THE WORDS according to Beefy with supporting B feature

 

Run #2080 Monday 16th June

Court Farm Inn, Abbotskerswell

Hare: Strap-On

 

Popcorn is available in the foyer before taking your seats. The ice cream lady will be selling Kia Ora orange juice and choc ices at the interval. And now, dispensing with Pearl & Dean, curtains up for the feature.

 

Writer's block... who would have thought that someone who writes very rarely could have it? Am I sitting comfortably? No but, I am wearing my Freudian slippers, I have a Napoleon shandy to hand and I consider those who look forward to The Words being published as prospectors of fools gold.

 

I arrived at the Court Farm Inn, astride my trusty bicycle, as I am wont to do in less inclement weather, to find Hare, Strap On, in full beer top gear with Bee Flicker and Poacher as earlier arrivals.

 

Gradually, the car park filled with Hashers. As we all know, time is an allusion (sic) and Hash Time merely an affectation so, eventually, Piltdown Man called the Hash to order sometime after 7.20.

 

There were a few notices: Pork Torpedo invited us all to to His and Hornie's home to celebrate Hornie's Birthday on 5th July... the same day the Man Pig is laying the Devon A to B Trail.

 

Pisswell reminded us about the Widecombe barn dance the morning after which there will be a Hare of the Dog Trail as Hash #2082 (I think.) SMEllie said she wanted Venues confirmed for Trails booked, please. There might have been other stuff.

 

At the Circle were: Strap On, Strap Dancer, Cheerio Beerio, Bee Flicker, Slip on Me, Able Semen, Forrest Stump, Wet Johnny, Smash, Miss Mash, Bog Roll(?), Poacher, Piltdown Man, Georgie P'Orgy, Pisswell, Psycho, Warm Front, Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Pocket Rocket, SMEllie, Fukarwe, Bluebird, Archangel, Man Pig, Palmolive, Beefy and a gentleman from the Lunatics. Late to arrive was van commando and persistent former GM, Shitfaced who, resplendent in his beer-drinking flip flops, saw little of the evening's Trail.

 

The Hare had informed us of a sheep field on a Long/Short split and asked that no dogs were to go through. Also, for the Longs, there was an extra loop marked "LL". There was a safety brief in the form of an instruction not to follow Fukarwe if you happen to be lost on Trail: you're preaching to the choir, Strap On!

 

So, it was On through the pedestrian access to a Check on Slade Lane. On right and soon we overtook the Walkers with the Hare leading. On, and up, we went: up that hill, which is not a favourite of Wet Johnny's, we hear.

 

At the summit, we espied an indication of the promised VPs. We turned left into Yolhey (yes) Lane and On into Bitney Lane where we were treated to a brace of VPs overlooking agricultural land and, at the second, a distant view of The Priory retirement village where Psycho had been working that very afternoon. Coincidence? Yes. This was a "there and back again" diversion for us (Poacher, Bee Flicker, Warm Front, Psycho, Wet Johnny and Beefy) and, on our way back we met Man Pig running the other way.

 

Back onto Slade Lane, and so to the cross roads to encounter Maddacombe Road and Whiddon Road. "Isn't that where Only Here for the Beer's place is?" asked Bee Flicker. "It was." replied Beefy.

We continued along Bickley road where an arrow took us up through the woods to another VP. This one overlooking Stoneycombe quarry. Always worth a look no matter how many times we have been there and looking good under the descending Sun.

 

The Trail led us to Dainton where we caught up with FRB Pisswell, who went ahead by missing the the first VPs and maintained her lead.

 

We found a check in front of the bungalow by the Rape field. Warm Front and Beefy checked wrongly (knowingly) and returned to join the rest for a slightly different route through. Visual contact with Warm Front was lost temporarily but, a call to her was met with a reassuring call back.

 

Out onto Marldon which took us to the "Long Long" across Totnes Road into Moor Road then the pathways to Fermoys. The very well marked Trail took us along Totnes Road and right down Whiddon Road to the sheep field. Bee Flicker and Beefy decided to walk around the perimeter. It was a noisy experience with some sheep approaching us and others moving away but all bleating.

 

By the time we reached the outbound gate, Pisswell, Warm Front, Psycho and Wet Johnny caught up by walking straight across the field. Minutes later, we were suddenly back at the On-down where the rest of the Hash was sitting at various tables, with a drink, looking as if they had been there all afternoon.

Well done, Strap On. It was a very enjoyable Trail. Plenty of variety and well laid. Thank you.

 

As for the Down-downs? Well... Beefy was awarded the Union Flag top hat for jogging around the CP to make up the mileage. Guilty, for a mere 0.05 mile, it was worth it.

 

The uncaged 'Bird was singing joyfully on Trail much to the annoyance of Forrest who, it seems, passed him on to Fukarwe, who made a welcome return after hurting himself, quite badly, falling off a motorcyclist. Welcome back, Fukarwe!

 

Poacher got one for something which I don't recall. Wet Johnny got Shitfaced's (how do you say that?) Propeller head hat from Psycho, I think, but for what I know not. Able Semen got one. Did she "write it"? Had she "left it"? I don't know but, Pisswell sang a song all "about it"! Eventually, RA Forrest gave one to the Hare and, very well deserved it was.

