SAFETY CAR DEPLOYED

Run #1930 Monday 15th August from the Claycutters at Chudleigh Knighton

HARES: Zoot and Hotlips

 

Who wuz there: GM Shitfaced, Teapot, Piltown, Georgie, Check Mate, Smellie, Twisted Tart, Rise 'n' Shine, Mateus Rose, Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Cheerio Beerio, Wetfart, Strap-On, Strap Dancer, Piddler, Big End, Well Hopped, Roger the Dodger, Ned, Bluebird, Ernie, Soapy, Melon Picker, U Bend, Able Semen, Pisswell, Slip on Me, Zoot and Hotlips.

 

CIRCLE

We were greeted by the Grand Master, complete with crutches and flip-flops. A leg injury had rendered him hors de combat. In Rambo's temporary absence, Smellie has kindly volunteered the duty, stating that 12th September was vacant only for Soapy to snap the slot up, job done.

The roll call was twenty-nine but fam-ed FRB's were missing: Warm Front, Pollyfella, Beefy, and Man-pig who was still away, locked in the Scottish mists.

 

As I took up station to record the exito tuxedo of the pack, I managed to glean that the long trail was an out and backer of about five miles - possibly within my limited range.

 

Briefing concluded, the pack moved off - through the beer garden and not the main entrance, leaving the cameraman stranded and surplus to requirements - whatamistakatomaka!

 

TRAIL

I must have passed the kiddies adventure park many times before but tonight we didn't Carry On Regardless (1961) instead heading North to Alaska (1960) and en route to the Yoga and Alpaca Farm.

 

Spearheading the pack were Big End, Well Hopped, and Check Mate with Smellie (now apparently back in action) Pisswell, and Cheerio Beerio in close attendance.

 

Cunning was the trail and I did not know where we were - and I had just been there. Wing manning trailblazer Big End, I thought I heard the on-on and dutifully echoed the news back to the pack loitering at the check.

 

Piddler led the banzai charge and around a corner the pack stampeded only to be brought to a shuddering halt as Big End cancelled the operation. 'I didn't call on-on!'

Muttering and uttering veiled threats, the pack retreated from whence they had come. Whatamistakatomaka #2!

 

Across the highway, the scouts ventured, with Well Hopped taking command, and then all at once, yes, again dear souls, a mighty herd of red-eyed cows barred the way. Their horns were fearsome and they didn't look pleased to see the intruders in their grazing space.

The Bird strutted forward, calling the camel urging cry of 'Hut, hut, hut!' and a way was found through the madding beasts.

 

The marks were curious and though a clear 'W' presumably for the walkers was seen, the longs and shorts milled around in Ever Decreasing Circles (80s tv sitcom, most excellent).

Coming back on ourselves, virtually the whole hash came together: shorts, longs, and walkers - a nightmare for the FRB's but a triumph for the hares.

 

Enter the Hotlips (2022) to put down marks and then, safety car deployed, the pack formed an orderly queue and followed the hare to the escape gate a hundred or so yards away.

 

The starter's gun echoed and normal service was restored, destination the long/short split and make your minds up time.

 

Pork Torpedo was going great guns and the Bird egged [sic you fools] him on to go long but nay, ever so neigh [sic], the entreaty was rebuffed.

 

Few and far between were The Warriors (1979) who took up the out-and-back spur challenge.

Carve Her Name With Pride (1958) Well Hopped, Pisswell and Smellie put the men to shame as they coursed onwards, accompanied by Big End, Check Mate, and the Bird.

 

Smellie and Checkmate, possibly the Last of the Longs (2022) made a little detour to take in Bradley Ponds and a shot of scenery; the excursion making them a little late to check(mate) back into the on down.

 

The magical (for me anyway) five mile marker was passed and the run in towards the kiddies park was joyful indeed. 

 

Thank you hares and also my companions for the trail - Big End and Well Hopped.

 

DOWN-DOWNS

The Claycutters was still operating waiter service to the tables outside which would ultimately prove ruinous for one unfortunate hasher, but never mind, a balmy evening and a thirst Shirley built up by the deserving souls who completed the long.

 

RA's were thin on the ground, but good old Teapot was there to organize and the imposing Songmeister was in a wicked mood... sigh.

 

First up to the oche was Able, clutching the recently reinstated Horned Viking hat. After the usual foreplay, Mistress Hare Zoot was summoned. Her misdemeanour? Tripping over the doggie water bowl post trail. And down it in good style she Shirley did.

 

Infamy, infamy, der Songmeister Shirley had it in fer me...

 

Wielding the Prize Hashit shirt (as returned by Magnificent Mavis the week before) a heinous catalogue of crimes was related to the throng and the Bird strutted (as most birds do) up to take the prize. There were gasps of amazement and unbridled envy as the Bird stripped off to reveal a bronzed and well-muscled torso.

 

Proudly did he flex and cavort whilst der Songmeister, unblinking and with stony stare looked on. 'Put the beer down on the table.' Rasped the Authoritative/He who must be obeyed One. 'Step forward Hotlips!' A long sigh of resignation...

 

Any more stories? Wetfart had one. A harriet had mistaken him for Teapot?!?! The potential DD fizzled out when the culprit was identified as one Cheerio Beerio - NEXT!

 

Der Songmeister was on one and harangued the assembly about mistaking clean trainers for new trainers and then proceeded to drink from same but with the glass inserted into the shoe.

Two 100 Run Badges were awarded to Big End and Well Hopped and the fickle crowd came back to life, applauding the popular duo to a rendition of 'Why were they born so beautiful..'

 

Having missed out on his drink, the Bird ordered a half of Otter. Some time later, he asked where it was only to be informed that it had been sent out - What? As the Bird made urgent enquiries, Pork Torpedo looked on, sipping said half in his claw! Words fail me..

 

Apologies for the late posting but a combination of internet loss and dear old Mum's birthday today - as acknowledged by Buckingham Palace, proved cumbersome for the scribe.

 

NEXT WEEK

A Pisswell moor adventure from The Forest Inn at darkest Hexworthy with a chance for a dip.

 

ON ON to next week!