TO HAL(DON) AND BACK! by Man-Pig

RUN #1890 Monday 15th November

 

VENUE: King William IV, Totnes

HARE: Wet (himself)-Johnny

 

ROLL CALL: Wet-Johnny, Man-Pig, Shit-Faced, Piltdown-Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Strap-On, Tamsin & partner, Alexis and partner, Triple Jump, Able Semen, Hot Lips, Zoot, Cheerio Beerio, Fallen Woman, Broken Man, Beefy, Pisswell, Coldtits, Rambo, Roxanne, Mini-Penners (Harry, Ilya + another 4), Manopause, Big-End & Ned, Well-Hopped, Satnav, Threesum, Wetfart, Only here for the Beer......and all of Haldon Hash! (see later)

 

IN ABSENTIA: Bluebird (injured) and Bobbiball (growing a 'tache)

 

THE CIRCLE

We circled up outside what I believe is a new On-Down for Teign Valley - The King William IV pub. There was no need to be apprehensive with regards, "Would the pub be hash friendly?" as the landlord, Rob, was the former landlord of the Dartmouth Inn at the bottom of town. Announcements were brief. Shitfaced announced that he had tickets for sale for the TVH3 Xmas party - £7 members, £12 non-members. Threesum announced that she had draw tickets and Fallen Women confirmed that there would be fish and chips at her annual Brixham Christmas Carol hash (13 December); please pay £6 in advance for the fish and chips and BYOB. No virgins or other announcements so it was over to the Hare, Wet-Johnny.

 

The trail would be about 2 miles for the Walkers; 4 for the Shorts and 6 for the Longs; there are two Long/Short splits. There would also be a sweetie stop. "Go".

 

THE TRAIL

The trail took us down Station Road towards Morrisons' petrol station and then right towards Brutus Bridge. The usual suspects of Beefy and Big End took the lead with Smellie in a surprising third place; no doubt on a mission to burn off Friday night's Chinese takeaway!

 

Just before Brutus Bridge, an arrow directed us down onto the footpath on the banks of the Dart. Here the marks became jolly difficult to see amongst the fallen leaves. Wet-Johnny had used sawdust instead of flour on this stretch. this was so as to avoid marks in flour being eaten by dog walkers! I think he meant the dog walkers' dogs. The head torches dimmed behind us as the three FRB's blazed their way to the first Long/Short split which was at the lower entrance to Dartington Hall.

 

An arrow directed the Longs into Nellie's Wood and an uphill arc which exited into a flat field on high ground. The trail meandered along two sides of the field before an arrow directed us over a locked gate.

As we climbed over the gate, we could just see torches entering the field some 400 yards behind us...."The mini-Penners" we guessed. A peculiar concrete track consisting solely of two strips of concrete, an axle-width apart from each other, traversed a large open and relatively flat field. I'm not exactly sure that this was a public footpath. On exiting this field, we rejoined tarmac and also joined up with Haldon Hash.

 

The marks were a little confusing and blurred at this point. I had assumed (incorrectly) that the plethora of marks included the second Long/Short split. That was until a helpful Shortie (Haldon H3) said, "You're going straight down the road Man-Pig". And so we did, meeting most of Haldon Hash, looking perplexed, coming the other way.

 

At Shinner's Bridge, more confusing blurred marks until we worked out that the blurs were where Haldon had differentiated their marks by marking them with an "H". The blurs were where the "H's" had been kicked out. Satisfied that we were on trail, Big-End and I crossed the A385 and commenced the ascent up to the Cott Inn.

 

At the top of this ascent is a footp[ath on the left that drops back down into Totnes. It was bound to be this one. It wasn't. The trail took us right and behind the Cott Inn until we came to a cross. We had missed a check. Doubling back we found a kicked-out check and a narrow footpath that took us down to Redlake Cross and away from Totnes. "How far is Wet-Johnny taking us?" I cried.

 

At Redlake Cross, an arrow directed us left and uphill. At the first junction, it was right towards Copland and Peek Plantation. Then the final check, but not kicked out - most peculiar as Beefy always religiously kicks out all the checks.

