SANITY & INSANITY AT THE RED ROCK (BABY) RANCH HOUSE

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.