TVH3 The Words for 14th November 2022

Red Rock Brewery, Humber (Jackie comes out of retirement)

Run No. 1943

 

HARES: Big End & Well Hopped

 

Who wuz there: Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Shitfaced, iPoo'd, Cheerio Beerio, Archangel, Man-Pig, Forrest Stump, Perry, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Beefy, Pisswell, Swinger, Matt, Paul, Manopause, Wet Johnny, Fallen Woman, Piddler, Deep Semen, Ablesemen, Twisted Tart, Teapot, Wetfart, Bluebird, Bobbiball, Mateus Rose, Rise 'n' Shine, Tamsin, Polyfella, Warm Front, Threesum, Martin and Coldtits!

 

The Circle

A cooler night than of late, blustery too, but at least it was dry. Shitfaced called the Circle to order and advised that the cost for the Christmas party would be £10 for members and £15 for non-members.

 

It will take place on 10th December at Newton Abbot Constitutional Club where we have the upstairs function room all to ourselves.

 

Fallen Woman announced that she was taking pre-orders and pre-payment for Brixham's best fish 'n' chip hash on 12th December; the cost is £8 which is cheaper than the shop price. It will be a fancy dress run - Christmas theme/Santa suits. No doubt there will be Christmas carols and we are scheduled to stop at the CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) pub which won South Devon's CAMRA pub of the year last year.

 

No announcements from the Hare Raiser as Smellie was absent - which is pretty rare.

The Hares mentioned something about a Walkers' trail of about 2 miles. The Shorts' would be 4 and the Longs was about five and a half, "I think". Hmmmmmm. There are three Long/Short splits.

 

Finally, the Pig reached out for a volunteer for the Words.......silence. Although the Bird did say that he would add his two penneth worth.

 

The Trail

We ran down the drive from the brewery to the Walkers'/ Long & Shorts' split at the bottom. Walkers to the left. Longs and Shorts to the right. 

 

Outside the entrance to Lindridge Park, a check. The Bird and the Pig checked left, whilst a few checked right. Most hovered around the check. By the time the swine and the avian returned from discovering a cross for their efforts, all that could be seen were the shadows of back markers making their way along Humber Lane.

 

Time to catch up but where was the Bird? The crafty old coot was last seen heading back whence he came. Was he planning on roosting at the bar or gliding silently along the Walkers' trail?

 

The trail took us along Humber Lane where I was running with Polyfella. We passed Arkangel, then Twisted Tart and Piddler. 

 

A cross was encountered at the bottom of Three Tree Lane where I was sure the trail would take us. We overtook Forrest Stump and Pisswell before arriving at a kicked-out check. This was at the top of the long downhill track that takes us right and down into Luton.

 

Outside the Elizabethan pub, we came to the first Long/Short split. Here I caught up with Paul and Matt who are Swinger's friends. These were not virgins as this was their second run. Paul had run from Red Rock brewery about this time last year and Matt had been on Swinger's trail from Shaldon Ness car park earlier in the year. I'd also caught up with Swinger. The Longs took us along the footpath that runs through the Elizabethan's car park.

 

On hitting the lane, I could see Deep Semen checking at a cross, and I could just see the back of a disappearing Warm Front heading uphill towards Little Haldon.

 

We had been up this road earlier in the year, and I was sure that Warm Front was on trail, so I followed her up this interminably long hill. A call of "On-On" from Warm Front confirmed my fears....I hate this hill. Amazingly, I overtook her but she was taking it easy. In fairness, she had just cycled over from Chudleigh. 

 

Eventually, I could see torchlight in front of me. This must be Beefy or Wet-Johnny. Whoever it was, I was catching them......slowly.

 

In the distance, I could barely hear, "Long/Short split" and then the torchlight disappeared. Bugger.

 

More uphill as the second Long/Short split took the Longs around three sides of Little Haldon. The Shorts, meanwhile, kept on road to the sweetie stop at the top of Three Tree Lane. 

 

The Longs' trail took us out onto tarmac at cross-roads where Big End had just put the final Long/Short split. This was where I briefly caught up with Wet-Johnny....a hard man to catch up with.

 

The Longs went diagonally across the cross-roads and onto the public footpath that crosses the, now empty, golf course. At the club house, we went left and right and commenced a short descent down the top of Shepherd's Lane before an arrow had us going right and through a small gravel car park. At the far end of the car park, there was another arrow and we descended trestled steps into woods.

 

By this time, Warm Front had caught up and overtaken me. The trail followed the footpath that runs just below the club house to the picnic tables at White Well. Wet-Johnny and Warm Front had disappeared from sight by the time the trail rejoined tarmac. 

 

An arrow left followed by an arrow right, took us up to the boundary of Teignmouth golf course to a welcome sweetie stop. This is where, for the first time, I'd seen Beefy on trail. The Walkers had already been through but quite a lot of the Shorts were still scoffing.

 

By now, I was hot and sweaty so it was time to take off the wind cheater and get a push on down Three Trees Lane. Big End kindly offered to take my wind cheater back to the pub but I declined the offer. This was simply because Three Trees lane can be a bit dodgy underfoot at night. The lane used to be tarmac along its entire length, but that was many moons ago. Very little tarmac remains but where it is still intact, it presents a problem. This is the case when sound black top gives way to eroded sub-base, and there is usually an ankle twisting two inch drop. If I were to fall over and stop running, I would soon get cold. Hence my decision to decline Big End's offer.

