24th January 2022 - McBell Inn, Bovey Tracey - 1901st Run - Burns' Night
by MacPig
HARES: Cold McTits (Longs and Shorts) & Shit McFaced (Walkers)
Who
wuz there: Cold McTits, Shit McFaced, Forrest McStump, McTeapot, Pork
McPedo, McHornie, Piss McWell, McBeefy, Three McSum, Sat McNav,
Piltdown-Mac, Georgie-McPorgy, McSmellie, McStrap-On, Mrs McStrap-On,
Big Mac, Well McHopped, McNed, Mac-Pig, Arc McAngel, Hot McLips, McZoot,
Cheerio McBeerio, Blue McBird, Only Here for the McBeer, Fallen
McWoman, Able McSemen, T-McHumper, I McPoo'd, Just McCumming, McGrinder,
Deep McThroat
Who wasn't: McRambo (skiing), Bobbi McBall (poorly - although he did offer to drop off the Horses head hat)
INTRODUCTION
Wow.
What a fantastic evening! And wasn't it good to have McTeapot back
after such a long absence? And just in time to pipe-in the Haggis;
resplendent in full highland evening dress. Brilliant. And just when you
thought that this could not be bettered, another spectacular
performance by a similarly attired Pork McPedo. Porky beguiled and
amazed us with the traditional Toast to the Haggis. All eight verses of
it and all from memory including the actions of slicing open the haggis
and squeezing out its entrails. Truly awesome. A wonderful sight to
behold....especially in a village pub on the edge of Dartmoor. Who'd
have thought it? Fantastic.
PRE-CIRCLE
An
early start for TVH this evening. The Hares had organised a pre-trail
mini-distillery tour at The Dartmoor Distillery. The owners took us
through a fast forwarded video of the history of the distillery.
Founded in 2017 and using a cognac still imported from France. Now
deemed to be too small to be commercially viable for the likes of
Martell and Remy Martin, they had found their way to the fringes of
Dartmoor for a new lease of life. Whilst the cognac still is used for
the whisky, another still is being used for the Dartmoor gin. This is
another import from France but last used in 1959. It was interesting to
see the tiny bead blaster used to clean the outside of the stills to
reveal the beautiful copper beneath - all hand beaten I would think.
I
understand that our mini-visit might be a precursor to a more
formalised visit on 26th February. If the Hash can drum up enough
interest, the distillery might even put on a barrel of beer for us.
Shit McFaced is still in negotiations, so watch this space for further
details.
THE CIRCLE
Shit
McFaced correctly pronounced Buvvy Tracey and reminded everyone that
subs were now due. Over to Cold McTits for the lowdown on the trail. A
Walkers' trail of about one and a half miles. A Shorts' of, maybe,
three miles. Longs' around five miles but ".......do the Walkers' loop
first before rejoining the Shorts' trail".
THE TRAIL
Down
Fore Street heading for the Dolphin, we crossed over the River Bovey
opposite where the Riverside Inn once was; now a Tescos Express. A
peculiar split as the Longs and the Walkers veered right and into a
park whilst the Shorts carried on and up past the Dolphin. Oh, what
confusion in the park. The marks were fine as we carried on along the
western bank of the River Bovey. Then - nothing. Ahead, over another
small bridge and an opportunity to go left, right or straight
ahead....nothing. A lot of wandering around and checking - even though
there was no check.
The
majority of the pack checked out the north and east periphery of the
park but nothing. McPig eventually committed to checking out the
eastern bank of the Bovey and found a couple of marks. However, these
proved to be from last week's Ashburton Hash so Mac-Pig ended up back
at the first check and returning to the Walkers and Longs/Shorts split
just as the Walkers were all returning to the pub. C'est la vie.
Well
behind the Longs and the Shorts, Mac-Pig got back on trail just in
time to catch up with Forrest McStump at the Long/Short split. This was
just after passing through Challabrook Farm. Forrest went Short whilst
Mac-Pig opted for a lonely long. This took the Longs up Chapple Road.
This follows the route of the Templer Way and along the lower reaches
of the granite tramway that extends up to Haytor.
It
wasn't long before the sweetie-stop was in sight and some Cadburys
McRoses chocolate were consumed before continuing the lonely plod up to
a farmhouse. This was Whisselwell Farm and I wasn't supposed to be
here. A kindly young farmer redirected me back from whence I came. "An
arrow". A big one too that I had clearly missed.
As
soon as I commenced the clamber up the watery farm track, I knew
exactly where I was. This was a Piss McWell trail that we'd done a
couple of years ago and, again, by Ash Hash last summer. The track is a
public footpath that takes us up to Lower Brimley.
At
Lower Brimley, an arrow clearly directed us down Brimley Lane and back
towards Bovey Tracey. Over the A382 and past the northern edge of the
playing fields and past St John's church. An arrow pointed us across a
road and then right into a housing estate before going down the
footpath that took us out at the Station car park into the middle of
Bovey Tracey. Up Fore Street and back to the car for a quick change into
something Scottish.....I wonder what that might be?
