The Rugglestone, Widecombe-in-the-Moor
Run No. 1935 Beefy's birthday hash
HARE: Beefy
Who
wuz there: Beefy, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy,
Smellie, Slip-on-Me, Coldtits, Pisswell, Fukarwe, Poacher, Will
(virgin) & Duncan (virgin).
The Circle
It
was a unique day. The pageantry, discipline, and choreography of Her
Majesty's funeral were always going to make this evening's run a
difficult one to call regarding how many would turn up. As it was,
thirteen long distance hashers (including two virgins) arrived at the
Rugglestone in good time for Beefy's birthday hash.
There
was a little pre-circle discussion as to whether the down-downs would
be appropriate on such an auspicious day. Beefy had already organised
the DD's with the pub so it was agreed that the down downs would go
ahead.
As
had been agreed the previous week, the Circle commenced with a
minute's silence for Her Majesty. At the end of the silence, Smellie
politely reminded us that a Hare was required for 3rd October.
We
welcomed two virgins into the Circle, Will & Duncan. No one present
had taken ownership of them - so who had made them come?......someone
called Holly apparently, who wasn't present! A down-down for Well
Hopped next week methinks.
Shitfaced duly anointed them with flour and then it was over to the Hare.
Beefy
had been out on his bike and advised that there was a Walkers' (an out
and back to the cider stop - around two miles); a Shorts' of about
three miles and a Longs' of about five miles.
Both
the Longs' and the Shorts' would be crossing a bit of open moor but
shouldn't get lost as the dots were close at this point.....and so they
proved to be.
The Trail
A
check at the entrance to the car park had Man-Pig running to the right
and uphill; Poacher taking the level option to the left and the rest
of the pack waiting patiently in the car park for whomsoever shouted
"On-On" first. It was Man-Pig.
Back
in the car park, there was some debate as to whether Poacher should be
called back. "No. Leave him be" suggested the Hare - an instant recipe
for a down-down.
The
trail took us up through the tiny hamlet of Venton and to a check at
Chittleford. The Pig had a burning desire to run towards Pudsam Down
whilst Fukarewe correctly checked towards Lower Dunstone.
At
Lower Dunstone (very old and picturesque), an arrow had us all heading
for Beefy's at Higher Dunstone. The Walkers got an early cider and
flapjack whilst the Longs and the Shorts headed southwest.
An
obvious check at the footpath that leads to Cockingford did not have
us going to Cockingford. We continued on road until we came to the
Long/Short split that took the Shorts right and up onto the moor -
still on road at this time.
The
Longs' continued on road past Windwhistle (a single farm hamlet) and
through Bittleford where checks at two footpaths proved fruitless.
Still
on road, we headed towards a check at Lizwell. This took us right and
into Jordan. I didn't realise that this was where we came across the
beautiful Mill House on Pisswell's trail from about five or six weeks
ago. Everything looks so different in the dark!
Again
we passed another check at a stile onto a footpath. We didn't have to
check far. The cross was on the other side of the stile!
A
check in Jordan had the Pig checking uphill, eventually finding a
third dot. Back to the check to kick it out by which time Poacher and
Pisswell had caught up.
"Have you seen Fukarwe?"
"No. He wasn't too far behind me."
We concluded that he must have opted for the Short.
As
the road levelled off near Drywall, we reached a crossroads and the
inevitable check. The Pig went straight on towards Dockwell. Poacher
went left and Pisswell went right.
It
wasn't long before Poacher and the Pig were chasing Pisswell downhill
and then uphill. After maybe half a mile, an arrow directed us left,
off-road and onto the moor where we rejoined the Shorts' trail. This
skirted the dry stone wall in a north-easterly direction before falling
away down a broad track into Higher Dunstone and the cider and
flapjack stop.
Poacher
led the charge downhill but momentum got the better of him and he
missed the detour to the birthday drinks stop. Pisswell tried calling
after him but to no avail. We felt a tad guilty that he'd missed the
drinks stop so we decanted a glass into an old cider bottle and wrapped
a slice of flapjack in foil. This we gave to him in the pub. He
deserved it. He had just warranted himself a Down-Down.
The Down-Downs
The
Rugglestone is under new ownership. Shitfaced advised that the new
owners don't really like singing in the pub. It was a mild evening, so
we were happy to decamp into the beer garden for the Down-Downs.
The
first order of service was, again, to the Queen for 70 years of
unstinting loyal service. We then raised our glasses to toast the King,
"God save the King". We also thanked the pub for the beer - but as the
landlord and landlady were inside I doubt they heard us.
Given
the occasion of Her Majesty's funeral, it had been suggested that some
may wish to wear something appropriate for the evening.
Georgy
Porgy and Piltdown wore crowns; Coldtits a tiara and Pisswell ran the
entire trail with a union flag draped around her shoulders. The best
the Pig could do was to dig out an old British Lions shirt.
Virgins Will and Duncan said that they had enjoyed the run and would be back. We look forward to seeing them again.
Strangely, and despite low numbers, awards were in abundance for a change.
Poacher
was the first to offload his baby bat hat award. He complained about
an absence of marks. I guess, in a way, he was right. He had spent the
first five minutes of the run off trail and running back into
Widecombe. Everyone else found plenty of marks.....they had all gone the
other way out of the car park. Nevertheless, the baby bat hat went to
Beefy to a rendition of "Hold it in your hand Mrs. Murphy".
Next up was Coldtits. She still had lost property in the form of a Tina Turner/Rod Stewart wig. But to whom to award it?
Candidates
included Piltdown man and Shitfaced - both for being follicly
challenged. Piltdown was too tall, so it went to Shitfaced who wasn't
drinking. It then ended up with Smellie because she wasn't follicly
challenged.
More
lost property improvising as an award - this time it was Archangel's
Grizzly sweatshirt from three weeks ago. Pisswell awarded this to
Poacher for missing the drinks' stop.
One
last half pint of ale to award. Man-Pig had the Hashshit shirt from
the previous week. There was only one candidate; the Hare for his
birthday hash - all the right notes - not necessarily in the right
order.
Despite
the low turnout, a good run and a thoroughly enjoyable evening.
Perhaps the correct way to round off what will be one of the most
eventual days of our lives.
RIP your Majesty. You've deserved it!
Next week
Court Farm Inn, Abbotskerswell with Hares Ernie and Strap-On.
On-On to next week, Man-Pig.
