TEAPOT ENTERS THE TEIGN VALLEY HALL OF FAME

Run #1881 Monday 13th September from the Wellington Inn at Ipplepen with Wet Johnny

 

The Bird was decidedly not well. A lingering afternoon malaise prompted an early excursion to Ipplepen for a warm-up jog to check the lawnmower out. The warm-up failed to dispel fears as forward momentum barely was gained and a tightening chest was somewhat alarming. A jeering Wet Johnny and Erection drove past with a 'Come on Bluebird, get a move on!' Thanks lads, that's cheered me up no end.

 

So Cruise, was this finally it, would my Waterloo arrive at the Wellington with Wet Johnny? [oh come on, Shirley sic]..

 

Steady and unrelenting rain commenced at the circle and a jolly crowd continued to grow in numbers as a despondent Bird looked on. It looked like it was going to be great fun but now participation seemed unlikely. Pisswell didn't like the look of the Bird - as usual - and recommended an early beer for the Bird brain. Beefy - yes, he was back (!) was also a bit concerned as any misfortune to the Bird would likely include him..

 

To run or not to run, that Shirley was the question Oh Dearly Why Don't You Get on With It?

Ultimately it was a case of 'A Bird's gotta do what a BIrd's gotta do' and the blood red singlet and racing Hokas were donned for what was Shirley going to be another Wet Johnny epic!

 

A former trail recall might be helpful before I pass you over to our Roving Reporter Man-Pig (who looked decidedly rough around the edges after a marathon beer boxing bout on Saturday) to relate the trail tale:

 

Run # 1779 Monday 28th January 2019 from the Court Farm Inn at Abbotskerswell with Hares: Only Here/Beer & Shitfaced

Somewhere in the closing stages of the run (you have to give the hares a lot of credit for laying a good, tough, honest trail) came the shocking moment...

A few yards in front, Fukarwi stopped and gazed at a strange hash mark, marked thus: ƎꓤIM . 'You'll have to help me with this one, oh Belfry Bat, it looks like Greek lettering!' The two idiots stared at the odd lettering for a few moments until walking around it, the mark was revealed quite clearly as: WIRE. 'Fukarwi, it reads wire for gawd's sake!' An electrified fence appeared in front of the aged duo, prompting a now belligerent Bat to exclaim: 'Anyway it can't be switched on, the hare would be mad to let us pass!' Reaching out a moist, clammy hand, the Bat clasped the wire and receiving a hefty jolt was thrown onto his back! You had to have been there to see it, believe me, oh you long suffering readers.. for I too suffered out there - the price to pay for being the Greatest Pillock that TVH has ever seen.

 

Drum roll now as the circle roll call cascades down your screens:

 

(Will have omissions as I was not feeling too good}

GM Shitfaced, Piltdown, Georgie, Teapot, Artful Dogger back after an absence, SM Ellie, Erection, Wet Johnny, 69, Coldtits, Rambo, Wetfart, Beefy (hurrah!), Pisswell, 3Sum, T Humper Birthday Girl, I-Poo'd, Lady Jane, Manpig, Big End, Mouldy, Archangel, Carl and Swinger, Alexis, Julie, Birthday Boy Forrest, Able, Strap-On, Triple Jump, Screwed and Bella, a stray Land Ho! hasher and an assortment of Mini-Penners - Harry, Mason etc etc making the 39 Steps according to Piltdown.

Are you sitting comfortably, then take it away Manpig please:

 

MAYDAY-MAYDAY by our Roving Reporter Man-Pig

No. It is not May. It is September and, despite a poor summer, this was our first damp run since Bobbiball's soggy sausage sandwiches back in June. The weather didn't perturb the dedicated throng of enthusiastic hashers from seeking out the wet weather gear and sallying forth. Well, most hashers anyway. Bluebird and Beefy clearly thought that it was still summer and opted for sleeveless vests only. Sixty-Niner's deferment to the drizzle consisted of the adornment of a white baseball cap and Piltdown Man appeared to believe that he was still on Teignmouth back-beach by wandering around the car park bare foot. Carl and Swinger saw the wet weather as a challenge to take their motorcycle to the hash......no point in having all that wet weather motorcycle gear if you never use it.

 

There was no car parking ballet or pirouettes this week and everyone secured a parking space with ease. Even the late arriving Forrest-Stump who managed to avoid locking himself out of his car this time.

