'NEVER MIND THE MARKS, FOLLOW THE TYRE TRACKS'

   Run #1840 Monday 17th August from Only Here for the Beer's abode in Coffinswell

'Second house down from the Linny, easy peasy lemon squeezy', I mused as I turned off the rat run to descend into Coffinswell once more. Oh Yes, Oh Dearly Have You Forgotten Already, I knew it well from the week before.

So Cruising past the Linny, I slowed as I got to where Only Here's abode should be, but no luck. Ah, it must be on the right and it was down, way way down into Daccombe before the dull-witted one realiz-ed it must be the Wong Wei. Oh well, I wuz early..

Abandoning the chariot by the Linny, I wander-ed down towards the church. As I was looking left, a booming voice came from on high: 'What are you doing Bluebird, there's plenty of parking up here!' The Grand Master and Mine Host Only Here, on Wally Watch, had spotted the hapless wretch who it seemed would have trouble getting out of his garden... sigh

And there 'twas - the Hash destination of our dreams. A cavernous off road parking area with a Park Inn sized garden to accommodate all and sun dry*. Hash heaven hallelujah, we're Shirley frying tonight.

Forrest and his faithful mutt felt lucky and had decided on an away day from Dearest Dingly Dell deep in the Teign Valley. That man with the suntan and everlasting smile, 69, dropped by from Haytor way - high five perhaps no but elbow collideroo yes.  After many (well documented and avidly followed) adventures, Strap-On finally escaped the confines of Abbotskerswell to return to the fold along with SM Ellie, Just Coming (or Cums Too Late, take your pick) and Stung Down Under. Wetfart made his by now de rigueur flying visit and that rare bird, 'you can survive without Facebook', Able, tracked us down via the website at www.teignvalleyh3.com..

Here then, Oh Dearly Why Doesn't He Get on With It, is the roll of honour from #1840:

GM Shitfaced, Piltdown, Beefy, Flasher, Plonker, Artful Dogger, Wetfart, SM Ellie, Coldtits, T Humper, I-Poo'd, Just Coming, Forrest, Manpig, Screwed, Stung Down Under, Pisswell, Strap-on, #69, BB, Archangel, Able, Only Here and Dog End.

As last week, no circle and hashers rocked and rolled when ready.  The flying FRBs Hit The Road (Jack) first with Artful Dogger and the Bird in their slipstream. Straight on up into Only Here's private lane and his grand 280 acre estate the advance guard cruised with the perennial longs and hard as nails hashers, Manpig and Beefy setting off in arrears.

Hard a port into a barley field and the rapido tuxedoes left the Bird trailing in their wake. But Only Here had his first snare in place and over the brow of the field the FRBs came to a juddering halt.

Oh rampant was the confusion that ensued and we had only gone a quarter of a mile, what fun what fun.  Artful by name and by deed, the Artful Dogger had kept the faith and was seen merrily dashing around the barley above us. The awful truth dawned and a hashing technical term was screamed by a berserker: 'Silly sod! Back troops!' It was a complete circuit of Only Here's barley field but Flasher and Plonker stood for it and played the game though someone did not - though the culprit could not be identified with any certainty.

 

Into a sloping meadow and the hares' awful design became clear - the trail was laid around the perimeter of Farmer Beer's fields and Farmer Beer was so proud of his fields that he wished us to examine all of them.

The Artful one soon cottoned on: 'Never mind the marks, follow the tyre tracks!' Oh Yes, Oh Dearly The Game's Up, the trail had been laid from Only Here's truck, driven by Dog End whilst Only Here flour bombed from the passenger seat....sigh

Descending to the Auld Empty Barn, Flasher called back to Artful in the field above: 'Make sure you go round the field!' And Beefy was only about fifty yards away but actually two fields distant on the bewildering helter-skelter configured trail.

Surprisingly, no one seemed to have picked up that the Bird is the word had shamelessly continued short-cutting and excusing the outrage with a plaintive wailing of: 'Sorry lads, but I'm very old!'

At last we tumbled out onto the blessed tarmac and headed off into the boondocks down Daccombe way.  The last time Flasher and Plonker were sighted was at the three mile mark betwixt the Orestone and Killpark Plantations below Fluder Hill.  From then on it was a wild and lonely meander back to the beer. If I knew then what I discovered after, I might not have ventured up the last iniquitous (for me but hash-friendly terrain for the hardy) long split. Fear of death (and no beer) forced a virtual walk the last mile and there was many a furtive look over mine shoulder to see if Beefy and Manpig were coming to claim Despicable Me.

Nearly home and two hashers loomed large - Strap-On and SM Ellie though I was too far gone to speak. Then charging towards me were Flasher and Plonker who were determined to make a 10K out of it. Good luck lads, 5.4 miles is good enough - show me the beer..

A supply of Proper Job, a chance to catch up on all the gossip, fairy lights, food supplied by Dog End, Oh Yes, we had it all. 

Offers for forthcoming hash trails and venues were pledged and with fingers tightly crossed, a fervent hope that we can keep on trucking...

Thanks Only Here and Dog End (who knew that the longs would want a gallop), it was a lot of work for but six longs (I think) but we really loved the trail - it had something to cater for all tastes and after surviving that last off-road section, we really earned our beer - as did the shorts and walkers out there.

ON ON to next week from the Lord Nelson at Kingskerswell with Manpig as hare.

*Sundry you fools