HEADLINE ACT: THE RETURN OF 'MAYHEM' MAVIS

Run #1929 Monday 8th August from Tucker's Malting Tap House, Newton Abbot

 

HARE: Arkangel

 

Who wuz there: Arkangel, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Forrest Stump, Wide Receiver, Ellie - pub only, Tamsin, Andy (Park Inn), Cheerio Beerio, Zoot, Hotlips, Warm Front, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Bobbiball, Dozy Parrot (non-runners), Coldtits, Ernie, Ablesemen, Bluebird, Melon-Picker, Soapy, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Edward - now Simba, Ellie - now Howzat!, Roger - now Roger the Dodger, Beefy, Pisswell, Fallen Woman, Zen Emptiness, Teapot, and a special guest returnee, Mavis, jetting in from Port Motueka, New Zealand.

And now, dispensing with the usual template so lovingly and precisely forwarded to the office boy by Man-Pig, I give you something very different and, you may agree, worth the wait - the words according to Mavis, translated loosely from Te Reo Māori:

 

The Pub Under Tuckers Maltings. Arch Angels run.

I arrived back after 3.5yrs of exploring the native in the South of the Hemisphere to the predicted and expected level of fanfare! Bunting was put out! Bugles played as I came towards the circle, the beautiful Harriettes swooned in my presence! 

 

It was wonderful to see Tea Pot! Although it took a moment to remind him of who I was, after repeating my name twice. 

 

It was awful and tragic to see Shit Faced had aged so much! Now needing a stick to walk with and a terrible, terrible limp!

 

The run set off, it’s just shocking and sad that due to Brexit, the price of flour has increased so considerably that barely any could be spared for the trail!! It was only due to one or two of the Harriets who have been around the town a bit who knew where to take me!

 

The trail was the usual 10miles or so which I, of course, returned from in such composure that even Prince Andrew agreed that he sweats more than me.

 

On in to the Pub where they had an amazing array of Beautifully [Māori sic} warm beers! I took it upon myself to start at one end of the bar and work my way to the other…

 

There were some down downs! Mine was taken appropriately upon the floor using the correct vessel. Sadly, Manpig, in his old age bless him, getting a little doddery, poured his pint down the back of my shorts!

 

There were some namings of some short people plus a record broken for the naming of a Hasher who managed to go unnamed for 15yrs!!! After the down downs, I continued my mission of completing the bar with a few of our most faithful and hardened men and woman.

Finally, the Bar staff threatened to call the Police if we didn’t leave… we took this as our cue to go home. The cycle home was pleasant and uneventful.

 

I woke the next day afresh at about 13.00, woken only from my slumber to spew up again. One of the villagers kindly dropped my father's bike home which was found in the lane not too far from the house. 

 

Later that day, I got a call from a very pleasant lady who had found my shorts and T-Shirt at Penn Inn roundabout! This is why it’s always advisable to have your name and number printed on the label on your clothes.

 

Overall a wonderful Hash and an absolutely perfect trail and on down to welcome my return home to my home hash! Thank you to everyone for such a warm welcome! I’ve run with a number of kennels now all over the world and Teignvalley, my original Hash, is still my favourite.

 

On on! Mavis x

 

ADDENDUM

A hard act to follow, but a few other snippets on a magnificent Mavis evening. 

 

Apart from the headline stealer, Forrest had to rescue his muttley who had performed a high dive into the canal in the closing stages of the trail and was unable to get back up the steep bank. In diving parlance: a failed high degree of difficulty.

 

My apologies tendered to Big End and Well Hopped for my antics - they probably realize that I don't get out very often.

 

Beefy had a scorching [sic] run, blazing round the trail and his usual extensions to make eight miles in an excellent time.

 

Missing out on the first long split and careering through the first check, (sorry, Big End) as well as taking various liberties, I was taken aback when Warm Front loomed large in the rear view mirror. Thank goodness Archangel put in the last L/S split here and I saluted and collapsed.

 

Superb and scenic trail and Coldtits (fantastic effort) and I managed to squeeze five miles from the trail menu. 

 

Well worthwhile your efforts laying it on a savagely hot afternoon, Archangel. I tip my hat to you sir.

 

The pub was special, a great atmosphere and good to see Wide Receiver and Ellie who both dropped by for a drink.

 

Well done Mavis on surviving the evening!

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

We thanked the pub for the beer.

 

Man-Pig gave the (returned) Hash shit shirt to Forrest Stump for trying to force Warmfront and her bicycle off the road. Par for the course we thought.

