A DEATH TRAP & A GATE TOO FAR

by the Blues Brothers

 

Run #1938 Monday 10th October 

 

from the Crown & Sceptre at St Marychurch 

 

with the Blues Brothers.

 

The notorious Blues Brothers were back and those that made the circle knew that a Boys Own Paper style adventure Shirley was on the cards.

 

It was a return to the Crown & Sceptre - as requested by the Grand Master - and fortunate indeed we were that it was still there. No Dave Wheeler to give us a super hash-friendly welcome as a new brewery had taken over and installed its own management. The plethora of memorabilia sadly had been stripped away. 

 

But never mind, we were back and, without further ado, let's get on with it.

 

Just in, Man-Pig's roll call:

Who wuz there: Bluebird, Bobbiball, Forrest-Stump, Perry, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Wet Johnny, Manopause, Erection, Fukarwe, Soapy, Ablesemen, Slip-on-Me, Beefy, Pisswell, Teapot , Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Piddler, Swinger, visitors from PAD Hash (Portsmouth & District): Turn-Up Tony & harriet (Mrs Turn-Up Tony?)

 

A beautifully sunny day welcomed the hares as they set off around 2:30 for the lay.

While I waited for Bobby to lay a short section, I met a lady dog walker with an interesting hash story. 

 

She had, in years gone by, hashed out in Kuwait and ladies were not allowed to wear shorts and advised to go accompanied at all times on the run. She and her companion, brave as can be, were wearing shorts (in sultry heat) and somehow went astray from the trail. They suddenly found themselves in a fish market and were chased by irate stallholders and shoppers! Fortunately, they were more fleet of foot than the angry mob and got away to tell the tale.

 

By Watcombe beach car park, we paused awhile to gather breath. Bobby gave the marching orders, and I proceeded to Brunel woods and the Brunel's Dance totem, the designated RG and sweetie stop.

 

That was the last we saw of each other as Bobby laid a lonely furrow through King George while I limped back along the Teignmouth road.

 

The trail was not yet complete as there was the first long split to lay. This would prove to be quite a task but being spent, it would have to be a last minute addition.

 

The light was fading as I set out at about 6:20 to complete the loop. The hash had negotiated this split a few years back (with the aid of ropes as it was muddy) but there was a snag tonight. The existing animal track up from Petitor beach was now heavily overgrown and, only twenty yards up, the brambles and vegetation were neck high.

 

Time was now critical, so there was no Plan B. I was forced to smash a way through, tacking sideways to gain passage. Where high brambles barred the way, I threw myself backwards to flatten them, wildly splashing flour as I careered. The established track was reached and then it was a stiff climb to the cliff path and back from whence I had come. 

 

The question in my mind was whether to keep the split or yield to sanity. Cometh the circle and Crazy Horse would not yield, so why should the demented Bird?

 

The circle in the tiny back car park was dark indeed and without Man-Pig's assistance (now arrived, see above), I will not attempt to name the two dozen or so souls that assembled.

However, a hasher from Southampton, down on holiday, had somehow found us - welcome Turn-up Tony, for turning up and adding to the evening's entertainment.

 

Bobby wanted me to leg it to the SS with the sweeties, but that was not possible as I had to be on station for the highly dubious first long split. Bob played the white man and, at the off, would set off up the road - just over a mile to hold a welcome in the woods.

 

Much was said before the hares were summoned, but being hard of hearing, it all blessedly passed me by.

 

A warning was given concerning the suitability, and indeed, the viability of the first long split. Knowing what the hare was capable of, most wisely heeded the warning.

 

While Bobby kept the circle entertained, I slipped away to get in position for a fly-by at the first roundabout.

 

Lying up with the pack approaching the first long/short split, I made a careful note of those venturing forth for adventure. All passed muster. 

 

There was hard man Beefy; rugged Wet Johnny; fearless but highly capable Man-Pig and, accompanying them two harriets - Pisswell and Swinger. All were together and the terrain was such that they would be forced to stay together for the test.

 

After watching them drift downhill into the gloom, I got in position at the summit of the climb to await the Famous Five who had taken up the challenge.

 

Several minutes elapsed with no sign. A faint cry was heard far below and then silence. I cautiously descended to get a better sight of any head torches. A hundred yards down I made myself comfortable and waited. Suddenly, to my great relief, head torches illuminated the lower reaches of the climb. 

 

Wet Johnny was to the fore but as he shouted the on-on, he crashed down the slope into the thick stuff. Cries of woe were heard but Wet Johnny rose, rubber ball style and continued.

'Tack across, follow the light!' came the encouragement from above and one by one, the pioneers and real hashers, came onto the animal track and the sharp ascent.

 

That was my lot, I was exhausted. Returning to the pub, Piltown, Georgie and Chocca accompanied me and my thoughts were for brave Bobby, who must have been as tired as me.

Over to Bobby now for how it went belly up when we went our separate ways on the lay.

 

A GATE TOO FAR by Bobby Woll

 

All was going well on the lay until the hares decided to split up and meet at a gate on the main road which led into the fields back to St Marychurch. Unfortunately, Bluebird didn't realize it was just 10 yards further along from where he thought it was and so decided to change the route unbeknown to Bobbiball. 

 

So the hares failed the two most important rules, to one, do a recce, two, keep together, and, on reflection,, don't hare with a gammy leg.

 

Thus, what we ended up with was hashers all over the place. One went down to the shops and back; some to the first long and back; some doing Bluebirds trail; and some doing Bobby's trail!

 

Finally, well done to the walkers who manfully and, womanfully, got to the sweetie stop only to find most had already been there!

 

Thank you, Bobby, I was hoping to keep quiet about that, but there we go.

 

At the bar, snippets were heard. Turn-up Tony had seen Piddler flip over but Piddler stated that Tony also had come a cropper. Big End, Well Hopped and Ned - avoiding the death-trap, had made rapid progress around the two other long splits and had probably got to the SS before anyone else. 

 

The long was only four and a bit miles, but I had factored in the degree of difficulty of the first long, so most made it back by 9 pm.

 

DOWNDOWNS

Fukarwi was awarded the Baby Bat hat by Well Hopped for a former hash misdemeanour.

 

Turn-up Tony had a DD and the honour of the Horse Head hat (jamais vu since the Awards Night at the Wild Goose) for his tumble.

 

Bobby retained the Hashit shirt as Pork Torpedo would not sanction the other hare having it.

 

Soapy had the Viking Horned hat for taking the Bird brain seriously and then proceeded to annoint the Horse with beer.

 

POSTSCRIPT

The trail lay was by far the best part of the day. Difficult to decide which of us was the most tired at the end. Bobby, sufferering from many injuries or the Bird, having been sidelined with a non-covid virus for ten days which left me very weak. We had that young man, Man-Pig on emergency standby, but pride carried us through.

 

Well done, Bobby and also my thanks to Beefy, Wet Johnny, MP, Pisswell and Swinger for their bravery - and not a single reproach or complaint.

 

POST POSTSCRIPT

I know I can be a little loud, Oh Dearly Sometimes Offended, but do bear in mind that my circumstances prevent me from going out most days and when I do manage an excursion, I try and make the most of it. 

 

ON ON to next week and the Teignmouth Rugby Club with Pollyfella.