Trail 1816 from The Church House Inn at Marldon

 Plenty of rain around but also some refreshing Drinks on route
Satnav who mistook the love heart on this Pillock shirt for a rude symbol?

Piltdown Man...a man to be looked up to! for causing confusion on the Longs trail !

                            

PILTDOWN'S YELLOW SUBMARINE, HE'S THE 'LEDER' & KISS ME QUICK AT THE KISS GATE

Run #1816 Monday 14th October from the Church House Inn at Marldon with Piltdown & Georgy

 

A feeling of impending doom lay heavy upon mine soul. This hash, for me at least, would be a test of survival, Oh Dearly About to be Stretchered Off...

 

The TVH Watersports club were in business yet again at muddy Marldon and the hares' despair [sic] continues Oh Dearly Lovers of Mud..

 

Piltdown set off at 4pm and was upbeat re the underfoot conditions: 'It was mild and there was only a spell of heavy drizzle on the lay..' but then, have you ever known Piltdown to be downcast?

 

Chariot congestion cometh the death as hashers sought a space in the lanes, oblivious to the fact that the Church House's CP could take many more chariots - the packed council pay car park in front deceiving some.

 

Tricky getting numbers as most heavily hooded and rain-jacketed - Teapot calling thirty three but at least forty at the circle, leaving Teapot scratching his head.

I can only list thirty eight as follows:

 

Teapot, GM Shitfaced, Winfield, Piltdown, Georgy, 69, Avatar, GaGa4It, Pisswell, Big End, Well Hopped, Soapy, Melon Picker, SatNav, 3Sum, Hotlips, Zoot, 'Leder' Polyfella, Fukarwi, Beefy, Hornie, Pork Torpedo, Rambo, Doris, Only Here, Erection, BroadS, SM Ellie, Manpig, Artful Dogger, BB, Wigwam, Able, Fishbait, Small Fry, Zorro, Fallen Woman, Teararse  Not sure if they ran but Slip on Me and Archangel were at the pub.

 

Late indeed was the circle after the chariot chaos and fidgety were the longs who, shades of Mark Antony, were anxious to 'let slip the dogs of war'...

 

The shorts and walkers headed for Church Hill while the longs were directed through the council CP and around a silly soddy [sic] lap of the community park. Exiting the 'how could we have fallen for that old trick again' field and there was the Grand Puppeteer gleefully pulling our strings - we would be seeing a lot more of him soon - how soon? Very soon...sigh.

 

Whilst the shorts and walkers were rural bound, for the longs an urban jungle network of alleyways  unfolded with many a check designed to keep the pack together - anathema for the FRBs.  The old firm of Manpig, Fukarwi and the Bat were joined by a strong-running Erection and all was going swimmingly [sic] until things went awry.  

 

A stile was negotiated - and, unless there's a check, cross or arrow you keep straight on being the rough trail rule.  Across the field, over a fixed gate (under for me as by now virtually crippled) and - not a sausage - or mark.

 

Manpig's not the sort of hasher to give up easily and with teeth gritted he sallied into the darkness. Eventually, we had to call him back from what was clearly a muddy and sticky wicket. As we turned, a horrible sight met our anguished eyes - the longs had arrived in some strength. We had tarried too long, all was lost - including the trail.

 

Seldom have I seen so many hashers together halfway into the run and a glittering array of head torches were impressive indeed.

 

Pork was so pleased to see me he Torpedoed my already death-riddled body with many a jovial threat but there were (as always) a few comforting words from Hornie: 'He doesn't mean it BB' 'Oh yes I do!' sigh.

 

It nearly got hairy with the dairy herd encountered as we searched for clues and Beefy kept my spirits raised with our usual trail banter.

 

With so many searching, a way was finally found across the treacherous quagmire and I passed the time following Polyfella with - and please singalong with me Oh Lederhosen* Lovers Everywhere - and remember to pronounce it as 'laider' to get the full effect:

 

He's the leder, he's the leder, he's the leder of the gang, he is

He's the leder, he's the leder, well, there's no one like the hasher he is He can take you high as a kite every single night

You'd better believe it... No? Well...

 

At a farmyard junction the trail returned to its mysterious quality and shouts from all compass points came back to the faithful shiggy survivors.

