"A TALE OF TWO CITIES" (or pubs?)
(Words by Charles Dickens and Jim Steinman)
TVH3 The Words for 16th May 2022
The Bishop Lacy, Chudleigh (or was it?) Run No. 1917
HARES: Soapy and Melonpicker
Who
wuz there: Melonpicker, Soapy, Shitfaced, Cheerio Beerio, Man-Pig,
Archangel, Beefy, Pisswell, Ernie, Forrest-Stump, Coldtits, Rambo,
Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned,
Manopause, Wet-Johnny, Bobbiball, Zoot, Hotlips, Slip-on-Me, Ablesemen,
Wetfart, Swinger.
'It
was the best of times. It was the worst of times. We had everything
before us. We had nothing before us'. These Words, immortalised in
Charles Dickens' A tail of Two Cities pretty much summed up the
evening.
It
had been a long, long time since Teign Valley had run from the Bishop
Lacy. So long, in fact, that our illustrious GM confirmed that he'd
never run from there. The senior citizens of the hash cast their minds
back probably no more than 7 or 8 years. Back then, and indeed way
before that, there was a time when Chudleigh was Hash Central.
Back
then, TVH3 very rarely ran from the same pub more than twice a year.
The two exceptions being the Bishop Lacy and the Teign House Inn run by
Robin and Wendy and Captain Pugwash respectively. Both pubs have a long
history of making the Hash so very welcome. And, with that in mind, the
oldies were looking forward to a return to our roots and reminiscing
about the Good Old Days.
Even
in his absence, Bluebird still managed to trace the history of our last
run from the Bishop Lacey; way back in 2018 - staggering.
It
was fitting that our return to the Bishop Lacy should be organised by
one of Teign Valley's most senior Hares, Melonpicker, on the cusp of his
70th birthday (or was Melonpicker just angling for free Down-Downs on
two consecutive weeks?). We will never know. What a fantastic effort. I
wonder how many more of us will Hare into our 70s; a brilliant inning
by anyone's standards.
Enough of the nostalgia. What about the run?
The Circle
We
circled up in Chudleigh's main car park. Shitfaced asked for any
announcements. There were effectively none. Nonetheless, Rambo advised
the Circle that the run diary was now full through to September. Well
done all those volunteer Hares.
The Trail
Soapy
gave a brief description of the trail, including approximate lengths
and scant details of a secret sweetie stop. Then Melopicker ruined it
all by querying the distances and then telling everyone where the
sweeties were. And with that, we were off.
Left
out of the car park, left again and through the roads and alleyways of a
newish housing estate with checks aplenty. Along Greathill before
turning right onto Oldway and heading southwest before another right and
down a steep lane towards the sewage works.....lovely. Under the A38
before arriving at the first Long/Short split. The Shorts stayed on a
footpath entering Chudleigh Wood and climbing steeply uphill. Over a
stile and then downhill to the lower end of Parr's Lane.
The
Longs, meanwhile, climbed over a steel gate and headed for the River
Teign near Huxbear Bridge (an old railway bridge unused since the
Beeching cuts in the mid-sixties).
Wet
Johnny was way out in front. Pursuers comprised Ernie, Manopause,
Man-Pig, Forrest Stump, Beefy, Pisswell, Swinger, Big End, and Well
Hopped. The trail along the banks of the Teign was in an open field and
re-entered woodland at Putshills.
A
little further along, we climbed another steel gate and continued along
the Teign, but no marks. Beefy and Man-Pig continued all around a
field almost up to Northwood Farm before realising that there was no one
behind us.
Back
to the gate over which we'd clambered not 5 minutes earlier - marks! We
should never have crossed into the field. It had been a sharp U-turn
and up to the top edge of Chudleigh Woods. We passed Smellie who is
still constrained to walking on Doctor's orders.
Soon
we rejoined the Shorts' trail at the stile existing Chudleigh Woods;
passing Able Semen and Slip-on-Me before hitting the end of Parr's Lane.
Bobbiball was another backmarker but the Shorts and Longs (who hadn't
had a jolly jaunt around an unmarked field) were within sight. At the
top of Parr's Lane, we came to the sweetie top.
All
too soon, we were dropping back into Chudleigh across a flyover and
then the inevitable - a check. This had us going left along a footpath
(now enclosed) before crossing Old Exeter Street where a Walkers/Long
Short split offered a shortcut back to the car park. For the
non-Walkers, it was down and across New Exeter Road and thence down past
the cricket field to the bowling club at Old Kate Bridge and another
check. This narrow lane was choc-a-bloc with cars. I never knew that
bowling was so popular and the bowling green was packed with smiling
retirees enjoying an early summer's evening. It all looked rather
tranquil.
The
check had been kicked out right along Kate Brook. The old footpath
soon gave way to a new footpath-cum-cycle path before hitting tarmac at
Towerhill and the final Long/Short split.
The
Shorts had a straight run northwest back to the car park. The Longs
went up Towerhill, towards Uggbrook House, for a short while before the
trail took us right and along a track known as Garden Spot Lane. An
arrow had us turning left through an iron kissing gate and then right
through another. At this point, Wet-Johnny and Beefy were ahead of the
Pig. But, in close pursuit were Big End, Ned, Well Hopped, and Swinger.