 

Arkangel presented the Viking horned hat to Able Semen for buying Shitfaced a drink without any money. A harriet through and through.

 

Bluebird (under forceful direction from the RA) naturally awarded the Teapot special hat to Mayhem Mavis who proceeded with his speciality at ground level. To this day, no one else has ever managed to achieve the Mavis manouevre .

 

The short people were next up and Big End's daughter, Ellie, was, after due deliberation and input, named Howzat due to her love of sport, especially cricket.

 

Well Hopped son named Simba after the Lions on the England football strip. Two fine hash handles indeed, well done to the panel of adjudicators.

 

Dad, Roger (Well Hopped), has been coming hashing on and off for 15 years but had dodged being named but tonight the hash finally caught up with him - henceforth, Roger the Dodger!

 

NEXT WEEK

The Claycutters, Chudleigh Knighton with Hares Zoot and Hotlips. Please try not to use the pub car park as it will be jolly busy!

 

On-On to next week.

MONDAY 8TH AUGUST MAP

 

ONLY HERE FOR THE BEER GOING TOO FAST & A WATCH THAT DID NOT TELL THE TIME

Run #1928 Monday 1st August from the King George IV at Totnes

HARES: Wet Johnny, Erection & Manopause

 

Who wuz there: Wet Johnny, Manopause, Erection, U-Bend, Man-Pig, Arkangel, Cheerio Beerio, Only Here for the Beer, Mark (virgin), Mateus Rose, Twiggy, Rise 'n' Shine, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie (pub only?), Coldtits, Slip-on-Me, Strap-On, Strap-Dancer, Ernie, Ablesemen, Wetfart, Bluebird, Melon-Picker, Soapy, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Beefy, Zen Emptiness.

 

THE CIRCLE

In the absence of Shitfaced, U-Bend took on the role of GM and welcomed all into the Circle.

There was only one announcement. Ablesemen informed the Hash that Satnav had had a fall and, I think, broken her wrist. We all wish her a swift recovery. 

 

A virgin was in our midst - Mark who is Mateus Rose's husband. He was indoctrinated into the Circle in the time honoured fashion with a liberal dowsing of flour.The Hare, Wet- Johnny, gave brief detail about the trail. A Walkers', Shorts' and Longs' trail had been laid. The Shorts was about 3 miles. The Longs were not more than 6 miles; the Shorts were somewhere between the two.

 

THE TRAIL

The Bird led the pack down Fore Street before we turned right down a narrow, but pretty, ginnel called Bank Street. An arrow took us right and to our first check. The Bird correctly checked out in the direction of St Katherine's Way and the Walkers' / Long-Short split. The Walkers turned left down St Katherine's way whilst the Shorts and the Longs turned right, up St Katherine's Way, and then left into the Carrions. Steps took us up to a grass pathway and a check. Man-Pig checked downhill - BONG! wrong. 

 

The Bird continued up to Maudlin Road and an arrow had us heading up Maudlin Street towards Leechwell Street. At the junction with Kingsbridge Hill was another check. Big End checked downhill. The Bird uphill with Beefy and Man-Pig in pursuit. And so it proved to be. A slog up Kingbridge Hill to its junction with the Western Bypass. The dots continued uphill to a check at the end of Fishchowters Lane. Beefy continued up the Western Bypass. The Pig checked down Fishchowters Lane....1 dot, 2 dots, 3 dots. ON ON. We were now on part of a Wet-Johnny trail that he'd set for the Longs before Christmas. 

 

Another check had the Pig carry straight on only to find a cross.The trail remained on Fishcowters Lane down to where it meets Maudlin Road. An arrow took us right and to a check at the bottom of Totnes Down Hill. Beefy checked up the hill. Bluebird lingered at the check. Man-Pig continued down Moat Hill and found an arrow. We were now on the John Musgrove Heritage trail heading towards Sharpham Barton and re-running part of a previous Bluebird trail from about 18 months ago.

 

Soon we begin to catch the Walkers. First Wetfart on his own. Then Only Here for the Beer, our Virgin Mark, Twiggy, Rise 'n' Shine, and Mateus Rose. Quite a long way in front of them was Strap-Dancer doing really well. At the Walkers split, we caught a glimpse of Georgy Porgy and Piltdown Man heading downhill across a steep meadow towards the Dart. The beautiful views here reminded us of how lucky we are to live here. Beefy was happily snapping away.

 

The Pig pushed on and caught up with first Coldtits and then Arkangel and Cheerio Beerio just before the second Long-Short split. The Shorts dropped down to the banks of the dart and the Longs embarked on the half-mile loop up to the edge of Higher Gribble Plantation. Just before a stile and a mini cattle grid a final check....not kicked out. A check uphill revealed a cross so it was back to the check to kick it out downhill to where a group of canoeists had gathered.

