TVH3 The Words for 8th May 2023
Two Mile Oak, Ipplepen
Run. No. 1968
HARES: Only Here for the Beer & Shitfaced
Who
wuz there: OHFB, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Arkangel (pub only), Beefy,
Pisswell, Piltdown Man, Smellie, Beeflicker, Slip-on-Me, Big End, Ned,
Well Hopped, Wet Johnny, Erection, Able Semen, Ernie & visiting
virgin - Anna from London.
Circle
Well,
what a change from last week! A damp coronation bank holiday weekend
conspired to keep numbers low. Although, given the weather, a turnout
of 17 was, really, very acceptable.
It
has been a long, long time since we last ran from the Two Mile Oak.
Over twenty years ago according to Able Semen. The Two Mile Oak has a
very large car park. The last time that I was here was to watch a music
festival with Bobbiball; one of the acts?......The Out of Tunas.
Having
such a large car park I thought that parking would be easy. How wrong I
was. It was nearly full. OHFB explained that this was because it is
now one of the very few pubs in the area that does food and remains
open on a Monday night.
We
circled up in reasonably heavy rain with a brisk breeze as Shitfaced
welcomed us to the Two Mile Oak (TMO). Shitfaced first welcomed Anna.
Anna is from London and taking a break in Devon. She had never hashed
before. What was she going to make of a wet run in Devon and the bunch
of oddballs that comprise TVH3?
Then
came the most alarming bit. Shitfaced said that the Hash would
normally anoint newcomers with a liberal dosing of flour - but they
hadn't got any. Crikey, what on earth had they laid the trail with? Had
they laid a trail at all? Had the trail been washed away? We would
have to wait and see.
Poor
Smellie really did look like a drowned cat with her cat hat on.....and
we hadn't even started the run. Nevertheless, she advised that we were
OK for Hares. Over to OHFB and Shitfaced for details of the trail:
"Yes. It has been laid - and in flour. If it's still there? Walkers about two and a half. Shorts' about four and Longs' six".
"Really?" I thought to myself.
Shitfaced
went on to say, "When you come to the puddle, just keep going", with a
particularly wry smile on his face. What could could he be
insinuating?
The Trail
The
weather was pretty poor and the doubting Thomas in me kicked in. I
wasn't expecting great things, especially as I had bumped into OHFB in
the Park Inn on Saturday. Yes, he had a plan for the trail but it
would involve a lot of road. I told him not to worry. We would all be
thankful for any trail given the forecast.
How
mistaken I was! The Hares had laid a great trail and, despite the
rain, virtually all marks were intact on a clearly laid trail. Did I
say, "Clearly laid trail?". The FRB's thought that the trail was
clearly marked. Beeflicker only got off trail once. Running straight
across the OH sign he decided to go around the trail again. He only
stopped when he ran past the wooden horse for the second time.
Man-Pig,
Big End, Ned and Well Hopped stayed together on the way round and had
no problems with the marks. We even caught a glimpse of principle FRB,
Beeflicker, in the far distance at one point.
However,
not everyone followed the marks as assiduously as the FRBs. Or, maybe
they did, just not the same marks. At the Circle, Shitfaced did mention
that Haldon Hash were running from Denbury. However, it was impossible
to confuse the two trails as their trail was laid in sawdust and TVH's
was exclusively flour.
Impossible? Believe me, nothing is impossible for a Hasher. And so it was that we had the latest Down-Downs in living memory* - they commenced at 9.45 when the last of the lost/diverted hashers reached the On-Down.
What
had happened? Well, one - very late - hasher had bumped into Fallen
Woman who was doing the Haldon Hash trail. Fallen Woman had promised
this particular Harriet great things on the Haldon trail,including a
free beer stop. So this Harriet abandoned our virgin visitor, Anna from
London, and merrily followed Fallen Woman to the Haldon beer stop. It
must have been some beer stop as this Harriet didn't make it back to
the pub till 9.45!
Meanwhile,
back in the pub, it transpired that quite a few Hashers had been in
Denbury open prison. Not literally, but they had run through the car
park and the public footpath that exits at the eastern end of Denbury.
Maybe this was part of the Shorts' trail but it certainly wasn't part
of the Longs'. Latecomers included Ernie and virgin visitor, Anna. They
arrived back at the pub at 9.20 and, additionally, Beefy was even
later. In fact, the latecomers were so late that Piltdown Man kindly
went on a recce to look for them.
What
had gone wrong with Beefy? A footwear malfunction apparently. Beefy is
still recovering from a badly sprained ankle. It is on the mend so he
is happy to walk the Longs, but in hiking boots. These hiking boots are
nice and sturdy. They support the ankle well and, crucially, they are
waterproof. Therein lies the folly. Things that keep the water out are
also very good at keeping the water in. And so it proved to be when the
trail took us through nearly 2 feet of water on a flooded farm track.
Now, 24 inches of water doesn't work too well with 6 inch high hiking
boots. The net result was that Beefy had a very slow and squidgy walk
around the Longs as each of his boots now weighed at least 10 pounds.
He said that he felt like a deep sea diver minus his Siebe Gorman
copper helmet.
OHFB
was right about a lot of road but this was more than outweighed by the
swimming; literally in the case of Ned who couldn't touch the bottom
and resorted to doggy paddle at the first, and deepest, puddle.
Shitfaced had fibbed. He had only mentioned a single puddle in the pre
run spiel - not the twenty or so that we encountered over the 6 mile
long.
The
actual trail turned right out of the pub car park and then right again
at the first crossroads (Dornafield Cross). We passed what must be an
equestrian centre on our right as it had a half size carved horse in
front of the entrance.