This footpath ran at the lower edge of some woodland before crossing an
open field, another two kissing gates, and re-entering Chudleigh near
Rock Road. An absence of marks had Beefy and Wet-Johnny checking
unsuccessful avenues. The Pig found the trail on Rock Road before
turning right onto Parkway Road. I had expected the trail to take us up
the ginnel next to the church but no.
The
trail followed Parkway Road up to its junction with Clifford Street
where it joined up with the Shorts' trail. In no time at all, we were
back at Chudleigh car park and looking forward to renewing our
acquaintance with an old friend - The Bishop Lacy.
The Down-Downs
Once
back in the car park it was a quick change of clothes for the 300 yards
jaunt down to The Bishop Lacy where Robin and Wendy were opening up,
especially for us. A special treat organised by the Hares. We were so
looking forward to the piping hot sausages and chips that Robin and
Wendy were putting on the bar for us hungry hashers. I could almost
smell the sausages....ahhhhhhhh!
STOP RIGHT THERE!
Before you go any further, are you hungry? Will you be hungry forever?
Well, let me sleep on it. I'll give you the answer in the morning.
I gotta know right now. Are you hungry?
Yes....and thirsty!
Then a phone call. It was Arkangel.
"There is no room at the inn".
Hmmm, it's not Christmas Eve pondered the Pig.
Apparently, The Bishop Lacy, which does not usually open on a Monday, still wasn't open on a Monday.
It eventually transpired that Wendy hadn't put Melonpicker's request in the pub diary. Poor Robin was Home Alone (1990) and had no staff to attend the bar as it is Robin who usually mans the kitchen.
C'est
la vie. With that news, it was an about turn and a quick yomp back up
to the car park via the Ship Inn. The 300-yard retreat was not without
its incidents. The first involved an elderly pedestrian attempting to
cross the road opposite a charity shop by means of the pedestrian
crossing. An even more elderly gentleman was driving up the road at a
sedate 15 mph. We could see that he was old by the way in which he was
hunched over the wheel of his rather battered silver Peugeot estate. It
all happened in slow motion - as these things always do. The car
appeared to slow. The pedestrian stepped onto the crossing. Nothing
happened. The car kept moving at 15 mph. The pedestrian was about to
take his second step across the crossings. IMPACT! Well, not quite. A
startled pedestrian leapt back just in time as the car continued its
crawl across the crossing. Its driver completely oblivious to the
near-death collision.
The second event was to check:
a) was the Ship open?
and
b) could they accommodate twenty-plus hungry and thirsty Hashers?
The answer was:
Yes. No. Yes.
Yes. Please come in.
No. I'm afraid that we don't do food.
Yes. We do do beer.
And with that we were Inn - so to speak.
This
is the first time that I'd even been into the Ship. It is a good
old-fashioned boozer. Simple and unpretentious. It has a pool table, a
jukebox, and a TV. A real locals' pub. Indeed, half a dozen locals were
watching a football match on the box with teams that I've never heard
of, "New" and "Ars". The landlord made us very welcome as we huddled in a
slightly elevated part of the bar next to those glued to the footie, or
was that the Ars they were looking at?
Before
long, it was halftime and our cue to move to the other end of the bar,
to minimise disturbance to the football supporters, to do the
Down-Downs. This week it was Forrest-Stump's turn to preside over the
proceedings.
Being
our first time in the Ship, it would have been far too presumptuous to
ask the landlord to sub the Down-Downs so I believe the Hare paid for
them all. Bravo!
Just
as the Down-Downs were about to commence, Forrest decided that a quick
rendition of Bobbiball, Bobbiball, etc was called for. Once that was out
of the way, Forrest delivered the Down-Downs in reverse order.
First up were the Hares, Soapy and Melonpicker, intertwining arms. Here's to the Hares etc etc.
Second
up it was Melonpicker again. This time for his birthday which is on
Friday. All the right notes - not necessarily in the right order. I do
hope that the second half hadn't started!
Third,
in the order of proceedings were a couple of badges to assign; 200
runs for Beefy and 700 runs for Soapy. Down-Downs were dispatched to
the sounds of "Hold it in your hand, Mrs . Murphy...." for Beefy and
"Get a life, life, life" for Soapy.
Next,
it was over to the awards. Forrest had the Jester's hat from the
previous week but couldn't think of a story. However, Man-Pig had one
or two to recount. The first story related to the near RTA at the
pedestrian crossing earlier in the evening. Here it was revealed that
the identity of the elderly pedestrian was none other than Man-Pig and
that the doddery driver was Forrest Stump - obviously on a mission to
commit porcuscide! However, the hat was not going straight back to
Forrest. The Pig asked Hotlips to recount a conversation, earlier in the
week between his PA and a senior member of the Hash.
The story recounted went something like this:
"I have some information that could make you a very rich woman".
"Now what would that be?"
The
senior hasher proved details of this almost fool-proof, but not perhaps
hasher-proof, plan of how to access free cash. The senior hasher then
asked, "And what might I receive in return for this valuable
information?"
"Anything you want for that amount!"
