TVH3 The Words for 19th June 2023
The King William IV, Totnes
(Superhero Fancy Dress)
Run. No. 1973
HARE: Beeflicker
Who
wuz there: Beeflicker, Bluebird, Man-Pig, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy,
Smellie, Coldtits, Slip-on-Me, Well Hopped, Ernie, Strap-On, Strap
Dancer, Satnav, Footloose and a very late Bobbiball.
Circle
It
doesn't need to be BIG to be good....at least, that's what I tell my
wife. And this was a reflection of this evening's trail. Only 14 of us
in attendance but, boy, you missed a good 'un.
No
Shitfaced (tired). No U-Bend (on his hols....bless). So Piltdown
stepped up as GM. Smellie announced that we were OK for Hares up to 14th
August - amazing and, without further ado, over to the Hare.
Beeflicker
did look the part but I couldn't work out if he was Spiderman or a
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle....a hybrid perhaps? But he did look good. I
was, nevertheless, a tad concerned. Most of his costume was
leatherette including his hood and facemask. It was a beautiful, warm
and humid evening. "He's going to suffer if he runs in that!" I
thought.
And suffer he did over the entire 6 miles of the Long. Shorts would be about 4 miles and Walkers....well, shorter!
The Trail
I have been hashing with TVH3
for about 27 years, so virgin territory has become rather a rare
beast. Not so this evening. Relative newby Beeflicker must have been
researching this for ages.
The
trail commenced uphill under the historic and iconic Totnes landmark,
the bridge clock, before an arrow had the pack diving right and down
the appropriately named Castle Hill (at least I now know where the
entrance is to the Norman Mott & Bailey castle).
Bluebird
led the way from Man-Pig in second and just a nose behind, Well Hopped
& Ned (no Big End this week. He was playing, errrrrrm, golf!).
Would this prove to be the sum total of the Longs - along with the
Hare? Yes.
The running order was set for the next 6.52 miles of glorious Devon countryside.
The
first check had Well Hopped continuing down Castle Street whilst the
Bird and the Pig took the left fork down a pedestrian path with a
central railing and onto Lower Collarpark Road.
Bingo! - an arrow in pink chalk.
Up
along Collarpark and another check. The scene of Bluebird's undoing.
The senile old bird kept running; confusing the next cross for a check
and shouting "On-On" whilst carrying on running oblivious to the fact
that he was off trail.
The
Pig made no such mistake and returned to the second check after
finding a cross in the other direction. In true professional Hasher
fashion, Well Hopped stood on the check waiting for the two old
dodderers to find the correct trail.
Do
not rely on Bluebird was the order of the day as Well Hopped heeded
the Bird's errant "On-On" and embarked on a fool's errand. With the
assistance of the Hare, the Pig found an arrow on a flight of steps
that took the pack up onto the Western Bypass. Down we coursed towards
the traffic lights before another pink arrow (Beeflicker seemed to like
them) and left onto the track known as Copland Lane.
This was the scene of Bluebird's ethereal encounter with ghostly figures back on the Burn's night run.
No
spirits today. It was almost midsummer's day and the sun was out on a
beautiful, clear and warm summer's evening. Beeflicker was still
wearing his Spiderman leatherette balaclava. "Not long before he has
to bin that", I thought to myself - mistakenly.
No
deviations off Copland Lane apart from the Walkers whose trail was
marked left and under a railway bridge about a quarter of the way along
its length. Where Copland Lane joins tarmac, we usually go left. Not
today. As Well Hopped, Bluebird and Beeflicker caught up, we were all
sent right by yet another pink arrow. No-one could say that this trail
wasn't well marked.
Suddenly,
a screech of brakes. Another arrow, but this time apparently leading
nowhere but into a copse following the remnants of a track. A deer
track perhaps? It seemed too off the beaten track to be an underused
footpath.
In
the middle of the copse we came to a sign, "No unauthorised access".
Access to where? There were no gates, fences or walls. Just a sign in
the middle of nowhere. Were we "Authorised"? I guess we must have been,
and we ploughed on following blobs of flour - no solid surface for the
use of chalk here....pink or otherwise.
Now,
this was new territory for me so please forgive me if I get this wrong
but I am 99% sure that we were in Peek Plantation at this point.
Eventually,
we exited onto a meadow criss-crossed by tracks. The main one of which
dropped away into another small wood with duckboards over areas that
would normally flood in winter.
Another
check and the Pig went left across the duckboards. Two dots within the
woodland and another just after exiting onto more pasture. "On-On". In
next to no time, we were back on tarmac and I suspect that this was at
Redlake Cross. I vaguely recall Redlake Cross from a Wet-Johnny trail
just before Christmas.
Tarmac
meant pink arrows and, as sure as eggs are eggs, a pink arrow had us
sauntering northwest towards Yarner Beacon and across the A385. A sign
bore the legend "Paignton 6 1/2 miles". I had no idea where we were,
just that we'd crossed a fairly major road.
Not
too far on the other side of the A385 , we arrived at another check (at
Lounard Mill I think). A public footpath to our right looked too good
not to check out. Once again we were on trail. The three FRB's and the,
by now very sweaty, Hare had kept pretty close for the 4 miles up to
this point. We continued to do so as the public footpath took us out
onto a school sports field.