 

The final leg down Three Trees Lane and back onto the out trail was uneventful. Inevitably, I never did catch up with Beefy, Wet-Johnny or Warm Front but I did overtake some of the Shorts including Piddler, Twisted Tart and Cheerio Beerio.

Just before the brewery, I caught up with Shitfaced and iPoo'd and then it was time for a quick change and a beer.

 

And now, we dubiously present:

 

The Adventures of Crafty Coot, Bobby Woll & Bobby Kirk

 

A rare excursion for the Blues Brothers, and excitement was in tents. Der Panzerkampfwagen was fired up and trundled forth to do battle with the shrapnel-scarred veteran Bobby Woll at the controls.

 

The crafty Coot was all of a flutter as he waited at Maidencombe Cross for der Panzer. Should he risk it and go as a biscuit, or merely adjourn to the bar for what he Shirley does best? The vexing question would be answered shortly.

 

A dull rumble and billowing clouds of black diesel heralded the arrival of der Panzer, and the Red Rock baby beckoned.

 

With a snarl of rage, Bobby slewed the Panzer into a parking bay, narrowly missing young Wetfart and effectively precluding any further entry into his chariot. A splendid start to proceedings, I doff my flying helmet to you, Bob.

 

A goodly turnout to the hash-friendly brewery, no doubt lured by the pasty and pint deal. I had missed the deadline but had packed my usual cheese and pickle sarnie as a consolation prize.

 

The long was decidedly off menu but the forecast four for the shorts might just be possible. Meanwhile, Bobby Woll had morphed into his other alter ego, Bobby Kirk, as he unpacked the ski poles.

 

Bobby was given a crisp twenty for the drinks, and the chequered flag dropped. Game on!

After a hundred yards, I knew it wasn't going to happen. Warm Front didn't like the look of the Coot and advised him to take the walkers route which did little for the confidence.

 

Never mind, the first check loomed at the grassy island junction. Left would have at least ensured a little longer on trail, but right, down the hill and then up up and not away would Shirley be goodnight Vienna for the aged Coot.

 

On one, on two, blast it, the cross of destiny, and the Coot ran up the white flag, intent on initiating Plan B, with a capital B that stands for beer. 

 

Cries of bewilderment ensued as hashers called to the Coot as he careered crazily towards the bar. But there was Bobby, who said he was going left for a potter down the bridle path. Whoa there, Neddy, and the Coot turned once more.

 

While Bobby slowly advanced, the Coot coursed up and down the lane until the maximum two miles was reached, and then rejoined the ski master for an amiable amble, brewery bound. Fifty minutes in the bag, job jolly well done. We thought so anyway.

 

Inside, we both plumped for the Freshwater IPA 4.2 calibre which was quite suppable, and I had a refuel just to make sure. 

 

However, the adventurous Bobby (with my cash) thought he'd like to try the Tasty Waves, and I quote: 'Naturally Hazy New England IPA, dry hopped with a load of punchy American hops' - packing a mighty 5.5 calibre punch.

 

What did Bobby do? He only poured it into the remaining half of the Freshwater! An absolute disgrace Bobby, I can't take you anywhere.

 

Back to near sanity with MP:

 

The Down-Downs

Forrest commenced proceedings by thanking the pub for the beer, and for Jackie coming out of retirement especially for us. Hooray! 

 

The pasties and the pint offer should have been pre-ordered by the previous Thursday. Naturally, being hashers, there were always some who would chance it on the night, "Any spare pasties?" Fortunately, there were so I don't think anyone went home hungry.

 

Beefy had the Hashshit shirt to give away. Apparently, Beefy had slept in it and then proceeded to spill lumpy porridge all over it the following day. Ablesemen could have been the recipient for forgetting when the raffle draw was going to take place.....and she's the organiser.

In the event, the shirt went to Deep semen. I think Beefy felt sorry for him as he turned up in late autumn dressed for summer. He really did need another shirt. The master of proceedings called for all to join in with "Hold it your hand Mrs Murphy".

 

Big End had the bat hat from last week. The request to pre-order food had fallen on deaf ears as Threesum had sent an e-mail to Big End at 2pm on the Monday afternoon for her pre-order. A note for the Ginster minger.

 

A mystery award in the form of a pearly king/queen hat was produced from nowhere to accompany a down-down for the Hares. 

 

Rather than electing to share their well earned beer, Well Hopped nominated Big End to to drink it on behalf of both Hares. It was dispatched in pretty swift order to a rendition of "Here's to the pearly queen....." well done hares. A good trail.....but that bloody hill!

 

Finally a run badge to award. Man-Pig gets his 500th run badge. Obviously a chorus of, "Get a life, life,life".

 

Next week

Forrest's firework hash at Tinkley Bottom. If you don't like beer, bring your own poison. Roadkill stew will be on offer but please bring a plate and your own eating irons.....along with fireworks of course..

 

On-On to next week.