Thanks to Beefy for laying a trail that could only be described as 'the big tease.' An anticlockwise route around the bounds of Ashburton, 5 long/short splits gave plenty of opportunity to take a quick route home (more on that later), and with a long run of 11km (though some made 14km), down downs aplenty, new hash names, and welcome back to returnees Erection and Manopause. This one had it all.
Who was there:
Able, Beefkr, Erection, Forest, Georgy, Hornie, Beefy, Judge, Manopause, Melon Picker, Missinn, Missmash, Pisswell, Piltdown, Pocket Rocket, Pork Torpedo, Smash, Strapon, Strap dancer, Warm Front, Wet Jonny, Woodlend, Sam and Harry [jungle bunny]., Judge Mental
Pocket GM introduced the hash, reminding all about the curry night next Friday. I am sure Weatherspoons featured in the announcement too!
Determined not to lose sight of his staff for fear of thieving hash-dermeanours, he ran with it all the way round. Like a sword in each hand, and hair like a viking warrior, who would dare mess with this Rocket!
The length of the hash and various long/short splits clearly took some planning and laying, as the whispers of concern for Beefy grew louder as he stumbled over his words to describe what was before us. Was the trail laid with chalk or flour? Was it 3 and on? How many splits? Which way first? The poor chap seemed exhausted before we started. Confession enlightened he had re-run the route in chalk, for fear the flour had already been kicked out.
Start we did, heading away from town centre, and quickly veered to the right though locals' well walked fields, back to the North East tip of Ashburton, before looping into Bore Wood. The first long climb led us up and away from the town.
I have learned in hashing terms, that if you don't see a flour mark for half a mile, something's probably gone wrong with your powers of observation, rather than the trail itself. Myself, Miss Inn, Pocket Rocket, Wet Johnny and Pisswell scratched our heads. Pisswell shot off down a lane, while the rest double backed with Pocket mumbling 'yes I think I may have seen a mark just down here by the stile.' Sure enough we found the stile, found the mark, and not before calling back Pisswell, we resumed the trail, On On!
Wet Johnny took a short, leaving Miss Inn running solo following overgrown hedgerows, Pocket's 6th sense came into play as he was certain we were being followed. Sure enough Man Pig joined this group, while Piswell and Pocket dropped off the pace and were not seen until the pub. More on that later.
As I write this I have to confess to not having a clue where exactly all the long/short splits occurred, who took them, and how many variations of the same hash were possible in one evening. But through darkening streets and paths we strode, head torches straining to find the marks, then like an archangel at the crest of a hill, Beefy appeared, to keep us on track, counting off his hashers one by one. On On.
The route led its way back towards Ashburton, and with the Bay Horse virtually in sight, and the promise of wet refreshments, when lo and behold another long /short split. How cruel. What a tease. Without a word, we headed on the long, away from town (again). Inside, if I'm honest, I was grumbling just a little!
The route ended along a section of old railway line (so said Man Pig), before weaving through town to return to the Bay Horse
While all were sinking their pints and enjoying the warmth, Pocket Rocket and Pisswell finally arrived, Pocket clearly suffering from his own 14km run to celebrate his 50th hash and longest long. His staff, once a sword in two hands, now served as walking poles on his final legs home!
Down Downs
Beefy - In the boot for a bootiful trail
Pocket Rocket - for achieving his first 50 runs, and completing the long.
Warm Front - for suggesting Beefy's backup chalk marks resembled hieroglyphics.
Strap Dancer - for presenting herself at a hash with virgin shoes
Able Seaman - for achieving her 1000th hash run.
Erection - for wearing a hat that didn't fit, so Pisswell suggessted he drink out of it!
The mess on the floor was the perfect position for the naming of Harry, Brenda's (Pisswell) son. He appears every year for a month or 3, then disappears back to the jungles of Borneo. 'It's only an hour from Singapore' he says, omitting the 10 hour route through tracks that Ordnance Survey could not describe.
Now named for hash purposes only - Jungle Bunny! Hopefully we'll see him again next Spring.
I do solemnly swear and affirm that the events described herein are as best as I can recall.
Judge Mental
No comments:
Post a Comment