Saturday, 17 September 2022

TVH3 The Words for 12th September 2022

The Cridford Inn, Trusham
 
Run No. 1934 Forrest Stump's birthday hash
 
HARES: Forrest Stump, Wood-Lend & Mucking Fuddle
 
Who wuz there: Forrest Stump, Shitfaced, iPoo'd, Man-Pig, Archangel, Soapy, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Slip-on-Me, Coldtits, Wetfart, Teapot, Beefy, Pisswell (did the run early), Big End, Well Hopped, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Swinger, Piddler, Fukarewe (returnee again), Poacher, Broadshit, Ernie, Mateus Rose, Rise 'n' Shine, Wood-Lend (pub only), Mucking Fuddle (pub only) & Sam (pub only).
 
The Circle
Well. What a difference a week makes? The Circle was, inevitably, overshadowed by the death of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. Shitfaced said a few words and suggested that we hold a minute's silence at next week's Hash on the occasion of Her Majesty's funeral. All agreed.
 
Smellie required hares for 3rd October and subsequent Mondays.
 
Over to the Hare. Forrest-Stump was the sole Hare on the day. Most of the trail had been laid the previous day with the assistance of Wood-Lend and Mucking Fuddle. I think I know who was responsible for the last Long!
 
Forrest explained that the marks were a little camouflaged as they were laid in sawdust. There were four or five Long/Short splits. Finally, a show of hands for chili con carne at a very reasonable £5 a head. Nine Hashers decided that they were a tad peckish. "Make that ten".
 
The Trail
The trail turned right out of the car park and we came to the first Long/Short split after only a 100 yards. Shorts and Walkers stayed on the main road whilst the Longs bore right.
 
At a check, Poacher headed along the cobbled alleyway in front of some very picturesque cottages and climbed up the footpath to the edge of the first field. Nothing. So he came running back downhill. He was right. Just as he passed me we could hear, "Long/Short split" being called. We were not on trail.
The Longs had done a short loop and rejoined the Shorts on the long downhill to the old Trusham railway station. This entailed passing a field of swans/emus/ostriches (see later). The Walkers, meanwhile, had embarked on what was to be the final Long/Short split.
 
Almost back at the old railway station, a Long/Short split had the Shorts going left and up Farley Hill whilst the Longs went over the railway bridge to a check.
 
The Long's trail took us along the banks of the River Teign before turning away from the river and into woodland. With the tree cover, it was decidedly dipsy and the marks were hard to see. It wasn't long before we were back on trail.
 
Over a steel gate and a white arrow, in flour, directed us up Farley Hill. A check had been put at the junction with the small lane that leads to the infamous 'ravine'. It had been kicked out. So the ravine it was then! 
 
About 200yards into the ravine, a Long/Short split offered the opportunity to follow the official public footpath that runs parallel with the ravine, but in a nice open field.
 
Piddler, sans walking poles, sensibly elected for the field option. Backmarkers Man-Pig, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Well Hopped, and Big End pushed on down the ravine. At least it was dry(ish) this time. The last time we were down here it was a torrent of raging water a foot deep.
 
The ravine is dodgy underfoot at the best of times, let alone when you can't see the unstable stream bed beneath the white water. Today, however, it was nearly dry....but just as unstable underfoot. At the 'leap of faith', Pork Torpedo launched himself manfully across the gaping chasm. All others wimped out and shuffled on their bottoms down one side and up the other.
 
Once out of the ravine, it was a long climb, along a lovely footpath shrouded in tree boughs, back to the top of the village. We were nearly home, or so we thought. One final Long/Short split past the church. This would be a short loop for the Longs.
 
Sure enough, a check at the top of the footpath that drops down just to the north of the Cridford Inn had been kicked out in the direction of the On-Down. Sixty seconds later, we were walking back up the same footpath after having encountered an X.
 
It eventually transpired that we were now on the Walkers' trail which took us along a field and a long run downhill through woodland. At the obvious point of return - another split. This time a Walkers/Long split. The Longs entered the meadow, usually partially flooded but dry today. Across a small wooden bridge and over a stile onto a lane. We have been here many times before and it is almost always left and uphill. And so it proved to be again. Up. Up. And up again. I knew where we were and this was going to be a long Long/Short split - over 2 miles.
 
Despite my best efforts to leave the pack in my wake, there was a constant torchlight behind me. Who on earth could it be? Beefy hadn't been seen all evening. He must have been at the front of the pack. There was no Bluebird, Polyfella, Wood-Lend, or Wet-Johnny to kick dirt in my face. Who was behind me? Time to cheat. I switched off my torch so that my stalker wouldn't know how far in front I was. The downside of this was that I couldn't see any marks. I persevered but I was still seeing the shadows of my pursuer's torchlight.
 
At the only road junction, I had to reveal my position and look for marks. Torch back on. The "OH" appeared to the left and downhill. He was almost upon me. Hammer down and hotfoot it to the pub. Hallelujah. I was back.....but with Big End only a few seconds behind. Good running Big End.
Others who had committed to the last Long included Ernie, Broadshit, Well Hopped, Swinger, Pork Torpedo and Horny. Well done. And well done to our Hare. Another successful outing into the valley and good to see Poacher and Fukarewe returning to the fold.
 
The Down-Downs
The first order of service was, quite rightly, a toast to the Queen. Next week's hash coincides with the funeral and I dare say that the Words will reflect more on the Queen and what she meant to all of us.
We thanked the pub for the beer. If it had been the winter timetable we would have had to thank the pub for opening for us as well.
 
The Down-Downs commenced with an impromptu auction for a bag of mushrooms; freshly picked by Forest Stump on trail. How fresh is that! The Landlord won the bidding war with the winning bid being donated to the SHOUT charity for whom Soapy is collecting. No Melonpicker present as he was recovering from a round of golf!
 
The first Down-Down was Big End looking to offload the baby bat hat. Big End recalled how we had got so close to the pub before arriving at an X. The previous check had been kicked out in the direction of a false trail. Who was the culprit? It was birthday boy Poacher.....a very youthful 50! The Songmeister dispensed with the usual birthday song and substituted "Old McDonald had Tourettes...."
 
Next up should have been Soapy with the Hashshit shirt. However, as Soapy hadn't done the trail, she had given it to Pork torpedo to award to some unsuspecting Hasher. Apparently the recipient was going to be someone who had an animal name in his Hash name. Despite being from the animal kingdom, this hasher thought that the 'emus' were large swans. Man-Pig, who really should be wearing glasses, got the Down-Down and the shirt.
 
They say that all good things come to those who wait. Well, Man-Pig had Polyfella's horned hat from the previous week to give away. He didn't have to wait very long to mete out his revenge. The 'emus' turned out to be ostriches. Horned hat to Pork Torpedo to a chorus of "Hold it you hand Mrs Murphy".
No more awards or stories were on offer but there was a 500 runs' badge to award. Piddler stepped forward to accept his award for interminable moaning across 500 Mondays - can't remember the Songmeister's ditty but it was short.
 
Finally a Down-Down to the Hare on the day after his birthday. The usual cacophony of all the right notes - not necessarily in the right order.
 
Next week
Rugglestone Inn, Widecombe-in-the-Moor. Hare Beefy as it's his birthday hash. On the occasion of Her Majesty's funeral you may wish to wear something to celebrate her life and huge contribution to society and, indeed, the world over for 70 years - something red, white and blue? Your choice. 
 
DEFINITELY BRING TORCHES!
 
ON-ON Man-Pig

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