Run 2670 – It’s a long way to Tipperary


And a bloody long way from Dawesville to Wembley but I couldn’t resist a run set by the Dynamic duo Crayfish and Bushie, dogs in the car, wet weather gear and we are on our way humming that old tune ‘Stormy Weather‘. Freeways reasonable until Russell rd. and the heavens opened up and the traffic went wild, tailgating and changing lanes, standard fare.

Directions were perfect I arrived early and took Pepper round the oval for a walk, the disadvantaged group were doing skills training under the direction of an old Hamersley hasher Motor Mouth. There was also a colts group and a women’s team under the direction of a lady  who coached a league team, she gave a great exhibition of slipping on her arse and getting wet pants. The blonde with the pony tail won the wet tee shirt competition.

Crayfish and Bushie arrived, out went the placards and slowly they arrived with what was promising you would have to be a dedicated hasher to come and 32 turned up, I stepped into a 6 inch puddle and couldn’t feel my feet, Crayfish gave Motor mouth and myself a Muscat to help fight the cold, loads of dogs, Pembo with twins, Colonel and more , lots of arse sniffing and that was just the owners.  Ramrod arrived, then I heard Budgie from 50 metres away, we are set, hares are worried but its only light showers and they are off. Antman arrives having met a hurdle  before leaving, as old mates we settle down for a long chat, rain gets worse, we huddle under the shelter, soon lots more dogs arrived from lady walkers, one Rhodesian ridgeback tried very hard to get to the rolls.

Rain gets harder, The walkers arrive lead by Phantom and Birdman they all went straight to the Wembley pub now upmarket and made a dent in the beers, a sensible decision. First runner in is FT now surprise there but he may have short-cutted as the the rest of the runners lead by Emu came in at 7.30 pm Emu says 6 km but I checked the map and its more than that well 90 minutes is along run. Circle starts and then the storm, lightning, huge gusts of wing [over 90 kph] and buckets of rain we huddle round the heater. Ramrod carries on with the circle I get a down down, Sir Knob 5 years, Mastitis I think for working for Pfizer and not getting us any Jabs, all good fun. Crayfish arrives with KFC, chips, coleslaw and rolls and we tuck in Birdman commodores my chair I stay with the fire. I haven’t seen a storm like this for years but its home time on the Freeway normal idiots, home a hot shower and a couple of doubles and all’s well with the world. Top night for the true hashers. 9/10.

On On  Stumbles