TIME & TIDE WAIT FOR NO MAN - OR HASHER

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!