Volume 43, Issue 7 | June 3, 2024

RECEDING HARELINE

Run No.	Date	Hare Apparent	On On
2286	17 June	Bad News and W3	Midway Point
2287	24 June	Combined clubs charity run	Royal Yacht Club of Tas
2288	1 July	Pole Dancer	TBA
2289	8 July	Hare needed
2290	15 July	Grassroots	Workers Club, Hobart

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UP AND CUMMING

24 June 2024 | Combined Clubs Charity Run in support of gynaecological cancer research, Royal Yacht Club of Tasmania, Marieville Esplanade, Sandy Bay
19-20 October | H5 Oktoberfest @ TBA
28-30 March 2025 | Aussie Nash Hash 2025, Fremantle
8-10 May 2026 | Interhash 2026, Yogyakarta, Indonesia

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RUN REPORT

The gods are quite adept at testing the faith of their followers. In God School (which the marketing people would love to change to God’s Cool, but no-one’s having it) the ‘Testing the Faith’ class is scheduled between ‘Smiting’ and ‘Barbecuing’*. The Hashing gods generally skipped ‘Smiting’, in favour of ‘Drinking Behind the Sheds’, but did know how to whip up a passable ‘Test’.

* ‘Barbecuing’ was seen as a less confronting name for the ‘Condemnation of Souls to Inferno’ class, but they also cooked up a mean lamb chop.

So it was on Monday that a day of grey skies and soaking rain gave way to a monsoonal downpour, as the sun gave up and knocked off early. The roads were slick and shiny, and driving took more concentration than required to remove your trousers when p!ssed. Who’d be stupid enough to head out to the Hash on a day like this?

The faithful.

As is ordained in the book of Gispert, on the approach to Hash time the clouds slipped on their incontinence pads, and a much larger group of the faithful than expected gathered in the Bowls Club.

Stunned Mullet set up his Kokoda raffle stall in direct competition to the Hash Cashiers, but the lack of a cash alternative limited his market. Something he plans to rectify next week with a more accessible ‘card swipe option’. (See below.)

Wet Hare Growler drew attention away from drinks on offer at modest bar prices and made the usual excuses about trail being washed away, then proceeded to give a detailed description of the trail. (Pole Dancer and the Mensa running Pack were out the door before Growler could finish describing the topographical variations on Box Hill Road, so it was no surprise to later find them running trail in the reverse direction.)

Heading out the door there was one last test of faith, as a modest mizzle had that big sook – In The Raw – scrambling for his WWII great coat, and Lone Arranger protecting her perfectly coiffed head with an umbrella, which had miraculously appeared from parts unknown.

The Pack was halted at the first hurdle as, one-by-one, Hashers tried to open a gate that was most definitely not locked. The rather sturdy-looking brass padlock said otherwise. Bee’s Dick eventually found an escape clause and the Pack filtered out across the paddock and onto the back streets of Claremont.

The dribble-droppped flour trail was still relatively intact, but the Pack was now spread further than Stormy Daniels’ knees. In the distance we could hear calls of ‘On-On!’ from the likes of Sir Eve and W3, but they grew fainter as we grappled with indistinct trail and changes in direction. At the end there were five of us trailing, but steadfastly following trail. Five idiots – Arsecutter, French Tickler, TopDek, Viagra and your humble scribe (plus one dog, who was tethered and had no choice but to follow trail).

Recalling the Hare’s dissertation on the northern suburbs railway system, we located the runners-walkers split – something that the runners had clearly failed to do. Each time that we lost trail we had enough information from Growler‘s ‘brief history of time’ to work out where to head.

After reaching Claremont College – the last trail reference that we could collectively remember – we were on our own, inspecting each bird turd and NBN marking as if this were an episode of CSI Flannelette Curtain.

Then, like some ghastly apparition, an orange-clad figure could be seen in the distance calling ‘orn-orn’ and waving its torch in our general direction. It was Thrill Seeker, doing his bit to assist the slow-Hashing bastards like a latter-day Moses leading the Israelites down the plumbing section of Bunnings. Thrill Seeker spasmodically disappeared, then reappeared to give us an update on his trail-finding efforts. It goes without saying that we didn’t follow him because… you know… Thrill Seeker.

Having reached the cenotaph it was fairly obvious where we needed to go, which didn’t stop Viagra and Arsecutter from ending up on the wrong side of a five-foot high wire fence. Their efforts to scramble over while projecting a look of cool athleticism were in vain.

Trail headed up the old Cadbury trainline, before crossing the face of the factory and heading ‘home’. By the time we returned to the Bowls Club, the rest of the Pack were all silenced by a truckload of pizza.

Sou-westers off to the Hare Growler, and Hare support Sticky Mickey for a well-executed trail, set in trying conditions and followed in drying conditions. You’ve kept the faith!

On! On! Grizzly

SKOLS

• Growler: wet Hare.
• Flat Cat, Sedan Chair, Stunned Mullet, Organ Grinder and Sticky Mickey: can’t remembers.
• Growler: It’s not locked! It’s not locked! It’s locked…
• Growler: something to do with a clit. (Not sure, does it have something to do with cycling shoes?)
• TopDek: seniors parking at the Bowls Club – needed two spaces.
• Bad News and W3: Bad News not looking after W3, who had to scrounge pizza crusts.
• In The Raw: obviously missing his police-issued notebook, had to pinch the Lip’s skol book. (The new ‘security’ lanyard clearly wasn’t doing its job.)
• Growler: sending the runners through a swamp. Bee’s Dick thinks that he spotted a rare flannelette ‘gator.
• Sir Eve: was passed by Bee’s Dick on the highway, but Eve got to the Bowls Club first. Must know the backroads well. (Perhaps on his lolly-run?)
• Lone Arranger: winner of the Bowls Club numbers card draw, having bought half the tickets anyway.

• Stunned Mullet: FRB jacket.
• Can’t Stop: far cough yak hunt. Heading off to swim in ‘Creek’ [otherwise known as ‘Crete’].
• Grassroots: lost property – torch or a small vibrator. Perhaps dual purpose.
• Prawn Star: lost property, skol notebook now contains traces of nuts. Grizzly’s nuts.
• Grizzly: thought he was Mary Poppins, taking off with Lone Arranger’s umbrella. [Wasn’t needed, was it?…]
• Bad News: another seniors’ moment. The Pack headed up a laneway, Bad News took an adjacent private driveway.
• Thrill Seeker: is formally a shithead following the addition of two plaques to the H5 Shithead of the Year Award for previous years.
• Stunned Mullet: will offer his mankini-clad body next week to raise funds for the Kokoda trip.
• Arsecutter and Viagra: fence shitters.

HASH FLASH

Link to all photos for Run 2285

STILL NEWISH! H5 MISMANAGEMENT 2024-25

Grand Master	Clearfell
Joint Masters	Bad News In The Raw
On Sec	Cracker
Hash Cash	Rigor Mortis TopDek
Hash Lips	Bee’s Dick Prawn Star
Hash Hops Assistant Hops	Thrill Seeker Ratu Steady Eddie
Trailmaster	Lord Limp
Hash Flash	Pole Dancer
Hash Horn	Big Mac Quarter Pounder
Hashet Managers	Viagra Next Week

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