TEIGN VALLEY EXCEL INSIDE THE BELL
"Wear
something Scottish", they said. "For next week is the Burns' Night
Hash". And so we did. Despite rural Devon being at the other end of the
country, a really splendid turnout of suitably attired Hashers helped
to make the evening what it was......fantastic!
THE McDOWN-DOWNS
5 half-pints plus Bluebird's special prize:
Georgy McPorgy to Pork McPedo for brilliant attire - 'Hold it in your hand Mrs Murphy...'
McTeapot for (a) being back & (b) fantastic pipe playing. It really made the evening.
McSmellie,
special award for squeezing into her £5 size 10 tartan dress....lovely
but, being so tight, it took ages for Smellie to despatch her half
pint.
Fallen McWoman for being on last week's AshHash trail, "But I wasn't the only one!"
The Hares, Cold McTits and Shit McFaced for organising, well, everything! Well done.
Finally,
Able Semen set the seal on the evening by informing us that it was our
Life President's birthday this very day. Glasses were raised for dear
Pottsie.
IMPORTANT NOTICE - AMNESIA
Miscreants or amnesia. Two unpaid Haggis, Neaps & Tatties
still outstanding at the end of the evening! If you were one of those
that enjoyed the traditional Scottish fare, but forgot to pay, please
liaise directly with the pub to settle your bill. Thankyou.
McDENDUM
After
sampling the delights of haggis, neaps and tatties Mac-Pig, Pork
McPedo and Blue McBird got into a conversation about the history of
tartans. In a nutshell, tartans as we know them today are a recent
concept; a concept based on commercialism, nostalgia and the creation of
a past that never existed. Sure, tartan type weaves have been around
since the dark ages but they were never particularly colourful and they
were certainly not clan specific.
After
the Battle of Culloden in 1742, the wearing of tartan by highland
males was banned for the next 36 years. It was only after King George
IV's visit to Edinburgh in 1822 that a the concept of promoting
Scottish cultural identity, through tartan, gained traction. This was
further supported by Queen Victoria.
However,
the concept of clan specific tartans is only about 80 years old. Many
thousands of highlanders were moved out of their homelands to make way
for sheep in the early 18th century - a very dark time known as the
Highland Clearances. Many of the displaced went to Canada, the USA and
New Zealand.
The
descendants of these early colonisers, seeking a reconnection with
their ancestors, have been one of the primary drivers behind the
commercialisation of tartans. Now, not only does each clan have its own
(albeit modern-day) tartan, there are numerous tartans to choose from
within each clan.
Typically,
this comprises the Chief's tartan, a dress tartan and a hunting tartan
- the latter usually being fairly drab. However, prior to clan
tartans, but post Cullodon, many of the English controlled Highland
military regiments adopted regimental specific tartans. Perhaps the
most famous is that of the Black Watch which is green and dark blue.
Thank the pub. Thank the Hares.
POSTSCRIPT
Circumstances
permit merely an abridged offering, but I would echo MP's sentiments
and appraisal of the magical evening. It really seemed like a dream
inside the Bell with the majestic - and most unexpected - entrance of
Teapot, the lone piper escorting in the plattered haggis. Piping
completed, Pork Torpedo, immaculately attired, recited the full eight
verses of Rabbie Burns Address to a Haggis - complete with accompanying
gestures!
Lang may yer lum reek!
A Trail Too Far (2022)
for me in my current condition but I was, unlike the Napoleon Solo MP,
with fine company throughout. Big End encouraged and McBeefy on his
caberathlon was Every Which Way But Loose (1978) - a remarkable effort indeed.
The McSweetie stop, manned by Cold McTits was possibly a McBird saver, enabling a partial recovery.
Going
across the river bridge On Home, Beefy passed a group of the local
lads who were quite bemused by the apparition. 'What's that?' cried
one. 'It's a McCaber!' replied McBird. 'Ahhhhhh' was the impressed
reply.
Finally,
grateful thanks to our Grand Master and Coldtits for arranging,
planning and organizing the epic, thank you from all hashers!
NEARLY FORGOT
An
amusing episode occurred while we were changing, post trail up Mary
Street. A Tesco van came down the hill and could not get through as
cars were either side of the road. The driver got out and took a look.
Forrest was correctly parked and the problem was the car on yellow
lines opposite. Seeing Forrest, the driver came over to see if he could
perhaps move. Unfortunately (for the driver) Forrest had his leg off
and said 'If you can hang on a moment, I'll move my car when I put my
leg on!'
To say the driver was taken aback was perhaps an understatement.
As Corporal Jones would have said: 'Hence the expression - he didn't have a leg to stand on!'
No? Well please yourselves then.
Next week
Confirmed as the Red Rock Brewery, Humber. Details to follow.
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