THE KING CANUTE RUN

 

TVH3 The Words for 16th October 2023  

Royal British Legion, Newton Abbot

Run No. 1991

HARE: Beeflicker & Jane (now Squeaky Bum)

Who wuz there: Beeflicker, Squeaky Bum, Man-Pig, Hotlips, Zoot, Forrest-Stump, Piltdown Man, Smellie, Big End, Well Hopped, Melonpicker, Soapy, Palmolive, Strap-On, Strap-Dancer, Fukarewe, Beefy, Coldtits, Wet Johnny, Manopause, Erection, Threesum, Cheerio Beerio & U-Bend (circle only).

Circle

A phonecall to U-Bend advised that Shitfaced would not be in attendance this evening. In Shitfaced's absence, U-Bend made a special journey into Newton Abbot as stand-in RA. Seeing as U-Bend wasn't running, or hanging around for a beer, this was dedication.....or, maybe he was popping into Motomart to buy an indicatator bulb?

Smellie had slots available for Hares from 22 November onwards. She also needed numbers for food; simple fare, pasties (cheese & onion or meat) or sausage rolls. These needed to be ordered before the run.

Beefy put in a plug for next week's Hash at the Church House, Widecombe-in-the- Moor. Due to yakking in the Circle the pack very nearly didn't get to hear the most important information regarding next week's Hash, "Free food and donations for bottled beer". Fantastic.

Eventually, we got around to hearing from the Hare who, this week, was being ably assisted by Jane. In established Hash  fashion the pack was treated to, well, err, a pack of lies:

"If you're doing the Long you may get wet feet. But there is an option to use a bridge" - porkie pie!

There was an implied suggestion that those on the Shorts would not, therefore, be getting wet feet - porkie pie!

"Longs will be about 6.5 miles" - lie. Well, actually this might have been true but my elderly Garmin only recorded 4.57 miles.

"There is a Shorts' trail" - true.

Walkers' trail - I wasn't listening.

The Trail

Time and tide wait for no man. Oh, how true. Something that King Canute found out to his cost. In the intervening 1200 years or so, it appears that the lesson hasn't been learned. Read on Dear Hasher....or should that be swimmer?

The trail took us out of the Cricketfield car park and right towards the firestation. A check at the Memorial Hall had the pack climbing the steep steps behind the Hall. 

 

Half-way up the steps was the Walkers'/Long & Shorts' split with the Walkers turning right and down a different set of steps. The Longs and the Shorts carried on up the steps to another check. 

 

The trail went right and across a road and then along Seymour Road eventually dropping down onto the roundabout near Knowles Hill School. 

 

At this point, Man-Pig was leading the pack with Beefy and Fukarewe in hot pursuit. Another check had us going right and downhill to the roundabout near the new Newton Abbot hospital.

 

The trail then took us onto the footpath beside the Stover canal. This is where we encountered a large number of head torches heading towards us.

"How on earth did the Walkers get in front of us?" I thought. Bong! Wrong. It was the Teignbridge Trotters who clearly didn't expect anyone to be on the same path as them at that time of night. We all heaved to as they rampaged through.....path hogs! 

 

The Long/Short split came where the footpath meets the Exeter Road. The Shorts returned towards Newton Abbot on the narrower footpath on the other side of the redundant railway line. For the Longs, however, it was virgin territory. Bravo!

Arrows had us climb up and over walls and onto the railway line. The Longs' were only four strong: Beefy, Man-Pig, Fukarewe and Beeflicker. Fortunately, Man-Pig and Beefy both have PTS* cards so we guided our non-PTS colleagues across concrete sleepers, washed out ballast (obviously not of the glued variety), around fallen trees, through out-of-control buddleia and along the edges of unsafe safe-cesses. All very interesting. 

 

At Teigngrace, we were treated to some nostalgia in the form of a restored vintage motorcycle. After some bike chat, we were on our way again and a check on the cycle path.

 

We headed south for only a few yards before another check. Now we traversed two fields to arrive at the banks of the River Teign.

Man-Pig had missed an arrow, and was on a mission back to Exeter Road only to be called back. Fukarewe had found the arrow that marked the river crossing. We could also see a mark on the opposite bank. Wet feet time beckoned...or did it?

"How deep is it?" Fukarewe asked the Hare.

"I don't know. I used the bridge 50 yards up there", pointing northwards.

The not so brave, FRBs elected for the bridge.....woolybacks all of them, but dry woolybacks nevertheless.

The trail now followed the east bank of the Teign south to the Exeter Road where we rejoined the Shorts. After 3/4 mile, we came upon a perplexed Beefy who was looking forlornly at a mark. It was an arrow pointing down into the bottom of the Stover Canal. Another mark was on the far bank. Being a canal, it should have come as no surprise that it contained water. However, it was most certainly a surprise to the Hare.