Back on the reverse trail. First, it was a wide track until we rejoined the outward trail for 100 metres before turning right and joining the Shorts. 

 

Initially, the trail took us along the edge of open fields, on the banks of the Dart, and heading back towards Totnes. We passed OHFB, Mark, Mateus, Twiggy, and Rise 'n' Shine for the second time. Then we were into woodland where we met up with Zen joining from the Walkers' trail. Erection and Manopause weren't that far ahead. Then for the second time, we passed Strap-Dancer. Surprisingly we didn't pass Wetfart or Coldtits again; maybe Coldtits was on the Longs? The other Longs would be behind. These comprised Ernie, Well Hopped, Big End, and, so it was rumoured, Arkangel and Cheerio Beerio. But no sign of Strap-On. He, too, must have been on the Long.

 

We entered Totnes on Baltic Way and followed St Peter's Quay and New Walk, past the Steam Packet, onto the Plains where the On Home directed us back up Fore Street. 

 

The Happy Snapper, Beefy, caught up and insisted on a run to the pub and three times around the car park to reach his 6 miles.

 

It had been hot and humid but beautiful. Another Wet-Johnny success - ably assisted by Erection and Manopause. However, Manopause caveated his input on trail. "If it goes well I am a co-hare. if it's shite, it was nothing to do with me!"

 

BIRDSCRIPT or semi-coherent recollections of the evening

 

PROLOGUE

Delayed by an off-course very large campervan that had strayed onto the narrow Claddon Lane near me. Four cars, including mine silver chariot, had to reverse several hundred yards to allow passage. I was going to be late for a most important date...

 

Another late hashing chariot drew up behind me by the Wolborough Inn traffic lights. Peeking through the rearview mirror, I was fairly sure it was Piltdown and Georgy. We had ourselves a mini Convoy (1978). 'Breaker, breaker, Rubber Duck,' squawked the Bird.

 

At 7:25, Piltdown slewed his orange chariot under the Victoria Street car park gantry while the Bird undershot and, snarling with rage, had to reverse back.

 

The desperate trio and muttley made a run for the pub and, Shirley enough, the hash was still there. Howling hallelujahs!

 

TRAIL TALES

Through a gloomy ginnel, we fled in search of glory with the promise of a golden brew to come.

 

Motley were the FRB's, no Warm Front, Pollyfella to spearhead the assault and find the trail tonight.

 

Man-Pig was more than slightly the worse for wear after Roman marching (with many a refuelling stop) eighteen miles at the weekend; Big End was still recovering from injury; Ernie would be inconvenienced by pulling his milk cart up the hills; the Bird was on impulse power after injuries to his injury, and Beefy was in tourist cum happy snapper mode.

 

It was fortunate indeed that the Bird was hatless as, after an initial triumph, he got cocky [sic you fools] and the battle cry echoed down to the Plains from on high: 'I'll eat my hat if it's down there!'

 

Devious were the hares and a convoluted passage unfolded before the inevitable tour of the scenic south side of the River Dart.

 

MENTIONED IN DESPATCHES

Wetfart encountered returning from whatever trail variant he had chosen - how he had got that far so quickly was somewhat mysterious.

 

Strap Dancer on a mission and scorning the ambling knots of sightseers.

 

Giving Able a shock when passing at a gateway.

 

Asked for the time by Archangel and Cheerio and perplexingly finding that the option was not possible on a Garmin Forerunner 30 whilst in operational mode.

 

Encountering the second L/S split and deciding it wasn't going to do me any good and saluting the valiant Big End, Well Hopped, Archangel, and Cheerio who were made of sterner stuff.

 

Discovering from Erection that he and Manopause had been press-ganged into haring by WJ.

 

Coldtits deciding that a shortcut up a steep gully was not worth the fifteen yards gained.

 

Meeting up with the sightseers once more and overhearing Slip on Me's plaintive wail: 'You're going too fast, Only Here for the Beer (striding out for the beer), we can't keep up!' On seeing the Bird swoop, muttering: 'But perhaps Bluebird can...'

 

In the same group, the horror of seeing clouds of smoke emanating from virgin Mark.

 

About to descend onto Baltic Wharf and there she was yet again - the Strap still purposefully Dancing - whoa!

 

Changing in the car park and Man-Pig greeting me with a 'You SCB!' Fair play, MP but It Ain't Half Hot Mum.