 

Unbeknown to us, Beefy had run straight past this check and was now heading towards Follaton House on an unmarked trail. We were soon on a spur off Coplands Lane. Sure enough, at the point where the spur joins Coplands Lane, an arrow had us cantering down Coplands Lane to the bottom of the Western Bypass which would be the "On-Home".....or was it? Big End was sure that we'd only done one Long. I was sure that we'd done two Longs. We would find out soon enough.

 

Crossing the Western Bypass, Wet-Johnny greeted with a tin of Cadbury's Celebrations. Pointing up the Western Bypass, the hare gave out the dread news: "Take a big breath. The second Long is up there." It can't be far I thought.....turn left at the top of town near the closed Kingsbridge Inn. Wrong again.

We had to continue the ascent to K2 (OK, the Old Toll House) before the relief of an arrow taking us down Fishchowter's Lane to Moat Hill. At Moat Hill an arrow pointed left....uphill again, but not for long, before another arrow took us down a pretty much obscured narrow footpath near Magdelene Close and through Grove Close and thence Victoria Road. We arrived back at the car park bang on 8.30. But, where was Beefy?

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

The Down-Downs commenced with thanking Rob, the Landlord, for the beers and his hospitality. The RA passed on a message from Forrest Stump apologising for his absence and the corresponding absence of the Hashshit shirt. Forrest had been compelled to attend rehearsals for the pantomime. "Oh no he wasn't" was the retort from the baying hashers.....I hate Christmas! On to the Down-Downs:

First up was Wet-Johnny as Hare. Once again an excellent trail and well marked. And this despite the overlap with Haldon Hash. Hence a note for "To Hal(don) and Back".

 

The second award was going to be a virtual award until Wet-Johnny produced the Jester's Hat and gave it to Arkangel to award. Arkangel came up with some off-Hash story about bumping into Smellie outside a Chinese takeaway on Friday night. Accordingly a note for "Smerrie....shee too broo...." etc etc in a Chinese accent. All very politically correct!

 

Eventually Pisswell arrived at the pub to award the Horses' Head Hat. This was given to Wet-Johnny for placing checks near pools of urine. Hence a note for, "Wet-himself-Johnny".

 

Two more Down-Downs to dish out, albeit without any accompanying award. Did anyone have any stories? Eventually a timid Satnav relayed a tale of our GM asking Wetfart if he was a member? Wetfart has been hashing with Teign Valley for just shy of 30 years! A note for, "He who should have gone to SpecSavers".

 

In the absence of any more stories, it was decided to award the last Down-Down to Rob the Landlord for his hospitality. He had always run a Hash friendly pub down at the Dartmouth Inn and it looks as though this will now continue at the King William IV. Thank you, Rob.

 

ON ON to next week and the Keyberry Arms, Decoy, Newton Abbot. Hare Bobbiball.....all together now, "Bobbiball, Bobbiball, Bobbiball......."

MONDAY 15TH LOCATION MAP

 

FORREST'S FIREWORK HASH & ROADKILL STEW

TVH3 Run No. 1889 8th November 2021

VENUE: Tinkley Bottom, Teign Valley

HARES: Forrest Stump & Man-Pig

 

ROLL CALL: Forrest Stump (chef), Wood-Lend (pyromaniac), Man-Pig, Shit-Faced, T-Humper, iPoo'd, Just Coming, Piltdown-Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Strap-On, Mrs Strap-On, Kermit & partner, Triple Jump, Gaga4It, Anne, Julie, Cheerio Beerio, Able Semen, Fallen Woman, Broken Man, Beefy, Pisswell, Coldtits, Rambo, Roxanne, Mini-Penners (3), Wet-Johnny, Big-End & Ned, Well-Hopped, Swinger, The Last of the Homohecians (returnee), Ernie (TamarH3), Warm Front, Arkangel, Only Here For the Beer. A few missed in the firelight, my apologies.

IN ABSENTIA: Bluebird (injured) and Bobbiball (headache)

 

 

THE CIRCLE

A fantastically mild and dry Movember evening welcomed TVH back to Tinkley Bottom for what is becoming an established annual event, Forrest's Firework and Roadkill Stew Hash.

The weather had been so dry that no-one had any difficulty in parking in, or exiting from, Forrest's freshly mowed meadow. The Circle announcements comprised Shitfaced advising us that he had tickets for the Christmas Party on Friday 10th December and that was about it. Over to the Hare(s) i.e. Man-Pig as Forrest wanted to concentrate on gastronomy or was that drugging the cat?