So, what would the Hare have in store for us this week? Wet-Johnny's trails are always looked forward to but it was inevitable that the Long would be, well, Long. And so it proved to be. Later, Beefy's techno-wizardry was produced as evidence in court to prove that the Hare's 6 mile Long was, in fact, 6.99 miles. No virgins. A Long. A Short and a Walkers' trail around Orly Common.....simples!

Walkers exited the pub car park turning immediately right and onto Orly Road. For the rest of us, it was straight across and onto Clampitt Road. Where the road bared left most hashers ran straight on along the footpath following what appeared to be very large splashes of flour on the walls. On closer inspection this turned out to be very poor paintwork. Eagle-eyed Alexa, together with Screwed and Bella, were able to distinguish the difference between paint and flour. They soon had us back on trail on Clampitt Road and the first check at the junction with Croft Road and Blackstone Road - Bird left, Beefy straight on, Pig right onto Blackstone Road, "On-On".

 

At the next junction Blackstone Road joined Conniford Lane and an arrow directed us right to Beltor Cross where another arrow directed us southeast onto Biltor Road. But only for 30 metres. Another arrow took us over a stile and into a field where the FRB's ground to a halt. Any public right of way across this filed was blocked by an non-electrified electric fence. "How did we know it was that the fence wasn't live?" I hear you ask. Well, someone was stupid enough to grab it to find out. Any guesses on who that might have been? Answers on a postcard please marked for the attention of the GM.

 

Our failure to rustle up a Kentucky Fried Bird saw the FRB's navigate under, over or around the non-electric fence in search of some non-existent marks. By this time, insider knowledge had arrived in the form of the mini-Penners. They merrily galloped across the field, belly-danced their way under the new fencing and guided the aimless to the exit stile. Without their insight, I think we'd still be there. It was certainly not an obvious public footpath. This was due to the barriers in the form of both the temporary and permanent fencing that conspired to halt the Hash. This was pretty much the last time that the FRB's would see the rest of the hash as, from here on in, we were going to get somewhat strung out..............some further than others!

 

Exiting onto Edgelands Lane, another arrow saw us recrossing Conniford Lane before being directed down an alleyway that took us onto Biltor Road near Ipplepen primary school. This was familiar ground. Beefy led the FRB's down Orly Road and left into Orly Woods with Bluebird at his heels. Man-Pig and Big End weren't far behind. It wasn't long before the trees extinguished pretty much all daylight. At the L/S and Walkers' split it was definitely torch time. The Longs and the Shorts skirted around the edge of the woods and it wasn't long before we caught up with the Walkers; birthday girl T-Humper and iPoo'd (on Lap 1 of 2!) shortly followed by Rambo......who turned out not to be on the Walkers' trail at all. He was on the LONG......eeeeeeeeeeek!

 

Back on the black stuff it was downhill and sharp right towards Torbryan. I had foolishly selected my summer trainers as the evening's footwear of choice. Badamistakatomaka. They have FA grip on stony surfaces and slippery tree roots. My progress in the woods had been seriously compromised. The net result was that Beefy, Bluebird and Big-End were now way, way ahead of me. The marks were good though and it wasn't long before an arrow pointed us along the well hashed path that takes us up past the Old Rectory.

 

The Old Rectory is a large early Victorian house with beautiful huge gardens and a stream running through it. It's only downside is having a public footpath running straight through the middle of it with noisy hashers running through shouting "On-On" in the middle of the night! The public footpath veers off to the right, crosses a stile and then a diagonal track across a grassy field before another stile accesses the road at Tornewton. Again there were plenty of dots and we turned right towards Wrenwell Cross. After 100 meters a check, but it had not been kicked out. "Are you?" "On-On" came the reply from far off yonder in the direction of the public footpath that leads towards Denbury.

 

I wandered over the the stile and, sure enough, 400 yards distant - three lights! My relief that the FRB's were, at least, within sight was somewhat stymied by the realisation that I would never make up the 400 yard shortfall.......or could I? I was, after all, pursuing TVH's Birdbrain. He's had more Pillock of the Year awards than anyone else and he does have a recurring habit of going "wongwei". A quick prayer for some divine intervention that would hobble the FRB's. Over the stile. Follow the lights that had now exited the field. However, I could just discern their shadows being cast moving down the lane towards Wrenwrell Cross. This was nothing more than a dogleg! I thought about short-cutting and realised that I would only be cheating myself. Oh well, probably a lonely last 2 miles. But, let's see?