And
so it transpired that the Jester's hat went to Cheerio Beerio to the
tune of "Here's to a lady of easy virtue. She's a hasher through and
through etc......." Well. Not quite. Cheerio will be sick if she drinks
beer. With no WKD immediately to hand, Cheerio nominated Piddler to
accept the Down-Down on her behalf. Despite the transgendering, the
(Down-Down) Song Remained the same.
Next,
it was Melonpicker's turn to tell a story. This involved the stand-off
between a stubborn Ginger Tom and Slip-on-Me's dog....a lurcher I
think. A Down-Down to Slip-on-Me and a note for the ginger pussy
dogger.
Forrest
was just about to wrap up proceedings by asking, "Where's next week's
hash running from?" when Coldtits came forward. She had the Hashit
shirt from the previous week. It was also the Old Hashshit shirt that
had been in hiding for at least 6 months until Smellie had mysteriously
found it in her bag (the culprit's still out there Smellie). I really
cannot remember the misdemeanor for the life of me. However, the shirt
went to Pisswell and I'm sure for good reason.
We
concluded the evening with Soapy handing out cake to celebrate
Melopicker's upcoming birthday. Regrettably, it was a bought cake so we
were not treated to one of Soap's fantastic works of art. It always
seems such a shame to cut into any of Soapy's cakes. There really has
been a fantastic selection over the years!
Epilogue
Well,
this wasn't quite the end of the evening; a rather sorry tale to tell.
As Hashers were leaving the pub a rather dejected-looking Bobbiball
scuffled past. He looked up forlornly, "It's my birthday tomorrow" and
left. I am so sorry Bobby. I had no idea. Next week. Next week.
Next week
Hound Tor car park with Hare, Pisswell assisted by Beefy. The On-Down is The Rugglestone.
On-On to next week
A SPANISH INQUISITION AND OAP WALKABOUT (1971)
TVH3 The Words for 9th May 2022 - Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell - Run No. 1916
HARES: Shitfaced & Bluebird
A
tiny figure could be discerned walking along the roadside verge of the
South Devon Expressway. Zooming in from a motorway camera, more detail
emerged. It was an elderly gentleman, smartly, if not rather bizarrely
attired in white flannel trousers with a red windcheater and white
baseball cap. He was carrying a shopping bag and was limping. To be
continued..
Who wuz there:
Shitfaced, Bluebird, Man-Pig, Archangel, Beefy, Ernie, Rambo, Piltdown
Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Pollyfella, Pork Torpedo, Hornie,
Melonpicker, Soapy, Strap-On, Strap dancer, Manopause, Wet-Johnny,
Broadshit, Bobbiball, Zoot, Hotlips, Slip on Me, Able Semen.
The Circle
The Circle started with an inquisition! On arriving at the Circle, Man-Pig was under instant interrogation by Shitfaced:
"Where were you Man-Pig? I messaged you this morning at 7.10. The Hares are Shitfaced and FRIENDS.."
A
bewildered Man-Pig reached for his pocket. Pulled out his phone and
went to the Facebook Messenger app - no messages from Shitfaced.
Nevertheless, in the face of technological calamity, Bluebird was contacted successfully to do the needful.
Announcements
- just the one as Bluebird unsuccessfully launched an appeal for
Shantymen for an upcoming music festival from the Two Mile Oak -
complete with a quick 'Haul Away' demonstration which probably
convinced the suspicious little huddle not to get involved.
Over
to Shitfaced, who merely advised that the Walkers was half the length
of the Shorts and that the Longs was......err....longer. Additionally, a
show of hands for food in the pub afterwards. About ten hashers raised
their hands for chicken casserole and bread.
The Trail
The
trail headed up Fluder Hill to the first junction where the Walkers and
the Shorts bore right and down Southey Lane. The Walkers had a
leisurely route down Southey Lane and turned right, straight across the
A380 and then a jaunt around the playing fields before returning to the
pub via Fore Street.
The
Shorts, meanwhile, turned left up the A380 heading towards Torquay.
This took them on the footbridge over the railway and top the concrete
footpath onto Eginswell Lane. The trail then headed back to
Kingskerswell viaWhilborough Road and Huxnor Road. Just before Huxnor
Road changes name to Yon Street, an arrow had us turning left and down
the new service road parallel to the Kingskerswell bypass.
At
the end of the service road, we arrived at the second, and last,
Long/Short split. The Shorts climbed the steep embankment up to the
quarry car park and then turned right onto Maddacombe Road followed by
another right and almost immediately left down Church End Road. A right
onto the lower end of Yon street and finally left onto Rose Hill to
rejoin the Walkers.
Meanwhile,
the Longs continued their interminable climb up Fluder Hill. Just as
the ascent levels off, we came to the first check. Wet-Johnny carried
straight on, Beefy went left and Pollyfella checked right. Eventually
an "On-On". it was Pollyfella. The trail took us right and down
Kingskerswell Road to Riviera Way.
An
arrow directed us right and along the A380 towards Kingskerswell. Soon
we were rejoining the Shorts at the footbridge over the railway line
near the petrol station. At this stage, the pack comprised Pollyfella,
Man-Pig, Wet-Johnny, Beefy, Ernie, Broadshit and Manopause. Along
Eginswell Lane we caught up and overtook Rambo, Coldtits and Smellie.
