Run #1797 Monday 3rd June at Cold East Cross, Dartmoor with Pisswell. OD The Rugglestone Inn
Come on Dusty, let's hear it:
Where does the trail lie
In the middle of nowhere
Will it soon pass me by
In the middle of nowhere
Back to the
bleak but beautiful moor it was and the desolate clearing posing as a
car park at the inhospitably named Cold East Cross. This then, Oh Dearly
Beloved Groundhog Day Lovers, was the first edition of the Rugglestone
Diaries as Shirley we would be back again the following week Oh Dearly
This Has Not Happened In Ages.. But never mind, ever onwards to the
action - and there was to be plenty of it.
Breasting
the rise above the cross and chariots could be seen in the distance,
clustered protectively together and looking for all the world like wild
west wagons awaiting the indian attack.
They came from afar and the faithful few were joined by many:
Pisswell,
daughter Jessie, virgin Paddy, Teapot, Able, Wigwam, BB, Hotlips &
Zoot, Soapy & Melon Picker, Twinkletoes, Poacher, Rambo & Doris,
Beefy, BroadS, SM Ellie, Manpig, Manopause, Erection, 69, a very
strong Polish contingent: Pan Fart, Abscess, Anita, Gosia, Mother - she
came back, a mum like her* + 3 virgins, Shitfaced, I-Poo'd, Piltdown
& Georgy, Winfield, SatNav, Runner Bean, Plonker and Oliver,
Coldtits, Pork Torpedo & Hornie, Hagen Daz & Harry, Slip on Me,
Twin Buffers, late arriving Polyfella and even later Archangel. Forty
eight listed but believe fifty recorded.
Pisswell
divulged that she'd had a message from above - the Archangel Gabriel no
less - and she had written down her own Commandments for the upcoming
run - most of which were in the deadly Devon
dialect - the most important detail being that the marks were always on
the right. This vital snippet would ensure that Beefy and I at least
would not go too far astray, Oh Dearly Observant...
And we were
set loose from the Cold East calaboose, but things were not going to go
as planned and a strawberry flavoured yoghurt sent it spinning from
his hand..
There were
some fast boys (and girls) out there and the combination of rough
running uphill soon had the bird a staggering 'n' gasping. The trail
was briefly lost at the foot of Buckland Beacon which not only
re-enabled contact with the FRBs but also for the 'hashers of a lesser god' who swept by much to the frustration of the bested bird.
The final
nail in the coffin was the technical** descent from the beacon into the
valley far below. The taunting cries from Manopause gradually receded
and then the FRBs had flown - Vaya con dios muchachos.
Over to you again, Dusty:
Are you gonna to leave me
And leave hashers to go astray
I'm in the middle of nowhere
Come and show me the way
A little
respite was given encountering the welcome tarmac en route to Buckland
in the Moor and no more ground was lost. And there were the marks
leading into St Peters Church and the Bird is the Word paused for a moment to ask: 'Can I have more road please!' as by now he had tired of Wandering Lonely as a Cloud.
The
plaintive plea was immediately answered and leaving the church there it
was - the surfin' Bird's salvation - yes Oh Dearly Will be Revenged -
the mile long Elliots Hill. Oh Hallelujah baby!
What a hill
it was Elvis, such a hill that could be run right to the summit and it
was a game changer. A shout from behind, good gawd, it was Plonker and
Runner Bean who Shirley had gone Pete Tong big time HA!
Then around
a bend, the blue vested Manopause appeared (long time no see old buddy)
which elicited a veritable banshee screech from the Bird who was now so
hot he was practically on fire. A little further up the hill, Paddy
heard the demented wail and turning to running partner Jessie muttered:
'I don't know who that is, but I don't want him to catch us up!' and
the pair fled for their very lives and sanity..
Meanwhile, the longs were having their own adventures. Manpig had joined up with BroadS and SM Ellie and somehow they
had managed to get onto the short trail which, after retracing their
steps, left them over a mile adrift of the longs. En routey, Manpig
happened upon a sad scene - a bedraggled t' t' teddy bear with red bow
lying forlornly on the ground. Manpig, his heart strings tugged and a
melancholy banjo twanging, just couldn't bear [sic] to leave him alone
on the savage moor with night approaching. Gently placing teddy on a
wall outside a house, the trio resumed the trail. If you are reading
this perchance, Teddy, drop us a line to tell us you're safe..
Elliots
Farm passed and a mile up into the clouds we hit the moor again, racing
the fleeting rain to the magical SS manned by Pisswell and Slip on Me.
There were marshmallows toasting by an open fire and an array of
beverages to tempt and please and that we Shirley were before climbing
back to Cold East Cross and a six miler bagged. Manpig, BroadS and SM
Ellie outdid us all by recording a Magnificent Seven courtesy of their
detour.
It was a
struggle to get to the Ruggle and there was chariot carnage at the
first signpost as the Penners rocked and nearly rolled reversing back on
course - but I didn't rat you out lads.
Nine o'clock had long retreated and it had turned a tad chilly, Oh Dearly Turn Your
Collars Up and huddled hashers braved the elements in the beer garden
whilst the savvy few lingered in the tiny bar to sample the Teignworthy
and Legend (a cracking £3.40 a gogo) before being summoned outside for
the downdowns.
DOWNDOWNS & AWARDS presented by Pork Torpedo
#1797 Mon at Cold East Cross Dartmoor where Hare Pisswell had
laid a great trail around the moor finishing with the OD at The
Rugglestone Inn Widecombe where the Down-Down Awards were presented to
.....
VIRGIN Hasher OLIVER for going astray, nearly losing his shoe in the bog! now safely wearing wellingtons!!
GM SHITFACED for pinching that story from Beefy!
COLDTIZ for arriving early and not getting lost on the moor this time!
ERECTION for his badge on reaching 50 Runs with TVH3
POLYFELLA who at last received his 200 Runs Badge!
* Calvera to Chris: The Magnificent Seven (1960)
** Technical only for old timers
After the DDs and going to the bar for a refill, I found that Archangel had arrived and had completed Pisswell's six miler coming across quite a few hashers along the way. Unheralded yes but not now unsung.
It was quite a test, given my condition, but the trail was a winner and had something for everyone to enjoy. Running alone, I could actually focus on
the beautiful surroundings more and most of it was new to me. Thanks
ever so much Pisswell and Slip on Me, all power to your marshmallows.
ON ON to next week and Circle up from Bone Hill Rocks Dartmoor (SX 732775) OD The Rugglestone Inn (second edition) (Poacher)
