Run
# 1761 Mon 24th Sept. Harcombe Woods in lane behind (EX6 7XS) Haldon F
Diner OD: Bishop Lacey. Hares: Soapy & Melon Picker
Back to Harcombe we went for another Tour de Haldon and as I nosed round the corner in sight of the car park entrance, a veritable traffic jam unfolded before me. Gawd 'elp us all, there must be an awful lot of cars to necessitate parking on the verges outside. But no, it became apparent that the car park was now locked and barred. Oh sacre bleu! So what had happened to our snug little parking space, I hear you gently enquire?
A little research found said locale mentioned in the Cruising Gays hookup guide (comments anticipated I am sure) and probably is one of the reasons the car park is now sealed:
'𝑨 𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒌 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒏. 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒊, 𝒈𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒅/𝒕𝒗 𝒇𝒖𝒏. 𝑳𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒌𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚!! 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓.
𝑵𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅: 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒅𝒐𝒏 𝑯𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔'
Well, the dubious author of that pretty narrative got it spot on in the first sentence - though I don't think it wise to dwell on the subsequent somewhat lurid details.
The GM took charge of his rapidly swelling flock and shepherded us past the barrier into the vacant car park. Soapy and Melon Picker took centre stage after the ritual banter and described the evening's 'weapon of choice' as a concoction resembling crushed digestive biscuits. This turned out to be a sawdust and flour mix which 'might be difficult to see in the dark'... Soapy said the trail had taken much of the day to lay and was very well marked - and indeed it was. The moronic elements were reminded that if they didn't see marks, they were not on the trail... So there we had it, three L/S splits, a sweetie stop and the added reassurance (for me anyway) that it wasn't that long. With that, forty four hashers and seven dogs embarked on the adventure**.
It was dry, no wind and quite clement out there and the hashers did what they usually do: The gladiators duelled - Wide, Poacher, Beefy; the keep fit fanatics - Fukarwe, Manopause, Wet Johnny, 69, U Bend, Erection, SM Ellie, Forrest, Man Pig, 3sum, SatNav, Coldtits, Wigwam, Winfield, Hornie & Pork Torpedo et al, battled themseves; the just get rounders - typically Only Here for the Beer, did just that and the remainder, comprising the decrepit and walking wounded had but one ambition - to survive the expedition and arrive at the bar to tell of yet another triumph.
Bobby did what he does so well*** and promptly slipped up, much to Slip on Me's delight but she too 'fell' foul of the elements a bit later on. A novelty 'river' crossing was easily forded by a mossy tree trunk but still caused consternation for the more timid souls.
The sweetie stop, manned by Soapy was most welcome and the Berties sustained us for the final stretch back home. Just before that, our little group caught sight of a line of head torches spread out over a hundred yards or so which prompted Slip on Me to exclaim 'How beautiful, take a photo someone!'
Back at the cars and there was no dilly-dallying as hashers were well aware of the scarcity of parking spaces in Chudleigh though crafty Winfield and Wetfart found prime spaces, HA!
The strange tasting Greene King IPA was the chosen ale and at a watery 3.6 ABV, it ensured a safe journey home. The chips were how they should be, yes, crisp unt light brown.
The DDs were delayed as both hares and the GM & Georgy were still missing at 9:30pm. Coldtits was also absent and some had deduced that there could be a connection, but no, they were mistaken. It finally transpired that SM Ellie hadn't returned to Piltdown's car and a rescue party had been organized. Coldtits had zeroed in on SM Ellie's phone and she was eventually found. Her head torch was very low and she had had difficulty seeing the way through the forest but all's well that ends well. Well done, the rescuers!
Spud (the hash dog, I remind you) wearing the Pillock Hashit shirt was the highlight of the DDs. I do recall Crusher wearing a hash hat once but never a shirt!
A splendid and eventful evening courtesy of the hard work of Soapy and Melon Picker. Thank you.
Downdowns in the Bishop Lacy where the following offenders received justice?
T.HUMPER for allowing SPUD to make amorous advances to Choccy. (Spud found a drink as well ! )
SATNAV for knocking Winfield over in her rush to the bar.
PILTDOWN MAN (again!) for leading the pack astray.
MELLON PICKER drinks for the pairs excellent muddy-deceiving Trail.
*With apologies to John Steinbeck
**Ding Dong went back to the van to collect her dog so was a bit late on trail.
***Come on, this is Bobbiball we're talking about, so you must know what he does so well!
On-On to next week at The Park Inn Kingskerswell with Hares Shitfaced & THumper.