Then there was a long gap before we encountered Zoot, Hotlips, Horny,
and Pork Torpedo.
There
was a check at the junction of Whilborough Road and Edginswell Lane.
Pollyfella checked left up Whilborough Lane whilst the Pg carried
straight on. Only one dot but the Pig persevered and eventually got
back on trail at the bottom of Huxnor Lane. At the second Long/Short
split, the Longs turned away from Kingskerswell as the trail took us up
Doctor Mac's Lane.
Just
before reaching North Whilborough, an arrow had us yomping up Common
Lane and across Whilborough Common and Kerswell Downs. The dry weather
had left this part of the trail stoney and uneven underfoot i.e. not
very quick. The trail exited at the old Quarry next to Foredown Kennels
where we rejoined the Shorts. For the second time on trail, we passed
Rambo and Coldtits. Thence on to the On-Down and a pint of Naked lady!
'HIS HARE-RAISING TALE' (1951 Warner Bros. Looney Tunes short)
Loitering
like a racecourse tout, the on-trail hare (Shitfaced had wisely
adjourned immediately to the bar) was on the lookout for hashers wanting
a 'short-cut'. Melon Picker politely demurred, as did Coldtits and S M
Ellie before two likely lasses approached.
'Short-cut through to Kerswell Downs ladies?' enquired the tout. Able
and Slip on Me hesitated but were hooked on the dubious enterprise. 'Are
you sure we can get through?' asked Able, peering suspiciously down
the embankment which seemed heavily overgrown. 'Of course! I've been
through before with no problems and look, there are some other walkers
down there!' replied the shady tout.
Their fate now sealed, the trio plus Muttley set off on the jolly jaunt. Whatamistakatomaka!
All
went well for all of a hundred yards when the safari came upon the
walkers sitting beside a stream that barred the way. The drop and span
of the obstacle indicated impending disaster for those foolhardy enough
to attempt the crossing and The Adventurers (1970) wisely hoisted the white flag and retreated to whence they had previously come.
However,
Henry Morton Stanley - in search of the lost short-cut - was made of
sterner stuff and vowed to continue - come what may .... Sigh.
The
vegetation became ever denser and more exotic and a machete was
Shirley needed now. Treacherous was the wetlands and desperate was the
Flightless One. Further progress was now impossible and the Bird looked
for the exit from A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984).
Carefully
scaling the barbed wire fence adjacent to the carriageway and
clambering over the metal crash rail, the Birdbrain triumphantly
screeched to the gods on high: 'Salvation! I'm free at last!'
But
there was a problem, a serious problem. Clearly, pedestrians should not
be making their way along the verge. Warning lights from oncoming
vehicles flashed and the ag-ed pensioner, still clutching his shopping
bag, fled for the flyover bridge in the distance.
An
hour later, with hardly two miles on the Garmin, a dishevelled and
badly shaken figure rejoined the trail just by Man-Pig's abode.
The
apparition frantically waved at S M Ellie and Coldtits for assistance
but was merely waved back at by the two shorts who thought nothing of
the Bird's bizarre antics.
Wet
Johnny and Pollyfella swept past, closely pursued by Beefy, but the
Bird was too shattered to speak and grimly made his way to the bar for a
much-needed encounter with a Naked Lady.
The Down-Downs
Once the scoff had been devoured, it was time for the Down-Downs - Justice Pig presiding.
First
up was Smellie who had inadvertently taken the Hashshit shirt home with
her three weeks previously. Although the shirt had been officially
awarded to U-Bend, some cunning devil had sneaked it into Smellies's bag
- unbeknown to Smellie. The Clouseau-like inquisition no.2 commenced
with first U-Bend being named as a person of interest. This then
progressed onto another suspect whose identity eludes me.
Finally,
the spotlight fell on Coldtits. Not for the first time, an
investigation has been pursued by the victim on behalf of the guilty and
resulting in the prosecution of the innocent. The guilty party is still
out there planning his(or her) next diabolic deed.
Nonetheless,
Coldtits came forward to despatch her half a pint of water to a song
that I've never heard before delivered by our very own Songmeister,
Pork Torpedo.
Coldtits
duly delivered the Horned Hat to Able Semen for soliciting business
en-route with co-solicitor Slip-on-Me. Before departing, Ernie had
mentioned they had also been seen short-cutting - if only the hash had
known what really happened out there.
Pork
Torpedo revealed that it was Soapy and Melonpicker's 7th wedding
anniversary this very day and they both had a DD to celebrate.
The Curse of Chucky (2013)
and the badges continued as a 50th run badge was awarded to Strap-On
but was immediately rescinded as he had taken possession six months ago -
must be a 75th run badge then!
Finally, 200th run badges were correctly given out to both Zoot and Hotlips.
We
thanked the pub for the beer and casserole and the night was done,
except that the hares seemed to have been overlooked - or had I had too
many Naked Ladies, Grand Master?
POSTSCRIPT
A Night to Remember (1958) indeedy. First came The Search (1948) for Man-Pig before trail laying and then yet another calamitous adventure in the Badlands (1973) below the South Devon Expressway. For a few moments there, I thought I was in trouble.