 

Finally, Beefy making a few laps of the CP to record the full six miles.

 

Thank you, Wet Johnny, Manopause, and Erection.

 

Goodbye, that's all he wrote.

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

Yet again returned awards were thin on the ground. However, Man-Pig had Warm Front's award from last week and Bluebird had the Viking hat from a previous Hash.

 

First, we thanked the pub for the beer. Rob, the landlord, has always looked after the hash - including when he was running the Dartmouth Inn. Thank you, Rob.Were there any stories? 

 

Arkangel came up with one. He'd asked Bluebird what the time was. Bluebird looked at his wrist computer/Garmin wizardry and said, "It's a computer. It doesn't tell the time". What sort of computer is that? And this from the man who runs the Hash Facebook page? A note for, "He'stupid. He's stupid. He's so damn dumb if his mother hadn't been there he'd be a lump of cum". This height of techno ludditeism was justly rewarded with a glass of water.

 

Any more stories? Almost inevitably something had to come up from the weekend's Isca Roman Away Day. 

 

Melonpicker recited the sorry tale of he who gambled and lost. A bottle of malt whiskey was literally within a hasher's grasp. But he couldn't see it as it was in a box. Did he want to stick or swap?

 

Swap he did only to see Buzby open the swapped box to a smile and a smirk. "So what's in my box? A bloody bag of flour!" A note for the gambling Man-Pig who, at least will literally be eating cake for the next week!

 

Our virgin Mark was next up for a Down-Down. A note for the "Virgin Vapour" despite protestations that it was a proper fag and not a vape. Zen stating that this would be a fine hash handle.

 

Plenty of beer left, so a Down-Down for the Hare, Wet-Johnny. He was driving, so had a water whilst a delighted Manopause dispatched the beer in pretty short order.

 

One beer left. There was a birthday girl amongst us but only one person knew who it was, and it was not a Hasher. Smellie's friend Jane was in the pub having a quiet (well, quiet until we turned up) drink. 

 

She didn't want to come front and centre but was delighted to accept the final half of Proper Job and thanked the Hash. We, nevertheless, sang all the right notes in the wrong order.

 

Now it's goodbye from me and goodbye from Man-Pig.

 

NEXT WEEK

The Tap House, Tuckers Maltings, Newton Abbot. Hare - Arkangel.

 

ON ON to next week

RAMBO'S BIRTHDAY HASH AND OF SWALLOWS, SWIFTS, AND HOUSEMARTINS

Run #1927 Monday 25th July from Ashcombe Cross junction

OD The Ship Inn, Chudleigh

 

HARES: Piltdown Man & Georgie Porgy

 

Who wuz there: Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Smellie, Coldtits, Slip-on-Me, Rambo, Strap-On, Ernie, Wetfart, Teapot, Piddler, Bluebird, Bobbiball (pub only), Warm Front, U-Bend, Melon-Picker, Soapy, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Polyfella, Wet Johnny, Manopause, Pisswell, Buzby, Screech, Emperor Ming, Dobi and several other visitors from Isca and Otter Hashes who had turned up for Rambo's 69th birthday hash - thank you all for cumming.

 

THE CIRCLE

Determined not to let the venue deter anyone, Georgy Porgy, resplendent in hi-viz yellow, perched at the edge of the A380 on traffic warden duty. The Forestry Commission access road can comfortably accept 20 cars without impeding emergency access. However, as the car numbers ramped up, so did competition for spaces. Wetfart was the first to park elsewhere. As he later said, "At least I'm closer to the pub". But, perhaps, not as close as Coldtits. She had found a space about a third of the way along the trail!

 

With so many new faces, Shitfaced did not know if he was welcoming Teign Valley Hash or Haldon Hash. I don't think that there was anyone there from Haldon H3. Our visitors were from either Isca or Otter Valley hashes and had made the journey especially to run with Rambo on the day after his very special birthday. I wonder what that would be? There were no announcements so over to the Hares.

 

Things did not start well. There was a plea from the Hares, "Has anyone got any flour?" Crumbs, was there a trail to follow? Had it been laid in stones? No. George Porgy simply wanted to put an early arrow in for latecomers. The trail had been laid in full but they'd run out of flour at the very end. Returnee, Bluebird, came to the rescue with a half bag of Homepride's finest.

 

Georgy and Piltdown explained that there was a Walkers', Shorts', and Longs' trail - approximately 2, 3, and 5 miles. The Walkers' was partially unmarked and was substantially on road. "Just keep walking. You can't go wrong". Additionally, there were some frisky Jersey or Guernsey's calves in a field and there would be a Pimms stop.

