newly sworn in arsehole, I mean, as a soldier.
• Grassroots – keeps referring to ‘Teressa’. NFI who that its.
• Steady Eddie – claimed to be younger than W3 by ‘bowing to his elder’.

• Thrill Seeker – waited in the car park until Yes Please arrived, so that he could assume his rightful position as ‘last to arrive’.
• TopDek – Hashy birthday FU!
• The Dick family (aka Big Bee Pounder)- racing around Wentworth Park. In reality, In The Raw is just jealous.
• Quarter Pounder and Big Mac – arrived too late to order food again, need a Hash mum or dad to look after them.
• Magic Touch – Hashed the guts out of trail, then hid in some bushes until Limp arrived and raced him ‘home’.
• TicToc – someone had asked about paying for Oktoberfest and TicToc told them that it was ‘the wrong club’.
• …and other skols I forgot to write down.

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To donate to Hands On‘s fundraising effort,
use the QR code above, or click this link.

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HASH FLASH

Link to all photos for Run 2239

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FAREWELL!

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H5 MISMANAGEMENT 2023-24

Grand Master	Triple K
Joint Masters	Growler Sonar	0412 161 017 0488 707 068
On Sec (poxy)	Grizzly	0419 960 561
Hash Cash	Dishlicker Mother of Pearl	0408 994 427
Hash Lips	Snack Bar TicToc
Hash Hops	Contessa Coupla Weeks Sir Eve
Trailmaster	Fringe Benefits
Hash Flash	Steptoe
Hash Horn	Fallen Madonna
Hashet Manager	Viagra	0419 504 105

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Contact us at hobart.h5@gmail.com

Website https://hobarthash.tripod.com/h5/