Someone
told me in the pub (MP?) that the farmer who owned the marshy strip
had invested in trees and other plants, probably to prevent A Passage to India (1984) and Kerswell Downs. I am still haunted by my anguished cries on the video I took en routey..
If
I had been apprehended, I had carefully rehearsed my 'addled little old
man' routine - which is getting more realistic as time goes on... sigh.
A relief to get out and see everyone, including Bobby who dropped by for his Naked Lady as well.
Time to say goodbye from Man-Pig and goodbye from me until the next time.
Next week
Chudleigh
car park with Hares Melonpicker and Soapy. the On-Down is the Bishop
Lacy which Robin and Wendy are opening especially for us. Bravo.
On-On to next week.
PERFECT TEN (2019)
Run No. 1915 TVH3 The Words for 2nd May 2022
Circle-up from South Brent Railway Station Car Park
HARE: Man-Pig
Who wuz there: Man-Pig, Beefy, Shitfaced, Ernie, Rambo, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie.
The Circle
The
Circle was, erm, well - small. Only ten souls arrived at South Brent
(Primrose Junction) station car park for the May Bank Holiday hash.
Bank holidays are always quite iffy to call in respect of numbers. Some
people are on holiday, others have visitors staying and some have
"looking after the children" commitments.
The
weather also didn't help; Sunday and Monday were more damp than
raining. Shitfaced also commented on the distance. Historically, South
Brent has never been out of area for Teign Valley Hash. We have had
several hashes from here in the past, usually hared by Poacher. Other
regular "far away" venues have, in the past, included Dunsford, Halwell,
Drewsteignton, Exeter, Mortonhampstead and Chagford. So, South Brent
is not so far really.
However,
10 is not the lowest TVH3 turnout recorded on a bank holiday. I do
recall a McWot trail about 17 years ago, in Kingskerswell. It was the
August bank holiday. We had eight!*
Shitfaced
announced that there were no announcements and then waited another ten
minutes to see if anyone else would turn up. By 7.30 ,it was over to
the Hare.
Man-Pig
confirmed that there was a Walkers', Shorts' and Longs'. Approximate
distances: 1.5 miles, 4.5 miles and 5.5 miles. There would be quite a
few back checks. Some blank faces suggested that I might have reverted
back to my native gaelic in my final sentence. The Pig clarified what a
back check was and everyone seemed happy enough.
The Trail
The
trail was simple. In basic terms we were going up the River Avon on
its southwest side and returning back along its northeast side.
The
Walkers would follow the trail up to Penstave Copse. Here they could
go off-trail and follow any of the paths within this piece of woodland
which is managed by the Woodland Trust. They would, eventually, always
come back to the marked trail as there are only two ways in and out of
the copse. They would then backtrack on the outward trail back to the
car park......Simples!
The Shorts would carry on up to Didworthy and then follow the public footpath back to South Brent via Lutton.
The
Longs would do the Shorts plus a two Long/Short splits. The first L/S
split was at Binnamore Cross and took the Longs on a half mile loop up
around Badworthy before rejoining the Shorts opposite the junction for
Didworthy.
The
second Long/Short split had the Longs on another loop. Instead of
heading straight into Didworthy, they looped up to Shipley Bridge and
then back into Didworthy via the public footpath.....but only after
having encountered another back check.
The
Walkers comprised Piltdown Man, George Porgey and Smellie. Smellie was
still recovering from a bad cold and was also having treatment for a
tight tendon in her foot. Hence no running for at least a month. 1.5
miles seemed too short and 4.5 miles too long given her foot injury. We
agreed on a happy medium. "Wander around the woods until you've
covered 2.5 miles and then walk back to the pub. The woods are very
pretty this time of year". And that is what Smellie did.
The
Shorts had Big End, Well Hopped and Ned running it all. At the more
relaxed end of the athletic spectrum Rambo and Shitfaced walked the
entire Shorts trail and weren't even late for the pub!
Only
Beefy and Ernie committed to both of the Longs and they were quite
close together. It was good to see Beefy back after a two week absence
due to covid and my apologies to Ernie as I missed him off last week's
Words.
The Down-Downs
Back
in the pub everyone commented on how nice the run was. It is the time
of year that the bluebells are out in force on the moor; especially in
woodland. Frankly, you could hardly move for bluebells. It was a very
picturesque trail with three viewpoints marked en route. It was a shame
that the weather wasn't a bit better - the views would have been even
more stunning.
The
pub cum cafe had opened especially for us. The owner, Richard, is an
ex South Hams hasher. He had got a pin (36 pints) of Dartmoor Jail Ale
in especially for us as the cafe doesn't usually do draught ale.
Additionally, he had put on a Hash menu for us. A choice of vegetable
chilli with rice and tacos or mild chicken curry with rice and
pappadoms for £6 a head. The chilli was lovely and I think the curry
went down well too.
Because
Richard had gone out of his way for us, everyone returned to the On
Down and virtually everyone ordered food - even if it was only to have
as a takeaway. Richard wasn't at all disappointed that we only had ten
hashers present and he made us very welcome.