 

A mocking cry of 'ON-ON!' echoed across the morass and then it was but a brief climb to Piltown's Yellow Submarine, seemingly beached at the edge of a newly formed road lake.

 

You can only have so much fun and I was earnestly looking for the exit. Piltdown indicated that we were only a half mile from the beer and I limped off, a Bat barely alive.

 

To my dismay, I saw some hashers turn off the road ahead - back onto the short trail!  After several calls of ON BACK! Erection reappeared but I didn't know that Big Ned**, little Ned and Well Hopped were also aways down the lane. But never mind, I was relieved to make it back under my own steam and not be rescu-ed..

 

Safe and snug in Ye Olde Church House, I heard tell of a 'Kiss Me quick at the Kiss Gate' game - which harriets were encouraged to play. I wonder who thought of that?

 

Such was my pain and discomfort mid-trail, I thought I was having a discussion with Well Hopped about running shoes but it transpired it was Pisswell - but  thanks Pisswell, it took my mind off things for a while.

 

After having a Naked Lady last week, I quite fancied a Wild Blonde IPA 4.4 abv and she didn't disappoint.  The cheesy chips  were tasty (thanks Winfield & Pisswell) if not a tad pricey at 4 1/2 sovs agogo but the staff were easy on the eye and friendly so what the heck - a nice venue to revisit once more.

 

Well done and thanks Piltdown and Georgy for another very muddy trail - if it had been a horse racing card, it would have been abandoned!

 

POSTSCRIPT

You were so right about what my injury was, Fukarwi, even before it happened on trail. Quite painful walking down the path on getting home Monday night but couldn't even walk Tuesday.

 

*Ask Polyfella when you see him next.

**An apt anagram

 

WINFIELD'S TRAIL MEMORIES

Drying out Memories! on Trail 1816 from The Church House Inn Marldon with Hares: Piltdown Man & Georgy P-Orgy.

Another wet Monday, but a great turnout in-spite of this! The pairs trail from a venue we had not visited for many moons, proved to be a wet,slippery and very muddy one in places. But on a damp evening, it was good to be out getting some exercise. My knee was still not up to running with the Longs, but with guidance from Satnav who knew the area well, along with Mellon Picker, we tripped and staggered our way across fields along the J Musgrave trail to Aptor followed by an even muddier track up and down along Adaptor Lane to the Ipplepen road.

Emerging at last only to find wall to wall flood water! and an abandoned vehicle? this fortunately was Piltdown and Georgy's Drinks stop where after a very reviving drink of homemade wine we headed on Home to dry off!

Well done! a great trail from the Hares on a very wet day!

 

DOWN DOWNS

The Awards from our 1816 Marldon trail were presented to the following offenders....

Satnav who mistook the love heart on this Pillock shirt for a rude symbol?

Piltdown Man...a man to be looked up to! for causing confusion on the Longs trail !

Erection strikes a pose...for going back onto the short instead of straight ON Home.

Piltdown Man Steadying himself now..ready to take the "punishment" for all of that trail!

Fallen Woman who's time had arrived for another Birthday down-down!

Well done the Hares for laying a great trail in such poor weather, and a "warm" welcome at the Church House Inn.

 

ON ON to next week at Court Farm Inn Abbotskerswell (TQ12 5NY) with Piddler & Going Down

Offenders at the Lord Nelson...

8

NAKED LADIES GALORE & NOT BAREFOOT IN THE PARK MALARKEY

Run #1815 Monday 7th October from the Lord Nelson with GM Shitfaced assisted/steered by T Humper

Shirley it couldn't be another soggy short straw lay for the third week running [sic] as the intrepid hares set out out at 1 pm Monday afternoon under leaden skies. However, the hash gods on high did pause from their mischief making and the rains relented, Oh Dearly Give thanks...

A most valuable tip by the Grand Master was the late advice: 'Give yourself a bit extra time to find parking in surrounding roads!!' No luxury of the Park's car park here and I fear-ed the worst as I nosed over the sleeping policemen approach - but what's this - a space in the tiny three space 'car park' next to the Nellie? Shirley not! A check inside to ensure I was allowed to tether my chariot at point blank range and snug and smug indeedy was the Bat.  Teapot had also secured a spot above road next to the toilets in 'We'll tow you away if we're passing' territory.