 

The check at Wrenwell Cross had been kicked out. But not very well. It could easily have been either left or straight ahead. I gambled left. One. Two. Three marks. "On-On" I shouted, not expecting a response. "On-On" was the reply; not too far ahead and certainly to my right. It was definitely Beefy. Then, lights coming towards me. It was Bluebird and Big-End. They'd overshot a concealed footpath to our right and continued "wong-wei". Divine providence. Beefy, Bluebird, Big-End and Man-Pig were reunited for the first time in three miles as we negotiated the narrow fenced footpath that took us along the edge of a campsite and to the sweetie stop. After our sugar-rush, Wet-Johnny directed us left towards Ipplepen......all road now but we could short-cut down Beech Trees Lane if we so desired.

 

The drizzle continued unabated. However, we'd kept up a good pace and the damp on our faces was very welcome as Beefy took up pole position. Big-End, the Bird and the Pig were all evenly paced but, as always, not quite in Beefy's league. The option to shortcut at Beech Trees Lane was tempting but we stuck to the marks. We would be turning right at Denbury Cross for the final half mile trot back to the pub......or so we thought. At Denbury Cross we came to the last of the Long/Short splits. "Feck that!" This was plain uncharitable. Resolved to do the full trail, we followed in Beefy's wake till we reached Dornafield Cross. Then it was right and, predominantly, downhill back to the pub.

 

Well done WJ. Another excellent trail that gave us a good workout. But, where was Rambo?

 

Where indeed MP, here are some one-liner recollections of the evening:

 

Those cavorting mini-Penners dancing here and there and who reportedly did the long!

Beefy, lethally quick - as usual.

 

Déjà vu at the electric farm-stock wire as Manpig waited for some idiot to see if it was live..

 

Hugely relieved that I could run and stealing a march on MP in Orly woods despite sliding in road flats.

 

Having to stop for the huge St Bernard who barred my way by the Old Rectory - fortunately the owner was there.

 

Two head torches relentlessly closing from behind - Beefy and Big End who had paused for a pit stop.

Wong Wei strikes again - just as MP predicted..

 

'You did kick out the check, Bluebird?' 'Err no..'

 

Manpig inexorably and inevitably fighting his way back to the front-running Beefy, Big End and Bird.

 

Coldtits and 69 traversing the short and 3.65 miles with no trail deviations.

 

Alexis who had a fun time out there if her Strava comment is anything to go by:

 

'Chronic indigestion, heavy rain, pitch dark, totally lost..... nothing not to love really!'

 

Wellington had Doom on draft or bottled Doom with 4X in reserve at £4.20 agogo.

 

Waiting for Godot in injury time as white knight and white becharioted Wet Johnny sallied forth on a rescue mission.

 

'Godot' returns.

 

Getting into bad company with the Penners Four - WJ, Erection, Roxanne and Manopause. Think they had been given the keys to lock up and are possibly still there..

 

DOWNDOWNS

After a little prevarication, Piltdown awarded the Hashit shirt to Mouldy for being suspicious enough to have taken his shoes - I think. Exhibition DD by a former downdown champion!

 

Piltdown (again) awarded the Viking Jester's hat to our rather surprised hare WJ for the On Home marker which apparently took hashers round in circles... what?

 

Loudly did the mad macaw mocking Bird screech when Forrest brazenly retained the homing Horse head hat for two reasons: He had gone Wong Wei astray and it was his birthday away day..

 

Arriving after the badge awards, Strap-On was still in time to award Swinger the Checkin' Chicken hat for not bringing a head torch and then mistaking Manpig for Wet Johnny - in broad daylight! I don't know Sooty, what do you think Sweep...

 

RUN BADGES

Three 100 run badges were presented to Erection, Manopause and I-Poo'd.

 

A massive 1200 Run Badge for our esteemed senior RA organizer Teapot who joins these other Teign Valley greats:

 

Doris 1400 runs at #1796, Rambo 1300 runs #1719 and Wigwam also 1200 runs #1769,

Winfield 1100 runs #1754, Wetfart 1000 runs #1779

 

POSTSCRIPT

Wet Johnny set a right royal rollicking trail and sneaky indeed were the twists and turns along the nigh on seven mile multi-terrain circuit of discovery.

 

By Odin's Oath, it was Shirley tough as teak out there and I seriously considered veering off right for the last short split until Big End encouraged me back onto the long. Whoa! Wet Johnny!

 

ON ON to next week and the Manor Inn at Galmpton with U Bend.