 

THE TRAIL

It is said that the English language is quite difficult for foreigners to learn. I have to sympathise. Consider the following idiosyncrasies of the English language. A man waits a whole lifetime for a virgin to come along. Then, all of a sudden, two come along at once. Perplexingly, both virgins have been well laid - and on consecutive weeks. To cap it all, over 30 people claimed to have conquered the virgins and are now completely f****d. What on earth was going on?

 

Amazingly, for the second week running, we were on pretty much all virgin territory for TVH3 courtesy of Georgy Porgy and Piltdown Man. What a pleasant and unexpected surprise, especially so close to home.

 

So, where did we go? The Walkers, Shorts, and Longs all set off on one of the main tracks that run close to the southern boundary of Haldon Forest. After a couple of checks, the trail exited onto a narrow lane near Beggar's Bush.

 

At the first junction, the Walkers went right and embarked on a straight line to the Pimms stop. The Longs and the Shorts went left for a short while before arriving at a crossroads where two arrows guided us right and right again along an ancient track that was now a public footpath.

After about a kilometre, we came to the Long/Short split. Melonpicker was umming and erring which trail to take as was U-bend. Eventually, U-Bend went Long and Melonpicker went Short.

 

The Shorts' was a fairly straightforward trail to the Pimms stop. They continued due north along the footpath at the end of which they turned right and continued up through Waddon Brakes.

 

The Longs' took the western branch of the footpath and headed towards Chudleigh. A poor piece of checking early on had me at the back of the pack but it wasn't long before I caught up with Piddler, then Pork Torpedo, Horny and Smellie, and then - a roadblock. Some excitable calves had blocked the path. Walking slowly towards them, they eventually cleared the path and congregated around their barn. All except one, who, for some reason, remained on the track. It didn't seem shy at all and even licked the back of my hand - no doubt after the salt in my sweat.

 

At the end of the footpath, a check had been kicked out to the left. We ran downhill through the tiny hamlet of Waddon (about 5 houses). Another kicked-out check at Waddon Barton had me catching up with Strap-On as we headed for Brimley Corner and another kicked-out check.

We were now heading for Hams Barton where I encountered Pisswell. An arrow took us into a beautiful field of corn and the opportunity for a rest on a bench (kindly marked as such by the hares) beneath a young oak tree.

 

However, rest was not on the agenda. There was a Pimms stop to get to. The footpath crossed a second field, recently cut, before exiting onto a lane in front of Lower Upcott farm. A sharp left and up to Kerswell Cross. A sharp right and the steep climb to Kerswell House where I caught up with Manopause. Shortly thereafter, I came across Dobbie who had just checked out a false trail.

 

The correct trail took us down a track that rejoined the public highway system at Mistletoe Farm. Here we caught up with Bluebird who was apologising to farmers if we had disturbed their cattle.

 

Then the climb. Oh, what a climb to get to the Pimms stop but well worth the effort. The Walkers and the Shorts were already there along with the FRB's, Polyfella, and Warm Front.

The Pimms was excellent, embellished with fresh fruit - yum yum. Piltdown was concerned about Smellie's whereabouts as we thought she might have been at the back of the Longs. In fact, we had quite a few Longs to wait for; Manopause, Pisswell, Smellie, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Piddler, and, finally, U-Bend arrived. All accounted for. The final 3/4 mile was fairly straightforward and, apart from one left turn, was a straight run back to the Forestry Commission access road.

 

Beautiful views and new territory with a quality Pimms stop to boot. Well done Hares.

 

We have not finished with you yet, so get a cuppa and we will continue with:

 

FARMER SCROGGINS & A PINK GIRAFFE

The Bird was Stir Crazy (1980) and desperate to escape the log cabin in the combe. A brief excursion down the road to ye olde taverne had resulted in a charge of riotous affray when he threw his beer - oh dear - at a local.

 

I gotta get out of this place!
If it's the last thing I ever do… (apologies to Eric)

 

The Ashcombe junction was just in range via Shaldon Bridge and oh, what a gay day, the Bird sallied forth in his silver Chariot of the Gods (Paperback: Erich von Daniken).

 

The massed ranks of an Otter and Isca raiding party arrived to aptly Support Your Local Sheriff! (1969) on his attainment of the magic hashing number.

 

Lean and mean looked the Otter boys and the Bird's eyes narrowed, anticipating a right royal burn-up.

 

Pleasantries dispensed with, the triple hash set off in search of what were to be pastures new and eventually High Anxiety (1977) for some for their encounter with that mighty herd of red-eyed cows...

