Running, Roaring, and Revelry with the Harriettes

Run No: 2476

Run No: 2476

At: : Artarmon

On Inn: Freeway Hotel, Artarmon

Hares: Maxine

RUN REPORT by Co-Pilot

Last Tuesday marked the second week in a row that we combined forces with the Harriettes — a wonderful initiative that kept the festive season alive and ensured every hasher got their weekly dose of exercise, entertainment, and mild confusion. The combined turnout was huge once again, boosted by a couple of visitors from the UK… more about that dynamic duo shortly.

The hare for the evening was Maxine — the mysterious alter ego of a Harriette, apparently inspired by Guletsby. Whether this persona was born from creativity, mischief, or festive-season delirium remains unclear, but Maxine embraced the role with gusto. She showed superior hashing instincts by personally setting the walkers’ trail while cleverly outsourcing the runners’ loop to yet another young, fit visitor. No one knows how she negotiated that arrangement — charm, coercion, or sheer Harriette magic — but it was a stroke of genius nonetheless.

The runners’ loop, however, was basically devoid of checks and on‑backs. Arriving at the corner of Archer Rd and Mowbray Rd, I paused, suspicious that things had been far too straightforward. But no — the trail continued with the same unbroken confidence, as if the setter had decided that the best way to challenge the runners was to remove all opportunities for thinking entirely. At that point, I decided to join Venerable and short‑cut home. A tactical decision, made with zero hesitation. When the trail gives you a gift, you take it.

Back at the bucket, most of the walkers were already in and looking far too comfortable. When the runners eventually began to dribble in, red‑faced and questioning their life choices, it confirmed that Venerable and I had made the correct strategic call. The young visitor’s enthusiasm had clearly taken its toll on the pack.

Now, our visitors from the UK… they certainly didn’t hold back. Within minutes they were demanding to know “What sort of Hash is this?” and “Why isn’t the hare running as a sweep?” Their concern escalated when Candlesticks was nowhere to be seen. I casually mentioned that I didn’t care — which was met with a horrified gasp and a stern lecture about lost runners and the possibility of someone lying face‑down in the bush. Again and again, they reminded me that this was NOT a traditional Hash. And honestly, thank god for that. Candlesticks eventually turned up alive, upright, and only mildly confused, which is perfectly acceptable by our standards.

With the bucket in full swing, Lizard took charge of the circle — apparently the Harriettes don’t need an RA, and who am I to question such bold organisational decisions. According to our UK visitors, there were not nearly enough charges, and the circle should only be held after the very last member of the pack returns. We listened politely, nodded occasionally, and then continued doing things the way we always do.

The evening wrapped up with continued shenanigans at the Freeway Hotel, where the combined mob of hashers and Harriettes kept the festive spirit alive well into the night.