Friday 15 April 2011

A Tale of Two Squirrels Episode Two: the one where Monica reached 100

A week after The Great Moan of Mindelo, Squirrel was back, her old self once again, in new(ish) trainers and determined to run. Deviant and Flasher had put this one together, with a start and finish in Arcozelo, although Horny managed to get us all comfortably parked in the wrong car park, the wrong side of the cemetary, through which we all then traipsed in our Sunday best. This one also saw the return of Boozy Woozy, now resident in London, and that brought back Family Jewels and Twirly, as well as a couple of Twirly's friends, who, sadly fell by the wayside rather early on. Definitely not falling, though, was Alex Mutter, who ran his socks off, eventually pipping me to the post in a thrilling sprint finish that must have had the watching throngs dreaming of the Olympics in 2020. His overall bounciness - seen at several excited moments on this one alone - later earned him the name of Tigger, which seemed apt. Meanwhile, his sister, Anna, as usual, glided round the hash in her usual manner, determined and unflappable, and was named Then there was Squirrel, a different runner completely from the week before, marking her 100th hash in fine form. The hares had nothing to fear this week, although the previous week's hares' absence might have reflected their trepidation upon realising that her hashing trainers had not been hung up after all. With another decent turnout of 22 who stayed the distant, down-downs in the sunny afternoon took a while before we repaired to a local spot for the bash

A Tale of two Squirrels - Episode One: The one where Monica lost the plot...

Hash 278 saw us assembled at the seafront in Vila Chã, a cool wind coming off the waves to mask what was actually quite a warm day. Within minutes of the start various hashers were discarding the extra clothing they had donned on emerging from the cars. Titchy Percy and Adam O'Connor were the architects of this one, that took in a good deal of road work, often over quite punishing cobbles and that saw some substantial gaps emerge at times among the nineteen runners (yes, I will use the word, because Walkie-Talkie was glimpsed through a gap in the trees, like one of those old grainy film clips of Big Foot lurching through the American wilderness, running at one point). Running past TP and Gender Bender's house raised brief hopes of an early pit stop, but that was delayed until we reached Angeiras, after about an hour and a half. You'd have thought that the following four-kilometre run more or less along the beach home would have been a welcome, pleasant finish, but when the majority had reached the finish and were tucking into the beer and crisps, the final stragglers were still way behind, so down-downs began. As Tony Robson was awarded the name Inspect-My-Gadget, Walkie-Talkie, Squirrel and the injured Rhythm Stick emerged from the beach, darkly. Welcomed straight into the cirlcle, Squirrel took her beer with rather more than rodent-like gentleness, swearing and vowing never to hash again, threatening the hares with all manner of physical harm, and declaring a rule that hashes should not exceed and hour and a half. It was, indeed, a flounce to remember, and as, the bashing few sat down to their (rather good) food, the questions came: would Squirrel hash again? would the hares be safe in Miramar? what would it have been like if she'd been pissed? Only time would tell...