Run #1884 Monday 4th October from the Red Rock Brewery with Well Hopped & Big End
Roll call:
GM
Shitfaced, Piltdown, Georgie, SM Ellie, Wet Johnny, Manopause,
Erection, Swinger, virgin Matt, Hotlips, Zoot, Paul, virgin Jenny,
Coldtits, Rambo, Kelvin, Man-Pig, Ali, 3Sum, Satnav, Strap-On, Big End,
Well Hopped and little Emma, Beefy, Pisswell, Alexis, Wetfart,
Archangel, Gaga4It, BB making a Dirty Gertie thirty Braveheart hashers.
THE SANE VERSION of the trail words by Man-Pig
Well,
at least we didn't get wet. The forecast rainstorm held off pretty much
until all hashers had returned from whence they came. Even 'the perfect
10" Pisswell made it back before the Heaven's opened. The weather only
really presented a problem for those trying to access their cars after
9.45pm as it was raining cats and dogs by then.....blustery too.
So
what happened out there? Bluebird and I looked at each other in the bar
across a half-eaten pasty. "What did you see on tonight's trail
Man-Pig?" "Ermmm."
"What
all, Man-Pig?" did the Bird ask. "I stayed with Kelvin and Pollyfella.
Didn't see a thing. Well, at least I saw Kelvin and Polyfella I
suppose".
This
might have proved to be more than blind-as-a-bat Bluebird had seen. In
an attempt to avoid a repeat of last year's fall, the Bird deviated off
trail to escape the descent on the steep footpath that leads from just
south of Colway Cross and exits onto the bottom of Forder Lane in
Bishopsteignton. I may have only seen two other hashers on trail but
that's better than none! I wonder if Bluebird saw more than two hashers
out there?
Big
End invited us back to the Red Rock Brewery for his second lay for
TVH3. This time a solo lay sans l'assistance de Bien Hopped. Solo lays
can be hard work, especially when Sunday's copious marks have been
washed out by Monday's mini-monsoon. So well done to Big End for
re-laying significant parts of the trail just before our 7.15 departure
time (in 26 years of hashing with TVH3 we have never commenced the trail
at 7.15!). Instructions were simple: "I've relaid some of it. If you
don't see a mark, continue in a straight line!". What could possibly go
wrong?
The
only announcement in the circle concerned who had, and had not,
pre-ordered a pint and a pasty. Swinger advised that Carl had
pre-ordered a pasty and a pint but couldn't make the Hash. Manopause was
the first to pounce and gobble up the opportunity of a second
pasty....he'll grow up to be a big boy. His Mum would be proud of him. I
think there were mumbles of 4 miles for the Shorts; under 6 for the
Longs and a Walkers' trail. Back down the driveway. Longs to the right.
Shorts and Walkers to the Left.
Bluebird,
apparently fully recovered from last weeks' near death experience, shot
off and ignored the first check as he careered down Humber Lane. Wet
Johnny checked right, up Humber Lane. Man-Pig, in third place after 150
yards, followed the Bird knowing full well that he would have had a
crafty reconnoiter of the trail beforehand. And so it proved to be.
Three clear new dots and then an arrow that took us along a Hare's
favourite track in this neck of the woods. Exiting at Colway Cross, the
Bird's reconnaissance went awry....or so I thought. The Bird flew
straight across whilst an arrow directed FRB's Wet Johnny, Beefy,
Man-Pig, Kelvin and Polyfella to the right. Swinger could not have been
far behind as I had heard a female voice behind me for most of the first
mile. That voice disappeared as another (new) arrow pointed us down the
steep and slippery footpath to the bottom of Forder Lane.
By
the time we hit Forder Lane, Beefy and Wet Johnny were well gone and I
only had Pollyfella and, the usually very fast, Kelvin from Plymouth for
company (great effort to travel all this way to join us, especially
given the weather forecast!).
As
we climbed up Forder Lane, I did wonder if another mishap had befallen
the Bird. I was oblivious to his alternative route Avoiding Low Bridge
and slippery descent. "I was not going down there again" screeched the
Bird later on in the pub.