In
fact, the low turnout meant that we could all join in a single
conversation without splintering into smaller groups. It was all rather
convivial.
After
devouring the scoff, it was on to the Down-Downs. I hadn't dared be
cheeky enough to ask the pub to sub us the Down-Down drinks so we paid
for four halves of Jail Ale but, to whom should they go?
Beefy
had the only physical award; the Baby Bat Hat award from three weeks
ago. The contenders were Georgy Porgy as Chocco had a poo less than
fifty yards after leaving the car park.
However,
there then ensued a story about a hasher referring to the marks as
having been laid in dust and not flour! Man-Pig then elaborated that
Ernie had been quite right. The price of flour has shot up to a punitive
90p a bag. The Scotsman in Man-Pig took over the driving seat, "I'm
nay paying that!", in a Private Fraser accent. "I know. I can use the
dust in the vase on the mantlepiece. Well, more urn than vase".
And
so it was that poor Rusty's ashes were employed for the good of the
hash. This must mean a note for the dustman but, as we all know,
dustmen are members of the National Union of Refuse Disposal Engineers -
NURDE for short. Hence a note for the Nurde as Urnie sorry, Ernie
took his Down-Down.
Second
up was Shitfaced. He had a story to recount (or should that be
recant?). Anyway, it concerned the sheer gall of a hasher who had the
balls to go into print on Facebook and tell the world that he had been
sucked-off on the hash. Some clarification, please?
Shitfaced
elaborated that the lucky blighter was our very own Man-Pig. "Wot? Me?
I hardly ever use Facebook!". More elaboration. The story actually
originated from a Facebook post by Man-Pig referring to tics that had
attached themselves at last week's Hash. As the old saying goes, "Never
let the truth get in the way of a good story".
Beefy then led the "Hold it in your hand Mrs Murphy" song for Man-Pig's down-down.
There
were two drinks left. Were there any more stories? There were none so
the final Down-Downs went to the Hare and to Smellie for being the last
back to the pub.
Despite
the numbers, I think everyone enjoyed the trail and the views. The pub
was incredibly welcoming and would be delighted to have us back. We
must think of setting another trail from here in the future. Our thanks
to Richard, the owner/landlord, for making us so welcome.
ADDENDUM
The
Bank Holiday hash was originally Thomas Cooked under the heading: BB's
Birthday Trail, but events conspired against me and I was unable to
discharge my duty. Apparently, whilst reporting my cancellation to the
pack, Man-Pig seemed to have 'volunteered' himself and subsequently
planned an extravaganza like no other.
Beefy
nearly persuaded me to come along - if only to do the walkers' trail -
but I could not risk leaving the house that evening.
You
can only try to imagine my disappointment for the valiant Man-Pig when I
saw how few had turned out. However, when I scanned Beefy's FB images, I
realised what a great trail we had missed out on. And MP is spot on
when he stated that a small turnout can be just as good fun - remember
that post Christmas trail from the Kings Arms?
I
am really pleased that next week's edition is from the Nellie and,
perhaps, all fingers tightly crossed, I can partly repay Man-Pig's
favour.
ON ON, BB
*
The all time 'record' low turnout for a TV hash was also to McWot and
Vera on a Bank Holiday Monday. Only one hasher appeared and McWot and
Vera drove the hasher (the identity unknown) around part of the trail
before adjourning to the pub.
Next week
Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell with Hare, Shitfaced (and friends!).
On-On to next week, MP
'THE ONLY WAY IS UP' by Man-Pig
TVH3 The Words for 25th April 2022 - Bridford Inn, Teign Valley
Run No. 1914
HARES: Forrest Stump & Man-Pig
Who
wuz there: Forrest-Stump, Man-Pig, Shitfaced, Arkangel, Pollyfella,
Only Here for the Beer, Piltdown Man, Georgy-Porgy, Rambo, Fallen
Woman, Coldtits, Piddler, Strap-On, Pisswell, Krystyna (Pisswell's
friend), Swinger, Well Hopped, Wood-Lend, Warmfront, Pork Torpedo,
Horny, Wet-Johnny, Erection, Manopause, Melon-Picker, Soapy,
Slip-on-Me.
The Circle
The
bright sunny weather, and the promise of one of Forest's excellent
trails, combined to result in a full 27 souls making the long journey
to Bridford (not Cridford and not Bradford!). Well, not Cridford for 26
out of 27! It further resulted in an above average number of hashers
electing to do the Longs. In fact I understand that 14 Hashers
undertook the Longs....and well worth it. A testament to the quality of
Forest's trails.
Forrest's
description of the trail was brief to say the least. He dropped a
handful of sawdust on the ground and said, "The marks look like this".
And, with that, we were off.
The Trail
The
trail took us back up the village and left past the church. At the
rear of the church was the first Long/Short split. The Longs went left
and around the newish (4 year old) footpath/boardwalk before looping
around the top of the village. At this point the usual suspects were
FRB'ing: Wood-Lend, Warmfront, Wet Johnny, Pollyfella, Erection,
Manopause - no Beefy this week. Beefy is now covid negative but still a
little drained. But where were Pisswell and Krystyna? We assumed that,
as she had her friend with her, she might opt for the Shorts or the
Walkers. What a foolish thought to entertain?