The
trail circumnavigated the sports field and exited onto a main road
opposite a Texaco station. "Hallejujah!". I knew where we were now. Just
a stone's throw away from Shinner's Bridge.
Arrows
took us over the roundabout and across the pedestrian crossing towards
Dartington Cider Press. Then it was onto the tarmac footpath up
Foxhole and then Dartington Hall Drive.
We
ran past the public footpath that would take one back to the River
Dart. We also ran past the 5 bar gate that opens onto a large field
with a peculiar track crossing it. Peculiar in the sense that it
comprises two parallel strips of concrete an axle width apart - no
doubt a dedicated route for tractors. I recognised this as being a part
of Wet-Johnny's previous trail in this neck of the woods. But this was
not part of tonight's trail.
A
few yards further on, we came to a large solid wooden gate with a
smaller pedestrian gate next to it. This had a sign on it saying
"Permitted Access Only. No dogs". Were we "Permitted"?
Still, this is where the marks were leading us, so Superdog Ned was put on a lead as we entered the Dartington Estate.
Initially,
all was well. Not a person in sight. Then, suddenly, we encountered
groups of people. Some appeared to be on a guided tour and one lady
looked about to reproach us for being on the estate. "Keep running and
look like you're meant to be here", I whispered to the Bird and the
Well Hopped one.
Mind
you, it was difficult to look like serious runners when we were being
led by Spiderman. Ultimately, we were not challenged as we confidently
glided through the throng of perplexed visitors.
A
zig-zag around the estate had us pass the White Hart pub and the Great
Hall. Well Hopped was well impressed. We descended along the back road
that would eventually exit near Swallowfields and nearly missed a
mark.
Yet
another arrow had us running through a kissing gate and dropping down
onto the banks of the Dart. It was absolutely beautiful. And it was not
just us appreciating the view. There were several people taking in the
summer's evening by walking along the river bank. We also encountered
two groups of kayakers.
The trail had been perfect up to this point. But then perfection somewhat dissipated.
As
we neared Totnes, the trail took us onto that part of the footpath
skirting closest to the river. Normally this would have been fine.
But
not today. Someone had not consulted their tide tables. We were on a
full spring tide. I have never seen the Dart so high.
The
net result was that the lower footpath was under three feet of water.
Plan B. Backtrack 25 yards onto the upper path and resume the trail.
Passing
under the railway bridge, we missed another arrow and the Hare had to
call us back. Up a small set of steps and into the back of the Totnes
industrial estate we ventured.
A
couple of skateboarders, beers in hand, just gawked at us. They
couldn't believe that they'd just seen Spiderman run past them. "You
saw nothing. Just too much beer" I suggested as the three FRB's
attempted, in vain, to catch up with Spiderman (or should that be
Sweatyman?).
A final climb back up Station Road and we were back at the On-Down.
What a fantastic run. Well done Beeflicker - who was jolly glad to escape the fancy dress at this point.
Down-Downs
With
so many absent, it was down to the Pig to RA for the evening. We
started by thanking Rob, the landlord, for the beer. Rob has always
been very supportive of the Hash. Thankyou.
So, who had awards from last week?
It
turned out that Well Hopped had two awards; both hers and Big End's.
Well Hopped's first nominee was Bluebird. He received the Jester's Hat
due to his inability to tell the difference between a check and a false
trail. A rendition of, "Hold it in your hand Mrs Murphy" commenced the
Down-Downs".
Well
Hopped additionally had the Hashshit shirt. This she awarded to the
Hare. What for? For laying the trail below spring high water mark.
Were there any more awards? No. "What about you Satnav? Didn't you go to the wrong pub last week".
"No. That was two weeks ago".
"Oh no it wasn't". A rather forgetful Satnav eventually conceded defeat and nominated Smellie for a Down-Down.
The
RA had difficulty in working out whether Smellie had come as Wonder
Woman or Super Woman. Neither apparently. She was wearing a fancy dress
from the Big Bang Theory. A note for the Big Bang theorist.
Were there any stories?
"Yes.
It is Satnav's birthday tomorrow". The final half had found a home.
All the right notes, not necessarily in the right order. Also some
ditty from the Pig along the lines of:
" You're stupid. You're stupid. Your so damn dumb. If your mother hadn't been there you'd be a lump of cum!" Hmmmmmmm?
Birdlogue
Well,
that turned out to be quite an adventure. I arrived with the intention
of trying for the long trail if it was five miles or less.
My
heart sank when Beeflicker announced 'about six miles'. Both Strap-On
and Ernie politely demurred though they would be tested on what would
prove to be a 4.4 mile 'short' trail - as indicated by Wonder Woman
Coldti'ts Strava.
Looking
around the tiny gathering, I realized that Man-Pig might be the only
taker. Courage mon brave. It was Super Hero night after all so the
little old pensioner plucked randomly from a park bench, sallied forth
once more to do battle.
Well
Hopped seemed surprised that she could keep up with us but she was
strong and going well on trail. It was a glorious evening and, as MP
stated, the scenery was fabulous.
I
ran out of fuel entering the industrial estate, exactly at the six
mile point but it was, thankfully, only a few hundred yards from home.
That was some trail, Beeflicker.
Next week - VENUE CHANGE - DETAILS POSTED ASAP
ON ON to next week!
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