 

But first, there was a jolly maze of forest paths to navigate. The hares had been liberal with the opening checks and the FRB's were thwarted in their collective endeavours to escape the pack. Warm Front appeared, crashing through dense undergrowth from hard a starboard and Man-Pig was intent on exploring highly dubious paths into dense foliage.

 

An Otter FRB found the escape route onto terra tarmac and the game was Shirley at least a foot long. ON ON, you wally brains!

 

I was pleased and not a little surprised that I could actually stay in the game early doors and it was only later that I discovered that the trail was a game of two halves: Two and a half miles down and most unfortunately - two and a half miles up... sigh.

 

Back to the action and two or three Otter FRB's had fled the scene and the Bird was causing a tailback in a narrow lane as other speedsters queued up to pass. And pass they did, a flying machine with a tiny muttley in tow; a pink giraffe; a green striped zebra, and other assorted blurs.

 

Manopause was on a good one and on we surged.

 

We heard the sound of hooves first and then, moments later, the mighty herd of Jersey cows - as forewarned by Piltdown - stampeded across the path in front of us in a huge cloud of dust - Yeehah!

 

Manopause had a deja vu moment - he had been in an identical situation on a previous hash - and stood stock [sic Ha!] still until the herd finally stopped Rollin' rollin' rollin'. No? well please yourselves then.

 

Many an adventure ensued, Piltdown cruised alongside in his orange chariot, mildly surprised that the Bird was still going, Warm Front and Pollyfella were glimpsed from time to time and Manopause kept trucking. The checks were cunningly placed and kept the FRB's within eyesight. 

 

Coursing through a bleached meadow, a flour inscribed 'REST' was espied in front of a bench. Shamefully do I admit that I actually considered the invitation but Manopause was still in close attendance and I was a man, Betty, and struggled onwards.

 

Beyond the seat of eternal rest, a knot of Otters paused at a check awaiting info from Warm Front and Pollyfella.

 

Cards marked, orf we jolly well went. Young Dobbie was kept entertained by tales of yore and patiently did he endure.

 

And there, around a bend, Farmer Scroggins was standing by his farm gate and he wasn't smiling. 'Arrr, have ye all stopped yer shoutin' yet?' 'Oh hello, Farmer Scroggins, nice evening isn't it?' replied the twittering one. 'I'm terribly sorry about that and yes, I think they'll be quieter now.' coo-ed the featherless one.

 

'By the way, are they Guernsey's or Jersey's?' 'They be Jersey's, arrrrrrr!' 'How do you tell the difference?' 'Arrrrrr, Guernsey's have a pinker nose, arrrrr.'

'Thank you kindly, Farmer Scroggins, and once more, sincere apologies for the noise.'

'Arrrrrr, they be dairy, arrrrrrrr!' And with that, Dobbie and the Bird took their leave of Farmer Scroggins ... Arrrrrr!

 

The Wong Wei Man-Pig had finally caught up and the trio commenced the climb to the Pimms. Oh my, it wasn't that steep but it was a good mile and over three hundred feet of ascent.

 

Man-Pig insisted on showing us who was the boss and ran the whole flipping lot. Young Dobbie (67) and the Bird (89) played the walk a hundred, jog a hundred game though Dobbie's jog was quicker than the Bird's and he wasn't best pleased at being dropped by the two youngsters.

 

Goblets, tankards and beakers were laid out at the Pimms stop and being pretty nigh spent, it was pleasant to tarry with the throng, especially as the pub was not an option.

 

Thank you, Piltdown and Georgy for a fine trail indeedy and it was glorious to be able to participate on the long once more - touch wood it's not famous last words.

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

The Ship Inn does not do food so some Hashers had gone to the Co-Op to get scoff. Others had planned ahead and brought their food to the pub. Rambo, as promised, arrived with a birthday cake which was distributed to all and sundry.

 

Man-Pig welcomed all to the On-Down for run no. 1927, especially our visitors from Isca and Otter Hashes.

 

First up to dish out a notional award was last week's Pondlife - Coldtits. Confusion abounded about last week's nomination so Coldtits ended up drinking the half pint of water herself.

Next up was the dyslexic Smellie. Again no tangible award to hand out so just a story. After some thinking, Smellie awarded her down-down to Piddler for poor parking. A note for the "Poor parker".

 

Piltdown discreetly reminded the RA at this juncture that the Songmeister was present. Next up were the joint birthday boys and girls, Rambo and Coldtits. However, Coldtits was not giving anything away about her birthday; just saying that it was close to her sister's and they were a year apart.....hmmm. The Songmeister comes up with "Old McDonald had terrets" instead of the usual birthday cacophony.

