Pub: La Taverna, RytonHare: Mary Poppins and Zoom In
Mysterious ghostly stag appears at the beer stop
A plethora of hashers turned up for a rural hash adventure in Ryton last Wednesday, and only now, after a period of calm, have I felt able to append shaking pen to paper to write down this tale of terror. Mary Poppins had the dubious honour of being ‘sans flour’ when the rest of the hash turned up, for which she received a down down later in the circle and for which heinous crime she will never hear the end of. Unsettled by the knowledge that latecomers would have little chance of finding us in the dark woods and may even now be lost forever, the hash set off into the gathering gloom.
Within 5 minutes, Rectum had mysteriously vanished, galloping off ahead of the pack to check out what can only be described as a false trail in the wilderness. He was later found gibbering at a mysterious round circle.
A few minutes later, the hare disappeared, muttering something about ‘secret shortcuts’ and was only discovered at the next checkpoint, fortunately still coherent and breathing. BabeMagnet became short of breath and his ankle mysteriously swelled up. Chafing B was doused in a mysterious liquid and a huge yellow moon rose in the east.
Winding ways continued to lead the unwary astray, and it was many minutes before the hash arrived at the railway crossing point and were invited to ‘cross to the other side’.
Thoroughly unnerved by these supernatural experiences, a splinter group broke away from the main body as a disembodied voice instructed us that they would meet the ‘others’ towards the ‘end’.
Mysterious lights bobbed in the distance, on the Tyne,coxless racing boats were spotted heading north and voices howled in the dark. Terror seized us and in a blind panic we ran along the towpath towards the safety of Mary Poppin’s beer stop.
Much spirit was consumed to sooth our nerves, but it appears that even here the spirit world was still at large ( see photo), and here we discovered 2 more hashers, Counterfeit and Inncons had been spirited away.
And so hashers let this be a lesson to us all
“When the hare runs out of flourBeware, beware the witching hour
Thanks to the hare/s for a particulary spooky run,