Back and forth the chariots charged on their Ben Hur stadium sillies, describing ever increasing circles as they sought sanctuary, but eventually all were safely gathered in to finally make the circle outside the Nellie. Hallelujah!

The main guard of the hash was sorely depleted for one reason or another: Nary a Flying FRB sighted; Parkies unavailable as T Humper on Park duty and just a solitary Penner flying the Ipplepen pennant. But never mind, cometh the circle, came the extras and many an unfamiliar face surfaced to be noted in Teapot's roll.

Forty five at the circle with three late arrivals making forty eight in total:

GM Shitfaced, Winfield, Piltdown, Georgy, Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Teapot, Beefy, SM Ellie, Pan Fart, Bush Baby, Martin - yes, he came back, Grinder - nice to see you old son, Fukarwi, Prickly Bush, 3Sum, SatNav, Doris, Rambo, Hagen Daz, Budgie Smuggler, Zorro - he of Kirton not AH, Wet Johnny, TT, Mark, GaGa4It sporting another fine headwear creation, Kermit - hi, Big End, Well Hopped, Soapy, Melon Picker, Man Pig, Wigwam, Able, virgins three - Josh was one, sorry couldn't get the others, BB, Zoot, Hotlips, U Bend and Coldtits were the forty two identified from Beefy's footage though still half a dozen escaped my scrutiny..

Our glorious leader delivered his Waterloo epic spiel and all listened intently to the call to battle: A long, a short and a walkers' trail; two L/S splits; a SS AND a drinks stop.. it seemed more than reasonable and we were directed onto the stage to play out the drama, seemingly Fluder bound..

The Bat, aided and abatted [sic] by Big End and his trusty steed Ned, led the eager hash up the giddy Fluder ascent in true Grand Old Duke of York fashion.

Proudly did we advance, the longs with banners unfurled in all their fighting glory and magnificently did Brigadier Beefy surge past and we roared our defiance at battle joined but, alas, it was not to be, Oh Dearly Thwarted...

An absence of marks slowed the charge and suddenly a turn-off at the bottom of the hill was recalled. Wheeling our snorting steeds, the fatal cry of 'ON BACK!' was bugle blown and with barely concealed snarls of rage, we thundered back down the hill. Curses, you Grand Old Duke, foiled again.

A sharp descent down darkest Daccombe Mill Lane sorted the knights from the squires and then came the gentle ascent up Willowpark Lane to - yes, Oh Dearly We Should Have Known,  the top of Fluder Hill.. sigh.

Fishbait set Small Fry on me as I overtook, hissing 'Get him!' and the little lad only did and I was lucky to get away from the little terrier.

The Fluder debacle had really roughed up the order of play and the FRBs and longs were spread out in great disarray.  A heavy clattering of hooves astern just wouldn't go away and I greatly feared that Fukarwi had been putting in the miles again, but no, it was Wet Johnny 'aving a gogo. The Penner three - WJ, Manopause and Erection were on some sort of drastic weight-loss/get-fit mission and a slimmed-down WJ was already ready to rumble. Yet another approaching foot fall saw Grinder gently glide past on the incline.

Found out later that Well Hopped continues to have injury problems after her fall a fortnight ago - hope it gets better soon.

Darkest Daccombe and caliginous Coffinswell came and went with Manpig scouting well until choosing  wrong and was shuffled to the rear of the vanguard. Late arrival Coldtits suddenly appeared at the business end of the run, goodness knows how she had managed that manouevre.

Going off-road near Paraprick's drum and there he was, walking the dogs and had a quick word as we passed - Para and Maverick (yes, long time no see, old buddy) dropped by at the Nellie later.

Fleeing downhill betwixt the quarries, the FRBs WJ, Grinder and Beefy Mustaffa [Shirley sic] thought that the end was nigh and I requested an abandon ship at the Park turn-off, fearing that I would catch a chill if I tarried at the drinks stop too long.  Beefy nodded assent and half a mile later the Nelson loomed large with, as the hare had foretold, a fivish or so miles in the bag but, and it was a big BUT Beefy, I had missed the last L/S split and two miles of the long trail and was ignominiously relegated to the ranks of the shorts and walkers, oh the shame of it Shirley.. sigh.

