SUMMER'S HERE!

 

Run #2082 Monday 30th June Circle up 7:15 pm from Pizwell Farm, PL20 6TN, Postbridge with Pisswell. What3Words buckling.hotdog.fixture

Proceed past Soussons Plantation and turn left at Runnage Bridge.

PLEASE NOTE

Bring cash for Pizwell beef burgers and beer. Please advise of beef burger allergies or BYO! Also can people wear something that would double as swimming attire as if it’s hot at the sweetie stop we’ll stop for a dip! Thanks, Pisswell

TVH3 The Words for 23rd June 2025

 

Cold East Cross (thence Rugglestone)

Run No. 2081

Tit for Twat

HARE: Beefy (alias Michael Fish)

 

Who wuz there: Beefy, Pocket Rocket, Man-Pig, Forrest Stump, Pisswell, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Coldtits, Beeflicker, Wet-Johnny, Warm Front, Fukarewe, Miss'ing, Melonpicker, Soapy, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Polyfella, Strap-On, Strap-Dancer, Poacher, Wood-Lend & girlfriend (she must have a name by now)

 

Circle

The Beefy weather forecast posts on Facebook did not flatter to deceive. It was a bit blowy and a tad chilly at the appropriately named, Cold East Cross. Some heeded the Beefocast and dressed appropriately. Some didn't. Amongst the latter were Warmfront and Beeflicker. The lightly clad Warmfront returned to her car and donned a foxy top to keep warm whilst, at the other end of the spectrum, Beeflicker decided that a T-shirt was a layer too much....it takes all sorts..... and sometimes just shorts!

 

A late Smellie dictated that announcements were brief. Pisswell put in a plug for the Widecombe barn dance and TVH's post barn dance hash this Sunday morning at 10am - this will be run no. 2082. The following day will be Pisswell's trail from Pisswell's abode (direction on the TVH3 FB page).

 

The Pig asked for a volunteer for The Words. Never in the field of Hashing history has a Circle fell so quiet for so many for so long. Cheerio Beerio "volunteered" by raising her left hand.....an itchy ear or annoying fly perhaps? This was quickly followed by a refusal and 4 points thus ensuring that the Pig would be stand-in scribe.

 

So, over to the Hare. Beefy explained the usual three trails with a Long of sixish. Walkers two and a bit and the Shorts....err....well...in between. We would see cows, sheep and perhaps grouse...protected until 12 August but I have no idea who, if anyone, has shooting rights on the moor (answers on a postcard please to Little Lord Fauntleroy, Man-Pig Mansions, Kingskerswell.

 

Trail

Beefy points out the first Long/Short & Walkers' split from the car park. Poacher leads the Longs at breakneck speed towards Buckland Beacon and then promptly stops. The knee injury that he picked up from his trail at Manaton is still playing up. He makes his own way back to his truck and foregoes the pub.

 

The Longs is almost an out & back trail to the car park and we are soon catching up with the Shorts and the Walkers. We all cross a small granite footbridge comprising three granite marker posts. All except Pocket Rocket who elects for the vehicular bridge. This has walls to prevent the unwary from falling into the brook....current depth 1 inch (that's 25.4mm in new money).

 

Soon we are on a loop around the butts for the disused rifle range before our descent down a wide track, across a lane and thence the second L/S split. The Long's loop comes round and almost converges with the Walkers' and Shorts' trail; two parallel paths running between the lane and the brook.

 

The marks are good until we get to Weston Cottage and a sign marked "Private" and no obvious signs of flour. Missing, Pisswell, Man-Pig and Forrest Stump can hear calling but no marks. We back track and get on trail. We are now back tracking the outward trail towards the car park.

 

Almost at the car park, we see a line of fluorescent shirts in the far distance. They are ascending the broad footpath towards Rippon Tor. Although the wind is brisk, the pack appears to have warmed up sufficiently to shed their outer layer. How bright they shine under the setting sun.

 

Forrest and I are last but still have time for a photo shoot atop the Tor and catch up with Pocket Rocket and Cheerio Beerio. Now it is all downhill.

 

At the "pub", Beefy is distributing cider from the back of his car. Tail-end-charlies are now Soapy, Melonpicker, Man-Pig, Pocket Rocket and Cheerio Beerio. Forrest has made his own way back to to the car park with Mitch.

