Who
wuz there: Poacher, Man-Pig, Beefy, Pisswell, Pocket Rocket, Judge
Mental, Piltdown Man, Georgie Porgie, Smellie, Beeflicker, Warmfront,
Psycho, Forrest-Stump (non-runner, all bets refunded), Miss'ing,
Wet-Johnny, Melon-Picker, Soapy, Roger the Dodger, Well Hopped, Ernie,
Strap-On, Polyfella, Sarah, Bobbiball (non-runner, all bets refunded)
and special returnee, Squashed Balls & friend (my apologies, I did
not get your name & I am assuming that you are a relative of either
Squashed Balls or Twin Buffers?)
There
was only one announcement - and it was an important one. Squashed
Balls was in attendance to advise details of Twin Buffers' funeral. It
will take place on Tuesday 11th March at 3.30pm. The venue is The
Church of Saint Mary Magdalene, St Marychurch, Torquay. All Hashers are
invited and Squashed Balls has specifically requested that attendees
do NOT wear black. After the service, there will be a wake at a local
pub.
I
had not checked the weather forecast before venturing out. I don't
think many others had either. Soon after arriving at The Claycutters the
heavens opened. Fortunately, it was only a short burst which had
finished by the time that we started running. If the trail hadn't been
wet before, it was certainly going to be wet now.
Super
Hare, Poacher, stepped into the Circle to brief us regarding the
trail. Some of the information offered was accurate; some of it not.
The accurate bit was that it was muddy and we were going to get wet.
The Shorts' distance of circa 4.5 miles may or may not have been that
accurate. Poacher's statement that he did not know how long the Longs'
trail was might have been a little white-lie. I think a lynch mob would
have gathered if he advised that we'd all be exceeding 8
miles.......albeit, only if you followed Warmfront. Finally, a warning:
"You will be crossing a main road. It is slippery. Be careful". I
foresaw an army of squashed frogs. The legacy of a failed attempt to
cross the A38. Just what on earth had Poacher planned for us this
evening? Time to find out.
"Short, flat and dry?". Anything but.
Out
of the Claycutters' car park and across Homelea/B3344 heading towards
Soapy & Melonpicker's residence - but not so fast. A partially
washed out check holds up the pack. Poacher lingers before adding a
splodge of flour in the alleged correct direction. A lot of meandering
around River Valley Road, Harveys Close and Bellmarsh Lane before Wet
Johnny finds marks on Belmarsh Lane, "On-On".
We
cross the small footbridge over the Teign. It is in flood and flowing
fast. Warmfront doesn't fancy her chances if she falls in. She doesn't.
There is no discernible check on the other side of the footbridge and
the Pig finds a dot of flour to the left and thinks he is "On". He is
not as the next mark he finds is a cross. Back the other way and under
the flooded underpass below the A38.
Poacher
is moaning. The FRB's have run straight over a fishhook and haven't
come back...what fishhook? We follow a flooded track and cross the
B3193 at The Old Mill House and follow the FRB's into and across two
fields, over a stile and then up a broad and muddy track towards
Gappah. But what is this in front of us? It is the Longs on a
reciprocal bearing.
"Arrrrh! They've seen the second fishhook", exclaims the Hare.
Eventually,
we leave the slippery, muddy field and get onto Gappah Lane and the
Long/Short split. The Shorts head right and towards Gappah whilst the
Longs go left for a short while until a public footpath sign attracts
them into a steeply sloping field. Over another stile where Miss'ing
very nearly falls. Across a more level field and over another stile and
onto road. An arrow has us straight across the road at Winstow Cottages
and along a broad farm track and through a galvanised steel gate. This
is the last mark that we see for sometime.
Warmfront
is at the head of the pack and is within sniffing distance of her
husband's culinary expertise. Guided more by her nose than the marks,
she leads the Longs on a merry dance, off trail, past Lawell House and
back into Chudleigh. Here Beeflicker says, "I haven't seen any marks
for a while". Nor has anyone else.
U-turn and back almost to Winstow Cottages....MARKS!
The
trail now passes some oak trees in the middle of a field and we follow
an indiscernible track to another galvanised gate that is almost
blocked by felled timber on the other side. Clamber over the gate we go
and, indeed, more flour is spotted. We are in woodland now. The track
is broad but muddy and slippery; the tale of the entire trail.
Upwards
we climb, acutely aware that we are heading past Chudleigh Rocks and
towards Castle Dyke Fort i.e. we are moving further away from the
"On-Down". Polyfella consults his Strava....4.5 miles. Ooooo.....errr.
it's going to be a long one.
Eventually,
we arrive back onto tarmac and an arrow has us turn back on ourselves
heading southwest along Gappah Lane. To our left, the lane is flanked
by a stone wall. This is the edge of the Ugbrook House estate - Lord
Clifford's residence - a rather nice country pile. Man-Pig, Beeflicker,
Well Hopped, Polyfella, Judgemental and, amazingly, Psycho are at the
back of the Longs.