The ever lurking whatamistakatomaka moment occurred as I vainly scoured the boot for a change of trainers, but being of unsound mind, I had forgotten my Blue Suede fliers and trying hard to look casual entered the pub sans footwear...Shirley they would not notice..

'Barefoot in the Park' (1967) would Shirley have been a triumph at our venue down the road a ways but we'll have to make do with Barefoot in the Nelson even though it doesn't have the same ring, Oh Dearly So Nearly a Classic...

First business of the evening is to inspect and choose the ale and next to the reliable London Pride the Naked Ladies caught my eye, as they Shirley do and I had to have one, the ale that is, but now you're getting me confused Oh Dearly Obsessed. Gentleman Fukarwi asked if he could have a Twickenham Ale rather than a Naked Lady - well you know what I mean. I wish I hadn't embarked on the Naked Ladies galore theme now..

The Grand Master and T Humper (trail and SS/shot stop at the Park) did us proud and the TVH hares' success story continues.

POSTSCRIPT

A bit of banter en routey:  'They couldn't have designed a better trail for me, love it!' quoth So Cruise to Wet Johnny. 'A good trail is when I don't have to listen to you!' came the biting rejoinder.  Oh well, he's probably right and I can see you nodding agreement out there. Lovely evening GM, thank you..

WINFIELD'S TRAIL MEMORIES

Memories of trail 1815, on 7th October from The Lord Nelson Kingskerswell with Hare:Shitfaced and T.Humper!

First problem, where to park? ( no multistory yet!), experience here required an early arrival,which many of us remembered! even then it was a good walk from our final space!.

Another great turnout with more virgin Hashers joining in, as we headed off on a testing run up Fluder Hill, missing a turn into Daccombe! lane. It was On-On,on a very warm evening towards Coffinswell the long taking on 7 miles while the Walkers and Short did somewhat less thankfully!

An extra virgin trail! led us in through the front door of The Park Inn, with the Sweet and Drinks stop at the rear carefully set up by T.Humper. Refreshed hic! a final run in led to the Lord Nelson, with for more revving drinks plus an an excellent Chili con carne.

Offenders this evening were:-

FUKAWE- arriving very early and still missed a good parking spot!.

GA-Ga 4it- with matching blue nails! did not finish her DD, but hopefully remembered where her car was parked!

BLUEBIRD cannot believe it! another DD for keeping the carpet clean!

KERMIT waiting now, for that big moment after his speedy run.

3-SUM admires her 100runs achievement!

A great evening well done the Hares!

On-On to next week at The Church House Inn Marldon (TQ3 1SL) with Hares Piltdown Man & Georgy P-Orgy

WATER WATER EVERYWHERE, A LARGE DEAD BIRD - BUT THE JOINT WAS ROCKING

Run #1814 Monday 30th September Oktoberfest  from the Taphouse, Newton Abbot with Wigwam

Shirley the end of the world is nigh, Oh Dearly Barely Afloat and the soggy short straw theme for the hares continued unabated from last week.

Hashers monitored the weather carefully to see if they should 'risk it' but the lure of a Wiggster Oktoberfest at a brand new venue eventually overrode concerns of a drenching at Newton Abbot on Sea.

The first sign of Water, Water, Everywhere* was the plethora of warning lights that blinked alarmingly on my chariot's dashboard after snorkelling through flooded lanes en routey. The lads (69, Beefy and actual motor expert Pan Fart) gave the reassuring verdict that it probably wasn't terminal and by now it had actually stopped raining, Oh Hallelujah chorus hit me with your rhythm stick, hit me.

The entrance to the Taphouse proved elusive and we peered into windows searching for signs of life. The dimly lit alley was a muggers' paradise and only shadowy figures could be counted but the roll of forty two was mighty encouraging - including virgins two. Whether these are the forty two is another matter, but I have tried:

Grand Master Shitfaced, Piltdown, Georgy, Winfield, Doris,T Humper, I-Poo'd, 3Sum, Pan Fart, Bush Baby, virgins Martin, Lou, Big End, Well Hopped, Fishbait, Small Fry, Gaga4It, Wetfart, Teapot, Artful Dogger, Plonker, Beefy, Fukarwi, Prickly Bush, Wide Receiver, Manpig, Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Wigwam, BB, Melon Picker, Soapy, Wet Johnny, Archangel, Able, 69, SM Ellie, Zoot, Nikki, Mark, Broads and Only Here for the Beer,

A star-studded cast of FRBs lurked in the darkness and I decided that this was not the night for the winter warmers and stripped off for action, Oh Dearly Once More Unto the Breach...