 

The trail back to the cars is straightforward and marked in ancient granite posts. I wonder if these predated the road parallel? Our ever responsible Hare is already back and ensuring that everyone is accounted for before we jump in our wagons and head for the Rugglestone.

 

Down-Downs

Pig is RA and, for a change, we have three awards. First of all, we thank the Hare for the beer...it must be costing him a fortune.

 

Ladies first as Coldtits stands up to allocate the Jester's hat. In spite of missing the Circle, Coldtits had both read and heeded the Beefocasts. Unlike our bare chested Beeflicker. The Beermeister is present so we are treated to "He's alright. He's alright. A little flat chested but alright. Down. Down. Down.

Next we have Wet-Johnny. He has the new propeller cap. There is a story about a setting sun, a full moon and a dribbler frothing at the mouth at the sight of the full moon. I didn't notice any full moon at 7.15pm a mere two days after the summer solstice. Shirley some mistaka? No mistaka. Piltdown Man's builder's bum full moon had Soapy all afroth. Our Beermeister leads us all in "Ten toes up and ten toes down".

 

Our Hare has the Union flag stove pipe hat. I think the story is that the trail did not actually lead upto the trig point atop Rippon Tor. Why did it need to? Given its proximity, it was a dead cert that all would take advantage of such a natural view point. All but one - our tee-total GM Pocket Rocket. Coldtits went to the bar to get a glass of water whilst the Songmeister leads us in, "You're stupid. You're stupid. You're so damn dumb. If your Mother hadn't been there you'd be a lump of cum". How flattering.

 

Of course, the hare has to have a DD. But wait. Pisswell has a "new" RA bag and it is full of new RA paraphenalia. Out comes a turd mug and a brown paper bag with holes cut out for eyes, nose and mouth.....but not necessarily tailored for Beefy. It is not a good fit. Nevertheless, the DD is successfully dispatched to the sounds of S.H.I..Y.T.R.A.I.L.

 

Amazingly, and probably in the absence of Psycho, we still have two beers left. So are there any stories?

 

Forrest has one about a bad samaritan. One of our Hashers came across a prone Forrest on trail. What was he doing? Having just passed the rifle butts was he practicing his prone position? Instead of offering assistance, our samaritan embarked on a series of questions worthy of the Spanish inquisition.

"What are you doing here?"

"Why are you on your arse?"

"How long have you been here?"

"Do you have authority to be here?"

Whilst Forrest re-attaches his leg he humbly mumbles, "I fell over".

So who is our uncharitable inquisitor? Man-Pig.

 

The final half. Our RA simply asks, "Did anyone fall over this evening?" The final half is already making it's way towards Forrest's outstretched hand!

 

Next week

Next week's Hash is from Pisswell's abode (see FB page for exact location). Our Hare is, surprisingly, Pisswell.

 

On-On to next week MP

COLD EAST CROSS CAR PARK

 

Run #2081 Monday 23rd June Circle up 7:15pm from the car park at Cold East Cross, B3212,(what3words taps.fishnet.sharpen) with Beefy. OD The Rugglestone Inn, Widecombe in the Moor.

Please order your food, by phone, before you set out and say you are with the Hash.

Please see the menu posted earlier (subject to availability).

01364 621327

 

THE WORDS according to Beefy with supporting B feature

 

Run #2080 Monday 16th June

Court Farm Inn, Abbotskerswell

Hare: Strap-On

 

Popcorn is available in the foyer before taking your seats. The ice cream lady will be selling Kia Ora orange juice and choc ices at the interval. And now, dispensing with Pearl & Dean, curtains up for the feature.

 

Writer's block... who would have thought that someone who writes very rarely could have it? Am I sitting comfortably? No but, I am wearing my Freudian slippers, I have a Napoleon shandy to hand and I consider those who look forward to The Words being published as prospectors of fools gold.

 

I arrived at the Court Farm Inn, astride my trusty bicycle, as I am wont to do in less inclement weather, to find Hare, Strap On, in full beer top gear with Bee Flicker and Poacher as earlier arrivals.

 

Gradually, the car park filled with Hashers. As we all know, time is an allusion (sic) and Hash Time merely an affectation so, eventually, Piltdown Man called the Hash to order sometime after 7.20.

 

There were a few notices: Pork Torpedo invited us all to to His and Hornie's home to celebrate Hornie's Birthday on 5th July... the same day the Man Pig is laying the Devon A to B Trail.

