Run #1850 Monday 26th October from the Park Inn, Kingskerswell with hare I-Poo'd's Birthday trail
'๐ป๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
,
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ป๐๐๐'๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
, ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐'๐ ๐๐๐๐ '๐๐ ๐๐๐...'
Back to Headquarters for I-Pood's Birthday hash and an oasis hiatus in the curtain of autumnal depressions.
Prove to me that you're no fool* and recall those present:
GM
Shitfaced, Piltdown, Teapot, 3Sum, Gag4It, Triple Jump, Brenda,
Fukarwi, Roxanne, Harry, Wet Johnny, Gianluca, Big End, Small End, Ned,
Well Hopped, Dad, I-Poo'd, T Humper, Archangel, Wiggy, Beefy, ManPig,
SM Ellie, Slip on Me, Coldtits and special celebrity visit (and run)
of Poacher and wingman Compo. Bobby Woll** arrived aprรจs trail for a diesel top-up.
Arriving
late at the circle - test jog to see if it was possible to run -
darkened figures were assembled for the pep talk and only a brief
opportunity to check who was there. A number of tiny hashers were
evident: Roxanne with Harry; Wet Johnny had brought along another
Mini-Me - Gianluca and likewise Big End with a Small End (never did find
out the nerd name).
A
hashing milestone at #1850 and the expectant huddle half thought a tee
shirt would be on offer, but the GM only celebrated the hashing landmark
with a question about the first university to run a X country, Oh
Dearly Robbed of a Memento..
Over
to the hare(s) and a couple of stark warnings which sharpened the
senses: Livestock in a field and the best angle of attack plus a stile
that might ๐๐ป๐ฑ ๐ผ๐ณ ๐๐ฎ๐๐ (1999 Arnie) for the unwary.
The
Go With Thy God was slightly anticipated by a pumped up and warmed up
Bird who flew the coop (liked that so much last week, thought I'd try it
again) and took wing down the hill, ignoring the vet's warning of a
possible coronary.
With
ears flat back and eyes narrowed, he waited for the Assassin to
inevitably pass, not knowing that Wet Johnny would not be playing
tonight, but having a day off training a wannabe assassin.
It
was familiar territory down across the railway line and hard a port
heading south up to the South Devon Highway flyover, safari so good,
muchachos.
The
footfalls and the flickering torches astern closed up as we crested the
flyover and the L/S walkers split mark was espied. Thank you I-Poo'd,
relief at not turning off into the shiggy either side and all hail the
hill, Harry.
The
tiny troops and hashing dads were formed up and Fukarwi - he that is
patently lacking in fitness Shirley, was able to tag along for the ride.
Up
and ever upwards ManPig, Beefy and the Bird endured and a windmill was
mentioned by ManPig which seemed a good place to build one - on top of a
mountain..
Breasting the summit and then:
๐จ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐จ-๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ ๐
๐๐๐
Come on, singalong with Johnny Cash and the Ghost Hashers in the Sky:
๐ป๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ป๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐..
๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐ฎ๐๐๐๐ ๐ฏ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐...
Didulikethat? No? Well I did anyway.
Warily
did the dread three steer [sic] past the mighty herd, but hold hard
Harry, the next obstacle loom-ed large - the fearsome stone drop stile
AKA Becher's Brook on the National course at Aintree. The hashers with
hooves of steel leapt over with alacrity but the delicate one hesitated,
sensing, as always, his imminent demise and had to be assisted by
Beefy.
The entrance to Compton Castle appeared on the left as we changed direction and the promise of the Gun Dog urged us onwards.
Glancing
back, Beefy's light had disappeared and the thought was that his knee
injury had forced an abandon, so it was a relief that he appeared
safely a short time after the finish.
ManPig
was on a mission and pushed on. Suddenly, a harriet appeared from the
right hand track - it was SM Ellie and I stopped for a quick 'We must
stop meeting like this..' and ManPig was quickly fifty yards to the good
and going for glory. Into Snakey Copse and there, in the distance, was
another short trail hasher and he was going pretty well.
For
a moment I thought it was Big End (same blue jacket), but as I closed,
found it was Wiggy who confirmed later that for a few moments out
there, he felt he was going great guns.
Ming
the Merciless ManPig wasn't going to let 10 Grand Prix points slip from
his grasp and continued to pour it on - right into his chateau which
was most handily placed for a quick wash 'n' brush up.
There
was no hiding from the all-seeing eye in the sky GPS, which revealed a
possible Wong Wei by dear Coldtits nearing the end of her run.
Arriving back at the railway bridge near the church, she embarked on
another lap before eventually turning back.
Shirley
Suspicion fell on the Bird when he arriv-ed back alone at the Park
fifty minutes after departure. 'Did you see the castle?' enquired 3Sum
to wit the reply from the dim-witted one [sic] was 'What castle? ...sigh
Now for a well-earned Gun Dog. Over and out for now, Oh Long Suffering Readers.
*And walk across my swimming pool - from the 1970 rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar.
**Sad news that the real Bobby Ball passed away this very evening.
**Sad news that the real Bobby Ball passed away this very evening.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
Testing
and well laid trails, with all tastes catered for and a lot of work put
in by I-Poo'd and company. The shorts at 4.19 miles (courtesy of
Coldtits Strava) was only a mile shorter than the longs so they are to
be congratulated on their efforts out there. The walking trail was an
interesting figure of eight 1.47 miles (courtesy of 3Sums Strava).
The
individuals that dropped by into the Park were particularly well
looked after by a very hard working and attentive Park 'n' Ride - thank
you 'Dad'! Some great photos posted of I-Poo'd enjoying laying the
trail and a very Happy Birthday to you from everyone with thanks for all
your efforts. In closing, a good time had by all and it was good to
see Poacher again, cheers my old son.
๐๐ ๐๐ with everlasting hope in our hearts to next week from the Wellington Inn at Ipplepen with hare Wet Johnny.
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