Run #1784 Monday 4th March from The Star at Liverton with Soapy & Melon Picker
We came back, a hash like us, to The Star at Liverton, to see if there
was still a welcome in the valley. Whispers of a previous landlord who
had refused to give DDs (Oh Shirley Sacrilege!) and other suspicions
were swiftly allayed and proved to be only a distant nightmare - but in
my eagerness to get to the point, I shall return, Douggie Mac style to
the hospitality evaluation later, mes miserables..
A cold and
miserable March evening, gaily assisted by passing showers and the hares
had Shirley drawn the short straw tonight, T Humper. The noteworthy and
rare absentee was Teapot (also Wiggers - did he know something we
didn't?) and his call to order bugle (drat! I left mine at home) so from
memory alone, the following were recalled at the chilly circle:
Going Down, Piddler, Rambo, Doris, Piltdown, Georgie P, Bobby (only here
for the promised beer*), U Bend, Piddler, SM Ellie, BroadS, Soapy,
Melon Picker, Erection, WJ, Manopause, Poacher, Ina, T Humper, Comes Too
Late, I Poo'd, 3Sum, Shitfaced, Ben, Hugo, Will, Colditz, Archangel,
Tesco's Finest (AH3 refugee), Forrest, Manpig, Fukarwi, BB, Wetfart,
Only Here, Slip on Me, Beefy, Able, Hotlips, Zoot. Thirty nine hashers
true and please excuse any omissions.
After Only Here had given
the answer to Piltdown's question, the hares gave their version of what
lay in store for us out there in the woods: Three L/S splits, a walkers'
trail plus a concealed SS.
Mayhem materialised soon after the
off with hashers milling around in the housing estates surrounding The
Star. It was of course that wonderful hashing ingredient known as a
Silly Sod and that we Shirley were with the FRBs the chief sufferers.
Those Flying Orienteers, Hugo, Ben & Will, surged back and forth in
ever increasing desperation as they sought escape to the trail true.
The pattern was fast becoming evident - the hares were on a mission to
foil the FRBs and faithful to hash order, keep the pack together and I
mean together for ever - ARGHHHHH! NOOOOOO! A fate worse for the FRBs
than a pub with no beer.
Ten times thwarted, the FRBs, now quite
shaken, formed up into suspicious little huddles at each of the
multitudinous checks, leaving the scouting reports to the FOs.** Light
relief was provided by SM Ellie who struck a fanciful pose at a check
which was admired by some.
At last the way out into the boondocks
was found and across the rain sodden fields we squelched en routey for
the woods and the torment they would Shirley bring...
We shall
not dwell on the despicable deviations that were heaped upon us therein
and the gentle hashers in the pack were aghast at the screams of rage
heard at close hand as frustrated FRBs called On Back!
Poacher/Cider were seen at various times charging towards the FRBs from
unlikely directions and even though Forrest & Muttley took two short
trails, they only succeeded in gaining a few yards - such was the
confusion reigning rampant, Rambo.
Round and round and back and
forth we were led until marks were discovered that looked suspiciously
fresh. 'They're live laying lads!' snarled a gnarled [sic] FRB and sure
enough Shirley, the culprit was discovered, Der Zauberlehrling***
himself, shuffling furtively along with flour dispenser in hand. Yes, Oh
Dearly Distraught, Melon Picker was on mischief bent. 'I bet you don't
know where you are!' was taking the proverbial and sniffing
disdainfully, WJ, accompanied by Manopause, Manpig, Fukarwi, Beefy and
BroadS continued doggedly along the branch strewn, ultra shiggified
trail.
It was inevitable that weakened and weary warriors would
succumb to the treacherously slippery elements, Erica and three fallers
were duly hospitalised. Going Down reportedly went down and Fukarwi had
a famous slowmo, stuntman style tumble descending a steep trail -
rather you than me old buddy. Manpig's fall could have been very nasty
had it not been for his nose taking the full force of the jarring
impact. A wispy trail of blood from said hooter prompted a triumphant
cry: 'Bloodied hasher!'
All said and done, the FRBs just about
survived the mauling that had been dished out and mentioned in
dispatches were BroadS (advised by Coldtitz and Bobby that the 'urine
sample' joke was a quote too far though appreciated by Forrest) who
seemed to revel in the mud; WJ & Manopause who took the Mick
sprinting in to The Star's CP; Beefy with combat trousers who ran the
estimated 5 mile long and then cycled back home in the murk; Orienteers
Ben & Hugo somehow managed to discover a trail even before Melon P
had laid it; determined ladies Going Down and Coldtitz and pole assisted
Piddler who was going faster than some of the longs in that final
desperate mudbath of a track. Te saluto - I salute you all!
Inside The Star and TV had all of the eating area to themselves, leaving
the locals to enjoy their ale in peace. Landlord Brian had taken over
last September and with 40 years in the trade certainly knew his beer,
giving me a mini tutorial and insight into the tricks of the trade. We
were well looked after by Jess (the taller) and Amy. Despite being a
tied house (Heineken-Punch) stocking of beers was largely left to the
discretion of the landlord and Bombardier 4.1abv, Tribute 4.2abv and the
ale of choice Proper Job IPA 4.5abv were ours for the asking though the
Proper Job soon ran out!
DOWNDOWNS
RAd by Manpig, the following were awarded:
Joint DD for Soapy & Melon Picker
Forrest (Vampire Bat hat) to Shitfaced for being chuffed at kicking out his first ever check.
Shitfaced (Ceremonial Bat Hat) back to Forrest for reason unknown! (Strange that the word 'nepotism' was mentioned wasn't it Fukarwi?)
BB (Hashit Shirt) to Manpig for his (bloody) fall
RAd by Manpig, the following were awarded:
Joint DD for Soapy & Melon Picker
Forrest (Vampire Bat hat) to Shitfaced for being chuffed at kicking out his first ever check.
Shitfaced (Ceremonial Bat Hat) back to Forrest for reason unknown! (Strange that the word 'nepotism' was mentioned wasn't it Fukarwi?)
BB (Hashit Shirt) to Manpig for his (bloody) fall
Long after most of the hash had dispersed, a hard drinking core
(Shitfaced - naturally, Manopause, WJ, Erection, Slip on Me, 3sum &
Only Here - doubly naturally) remained and laughs galore were had. Yes,
another good Monday evening in Hash central.
Can I be brutally
honest with you my brethren? No? Well I will anyway. At the time, I had
a torrid (WJ liked that term) and tormented time out there which
delighted Soapy - grrr. However, looking back on it in the sober, harsh
light of day, my view has ameliorated. The harder the trail, the muddier
the trail, the longer the trail, the better I like it - despite this
particular edition being patently unsuitable and thankfully MP advised
against wearing the Nike EPIC gliders. The several off trail spurs were
cunning indeed and the technical expertise required for incorporating a
'live' hare was impressive so, yes, it was a very good trail hares and
set us up for a grand evening in a now hash-friendly OD. I'll leave you
with a little quote which you might recall from 1940:
'Never in the field of TV hashing were the hares seen by so many for so long' ... No? Well please...
* His namesake nag (Good Boy Bobby) had romped home earlier, swelling the beer kitty.
** Flying Orienteers of course
*** The Sorceror's Apprentice
** Flying Orienteers of course
*** The Sorceror's Apprentice
ON ON to next week and The Cridford Inn (TQ13 0NR) Trusham with Forrest Stump
