West London Hash House Harriers
Run Number 1428 31.1.13 (note the palindromic date)
Venue: Express Tavern, Kew Bridge
With Hobo, it was a case of once bitten, twice shy. The last time he set a run from the Express Tavern, I think only Ryde and Martian Matron followed the whole trail. This was because it went all the way to Richmond Park, round the park, and back. I remember taking the 65 bus back to the pub with Drainoil and Eric. So this time, when we set off along the north bank of the Thames towards Chiswick, I stayed near the river, and met the pack just before Chiswick Bridge. And then, as the pack wandered around Duke’s Meadows, I started to cross the bridge and found the trail, at which point Stayover said, “This is Kew Bridge, right?”
I had expected him to say, “A man, a plan, a canal, Panama” on this palindromic day, but no. Not even “some men interpret nine memos” was uttered. Nor the more philosophical “Do geese see god.” I suppose it was all too much for a lawyer.
So we crossed the bridge, and went down the other side. At which point I advised Drainoil to stay next to the river until Kew Bridge. I did the same, as I believe did people like Bhopal and Knickers, who I always thought were runners of a more serious bent. The pack went off somewhere further south, possibly to Richmond Park. But we all got back to the pub, some a bit later than others.
The pub was busy, mainly because one half was occupied by the staff of Waterstone’s head office, celebrating their imminent move from Brentford to Piccadilly. But in our cosy half we were able to snuggle up and engage in the usual social intercourse. It was good to see Olymprick back again, not to mention Hot and Delicious (even though neither of them actually ran). An indoors circle was appreciated, deftly managed by Shakes Beer and Wacker.
These days, West London H3 has almost lost its reputation for being stingy, and a table top full of down downs was provided. These were rapidly dispensed to a variety of sinners, including the hare, and the visitors (Katoi Boy from Saigon and Randall from New Hampshire). Some hashers had started early in a desperate effort to stay in front (Road Kill, Wacker, Knickers). Others (Ryde and Tablewhine) were rewarded for injuring Boggers and administering poison to Spare Rib. Rambo and 2am were reported to be friendless, we were told Pickled Fart was rich and happy to pay for taxi rides for M&M and Butt Plug, and Stayover and yours truly were given an award for I know not what (something to do with Eric). In between all of this Martian Matron tickled the ivories. A good evening.