A
short way up Forder Lane, we came to the Walkers and Long/Shorts'
split. The Walkers taking a left up Great Furlong, or was it Murwell
Crescent? Never mind. The Longs and the Shorts carried on up Forder Lane
till another arrow took us left and up West Street; straight across and
onto Berry Hill, past a pub (I'm sure this pub had been renamed) and a
quick left and right onto a public footpath. For those of us who knew
where we were, we knew what was to come. Over 100 metres (330 feet) of
unending ascent to Beacon Copse. In the far distance, I could see the
shadows of a torchlight bouncing off the trees. This must be a hasher.
One of the Shorts, I suspected or maybe Beefy or Wet Johnny? The dancing
beam must have been a good 300 yards distant. It later transpired that
these flickering lights emanated from none other than the Bird's
head-torch....Short Cutting B*****d!
Rejoining
tarmac another arrow. Right this time and up towards Teignmouth Golf
Course. At White Well (another copse) a Long/Short split took the Longs
into the copse and a loop that brought us out near the picnic tables
where Bobbiball had his birthday drinks back in May. A distinct absence
of marks meant that we had to rely on local boy (or should that be
parrot?) Pollyfella. A left for about 150 yards before turning right
towards Little Haldon. After 400 yards it was left and onto Three Trees
Lane. A nice, but potentially treacherous, descent down a badly
dilapidated track that had once been a tarmac road. Eventually we came
to a proper road. Lo and behold, we were back on Humber Lane yet again.
Left and left again and were back at the brewery and........relatively
dry!
Thank you MP and now:
FLIGHT OF FANCY (INSANE) VERSION
When all at once a mighty herd
Of red eyed cows they saw..
Oh
Yes, Oh Dearly Beloved, the Shorts and Walkers Shirley got a surprise
when they embarked on their Teddy Bears' Picnic from the Red Rock Baby
Ranch House Monday evening under the threatening clouds ..
Now
before we continue any further into what may well be a flight of fancy,
I feel I must issue a disclaimer about the events that follow which may
bear no relation to the actual events that took place on Run #1884.
Supping
my £3.20 Red Rock Baby, I listened in awe to trail tales being spun -
notably by Manopause - but was he talking about tonight's trail? I leave
you, Dear Readers, to decide the fact of the matter...
Now where was I, ah yes, the Teddy Bears' picnic horror:
In
abject terror the shorts and walkers fled, no match for the mighty
stampeding herd of red eyed cows that bore down on them. All hashers
were Shirley fully paid-up members of the Self Preservation Society and
thereupon scattered to seek whatever cover that could be found out there
in the wilds of Red Rock Baby country - behind trees, up telegraph
poles, it didn't matter - all they wanted was to survive the encounter
and get back to the Red Rock Baby for their Pint and Pasty offer at a
projected bargain £5.50 agogo..
Their
formidable leader, man-o-war Manopause, stood his ground unblinking in
the face of what was Shirley certain destruction. Half a second later,
the man-o-war blinked and dived for cover.
Meanwhile,
at the crossroads where the longs, shorts and walkers would so
cunningly converge, Big End waited, confident that the plan - and the
hash - would come together. But no cigar for his starter for ten as the
longs charged out of the lane.. Shirley it couldn't have gone belly up
already...
Back
at Custer's Last Stand and the mighty herd had thundered past leaving
the shattered remnants of the shorts and walkers to regroup before
sallying forth once more. The Pasty and Pint, projected at a bargain
£5.50 the only beacon of hope back at the Red Rock Baby ranch-house.
The
Bird, wearing his beloved only good on road Hoka Mach 4's and already
mauled by the off-road section, entered a plea of insanity and asked the
hare for mercy.
The
quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from
heaven and thus the Bird was spared further punishment and directed
down, way, way down into the village to Shirley head the longs off at
the pass, Percy. HA!
And
now, to prove to you that I'm no fool, I'll walk across your swimming
pool. The first of two hardly credible tales on this doom-laden Fight
for Your Pint and Pasty hash, I give you Walkabout (1971) Part 2 (Part 1,
even more implausible, had already taken place). Alexis missed the left
turn for the Descent of Death and continued all the way down to the
Newton road before finally conceding that the hare's fateful final words
did not apply here:
'If you don't see any marks, keep straight on....' long sigh. But never mind, a seven mile plus trail bagged. Shirley shades of Coldtits Court Farm Inn Wong Wei here.