The riddle of the entrance was solv-ed when two young ladies appeared and entered the premises - for a few seconds we thought they were yon virgins for our edification but sadly not..

Soapy had some On On car stickers and two virgins were indoctrinated by the venerable Teapot before the author of the Oktoberfest was summoned. Despite getting a right royal soaking laying in the afternoon's deluge, the Wig-Meister had created three trails and a SS on some far flung promontory way out in the boondocks.  The long was estimated at about four miles and the charge of the French cavalry, Crecy style, across the playing field duly commenced the action.

A devious check-festooned alley chase ensued and resulted with Plonker, Artful Dogger Wet Johnny, Manpig, Beefy, Wide. Big End and Well Hopped being shepherded back by the hare who had indeedy headed us off at the pass: 'You're on the wrong trail!' were prophetic words and would echo in my ears very shortly.

The fire station would decide my destination and fate - Wet Johnny was alongside as we smashed across the roundabout and my tunnel vision espied a procession of hashers turning down onto the river bank.  Braking hard, I nearly ran into Teapot: 'I've never been down here before!' Round the corner and an awful sight revealed the serried ranks of the shorts and walkers completely blocking the narrow path. As stated at the DDS, sincere apologies for the unruly intervention, shorts and walkers all.

Meanwhile, the 'genuine' trail saw the FRBs and longs who had read the script, cascade around Jetty Marsh Nature Reserve. Career their names with pride for they Shirley knew what they were doing unlike the befuddled Bat and, as I learnt later, Manpig, who also wove an errant passage around the maze of paths.  We cannot blame the absence of marks as they endured throughout - oh yes, dear Wiggers, you did your job well.

With apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson, I give you The Charge of the Lone Long Hasher

“Forward, the lone long”

Was there a hasher dismayed?

Not though the hasher knew

Someone had blundered.

His not to make reply,

His not to reason why,

His but to hash and die.

Into the Towpath of Death

Hurtled the lone long.

No? Well...

Still convinced that I was on the long and the shorts/walkers had been planted to give us a laugh, I weaved through with that gent Piltdown moving aside to aid my passage. But never mind, back to the hash proper..

Artful Dogger had a nasty surprise when he ran into a large dead bird (no jokes please) just hanging around (from a bridge) and immediately Thomas Cooked (I know, they've ceased trading but so had Artful Dogger after the unwelcome encounter) a TB and cholera booster jab.

Lost count of the traversed bridges and on clearing the Penn Inn roundabout I thought my luck had changed when I saw a group of runners ahead and somehow convinced myself that SM Ellie was with them.  Quite an effort to reel them in only to discover they were Teignbridge Trotters.. long sigh.

Met the shorts head on (again) with Wetfart reminding me that 'You're a Pillock, Bluebird!' and was despairing until a eureka moment as the long trail mystically opened up ahead.

By the time I had reached the SS, they had shut up shop and moved on. Another sigh. Came across Melon Picker and Soapy in a huddle and found out later she had suffered a cut on trail.

The joint was rockin', going round and round by the time the longs trickled into the Taphouse.  After all his mighty deeds, Wiggy and Mrs S were at last relaxing and enjoying the fruits of his considerable labour - both the trail and cooking the various Oktoberfest offerings - and all at a bargain three sovs agogo.

Our delectable hostesses, Alyssia and Naressa dispensed the beer: Ground Control and Red Rock Drift Wood being tipples of choice.

That alternative song-meister Wetfart got the après downdowns ditties going with renditions of 'I'm a lumberjack' (my hat and Fukarwi's jacket inspired), 'And them good old boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye' and of course a revamped 'Bobby Woll, Bobby Woll...'

Newbie Martin, brought along by Pan Fart and Bush Baby, though not fully getting to grips with the run, had no difficulty understanding how the On Down and beer drinking went. The lad is a natural, I'm telling you.

Chief RA Manpig was in scintillating form and a good time was undoubtedly had by all who braved the biblical end of days flood.