 

Pisswell reminded us about the Widecombe barn dance the morning after which there will be a Hare of the Dog Trail as Hash #2082 (I think.) SMEllie said she wanted Venues confirmed for Trails booked, please. There might have been other stuff.

 

At the Circle were: Strap On, Strap Dancer, Cheerio Beerio, Bee Flicker, Slip on Me, Able Semen, Forrest Stump, Wet Johnny, Smash, Miss Mash, Bog Roll(?), Poacher, Piltdown Man, Georgie P'Orgy, Pisswell, Psycho, Warm Front, Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Pocket Rocket, SMEllie, Fukarwe, Bluebird, Archangel, Man Pig, Palmolive, Beefy and a gentleman from the Lunatics. Late to arrive was van commando and persistent former GM, Shitfaced who, resplendent in his beer-drinking flip flops, saw little of the evening's Trail.

 

The Hare had informed us of a sheep field on a Long/Short split and asked that no dogs were to go through. Also, for the Longs, there was an extra loop marked "LL". There was a safety brief in the form of an instruction not to follow Fukarwe if you happen to be lost on Trail: you're preaching to the choir, Strap On!

 

So, it was On through the pedestrian access to a Check on Slade Lane. On right and soon we overtook the Walkers with the Hare leading. On, and up, we went: up that hill, which is not a favourite of Wet Johnny's, we hear.

 

At the summit, we espied an indication of the promised VPs. We turned left into Yolhey (yes) Lane and On into Bitney Lane where we were treated to a brace of VPs overlooking agricultural land and, at the second, a distant view of The Priory retirement village where Psycho had been working that very afternoon. Coincidence? Yes. This was a "there and back again" diversion for us (Poacher, Bee Flicker, Warm Front, Psycho, Wet Johnny and Beefy) and, on our way back we met Man Pig running the other way.

 

Back onto Slade Lane, and so to the cross roads to encounter Maddacombe Road and Whiddon Road. "Isn't that where Only Here for the Beer's place is?" asked Bee Flicker. "It was." replied Beefy.

We continued along Bickley road where an arrow took us up through the woods to another VP. This one overlooking Stoneycombe quarry. Always worth a look no matter how many times we have been there and looking good under the descending Sun.

 

The Trail led us to Dainton where we caught up with FRB Pisswell, who went ahead by missing the the first VPs and maintained her lead.

 

We found a check in front of the bungalow by the Rape field. Warm Front and Beefy checked wrongly (knowingly) and returned to join the rest for a slightly different route through. Visual contact with Warm Front was lost temporarily but, a call to her was met with a reassuring call back.

 

Out onto Marldon which took us to the "Long Long" across Totnes Road into Moor Road then the pathways to Fermoys. The very well marked Trail took us along Totnes Road and right down Whiddon Road to the sheep field. Bee Flicker and Beefy decided to walk around the perimeter. It was a noisy experience with some sheep approaching us and others moving away but all bleating.

 

By the time we reached the outbound gate, Pisswell, Warm Front, Psycho and Wet Johnny caught up by walking straight across the field. Minutes later, we were suddenly back at the On-down where the rest of the Hash was sitting at various tables, with a drink, looking as if they had been there all afternoon.

Well done, Strap On. It was a very enjoyable Trail. Plenty of variety and well laid. Thank you.

 

As for the Down-downs? Well... Beefy was awarded the Union Flag top hat for jogging around the CP to make up the mileage. Guilty, for a mere 0.05 mile, it was worth it.

 

The uncaged 'Bird was singing joyfully on Trail much to the annoyance of Forrest who, it seems, passed him on to Fukarwe, who made a welcome return after hurting himself, quite badly, falling off a motorcyclist. Welcome back, Fukarwe!

 

Poacher got one for something which I don't recall. Wet Johnny got Shitfaced's (how do you say that?) Propeller head hat from Psycho, I think, but for what I know not. Able Semen got one. Did she "write it"? Had she "left it"? I don't know but, Pisswell sang a song all "about it"! Eventually, RA Forrest gave one to the Hare and, very well deserved it was.

 

On on Beefy.

 

INTERVAL lights up and Ice cream lady

 

B feature (B for Bird you fools)

 

FUKARWE'S REDEMPTION 

Recalling the previous week's shock to the system, the Bird did a half mile loosener, arriving upon the circle from the village entrance .

 

Many and varied were the announcements, most going in one ear and... but I do recall Pork Torpedo giving out a hash welcome to Hornie's special Birthday Party on Saturday 5th July, message PT for address. The rest escaped me as Strap-On patiently waited to get a word in.