The
Longs came to a check at the entrance to a ploughed field and, sure
enough, this proved to be the trail. After only 50 yards of field, it
was back into a landscaped part of the village that I've never been to.
One part of it is a small, nicely mowed, area. It has an arc of steps
and looks a little like a very small Roman amphitheatre.
Trying
hard to keep up with Wood-Lend, we re-entered the village above the
church to rejoin the Shorts' and the Walkers' trails. The first check
had been kicked out and we headed down Pound Lane catching up with the
last of the Walkers, Arkangel, Fallen Woman and Slip-on-Me. The next
check had also been kicked out. It was right and down the footpath that
takes you past Pook's Cottages. All very picturesque. On running down
the access road to Pook's VCottages, I passed Shitfaced and Only Here
for the Beer. "There's a lot of downhill here Man-Pig", was Shitfaced's
comment. I looked dead ahead to the enormous wooded hill in front of
us. "Not for long", I replied.
At
the bottom of the access road, we came to the minor road that connects
Bridford to Christow. It was straight across and to the Walkers/Long
& Short split where Forrest was waiting for us with some new
instructions. "If you are not a fit Short, you may want to do the
Walkers' trail?".
The
Walkers and sensible Shorts, went straight up the woodland steps that
would eventually take them up past Scatter Rock Quarry. This is about a
150m change in elevation but, believe me, this was by far the easiest
option. Forrest had got permission (well, so he says) to run on private
land. This had the Longs and the fitter Shorts climbing over a gate
marked "Private Property. No Entry" in ready typescript.
The
trail then took us in a long loop past another disused quarry until we
came to a peculiar mark on the ground - a fishhook with the number 8
below it. Dutifully, Manopause, Erection, Swinger and Well-Hopped
waited for the co-hare to arrive before setting off again. However,
where were Wood-Lend, Warmfront, Polyfella and Wet-Johnny?
By
this time, Pork Torpedo, Horny and Piddler (sans ski poles) had
caught up and we set off on the trail again. Just as we rounded a bend
to our right, our hearts sank. What appeared before us was a dead
straight clearing in the woods for as far a the eye could see. It was a
very steep incline and looked for all the world as though it should
have a ski lift running up it it. In fact, if you'd thought this you'd
very nearly be right. This is because in 1913 a cable car system was
built here by German engineers. This was to transport ore from the
quarries all the way down to Christow railway station. It was just as
well that the Germans had finished building it in 1913 or they would
have spent the next 4 years in an internment camp!
Earlier
in the day, when laying the trail, I had seen seven deer along this
part of the trail. All very rewarding to see nature in their natural
habitat.
After
a 400 yard climb, the trail took us right and across an open field and
over a dry stone wall and back into woodland but, then, no trail. This
is where the Hares had got disorientated for the best part of an hour
earlier in the day.
Man-Pig,
Pork Torpedo, Horny and Piddler were at the back of the pack, or so we
thought. We followed a couple of marks till they ran out and then,
trusting to Hare's insider knowledge, continued downhill off-trail. It
would only be a matter of time before we rejoined the Walkers' trail.
Eventually, back on trail we ran uphill to where Forrest had relaid the
dodgy steep descent through the woods. Forrest was dutifully calling to
make sure that no-one got lost in this, the most challenging, part of
the trail. Forrest confirmed that everyone else had been through and
that we were the last. Well, not quite. No-one had seen Pisswell. Had
she elected to do the walkers' trail and was now well in front of us or
was she at the back of the Long? Only time would tell.
Forrest
said that he would wait a while and keep calling whilst the four
tail-end charlies continued up to the gorse heathland. We passed a
field full of llamas who, apparently, spat at Forrest, this was just
before joining the lane that links Hennock with Bridford.
An
arrow had us running up this lane for 400 yards towards Hennock and
past a filed full of sheep and gambolling lambs. Just past this field
was another Walkers/Long & Shorts split at Middle Hole.
We
all elected to carry on past Higher Hole and Heckland to a T-junction.
An arrow guided us right, but only for 50 yards to a check. This had
been kicked-out straight on towards the Clampitt Plantation and Kennick
Reservoir.
Just
past Clampitt House was the last of the Long/Short splits. It was
8.35pm and just beginning to get dipsey. Pork Torpedo asked how far the
Longs was. "About a mile and a half longer than the Shorts but a
straightforward run", answered the co-hare. Pork Torpedo and Horny
courageously opted for the Long. Excellent. A reticent Piddler was left
with the choice of a lonesome run on the Shorts or do the Longs. Pork
Torpedo agreed that we should stick together as a group and so the
Famous Four sallied forth to engage with the final Long.
This
took us first straight and then right past the piggery. We were on
main paths and heading towards the reservoir. At our nearest point to
the reservoir, a kicked-out check had us running up the last hill of
the evening. Thank goodness. This took us across the Laployd Plantation
heading for the Beacon Plantation; these are all fir tree plantations.
Just as the hill levelled off, we came to the penultimate check. It
was then right and along a trail that leads to the edge of the
plantation above an escarpment with lovely views across the fields.