We
passed through a dog-leg at Rydon Farm. This I recognised from a trail
that we did about a year ago - Tamsin's virgin lay. However, this year
we were doing it in reverse.
At
the next crossroads (Rydon Cross) we came to the first of two
Long/Short splits. The Shorts carried straight on towards Stubbins
Cross whilst the Longs' went right and then left towards East Ogwell.
On
the Longs' trail we passed Ogwell Grange. This is a lovely old
building with ornate stone chimneys. The Longs' dropped down into East
Ogwell following clear marks - surprisingly almost unaffected by the
rain.
By
East Ogwell church, an arrow had us bearing left and heading uphill to
where Bluebird had collapsed into a hedge on Tamsin's trail last year.
Oh why, oh why, did Swinger and Matt rescue him?
We
arrived at Stubbins Cross but no sign of the Shorts. However, we did
find an arrow pointing right and down a particularly damp farm track
towards West Ogwell Cross. However, as so many of the Shorts had said
that they passed through Channings Wood car park, I wonder if the
Shorts had, accidentally, followed the left fork of the farm track
that leads to the prison car park?
It
wasn't long before we found out why Shitfaced had a wry smile on his
face. PUDDLE? My a**e. It was a lake! At its deepest, is must have been
pushing 18 inches deep. There was no way around it. You had to go
through it. Poor Ned had to doggy paddle yet again to get past the
watery obstacle. But this was only to encounter another four "puddles"
before we hit tarmac again.
At
West Ogwell Cross, an arrow had us skirting the edge of HMP Channings
Wood, past the bluebell carpeted Oxenham Woods, on our way towards
Denbury Sports fields and Start Cross.
At
Start Cross, it was left and uphill into the middle of Denbury
arriving at the crossroads with a public water trough at its centre.
Another arrow. This time left and towards the Union Inn. The marks were
still good but had changed from right to left. Had we missed
something? A quick check confirmed that we were on trail as we followed
the marks to Newton Cross and thence onto Ipplepen Cross. The latter
proved to be the location of the second Long/Short split with the Longs
bearing right and down to Denbury Cross....and more puddles! Although
these were on tarmac and not nearly as deep as those on the farm
tracks.
At
Denbury Cross, it was left and past Ipplepen football fields until
arriving at a second crossroads sharing the name Dornafield Cross (how
many of them are there?). It was left again and up Dornafield Lane as
we completed three sides of a square to arrive back at the first
junction of the outward trail and, inevitably, the OH sign.
6.46
of your English country miles - amazingly undertaken substantially in
the dry as the rain stopped only ten minutes into the trail.
Down-Downs
Judging
by the number of cars in the car park, when we arrived, I surmised
that a lot of non-Hashers would be eating inside the pub. We certainly
didn't want to alienate the landlady on our first visit after an
absence of some twenty years, so I was preparing to execute the
Down-Downs outside. I needn't have worried. By the time it came to do
the Down-Downs all non-hashers hard eaten up and left the pub.
Debbie,
the landlady, was very welcoming. She had laid on sausage, beans and
mash for the Hash in addition to providing the Down-Down beers. And
when it came to doing the Down-Downs she said that we could make as
much noise as we wanted. The only non-Hasher at the bar was Matt. We
had been chatting about bikes and the TMO music festival where he had
been DJ, MC and one of the acts - and yes, he did recall The Out of
Tunas!
In
the absence of Forrest-Stump, Man-Pig assumed the RA'ing duties. We
thanked the pub for the beer, the scoff, the parking and the weather!
Awards
were going to be thin on the ground as the absent Bluebird had rather
monopolised them last week. Nevertheless, Ernie was present and he had
the Bacardi hat. Inevitably, this had to go to the last person back who
had just walked in the door at 9.45pm. It was Pisswell who had had a
rather jolly time on the Haldon Hash! A note for "The diverted one".
That
was the only award present but were there any stories? Beeflicker had
one. He had come across a rather bedraggled cat in the form of Smellie
where the Shorts and Longs temporarily rejoined at Denbury Green.
Smellie was highly unimpressed. A four way junction and no marks. No
marks apart from an enormous flour arrow. A note for the "Bedraggled
One".
Another
story? Yes. Shitfaced recounted the sorry tale of a thirsty hasher who
had forgotten his purse. Never mind. Wet-Johnny will buy me a drink.
Wet-Johnny is at the bar. He gets himself a drink, acknowledges that
Erection wants a drink and says, "I'll be right back". With this,
Wet-Johnny goes over to join Big End and Well-Hopped for the next
twenty minutes! Who should get the Down-Down? Wet-Johnny, Erection or
Big End? Shouts for Big End and a note for "The tempter".
It
was a surprisingly good trail and from a new venue that looked after
us very well (we will, undoubtedly, be back). Hence the last half pint
of Otter went to a thoroughly deserving OHFB. A note for "The Lying
Toad" as he professed to have laid the trail on foot. What poppycock!
Next week
Next week's Hash is from the Corner Flag, Coach Road, Newton Abbot with Hare Wet Johnny.
On-On to next week.
*
The latest Down-Down was at Riverford Farm (I think an Ashburton
Hash). This was a post 10pm Down-Down as Doris had got off trail big
time. She had, somehow, found herself in Ashburton. Nevertheless, she
had found a pub that served Guinness and convinced the Landlord to
stand her a pint and, could she use the pub's phone to phone Rambo to
come and get her and pay for her pint? Accordingly, a jolly late
Down-Down. 