 

The all important (vital for some) distances were delivered like a crack of impending doom: Long about six, long long (so long, let me know how you get on) perhaps the Magnificent Seven, shorts FOUR AND A HALF ... no-o-o-ooo and walkers just tag along with the hare who is about to lay it.

 

The hare then elaborated on his grand scheme with warnings galore. A private road, he'd talked to some residents roundabouts who didn't seem keen but avowed that we'd be rolling (rolling, rolling, keep them..) through anyway.

 

There was a field with many thousands of sheep (two hundred actually but I want to engender a little excitement as you seem to be nodding off) so keep all doggies tethered.

 

The icing on the hash [sic] cake was the promise of glorious viewpoints along the way - this doubtless adding mileage.

 

Finally, Strap-On launched into a fierce tirade aimed at the unfortunate Fukarwe 'Every trail I've ever laid, Fukarwe has messed it up! Don't do it this evening!'

 

And with that excellent rendition, we were mercifully released.

 

A few hundred yards after the off, a blonde pony-tailed lady (singalong with me - Chantilly Lace) was seen exiting her chariot in running attire. Poacher informed that it was Vampire from AH3. We never sighted her again so whether she joined us or not is a Miss Terry... no, well please...

 

The second check was by the Butchers Arms turn off. Closed in 2013 and now sadly designated as residential housing., a few of our seasoned hashers can recall this great OD, happy days.

 

Beeflicker was dutifully checking it out but the dastardly Poacher and his crony swept past up the hill with nary a pause. The Bird had been sighted by Archangel out on his loosener which had taken him up the leafy lane by the derelict pub. HA!

 

However, the Bird played the white man at the next check halfway up the hill as Poach loitered ready to kick the direction. Blast it, a cross, and back the Bird staggered, muttering to himself.

 

The mistaka had been costly as the vanguard was now upon us - Wet Johnny, Warmfront, the Pig, Forrest and Pisswell. The meeting was short-lived, however, as a L/S split and a VP tour came into play.

 

Hard a starboard did Forrest, Muttley and the Bird veer, leaving a disconsolate but much fitter Pisswell for the moment on her lonesome.

 

Forrest and the Bird had been having a right old natter until suddenly Forrest became aware that we hadn't seen any marks for a while. Just as Forrest cried 'mark alert!', we heard a shout behind us. It was Fukarwe calling us back.

 

The Bird was suspicious - especially recalling the dire warning at the circle. At a junction, Fukarwe pointed to a mark on the corner. I was wondering when he'd spot that...

 

The three veteran hashers continued though the Bird was dubious indeed. 'If it isn't down here, it'll go badly for you in the pub!' But the Bird was mistaken - we were only on! Hurrah! for Fukarwe, he's only saved us! All previous misdemeanours forgiven.

 

Onwards coursed the ag-ed gladiators - but there was a problemo. Forrest noticed that Muttley (thought it was Perry but apparently it was Mitch) was beginning to lag quite badly. Forrest was worried but not as worried as the Bird who had visions of carrying the afflicted Muttley back to the ranch-house - shades of the time he had carried Blaster's Crusher back after his legs had failed. Was that nigh on a score years ago?

 

Slower and slower went poor Muttley and then, abruptly, he stopped and had an enormous poop. Oh, the relief (for Muttley, you fools) and with that, Muttley bounded away. Problemo solv-ed!

 

Fukarwe peeled off onto the next long split, leaving Bird, Muttley and Forrest to continue their merry way past Able and Slip on Me and into the forbidding Private Road with an additional discouraging legend 'NO DOGS ALLOWED' posted at the entrance.

 

I didn't know where I was and I'd just been there. It seemed like the drive to a stately home and cautiously did the tiny cavalcade proceed.

 

Navigated without any kerfuffle, we passed the forties black and white striped post and descended to come out, most unexpectedly, outside the Court Farm entrance! With just 5K on the Garmin, it was just the ticket - the shortened version of the short owing to us omitting the VP option. Forrest went to stop his tech and recorded 0.01 - he hadn't started it, whatamistaka to have mada..

 

Nice trail, Strap-On, I cannot remember having done it that way round before and it completely disorientated me. If I had been by myself I would have ended up in Coffinswell,

 

Good Boy, Fukarwe, hero of the hour!

