TVH3 The Words for 24th March 2025

The Highweek Inn, Newton Abbot

Run No. 2068 Awards' Night

 

HARE: Poacher

 

Who wuz there: Poacher, Man-Pig, Shitfaced, Forrest-Stump, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Beeflicker, Beefy, Pisswell, Psycho, Coldtits, Smellie, Roger the Dodger, Well Hopped, Big End, Ernie, Strap-On, Sarah, Red Rum, Smash, Miss Mash, Wet-Johnny, Only Here for the Beer, Two Little Schitz, Ablesemen, Slip-on-Me, Wetfart, Polyfella, Judgemental, Pocket Rocket, Archangel, Base Camp and Threesum

 

Circle

As per usual on an Awards Night, the car park filled early but everyone appeared to get parked satisfactorily. The roadworks inn Newton Abbot only resulted in two latecomers. Sarah, who just made the Circle and Polyfella who didn't!

 

The Circle commenced with Threesum collecting names for eaters. A heavily subsidised chilli con carne with baked potato at £5/head was on the menu. Noshing headcount over it was over to the RA.....possible for the last time. Shitfaced announced that he would soon be standing down from his position as RA due to work commitments. Accordingly, the Hash would have to put their thinking hats on and put themselves, or their choice of candidate, forward. Currently only Man-Pig has been pressganged volunteered to fill the position.

 

Smellie needs a Hare for the end of April.

 

Now it is over to the Hare. Poacher advises that: "The trail has everything" but we never did get clarification as to whether that included a Walkers' trail. However, there was definitely a Long and a Shorts' trail out there somewhere.

 

Trail

The evening was comparatively mild and dry. This was a good start, especially on a Poacher trail as you never know what you're going to get.

 

The first check was at the entrance to the pub car park. Hashers checked hither and thither eventually picking up marks going down Pitt Hill Road and then turning left along the footpath that leads onto the downs below Highweek Church. There ensued a lot of navel gazing or running around in circles until we were called "on" down Church Walk. But not for long as Poacher had us scrambling over a hedge for another loop around the down before continuing down Church walk to Exeter Road. 

 

At the roundabout, there was another check that took us onto the footpath that runs westward behind Knowles Hill School. Back onto Pitt Hill Road for a short while and then up Coombeshead Road before an arrow had us take a left and down another footpath to Ashburton Road.

 

Up to this point, the FRB's had alternated between, Psycho, Beeflicker, Wet-Johnny and Man-Pig....surely Beefy must have been at the front at some stage? 

 

Across the Ashburton Road and drop through a small park until we hit the River Lemon and turn left on the tarmac footpath that eventually runs past Sainsbury's. But we never got that far.

 

From this point on, I get confused. There is some trotting about in a residential area and a Long/Short split. Poacher takes the Longs up a narrow footpath and then off piste. I think we are in Bradley Woods. We climb up a long and steep, wild garlic covered hill to its top. There is not a sign of a track or rabbit run anywhere. The garlic is both pungent and slippery. Once at the top, we have to do the same down the other side.We drop down another slippery wooded slope. I can just see Poacher and Wet-Johnny's torchlight ahead of me. Behind me are Psycho and Beefy who are both threatening to fall like a house of cards on the poor Pig.

 

Eventually, we arrive onto a broad rocky track and head left for about 200 yards before hitting a check, but this time on a tarmac footpath. There is a call of "On" to our right from Beeflicker. We run parallel with a small leat to our right. I am sure that we are in Bradley Woods just below Bradley Manor. We pass the last Long short split and cross a small bridge over the River lemon and grind to a halt at a check. Poacher has forgotten where he is and needs illumination from Psycho. 

 

After a bit of scurrying around with Psycho's head torch Poacher marks the trail up a steep bank. In fact a bloody steep and high hill. Normally this would have been manageable. But it would have been better if Poacher had allowed Psycho to simply lend him her head torch. Joined at the head like some abominable circus attraction from the 19th century the pair commenced their ascent of the north face of the Eiger. These were closely followed by Wet-Johnny and Pisswell, who had caught us up whilst the headless duo were trying to find the trail. The Pig was tail end-charlie.

 

Just below its peak, a fallen tree impeded progress even further. Poacher calls back, "Watch your head". Too late. Wet-Johnny is bloodied and Pisswell is out of earshot. In an almost perfect replay Pisswell crawls under the tree and attempts to get up. Bang. She's hit her head on the same bit of tree as Wet-Johnny and crumples to the floor. A little dizzy, but otherwise unscathed, the sextuple continue on their way; this time down the mountain and onto the upper footpath. 

 

We pass the Puritans' Pit which always looks rather ghostly at night with its large crucifix. But tonight, we'd all be OK. No vampires were going to get anywhere near us for we were all reeking of the wild garlic which had impregnated our trainers.

 

Inevitably, we arrive at the Ford. An arrow has us pointing away from East Ogwell and across the Lemon.......bridge or ford. It's a tough choice but all six Longs maintain 12 dry feet as we commence our climb up the track that leads to Ogwell Mill Road. The last time that I had been up here the mill was a ruin. It appears to have been knocked down and rebuilt as a modern home....nice but no character.