Horny commented, "Not a man-made structure in sight, lovely". She was
right.
A
little further we came to a large rock that had been eroded away at
its base. This could provide shelter in the event of a downpour. It
also had the letters "PR" written next to it in sawdust. What has
Forrest been up to now? Apparently, when Pisswell had first seen this
rock many years ago she asked Forest about its name. Forrest didn't
know its name so he notionally named it, "Pisswells Rock". Hence the
PR.
A
little further on, we came to the last check - kicked-out of course.
Another 300 yards and an arrow directed us left. We had joined up with
the Shorts. Unsurprisingly, no Shorts in sight. It was distinctively
dipsey now so time for the torches. However, Horney and Piddler had no
form of illumination. That wasn't really a problem. Man-Pig and Pork
Torpedo had torches and it was a simple 3/4 mile straight path back to
the pub. The only issue being tree roots for the first 300 yards. The
final leg back to the pub had us rejoin the Walkers' trail just above
Lower Hole. We all commented on how lovely the old granite house looked
at Lower Hole. At this point the footpath widens to a vehicular track
that is tarmac...... in places. At the bottom of the track we crossed
Rookery Brook. This is where the Hares had realised that they had far
too much sawdust left over. For, in front of us were two "OH" signs.
One was huge with a smily face.
The
last 200 yards took us up a slight incline, past the Old Rectory, and
back to the pub. It was 9.15pm and 5.9 miles on the clock. Well done to
Piddler, Pork Torpedo and Horny for keeping me company on the Longs. I
really had thought that I'd be doing it on my lonesome.
And
a well done to Forrest. Another excellent trail as many had commented
on in the pub. Well up to your usual very high standards.
The Down-Downs
Back
in the pub Dale (or is that Darren?), the Landlord, had saved some
scoff for latecomers. Sausage and chips at £5 a head. It was a tad late
so it was pretty much straight into the Down-Downs. Forrest tossed a
coin to decide who would be RA for the evening. Forrest won....or should
that be lost?
The
first award of the evening was lost property. Shitfaced had found a
pair of glasses in the pub car park. These proved to be Forrest
Stump's. Fortunately, we had the Teign Valley songmeister with us for
the evening. Accordingly, Pork Torpedo led the down-downs with:
"He doesn't kiss the girls anymore.
He likes them short and hairy.
Whoops he's a fairy"....down, down, down etc.
Next
up was Forrest himself. This time looking someone deserving of the
Baby Bat Hat award. This went to Horny for alleged interminable
whingeing about the trail. After a bit of reticence, Pork Torpedo fired
up with a very fast ditty. Something about barrels and
orrifices.....splendid!
Next
it was Man-Pig's turn to find a suitable recipient for the substitute
Jester's Hat. There then followed an exhaustive investigation into who
had been the first of the FRB's to ignore the fishhook. The suspects
comprised Wet-Johnny, Warmfront and Pollyfella. What followed was an
awful lot of finger pointing which ultimately lead the Pig to award the
hat to Wood-Lend. I'm afraid that I have no idea what song the
Songmeister came up with but it was short!
The
final award of the night was the other Jester's Hat. Wet-Johnny's
initial candidate had been Piddler for going to the Cridford Inn by
mistake - well, at least it wasn't Bradford! There followed a story
about using Google Maps to find the quickest route to Bridford from
Ipplepen. Having opted for the fastest route it wasn't long before they
found themselves crawling along the Teign Valley at a snail's pace.
This would be Warmfront on her bicycle holding everyone up. Once the
road straightened no cyclist could be seen. However, the lead car was
strangely familiar; a dark blue Mercedes SLK. This proved to be
Coldtits doing her best to save the planet be seeing if she could eke
out 40+mpg on the way to the pub. Coldtits was
driving....obviously....so elected to have water as a down-down. Again, I
cannot remember the down-down song. Suffice it to say that the
songmeister did us proud by treating us to a different song for every
down-down.
Coldtits
choice of water left a final half pint looking for an empty mouth.
Forrest put it to the floor to vote on. "Who should have the final
half? The Hare or the Co-hare?" The Co-hare was nominated and
dispatched the half in pretty swift order. Again, a different song from
the songmeister.
This
almost concluded the evening. Apart form another case of lost
property. Pisswell and her friend, Krystyna, were still out on trail and
Forrest was beginning to look worried. It was 10 o'clock and people
were leaving the pub. The pub was also scheduled to close at 10.30.
However, never fear. No hasher ever misses last orders. Sure enough,
Pisswell and Krystyna appeared at ten past ten....plenty of time to get
last orders.
Thankyou
to all who made the effort to come all the way out to Bridford,
especially Fallen Woman on the night before a 2 month extravaganza in
the camper van. That's dedication for you.
Next week
Station
Cafe, South Brent with Hare Man-Pig. Parking is just up the road at
the old railway station car park. The cafe was formerly the Oak Pub. It
has a good selection of bottled beers and usually does not do draught
ale. However, the landlord (ex-hasher) is putting on a pin (36 pints)
of Legend or Jail Ale especially for the hash. A hash menu is available
with a choice of vegetable chilli with tacos or mild chicken curry and
papadums for £6.
On-On to next week.
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