 

Hasta luego, El Pajaro

 

Next week: A Dartmoor epic from Cold East Cross with Beefy. OD The Rugglestone.

SUMMER DIARY

 

COURT FARM INN

Run #2080 Monday 16th June Circle up 7:15 pm from the Court Farm Inn at Abbotskerswell with Strap-On and Strap-Dancer.

TVH WORDS by Warmfront

Monday 9th June, Artichoke Inn

It was good to be back in the Teign Valley. After a lot of parking shenanigans we circled up in the car park across the road from the Artichoke Inn, Christow. Unusually there were no announcements, so over to the hare. Forrest warned us that the first long was ‘long’ and something about frisky stirks. I’m sure he said that the long would be around 8, the shorts less, and the walkers even less. Duly warned, off we set….inevitably up a long hill with Poacher and Bee Flicker leading the way. 

 

I confidently predicted that we’d be going uphill all the way to the reservoirs, but I was proved wrong at the first long when we ended up going DOWNhill to join a lane which was heading back to Christow! We were soon heading back uphill though, and this was the theme for the rest of the evening. I’m pretty sure it was 90% uphill somehow.

 

Sure enough we found the cows although they seemed more interested in eating grass than what we were up to. Although tales from the pub reported they took a keener interest in some of the later arrivals. There was some brief milling around and a bit of confusion at one junction, then Poacher called us On On and we were heading down into Moor Barton Farm. Wet Johnny paused to make friends with another herd of cows, this time through the safety of a fence. Downhill through the conifers and we reached the reservoirs; the still, calm waters grey under the overcast sky. 

 

Over the causeway and we turned right to follow the shore of Tottiford. The longs had regrouped and we crossed the Kennick dam together and plunged back into the forest, into the gathering dusk. Finally we were back out onto the road and heading downhill….surely we must be nearly there, I hadn’t brought a torch! I’d almost forgotten about the OS stop which turned out to be Forrest’s trademark refreshing orange segments, complete with a glorious view over the Teign Valley.

 

There was one more obstacle; an incredibly steep field and then a narrow, overgrown (and steep!) path down into Christow. We caught up with the shorts/walkers, and then spied the On Home back to the pub, who’d put on vat of chilli for us.

 

Pisswell had brought a bag of eclectic drinking vessels and awards with her, apparently with the sole aim of palming them off on unsuspecting hashers. The first award went to Forrest for the trail, he seemed to need little encouragement to get down on his hands and knees to drink it from the dog bowl. Psycho tried to award a down down to Wet Johnny but was foiled as he’d sloped off. Instead it went to Smellie for become ensnared twice in the brambles on the final descent. There was a lot of discussion about the genders of urinals, before Smellie settled on the ‘female’ version and drank her half through that. Next up (I think) was Miss Inn, for not being miss-in at all who opted for the tiny wellie, then Shit Faced for his 300 run badge. The last award went to Strap Dancer as a welcome returnee.

 

Thank you Forrest for an excellent trail, and on-on to next week!

ARTICHOKE INN (last there 2016)

 

Run #2079 Monday 9th June Circle up 7:15 pm from the Artichoke Inn, Christow EX6 7NF with the master trail-layer Forrest.

Can it have been nine long years since we last visited this beautiful and traditional 12th century thatched watering-hole, beloved of the serfs, peasants, and commoners setting off to the Holy Land Crusades to do battle in a beerless wilderness?

(I'll see you at the bar for my pint, Forrest mate.)

Hash fare: Chilli con carne at about £5 - £7 a head.

TVH3 The Words for 2 June 2025

 

The Grumpy Farmer (formerly Red Rock Brewery) Humber

Run No. 2078

 

HARES: Well Hopped & Roger the Dodger

 

Who wuz there: Well Hopped, Roger the Dodger, Pocket Rocket, Man-Pig, Forrest Stump, Bluebird, Pisswell, Beefy, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Coldtits, Big End, Beeflicker, Wet-Johnny, Psycho, Warm Front, Smash, Miss Mash, Slip-on-Me, Ablesemen, Polyfella, Wetfart, Archangel, Miss'ing (who wasn't), Rise'n'Shine & returnee, Bog Roll

 

Circle

A welcome return to the former Red Rock Brewery after an absence of over a year. The Grumpy Farmer now operates as a wedding venue.