 

The final leg has us arrive at the Ashburton Road at its junction with Barton Drive. It is left and then right and up the two footpaths (unusually dry for this time of year) that lead us back onto Coomeshead Road and the "OH" sign.

 

Back in the pub car park just before 9; a perfectly planned trail by Poacher and our only casualties are two sore heads.

 

Down-Downs

Back in the pub Forrest-Stump and Man-Pig are intercepted by Shitfaced before they can get to the bar.

"We want to get on with The Awards. Get the Down-Downs done as quickly as possible...all at the same time".

 

We had every intention of pandering to the whims of our gerrymandering GM but this would have to wait for another half an hour as the food was just coming out of the kitchen....one by one.

 

Scoff over, the Forrest-Pig duet spring into action. The Hare (Poacher), the head bangers (Wet-Johnny & Pisswell), Beefy and Sarah were called up, front and centre to receive their Down-Downs for various misdemeanours on trail.....mainly head banging and a being a drama queen. This was accompanied by a note for the head bangers.

 

Well, that was nice and quick so over to The Awards.

 

The Awards

After faffing around with his iPhone and its windscreen mounting holder, Shitfaced gets the show on the road. In addition to a T-shirt, the 2024 Awards winners will each receive a bag of flour. How topical! However, these are no ordinary bags of flour. Within each bag is a hidden gift.  

 

This immediately takes me back to my youth when my brothers and I used to badger mum to buy Kelloggs corn flakes. This was because the TV ads were promoting a free plastic toy in each pack.

The following morning we would all want cornflakes for breakfast. Each one of us hoping that the toy would drop out and into our bowl. It never did. It was always at the bottom of the pack. this resulted in the entire contents of the box being poured out over the kitchen table in order to retrieve the small plastic object of our desires. There then followed a hurried, and usually botched, attempt to get all of the cornflakes back into the box before Mum re-entered the kitchen. Almost inevitably, some cornflakes had made it onto the kitchen floor.....Mum was never impressed. But I digress

.

Shitfaced starts by thanking Threesum and, I think, an absent Zoot for arranging the T-shirts and arranging the venue for the Awards Night. Then it is straight into The Awards in no particular order.

Shitfaced announces that some Awards have been dropped this year, including Scribe of the Year; others have been combined i.e. hare of the Year and Best Lay of the Year, some have been remade and a new category of Groomer of the Year has been introduced.

 

First up is Harriet of the Year. The top three candidates name are read out and the winner, in this case the thoroughly deserving Pisswell is called up to collect her T-shirt and jolly useful bag of flour. regrettably, for all awards I cannot recall the names of those mentioned in dispatches but who fell a smidgen short of taking the top prize.

 

Hare of the Year goes to Poacher. Again, a deserving winner.

 

Hasher of the Year is awarded to Beefy, always there, reliable and many a magnificent trail to boot.

 

Newcomer of the Year goes to Pocket Rocket who is so delighted that he texts Runner Bean to rub it in. Don't you just love little brothers?

 

Best Sweetie/Drinks' Stop of the Year has many deserving contenders. My favourite was Ernie's strawberries and cream washed down with a Pimms refeshment stop. Although this was a runner up the votes had been cast and Beeflicker's wheeled pop-up bar was the winner. I am not sure that Psycho can remember much about that particular Hash.

 

Groomer of the Year goes to Pisswell - the only person to win two awards...but it might have been more.

 

On-Down of the Year is shortlisted to: The Park Inn, Beefy's Place and Tinkley Bottom. And the winner is......Tinkley Bottom! Forrest promises that he will have another firework hash there later this year!

 

Club Hasher of the Year goes to Piltdown Man for all his work in the background. At this point, the runners up are also invited up for a drink-off. The runners up are Psycho and Smellie. This is not quite your ordinary Down-Down. The trio line up behind a table. Each contestant has in front of them a half pint of beer and a half pint of water with a lemon in it. The rules....there are no rules in the Hash.......are to drink both glasses with one hand behind you back.

 

The gathered ensemble of TVH3 Hashers do not place bets and no money changes hands as this is going to be a one horse race. The dead cert is Psycho....and, let's face it, she's had enough experience this year. The thoroughbred finishes both glasses just as Smellie is starting on her water....but she is still progressing at a commendable lick. Not so Piltdown Man. Our three legged donkey has inadvertently strayed onto the course for the St Ledger. He is only one third of the way through his beer when the race is won. The Harriets have it. The Harriets have it. All rise.

 

And finally the...errrr....grand finale. Pillock of the Year. This goes to Only here for the Beer but there is no explanation forthcoming from our Master of Ceremonies as to the reason why. Maybe it was building his log cabin too close to the woods or perhaps it was the open brazier burning away next to a giant roll of hay - twice? Perhaps, we will never know?

 

Our winners then don their respective shirts for the obligatory Awards' photo for posterity and the evening is done for another year.

 

Next week

Next week's Hash is from the Pig and Whistle, Littlehempston. We haven't been there for a while. Our Hare is Best Sweetie Stop award winner - Beeflicker.

 

On-On to next week, M-P