To sum up, an unpredictable and excellent evening, courtesy of our Wiggy.

*The Rime of the Ancient Mariner ring a bell?

WINFIELD'S ADVENTURES

Memories of #1814 into Darkness and Floods from The Maltings Taphouse Newton Abbot with Hare Wigwam. On-On headed the large pack after a very wet and stormy afternoon.

A remarkable trail for L,S & W around Newton Abbot with the Longs heading on,while the Short turned to the river, where Wigwam had only just handed me the Stollen "sweet stop" instruction when my head-torch died!

I attempted follow Melon Picker as we wove our way along the river bank in the dark with the raging flood water only inches away! I did manage to him keep in sight just! as we finally reached the chosen "Stop" under the 380 road bridge, beyond which the way was totally flooded!

Not long after this as I reached the footbridge I discovered the car fob was missing from my pocket This could have been a disaster but fortunately after a short search back, there it was on the path thank goodness!

Back at the Taphouse a warm welcome, good drinks and for some good food, although after my delayed experiences a packet of crisps was all that was left, but good enough!

Awards for the evening were presented by Manpig to....

Wigwam for that dodgy river bank trail!

Fukawe who mistook Hornie for his partner!

Winfield for nearly losing his car key!

Piltdown being a gentleman, as Bluebird forced his way past along the towpath

Wet Fart who took a short cut AGAIN!

To Nickie a naming now to be known as..T T. something to do with tickler !

A great evening well done Wigwam!

On On to next week - definitely at The Lord Nelson Kingskerswell (TQ12 5JB) Hare: Shitfaced. route available to guide you from home now on South West Hashing Diary.

#1814 on 30th September Circle 7:15pm for the Oktoberfest Maltings Taphouse

 Newton Abbot (TQ12 4AA)  with Hare Wigwam, here is where we will be!

WET JOHNNY'S WELLINGTON WATERY WATERLOO

Run #1813 from the Wellington Inn, Ipplepen with Wet Johnny and Erection.

If only we had known, hash #1813 should have been scheduled for a fortnight later. Why, Oh Dearly Intrigued? The fam-ed Battle of Waterloo 1815 no less with that great British leader the Duke of Wellington. But never mind, on a wet evening, some hashers would meet their watery Waterloo from the Wellington Inn, courtesy of Wet Johnny and Erection.

There was undoubtedly the 'I don't fancy getting wet tonight' factor that ultimately decimated attendance, but, nevertheless, thirty three intrepid souls - no fair weather hashers these - made the circle in light drizzle to hear the sermon according to Shitfaced.

No Teapot and Piltdown faithfully recorded the brave thirty three who were going to risk it but please don't get me started on that ditty:

Grand Master Shitfaced, Fukarwi, Piltdown & Georgy, T Humper, Getting Wet, Never Wet, I-Poo'd, Poles Piddler, Zorro, Twinkletoes, Gaga4It sporting a natty waterproof one piece ensemble with even nattier headwear, SatNav, Winfield, 69, Beefy, Wet Johnny, Manapause, Erection, Virgin Nicky who found us on Facebook, Dan & Holly, Wigwam, Archangel, Forrest, Manpig, Able, Wetfart, BB, Artful Dogger, SM Ellie, Hagen Daz & Budgie Smuggler*.

That good 'ol' country boy Forrest was straight onto the bunny when he caught sight of a hazelnut harvest next to his battered chariot. Ah, good memories and I helped gather the tasty feast with Forrest and his hole in the bottom plastic bag - evidently recycled since the villainous dawn... but I digress once more so without further ado, back to the action..

A fluorescence of assorted rain jackets did assail the eyes but was pointedly scorned by three who were intent on trucking out there in the recently formed wetlands of Ipplepen..

The circle got under way after the GM retired from the impromptu footie kick-about which had been initiated by Getting Wet who was, like the rest of us, getting... No? Well please...

Various were the madding announcements as the fidgety three** shuffled and jiggled. Finally, there was an announcement too far as Fukarwi, he of the dubious spray on tan, stepped forward and unfortunately commenced his spiel with a 'May I make...' and was immediately howled down by the mob - sorry mate!

WJ gave the paddling orders: Three L/S splits, a walkers' trail...' and proceedings got underway with quite a heavy downpour to dampen the ardour of the bravehearts as we spilled out onto the highway heading for the common and adventure aplenty. 