 

Prior to the Circle, Rise'n'Shine, Ablesemen and Man-Pig were lucky to get a guided tour of the wedding barn and reception areas, courtesy of the new owner. Lovely exposed ancient oak beams atop a stone built barn. All beautiful and very rustic.

 

But in no time at all it was time to Circle Up.

 

Pocket Rocket quietly welcomes all whilst the Hash firing squad surround him and take aim. What was his misdemeanour? Drinking beer with .....a meal - all quite legal apparently so we all put down our weapons and carried on as normal.

 

The GM advises that we have two returnees in the form of Rise'n'Shine and Bog Roll - welcome back.

Smellie needs a hare for one slot in July. I think Beeflicker has volunteered.

 

Next Pork Torpedo steps up to give us an update on the fund-raising that he has being doing for the SANDS charity. Pork Torpedo explained that he was one of a group of seven fundraisers that had committed to running at least a mile-a-day throughout May; although all had well exceeded that mileage.

 

The team comprised Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Hornies' daughter (Jailbait) their son-in-law (Up-Periscope), Soapy, and two others. Together they have raised in excess of £6,000 - a fantastic effort and a round of applause all round.

 

However, and more importantly, Pork Torpedo wanted to read out a text message from Hornie's daughter thanking all those who had baked and donated to the charity.

 

It was a heartfelt message than only a bereaved Mother could have penned. The key message was that it is OK to talk about one's loss. Even though the child might not have made it into our world, the child was very much alive throughout the pregnancy and it is important to keep that memory alive.

 

People frequently consider the issue of still-birth somewhat taboo. Something not to be talked about. Something to be kept inside the family. This just makes matters worse.

 

We have all lost someone we love, a parent, a partner and, Heaven forbid, a child. Talking is good. It keeps the memory of those we love, and have loved, alive. It is cathartic. It is not taboo. To quote the old BT advert, "It is good to talk" - especially amongst friends.

 

And so over to the Hare.

 

Well Hopped had diligently made some notes. There would be the usual three trails, a Walkers', Shorts' and Longs'. Marks would usually be on the right....except when they weren't. For the Walkers, it was crucially important to check for an important mark on your left. The distances were approximately 2, 4 and 6 miles. This clear explanation was immediately followed by the Bird asking how far it was!

 

Trail

The trail was pretty much the tried and tested route from this venue. But that certainly did not detract from it remaining a fantastic trail.

 

I think the operative word from the first sentence is "pretty". The views over Teignmouth and out to sea from the drink stop are beautiful. Ergo, the view over the Teign from Higher Radway Farm must be one of the most picturesque views from any Hash trail in Devon. And all this washed down by another brilliant drink stop guarded by Norman and Norma. The sea shunting Bluebird just couldn't get enough Captain Morgan at the drink stop....or now that he's gone all reggae, should that be a brandy shandy and grenadine?

 

The trail headed up through woods towards the golf course and Little Haldon. The Longs then went on a loop around the edge of the golf course and lost the trail....two dots and........errr....nothing. 

 

Eventually, after backtracking to the previous check that was cunningly laid, almost in reverse, we picked up the trail along and then across Teignmouth golf course. 

 

Just below the clubhouse, we are back with the Shorts and heading along the postman's path to the drink stop which was being manned by Roger the Dodger. Excellent selection, presentation and hospitality along with terrific views. We loitered and nibbled for far too long. Almost inevitably it is was onto the public footpath at Higher Radway Farm.

 

Whilst Polyfella and the Pig carefully watched their steps along the steep descent, the light-footed Warmfront simply disappeared from view, her feet barely touching the ground.

 

At Teignview Road, there was the second Long/Short split. The Shorts headed right and up Teignview Road towards the cemetery. The Longs dropped down onto Forde Lane.

 

Unfortunately, what goes down must, Shirley, go up. Almost at the end of Forder Lane, an arrow directs us towards the steep climb up the locally nicknamed Happy Hill. Beefy maintained that he was perfectly happy. Warmfront did not pass comment on the extent to which she was happy - or not. Suffice to say that, at this point, the usually warp factor progress of the light footed one had ground to a slow walk.

 

A tad shy of 7 miles for the Longs. I'd say that we had earned ourselves a beer....or two?

 

And now over to the Bird is the Word:

 

CAPTAIN MORGAN INVIGORATES & MISS INN' APPEARS IN THE INN

Yes, Oh Dearly Beloved, it's me again. The reports of my hash retirement were somewhat premature.