Dodging
the Descent of Death, the Bird glided serenely down into suburban
Bishopsteignton, Humming bird as he went. But thoughts of having a big
lead evaporated when FRB calls could be heard in the distance. Wet
Johnny and Beefy probably - but would they be pleased to see the Bird
again? Possibly not.
Still
on tarmac true but a climb to ye Olde Commercial Inn and a curious set
of marks which left the Bird brain bewildered. An arrow pointing
straight up the hill but to the left another set of marks: an arrow with
O/R. Off-road, decided the Bird. 'That'll cramp their style Shirley!'
and the Bird fled upwards, blissfully unaware that it was a road
surveyor's mark he had seen... sigh.
A
quick bugle Bird blast and then the FRB's swallowed him up. Ah, the
pain of the near vertical climb on slippery field and furrow. Nearing
the summit, a faint light was glimpsed behind, far below - Man-Pig!
Anxiously, the Bird pressed on, waving to be-cycled Big End who was out
and about, shepherding his flock.
Adventure
aplenty was to be found and Beefy was sighted looking down into the
woods for Wet Johnny who had gone astray on a lower path. The Bobbiball
beer table loom-ed and the Bird didn't like the look of the next
tortuous off-road section. 'I'll track you from the golf course road
lads.' Beefy, tiring of the Bird's Hoka hokum exclaimed: 'You'd better
wear your trail shoes next week!'
Wet
Johnny was searching for marks when finally emerging from the mud and
was called back onto trail as other lights were espied at strange
compass points.
Ye
savage gods, what was that ruined road descent all about?! It seemed to
be endless and the legs took a pounding before blessed relief and the
Humber road turn for home. Strap-On was soldiering on the short and just
up ahead were Manopause and Erection who, seeing the Bird in their rear
view mirrors, legged it back into the car park - I think they're
getting fitter now!
Big
End nodded permission to the Rain God above and the precipitation
commenced as we scuttled into the ranch house to claim our Pasty and
Pint offer.. HA!
TRAIL & BAR TITTLE-TATTLE
Missing the pre-booking deadline and on an away-day from Plymouth, KELVIN cut out the middle woman (Well Hopped) and ordered his Pasty and Pint directly from the Red Rock Baby!
COLDTITS smooth as silk on the short trail, never going Wong Wei at any point - hurrah!
Good to see POLYFELLA back on trail after injury.
KELVIN wasn't at the front with the FRB's owing to poor lighting - which you decidedly needed.
Happiness was Shirley WETFART who sat drinking his half of Red Rock Baby with a glazed smile. '£1.60 Bluebird, £1.60, now that's what I call a good price!'
THE DOWNDOWNS
BIG END most deservedly got his drink for double laying the trail - great effort!
PISSWELL awarded the Homing Horse Head hat for recording ten kilometres or was it miles?
MANOPAUSE singled out for punishment by Swinger for claiming Carl's pasty!
COLDTITS nominated by a babbling Bird for her Forde Park detour the previous week.
Finally, a BIG 400 Badge for SATNAV - and no, you didn't tell me Grand Master, it was just a good guess!
EPILOGUE
What a stonking evening we had at what has become a favourite On Down for TVH.
Vittles and ale at bargain basement prices and a most convivial ranch
house to enjoy them in. Many thanks to Big End for twice giving me
'foolproof' directions, once on the trail and how to get home!
The heavens opened up as Big End departed on his bike - trust the brakes worked on the descent!
Well done the hare.
POSTSCRIPT
What about Walkabout (1971) Part 1
I hear a solitary voice enquire? I shall merely relate Man-Pig's
comment: 'Nobody could be that stupid!' I think you are right, MP and
they wouldn't have believed it anyway - it must have been made up..
sigh.
Glad you happened along though!
ON ON to next week and Beefy's Walk on the Wild side up on the moor. Circle-up in the Rugglestone Inn's car park 7:15 pm. Details to follow.