 

On on Beefy.

 

INTERVAL lights up and Ice cream lady

 

B feature (B for Bird you fools)

 

FUKARWE'S REDEMPTION 

Recalling the previous week's shock to the system, the Bird did a half mile loosener, arriving upon the circle from the village entrance .

 

Many and varied were the announcements, most going in one ear and... but I do recall Pork Torpedo giving out a hash welcome to Hornie's special Birthday Party on Saturday 5th July, message PT for address. The rest escaped me as Strap-On patiently waited to get a word in.

 

The all important (vital for some) distances were delivered like a crack of impending doom: Long about six, long long (so long, let me know how you get on) perhaps the Magnificent Seven, shorts FOUR AND A HALF ... no-o-o-ooo and walkers just tag along with the hare who is about to lay it.

 

The hare then elaborated on his grand scheme with warnings galore. A private road, he'd talked to some residents roundabouts who didn't seem keen but avowed that we'd be rolling (rolling, rolling, keep them..) through anyway.

 

There was a field with many thousands of sheep (two hundred actually but I want to engender a little excitement as you seem to be nodding off) so keep all doggies tethered.

 

The icing on the hash [sic] cake was the promise of glorious viewpoints along the way - this doubtless adding mileage.

 

Finally, Strap-On launched into a fierce tirade aimed at the unfortunate Fukarwe 'Every trail I've ever laid, Fukarwe has messed it up! Don't do it this evening!'

 

And with that excellent rendition, we were mercifully released.

 

A few hundred yards after the off, a blonde pony-tailed lady (singalong with me - Chantilly Lace) was seen exiting her chariot in running attire. Poacher informed that it was Vampire from AH3. We never sighted her again so whether she joined us or not is a Miss Terry... no, well please...

 

The second check was by the Butchers Arms turn off. Closed in 2013 and now sadly designated as residential housing., a few of our seasoned hashers can recall this great OD, happy days.

 

Beeflicker was dutifully checking it out but the dastardly Poacher and his crony swept past up the hill with nary a pause. The Bird had been sighted by Archangel out on his loosener which had taken him up the leafy lane by the derelict pub. HA!

 

However, the Bird played the white man at the next check halfway up the hill as Poach loitered ready to kick the direction. Blast it, a cross, and back the Bird staggered, muttering to himself.

 

The mistaka had been costly as the vanguard was now upon us - Wet Johnny, Warmfront, the Pig, Forrest and Pisswell. The meeting was short-lived, however, as a L/S split and a VP tour came into play.

 

Hard a starboard did Forrest, Muttley and the Bird veer, leaving a disconsolate but much fitter Pisswell for the moment on her lonesome.

 

Forrest and the Bird had been having a right old natter until suddenly Forrest became aware that we hadn't seen any marks for a while. Just as Forrest cried 'mark alert!', we heard a shout behind us. It was Fukarwe calling us back.

 

The Bird was suspicious - especially recalling the dire warning at the circle. At a junction, Fukarwe pointed to a mark on the corner. I was wondering when he'd spot that...

 

The three veteran hashers continued though the Bird was dubious indeed. 'If it isn't down here, it'll go badly for you in the pub!' But the Bird was mistaken - we were only on! Hurrah! for Fukarwe, he's only saved us! All previous misdemeanours forgiven.

 

Onwards coursed the ag-ed gladiators - but there was a problemo. Forrest noticed that Muttley (thought it was Perry but apparently it was Mitch) was beginning to lag quite badly. Forrest was worried but not as worried as the Bird who had visions of carrying the afflicted Muttley back to the ranch-house - shades of the time he had carried Blaster's Crusher back after his legs had failed. Was that nigh on a score years ago?

 

Slower and slower went poor Muttley and then, abruptly, he stopped and had an enormous poop. Oh, the relief (for Muttley, you fools) and with that, Muttley bounded away. Problemo solv-ed!

 

Fukarwe peeled off onto the next long split, leaving Bird, Muttley and Forrest to continue their merry way past Able and Slip on Me and into the forbidding Private Road with an additional discouraging legend 'NO DOGS ALLOWED' posted at the entrance.

 

I didn't know where I was and I'd just been there. It seemed like the drive to a stately home and cautiously did the tiny cavalcade proceed.

 

Navigated without any kerfuffle, we passed the forties black and white striped post and descended to come out, most unexpectedly, outside the Court Farm entrance! With just 5K on the Garmin, it was just the ticket - the shortened version of the short owing to us omitting the VP option. Forrest went to stop his tech and recorded 0.01 - he hadn't started it, whatamistaka to have mada..

 

Nice trail, Strap-On, I cannot remember having done it that way round before and it completely disorientated me. If I had been by myself I would have ended up in Coffinswell,

 

Good Boy, Fukarwe, hero of the hour!

 

Hasta luego, El Pajaro

 

Next week: A Dartmoor epic from Cold East Cross with Beefy. OD The Rugglestone.