The whimsy in me fluttered and stirred on seeing the ages old snap of Wiggsy and the Beetlejuice trouser-attired Bird, so you have Beefy to blame for my appearance at the Red Rock Baby this early June evening.

 

Weary you further, I shall not and cut to the chase without further ado though I was deeply troubled by my inability to recall the hare giving out distances and my asking for same but a few moments later. Never mind, now on to the action.. slowmo though it proved to be.

 

Few will recall that olden day cars needed the engine to be run for several minutes before setting off to necessitate fuel mixing and lubrication. The parallel with ancient hashers is similar. The shock of starting to run without a warm-up was disconcerting to say the least.

 

That first hill doesn't get easier and by the first check at half a mile I could hear the warning voice: 'Come in number thirty three, your time is up..' sigh.

 

I tarried with Big End, fervently hoping it wasn't up the rocky hell path to the golf course, but indeed it was. The two mile walkers looked to be the wisest choice as I grimly climbed and staggered upwards.

 

Up the gloomy gorge we struggled, valley of the shade of death

No time to halt gladly at the summit or indeed to catch our breath

 

The once gay caravan of hashers faltered and shredded apart, some never to be seen again.

 

My company for the evening's test was young Flowery who also was lacking in fitness. We tagged onto Big End and Wet Johnny as we traversed the golf course. At the exit of the golf course we ground to a halt. Big End was surveying the marks with a frown. 'They can't be right' and with that, he erased a cross and we continued.

 

Huge was the effort expended as the drinks stop hove into view.

 

As a rule, I seldom tarry long at such contrivances, but this evening I was grateful for a pause.

And there it was - a bottle of Captain Morgan rum! Oh lordy and smacka my thigh. I recall having a few shots and then launching into Bury My Body and Calypso Rum and Grenadine but it's all a bit hazy.

 

Leaving Captain Morgan, I spotted a potential souvenir to take away. Over the years I have 'recovered' a few unlikely trail souvenirs: A false leg (on this very trail) a lady mannequin and an inflatable crocodile to name but three.

 

However, there was a problem with this contender - what I thought was a plastic gnome turned out to be a weighty ceramic model. As I toyed with the idea of transporting it back to the bar, Big End shouted: 'Oi, you can't nick that!' I reluctantly abandoned the enterprise as Flowery reminded me of the Basil Fawlty sketch of Basil holding a gnome which he was going to insert into the cowboy builder O'Reilly. No? Well...

 

Now, where was I? Ah yes, we had already travelled three miles by the watering hole and both Flowery and I were a tad concerned about how far there was to go. The projected four for the short seemed unlikely and if that were the case, the long might be over six as well.

 

The hares had done well as the hash had been brought together and we had company up to the L/S split. Flowery and I decided that the short was the wisest option and we were delighted to squeeze a five miler out of a short trail - and survive to relate the tale.

 

A quarter of a mile from the sanctuary of the bar, a large 4 X 4 drew alongside. A short conversation with Bin Laden who regularly drops by the Humber farm enterprise for an ale or two, though Flowery failed to recognise him. Perhaps it wasn't him- after those invigorating jolts of Captain Morgan.

 

Back at the ranch-house, the Jail was an okay £4.50 agogo and the company was excellent. Wetfart marked my card with an Elvis song I hadn't heard - Long Black Limousine - well That's All Right. 

 

Quite a surprise was the appearance inside by Miss Inn' - named as such for the reason she only does the run and fails to attend the pub. A DD Shirley? Nope, apparently no-one had spotted the rarity.

A most enjoyable evening - thank you Roger and Well Hopped. And not forgetting Captain Morgan!

 

Down-Downs

The Pig is RA

 

Ablesemen for hoarding "a nice pair" of Awards, including the missing Hashshit shirt (recently returned from Porton Down)

 

The Hares for an excellent trail and sweetie stop

 

Coldtits for telephone usage on trail

 

As Beefy remarked, the 'inevitable' DD to Psycho for making a pit stop en route

 

Pork Torpedo for kicking over his own drink and finally,

Pork Torpedo and Horny for their excellent fundraising in support of SANDS

 

A final Hash song only for the co-owner of the Grumpy farmer who had missed all the down-downs, "Hold it your hand Mrs Murphy"!

 

Next week

Next week's Hash is from the Artichoke at Christow (a long time since we were last there). Our Hare is Forrest-Stump.

 

On-On to next week. MP & the Bird.