We
reach a check that has been kicked out straight ahead towards Gappah.
We are certainly going to be running over our previous tracks - and,
indeed, we do. We recognise the entrance to the steep field
(surprisingly no-one is foolish to go around again) and very soon we
arrive at the solitary Long/Short split. From here on we are on the
Shorts' trail back to the pub.
At
Gappah, I am sure that we will take the first right, past Gappah Brake
and drop down onto the B3193 opposite the junction at New Bridge.
PeteTong.
Judge
Mental spies an arrow on a lump of straw in the middle of the
crossroads. We are destined to carry straight on along Gappah Lane.
This is going to be a long one. At least it is downhill. It also
comprised two artificial lake crossings where the lane had flooded. On
the upside, this should wash away some of the accumulated mud.
We
pass through the one-horse hamlet of Fosterville, past the sand pits
and some parked up items of road plant and hit the B3193 - the main road
between Sandygate and Chudleigh Knighton. This is the "squashed frogs"
part of the trail that Poacher had warned us about. We all have an
uneventful crossing and bear right.
Polyfella
and Beeflicker have got a push on, Judgmental and Man-Pig take up the
middle ground whilst Psycho and Well Hopped are tail end Charlies for
the final push back to the pub.
As
expected, at New Bridge we turn left over the stone bridge with a 90
degree bend on either side, over the A38 and then right to drop into
the western edge of Chudleigh Knighton. It is 9.25pm before we are back
at the On-Down and a further 10 minutes to get changed and get to the
bar.
Yes
- Poacher you have excelled yourself. Over 8 miles in February.
Amazingly, it barely rained at all whilst we were out on trail and I
overheadr more than one Hasher comment, "A proper Hash trail this". So
well done Poach for getting us all out and, more importantly, all back.
All a bit of a craich really.
We start by thanking the pub for having us. I think that we are the only ones in the bar.
There are no awards present so it is story time.
Non-running
thespian, Forrest-Stump, has a story about a Harriet who can't stop
fingering her beer. In fact, not satisfied with just getting her finger
in she tried inserting her entire fist. Now, that usually works with a
pint glass. However, this evening, our finger-licking Harriet was a tad
short on funds and had to make do with a diminutive half pint. This
didn't stop her from seeing if she could still get her fist into the
glass....not with great success I'm afraid. Suffice it to say that our
serial Down-Downer, Psycho, was the recipient ......and for the 5th time
in a row! A note for the "Hand-jobber".
Beefy
has a Strava that recorded the Longs at a staggering 8.2 miles. He
also has a story about the Pied Piper of Hamelin. This particular Pied
Piper had left her husband at home preparing dinner (how long does it
take him?). Around the 3 mile mark the piper was getting a little
peckish.
"Oh.
I'm near home. I'll pop back and have my dinner and then go back to
the pub afterwards".
Unfortunately the whole of the Longs followed our
tummy rumbler to the lower reaches of Chudleigh before realising that
they hadn't actually seen a mark for 3/4 mile. A U-turn and a 1.5 mile
detour eventually had the Longs back on track and heading away from
Chudleigh and Chudleigh Knighton. So who was our hungry, short sighted
Harriet? None other than the other half of the Topiary Twins -
Warmfront. A note for the Pied Piper of Hamelin (these two are costing
the Hash an arm and a leg in beer!).
Are there any other stories? Yes.
Georgie
Porgie drops Piltdown in the mire. Georgie tells us how Piltdown Man
Piltdown packed the car for the evening's hash. He had dutifully put two
pairs of trainers in the boot. Unfortunately, both pairs were
Piltdown's. How he can mix up a size 7 with a size 18 is anyones guess.
Recalling the central ethos of George Orwell's Animal Farm there was a
note for, "Four legs good. Two legs bad". Piltdown sensibly elects to
go for the half pint of water so as to ensure that Hashers can get home
before midnight.
Poacher was next up for an excellent, long and shiggy trail. Poacher decides to finish his own half of cider.
There are two beers left.
Bobbiball
has come out to play for the first time in ages. Hence, he deserves a
half pint just for turning up. He enters the Circle with some half
ar*ed excuse that he can't drink because he's on Doctor's orders. This
might have been a valid excuse save for the fact he glided into the
Circle with a full pint of beer in his hand. A note for "He who ignores
medical advise" or some such similarly themed ditty.
We still have one beer left. There must be another story.
Indeed
there is. Pisswell reminds us of Judge Mental splashing us all by
jumping in puddles at the beginning of the Hash. Judge Mental is invited
into the Circle to advise us all of the sentencing guidelines
pertaining to puddle splashing. However, he goes off on a tangent about
tax evasion. Hence a note for our "Embezzeling puddle splasher".
A final reminder of the details for Twin Buffers funeral on 11th March and then it is adieu until next week.
Next
week's Hash is from Rora House with the On-Down somewhere else. I will
need to check with Pisswell to remind me of where we are going.
Dementia is setting in.