"There wasn't any water there when I laid it....and it hasn't been raining!"

"Well, there's water there now." Looking at the weed growth in the canal, it was difficult to ascertain how deep and muddy the crossing would be. It looked at least 8 inches but it could have been 18 inches. We all agreed to remain dry and follow the path back to Jetty Marsh roundabout. It wasn't far now, and we would have dry trainers if we wanted to go running tomorrow. It was a sensible decision - especially in the dark. So off we trotted, smug in our warm, dry trainers.

The smugness and warmth evaporated within 150 yards. Before us the tow path was flooded. We were heading back to Newton Abbot on a flood tide, albeit a neap tide. Initially, we were running through 2 inches of water. Then 4 inches. Then 6 inches and then we were back on terra firma. That wasn't too bad. Then another stretch of flooded path...maybe 8 inches deep at best. Having cleared that stretch of water it was only 200 yards to Jetty Marsh roundabout. At least it would be dry as our feet were now getting decidedly chilly. Bugger, spoke too soon, the last 150 yards maxed out at 14 inches deep.

At the roundabout, the trail took us over the pedestrian crossing before dropping back down onto the tow path. All was dry......for about 80 yards. We almost ground to a halt as the water's depth rose to 18 inches. Man-Pig had hitched up his shorts like a little girl. His knackers weren't going to get any closer to the freezing water if he could help it. 

 

Just behind the Avenue, a concrete ramp afforded a dry escape route from the rapidly rising tide. Beeflicker called time on the final leg of original trail and we bailed out for the short, squidgy run back to the Cricketfield car park.

What a thoroughly enjoyable run. This was made all the more enjoyable by the unexpected tidal conditions, and virgin territory to boot. Excellent. Well done Beeflicker and Jane.

Down-Downs

The Royal British Legion made us very welcome. I think this is the first time that we have run from here. At the bar, the talk was all about the last leg of the trail. The Shorts had made it almost to the tunnel under the railway line not too far from Tuckers Maltings. By this time, they were in at least 18 inches of water and it was impossible to identify where the tow path stopped and the canal started. They all, sensibly, had turned back. The Longs would have been about 20 minutes behind them and it was a rapidly rising tide. Had we continued, I think we would have found ourselves in deep water [sic].

Forest-Stump had, at least, partially recovered from last week's double jab. Hence he assumed RA duties for the evening. He commenced by thanking the pub for the beer (which Smellie had hastily arranged on the night) so a big "Thankyou" to the RBL.

First up was Fukarewe to give away his Jester's hat. this went to the Hare for an excellent trail on virgin, if somewhat illegal, territory. Beeflicker got a half pint of very cold Tetleys ale accompanied by "Hold it in your hand Mrs Murphy...."

Forest-Stump suggested that an early naming might be in order. Apparently, before the trail, the co-hare had admitted to having got very sweaty when laying the trail earlier in the day. So sweaty in fact that the cheeks of her bum were squeaking. We didn't even need a vote on the name. Man-Pig had Jane on her knees whilst he ordained her (and Perry) with liberal amounts of Holy Water. Henceforth, Jane will now be known as "Squeaky Bum".

Man-Pig had the Baby Bat Hat from last week. Given the porkies emanating from the circle regarding "opportunities for a dry alternative", the Pig awarded the baby Bat Hat to Beeflicker. This was ostensibly for not having consulted the tide tables for a run along a tidal estuary. Appropriately, the Down-Down was water.

Beefy had the Checking Chicken Hat. You may recall that yakking in the Circle interrupted Beefy's briefing for next week's run. Who was the guilty party? Hot Lips who was having difficulty with his R's...unable to distinguish "one" from "run".

Erection had the, unwashed, Hashshit shirt. This he awarded to Fukarewe who has a nice new hybrid BMW. Apparently, you can talk to it and it will do what you ask. Amazing. This is much more responsive than a wife. Hence the Down-Down was accompanied by, "Get a wife. Get a wife, wife, wife".

There was still a half pint of ale to go but no awards. Are there any stories? Beeflicker piped up with a story of absent-mindedness. Despite having run from the Cricketfield car park three times this year, Smellie had phoned Beeflicker to ask, "Where is the Cricketfield car park?" In fairness, she was asking on Piltdown Man's behalf as he was the driver. Piltdown stepped up to drink his very cold beer very slowly.

Next week

Next week's Hash is Beefy's delayed birthday hash. The On-Down is NOT AT A PUB. It is at the Church House which is next to the large car park in Widecombe-in-the-Moor. Beefy is providing free home cooked food. If his flan and flap jacks are anything to go by, it will be very good fare. Bring cash for a donation towards the bottled beers.

On-On to next week.