Back to Harcombe we went for another Tour de Haldon and as I nosed round the corner in sight of the car park entrance, a veritable traffic jam unfolded before me. Gawd 'elp us all, there must be an awful lot of cars to necessitate parking on the verges outside. But no, it became apparent that the car park was now locked and barred. Oh sacre bleu! So what had happened to our snug little parking space, I hear you gently enquire?
A little research found said locale mentioned in the Cruising Gays hookup guide (comments anticipated I am sure) and probably is one of the reasons the car park is now sealed:
'𝑨 𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒌 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒏. 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒊, 𝒈𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒅/𝒕𝒗 𝒇𝒖𝒏. 𝑳𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒌𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚!! 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓.
𝑵𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅: 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒅𝒐𝒏 𝑯𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔'
Well, the dubious author of that pretty narrative got it spot on in the first sentence - though I don't think it wise to dwell on the subsequent somewhat lurid details.
The GM took charge of his rapidly swelling flock and shepherded us past the barrier into the vacant car park. Soapy and Melon Picker took centre stage after the ritual banter and described the evening's 'weapon of choice' as a concoction resembling crushed digestive biscuits. This turned out to be a sawdust and flour mix which 'might be difficult to see in the dark'... Soapy said the trail had taken much of the day to lay and was very well marked - and indeed it was. The moronic elements were reminded that if they didn't see marks, they were not on the trail... So there we had it, three L/S splits, a sweetie stop and the added reassurance (for me anyway) that it wasn't that long. With that, forty four hashers and seven dogs embarked on the adventure**.
It was dry, no wind and quite clement out there and the hashers did what they usually do: The gladiators duelled - Wide, Poacher, Beefy; the keep fit fanatics - Fukarwe, Manopause, Wet Johnny, 69, U Bend, Erection, SM Ellie, Forrest, Man Pig, 3sum, SatNav, Coldtits, Wigwam, Winfield, Hornie & Pork Torpedo et al, battled themseves; the just get rounders - typically Only Here for the Beer, did just that and the remainder, comprising the decrepit and walking wounded had but one ambition - to survive the expedition and arrive at the bar to tell of yet another triumph.
Bobby did what he does so well*** and promptly slipped up, much to Slip on Me's delight but she too 'fell' foul of the elements a bit later on. A novelty 'river' crossing was easily forded by a mossy tree trunk but still caused consternation for the more timid souls.
The sweetie stop, manned by Soapy was most welcome and the Berties sustained us for the final stretch back home. Just before that, our little group caught sight of a line of head torches spread out over a hundred yards or so which prompted Slip on Me to exclaim 'How beautiful, take a photo someone!'
Back at the cars and there was no dilly-dallying as hashers were well aware of the scarcity of parking spaces in Chudleigh though crafty Winfield and Wetfart found prime spaces, HA!
The strange tasting Greene King IPA was the chosen ale and at a watery 3.6 ABV, it ensured a safe journey home. The chips were how they should be, yes, crisp unt light brown.
The DDs were delayed as both hares and the GM & Georgy were still missing at 9:30pm. Coldtits was also absent and some had deduced that there could be a connection, but no, they were mistaken. It finally transpired that SM Ellie hadn't returned to Piltdown's car and a rescue party had been organized. Coldtits had zeroed in on SM Ellie's phone and she was eventually found. Her head torch was very low and she had had difficulty seeing the way through the forest but all's well that ends well. Well done, the rescuers!
Spud (the hash dog, I remind you) wearing the Pillock Hashit shirt was the highlight of the DDs. I do recall Crusher wearing a hash hat once but never a shirt!
A splendid and eventful evening courtesy of the hard work of Soapy and Melon Picker. Thank you.
Downdowns in the Bishop Lacy where the following offenders received justice?
T.HUMPER for allowing SPUD to make amorous advances to Choccy. (Spud found a drink as well ! )
SATNAV for knocking Winfield over in her rush to the bar.
PILTDOWN MAN (again!) for leading the pack astray.
MELLON PICKER drinks for the pairs excellent muddy-deceiving Trail.
*With apologies to John Steinbeck
**Ding Dong went back to the van to collect her dog so was a bit late on trail.
***Come on, this is Bobbiball we're talking about, so you must know what he does so well!
On-On to next week at The Park Inn Kingskerswell with Hares Shitfaced & THumper.