Artful Dogger was nearly witness to a hit and run most foul as a horse box careered past in a flurry of spray to come within millimetres of taking out a fleeing Baby Bat.** Nasty moment that.

The Artful Dogger led us up onto Orleigh Common where the drama was to unfold. A cunning check concertinaed the pack as the doughty longs awaited the call from the FRB scouts. The ON ON was called and it was Piccadilly Circus as Manapause, Manpig, Dan. Holly, Beefy, Hagen Daz and Budgie Smuggler jockeyed for position in the narrow wood paths made slippy slick by the day's deluge.

The immortal words were uttered: 'Out of my way, I'm so hot I'm practically on fire!' Sigh... It happened in a flash - Artful Dogger cried 'Oh Oh!' and survived a glass like descent but the unfortunate follower wearing light Epic road race shoes had no such luck and went down like a good 'un blocking the thoroughfare. What a catastrophe, what a Pillock! Gleefully did the pack trample the afflicted Bat and it was only the noble Fukarwi who rendered assistance.

Back at the pub  I heard that Holly had taken a far worse tumble nearby. Quickly up and in the heat of battle, she still continued to complete the 6 mile long before the damage manifested itself into a large bruise along her shin. Fingers crossed no lasting injury.

Exiting the treacherous wood, salvation loom-ed - the blessed road opened up and merrily did we gallivant and cavort in the pale moonlight***. Fukarwi had a very quick burst on his one stringed banjo before the FRBs resumed station. 

Past the Church House at Torbryan (2.4 miles in) we fled and intercepted Piltdown and pooch on the short. Manpig was still boxing on and Zorro arrived on the scene as we went cross country en routey for Denbury. 

The sounds of pursuit gradually fell away and the Artful Dogger and Beefy coursed onward with the pace picking up on the tarmac. A little earlier, Beefy had survived a slippery stile but had turned his ankle and wisely eased round the final part of the trail.

By the Union Inn, I knew the way home but there was an 'interesting' moment when blinded by driving drizzle, I plunged into a flooded section of lane and stepped into a pothole which somewhat checked my momentum.

Up the back of the church and there was Poles Piddler doggedly climbing to the pub.

Plenty of room at the inn and the bangers & chips satisfied, washed down with Doom Bar or Otter.

With so many awards (Pillock shirt, Horsey Horseface hat, Viking horns and the recently emerged Dickhead Hat) missing, three bat hats were the last hats standing for RA Manpig to hand out.

*Sorry Zoot, forgot to tell them about the shirt.

**The usual suspects: Artful Dogger, Beefy and the Bat.

***Poetic licence.

WINFIELD'S WISDOM & AWARDS

After pouring with rain all day, tonight looked a washout!. But many hardy Hashers had made it to our Circle including new Harriet Linsey.

In persistent rain, after surviving a slippery time on Orley Common, decided to keep on Short along with Satnav and Piddler, to the Sweet Stop, followed by on a hilly trail through Clennon Woods, where every time we pulled away from Piddler on the flat. the closing sound of his sticks on the uphills kept us moving on! faster to the On Home and a dry off!

Awards for the evening were presented to...

Wet Johnny: An appropriate name for giving us such a WET time!

Getting Wetter: Another good name! for his football tricks before Circle time.

Bluebird: ..Yes again! for falling over after saying he was "On fire" with his performance!

T.Humper: For claiming to be Safety Officer in guiding those going astray home early!

To Holly and Dan a joint naming!

Holly from the brewery to be known as Well Hopped after struggling with her DD

Dan the master mechanic named Big End

Well done the Hares for a great evening in-spite of the weather!

POSTSCRIPT

The hares had drawn the short waterlogged straw but laid the usual solid and inspired trail. The longs really appreciated the arrows in the last part of the run - checks would not have helped in the conditions! Reluctantly, I'll have to look at some off-road shoes as it was impossible in road racers! Lovely evening with lovely company, my pint glass did Shirley overfloweth despite nearly meeting my Waterloo.

On On to next week to the Oktoberfest at Maltings Taphouse Newton Abbot (TQ12 4AA) with Hare Wigwam

Watch this space! in-case there is a problem with the venue