 

Two halves left. Surely to the Hares? But wait. George Porgy doesn't like beer and Slip-on-Me actually has an award from a fortnight ago! Slip-on-Me awards the horned hat to Warm Front for getting her back on trail whilst Piltdown Man gets the last half pint for a trail well laid.

 

NEXT WEEK

King William IV, Totnes with Hare, Wet Johnny.

 

Oh. Were you wondering what the reference to swallows, swifts, and housemartins was all about? I walked to the pub with a couple of Otter Valley hashers (apologies, I do not know your names).

 

There is an alleyway between the car park and the main road through Chudleigh. We've all been through it many times. However, I have never noticed grey nesting boxes attached to the gable end of one of the buildings. A peculiar design of nesting box as the access is from underneath. These are specifically for swifts. And, sure enough, as we looked up approximately 20 swifts were flying above us. 

 

There ensued a conversation about the differences between swifts, swallows, and housemartins. Apparently, the parents take their offspring on several aerial familiarisation flights in the vicinity of their nests before they migrate south for the winter. This ensures that the offspring return to the same nests that they were born in the following summer. Amazing!

 

On-On to next week.

Monday 25 July map

 

TVH3 The Words for 18th July 2022

Locks Cross, Ponsworthy, Dartmoor

On-Down The Rugglestone

 

Run No. 1926

 

HARE: Pisswell

 

Who wuz there: Pisswell, Beefy, Man-Pig, Cheerio-Beerio, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Coldtits, Slip-on-Me, Rambo, Well Hopped, Big End, Strap-On, Strap-Dancer, Ernie, Wetfart, Teapot.

 

The Circle

The car park at Locks cross is small. However, we all managed to cram in - except Ernie who decided to park on a grassy knoll opposite. Despite the sound of gunfire nearby, we were reasonably confident that it wasn't Lee Harvey Oswald creating all the noise.

 

Piltdown Man found a horse wearing a burka and Shitfaced was absent, allegedly due to a migraine. Hence Piltdown Man took over the Grand Master's duties for the evening. It was very brief. "Thank you for turning up".

 

Rambo had an announcement about needing hares for three Mondays in September. Then it was over to the Hare, Pisswell. There were three trails, Walkers, Shorts, and Longs. "The marks may not be very clear in bracken (they were) so head for the obvious viewpoint if you lose the trail". Additionally, "There is a bailer in one field and it's difficult to lay flour on hay. Follow the footpath".

 

The Trail by hare Pisswell

 

Tune by the Worzels, “Where be that blackbird to?”

Lyrics by hare, for a bit of Dartmoor dialect!

============================

Where be that car park to?

I know where it be.

Just be up that gurt big ‘ill

Up out of Ponsworthy

Neath Corndon tor

Up on the moor

We’ll circle and I’ll tell you

It’s 5 the long, that’s definite

All others, choice of two

Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna

Where’s the down down?

The Rugg!

Where are we gwain to?

Most went down the hill

Longs and co across the moor

For views just take your fill

Theyre off to Primms

No more lived in

Then down the lane to Sweaton

They baled my marks into the hay

But no one was beaten!

Dunna Dunna Dunna Donna Dunna Dunna

Make your choice at The Splash

Some followed back the longs

Some the two moors way

Under the ladder there

Unlucky there today!

Was Coldtits gone?

We carried on

Whilst Beefy went to find her

She’s having fun, forgot to run,

Par-ty down by the river!

Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna

Ov-er the bridge to Jordan

At the writing on the wall

Choice on to Shallowford

Or a short towards the left

Shortcut to Corndonford

A solo trek across the bog

Was taken on by Smellie

All dry now, it’s been so hot

No need for wellies!

Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna

Wildlife resue Coldtits!

One more last split to go

A viewpoint for the longs

Up through Higher Foxworthy

But easy to go wrong!

Virgin ground, beat bracken down

To help them all with wending

There way up top to Corndon tor

Not lost, happy ending!

Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna

Back to Ruggle

We’re done!

Who may have gathered there?

I know who they be

Pisswell, Beefy, Ernie too Teapot and Slip on me. Manpig,

Piltdown, Wet Farts around Smellie, Georgie Porgie Coldtits, Strap on, Strap dancer too

Well hopped and Big End

Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna

Cheerio Beerio Rambo

Who got the down downs down?

I know who they be

For the hare and Beefy too

For Sweeping round for me

Big End had one, though what he done

Was just not driving Well Hopped

But Smellie’s letter upside down

“Medium” was well copped!

Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna Dunna

Hottest day yet

 

Well done x

 

The Trail by Man-Pig

Well, what can I say about the trail? Part three of Pisswell's Dartmoor Trilogy 2022 exceeded the incredibly high standard already set over the previous 1twelve months or so. I think it would be best to let the photos tell the story of the trail. It was beautiful and virgin territory from start to finish.

 

The Walkers and the Shorts headed downhill into Ponsworthy whilst the Longs headed uphill along the edge of Sherberton Common. After about 200 yards the trail took us off-road and left past the only house on the common. A tiny, isolated shed really with very little land. It had, nevertheless, just sold at auction for a staggering £601k. Beefy and I agreed that the price must include £451k for the views (see photos).

 

We rejoined road and headed southeast for about 300 yards before a mark had us entering the recently cut field followed by a second field where the hay had already been baled. Ernie took the opportunity of having a hash slash behind a bale whilst the rest of us entered a dark and ancient walled track that took us back to the edge of Ponsworthy.

 

At this point, we came across the walkers coming in the other direction. Pisswell had connived a plan as cunning as anything dreamt up by Blackadder. The Longs' early loop was also the Walkers' trail but in reverse.

 

At the end of the track, we hit tarmac again and dropped into the southern end of Ponsworthy. At the "splash" (ford) we joined up with the Shorts' trail and it wasn't long before we caught up with Rambo and Strap-Dancer. This part of the trail is incredibly picturesque as it runs 

northwards following Two Moors Way along the banks of the west Webburn River. We caught up with the Shorts and Pisswell at Jordan Mill Cottage just after crossing the bridge. Jordan Mill Cottage is a quintessentially beautiful thatched Devon cottage; a lot of ooooohs and ahhhhs when we passed that one (hopefully someone has a photo of it).

 

At Jordan, we followed an uphill track that arced around to East Shallowford. Halfway around the arc, we came to a Long/Short split. The shorts went due east and uphill towards Corndon Ford Farm. The Longs embarked on a loop around to East Shallowford then uphill and left eventually rejoining the Shorts near Corndon Ford Farm. The Longs had kept pretty tight up to this point and comprised Man-Pig, Well-Hopped, Big End, Strap-On, and Ernie with Beefy sweeping.

 

A check had Man-Pig on a fool's errand whilst everyone else headed, correctly, for Foxworthy.

Here we came to the final Long/Short split. The cars were within sniffing distance so Strap-On made a bee-line for the car park. The others followed the Longs' trail up to the top of Corndon Tor at 1396 feet above sea level where we were blessed with the most spectacular of views. A brief photo op as the sun set behind us before beefy guided us off the Tor and back to the car park.

 

5.36 thoroughly enjoyable miles. Thank you, Pisswell. A fantastic trail, very well laid, and virgin territory to boot. Just brilliant!

 

The Down-Downs

The Walkers had got back to the pub well before the Longs. Teapot had already gone home. Wetfart was just finishing his beer. Beefy was running back o the pub via his house for a quick shower and Cheerio-Beerio never made it back to the pub.

 

Pisswell was waiting for Rambo back at the car park whilst he was taking photos. hence the Down-Downs didn't commence until 9.45. There was also some confusion regarding a tray containing two untouched pints of beer and a pint of water. Had teapot got the Down-Downs in and then left? Apparently not. They were a cancelled order from a Dutch couple who thought that the beer was too warm!

 

Pisswell arranged the Down-Down drinks and it was over to Man-Pig to RA for the evening. there were only nine of us left and none of those present had awards from two weeks previously. Hence the first two halves went to the Hares for another excellent Dartmoor trail.

With no hats to award, Man-Pig put Smellie on the spot as she had had a down-down two weeks ago as one of the three best-themed costumes on from our Fourth of July hash. 

 

Eventually, Smellie came up with a story about someone on trail describing her pond life, in particular, dragonflies. This was Coldtits. However, Coldtits was driving so nominated Big End to have her half. A note for "Pondlife".

 

Were there any stories on trail? Strap-On came to the rescue with a story about a hasher who, on returning to the car park, saw an "M" on the ground written in flour. "Oh. Pisswell's also laid a medium trail!". Errrrm. Well, no. It's actually the Walker's outward trail upside down. Accordingly, a note for Smellie as the "dyslexic one".

 

Next week

Ashcombe Cross junction on the A380 - Forestry Commission access road; Hare is Piltdown Man no doubt aided by Georgy Porgy. The On-down is tentatively earmarked as the Ship Inn, Chudleigh - details to be confirmed on Facebook.

 

On-On to next week. Man-Pig