Man-Pig announced that this would Shirley be a short trail for a change. This was because we wanted to get everyone back for Forrest's famous roadkill stew and the fireworks. Marks maybe a little confusing as Forrest had laid his parts of the trail in almost invisible sawdust whilst Man-Pig has opted for easy to see flour. 

 

At the Long and Short/Walkers' split, the Walkers would go uphill until they got tired and simply turn around and return from whence they came. At the next split, the Long/Short split, the Shorts would go up a footpath that joined up with the Walkers' trail. The Longs would continue uphill and follow the marks....or lack thereof. Walkers, Longs and Shorts would all be returning via the outward trail - DO NOT GO ROUND AGAIN! Longs circa 4 miles. Shorts nearer 3. Walkers - turn around when you feel like it.

 

THE TRAIL

The trail took us along the edge of the Teign in Forrest's meadow before joining the track that runs in front of Forrest's friendly neighbours. 

 

The first check had Beefy going up towards Trusham only to find a cross. Most hashers ran straight across and continued up the disused Teign Valley railway line. Not surprising really as the check had been kicked out in that direction. However, they all eventually returned as the real trail took us over Crocombe Bridge, across the Teign Valley road, and up towards Hennock.

 

At Leigh Cross, the Walkers veered to the right and up to Teign Village. However, the Walkers' mark was almost invisible having been in sawdust and some Walkers, including Fallen Woman, missed it and carried on - unaware that they were now on the Long and Shorts' trail. The marks alternated between left and right depending on which way Forest was driving at the time and this should have kept hashers on their toes.

 

A little further up the hill, the Shorts trail led up a footpath to the right whilst the Longs continued ever upwards to a check at the next crossroads. However, the check had been partially sabotaged to look like a 'C'. Most of the Longs correctly assumed that the trail continued straight up. However, one Harriet, Swinger, followed the line of the main road to the right. This meant that she arrived at the check at Five lanes from the wrong direction having run through a cross!

 

At the Five Lanes junction, there were a few hashers awaiting divine guidance from the Hare. The Hare pointed them up the relatively obscured public footpath that took them up to Chericombehead.

Strap-On also advised that three hashers had carried straight on (towards Furzeleigh Cross) and had not come back! Sure enough, a minute or so later, Well-Hopped, Big End, Ned and another came cantering back having encountered two crosses! All back on trail it was a simple climb to Chericombehead Cross and another check. 

 

For the first time on trail, we were now embarking on a downhill. Down Bell Lane on the descent into Hennock and the penultimate check just across from the Palk Arms (temporarily closed due to illness).

Two arrows directed us down towards Teign Village but, before reaching the village, the last check had us climbing over a rather obvious stile and traversing a field before exiting back onto the same road just above Teign Village. Here I caught up with Rambo who seemed perfectly happy on a simple trail. We elected to walk the last mile back to the bonfire. We could hardly miss it, illuminating half the valley.

All safely back and accounted for, it was time for Roadkill Stew!

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

The Down-Downs were temporarily delayed due to a logistics issue with the On-Down. Forrest had run out of beer!!!!!! 

 

Man-Pig donated his only bottle of Samuel Smiths IPA and Shitfaced liberated two cans of Copperberg from T-Humper. Eventually we had four drinks to award which were all a ghastly amalgam of beer and cider!

 

Triple Down-Downer of the previous week, Smellie, gave the Horse's head hat to Pisswell. Apparently Pisswell had confessed to Smellie that she had asked Beefy to buy her a strap on. Despite protestations that something had been lost in translation, namely that the strap-on was in-fact a head-torch, the Down-Down went to "Vibra-Girl".

 

Smellie also had the Hashshit shirt to award. Her first choice had been Ernie who had already gone home - presumably in his milk cart. Thus a story ensued about a friendly moggy that had followed Smellie into the bathroom. What a nice little cat, Smellie thought to herself. But then the amorous moggy got a little too friendly. Had it been on the catnip or had Forrest been drugging his pussy and plying her with homegrown narcotics? Accordingly a Down-Down to the "Pussy-Plier".

 

There were no more awards to be allocated but there were two more beers/ciders to allocate. "Has anyone got any stories?" the cry went out. 

 

Strap-On asked who owned a blue Honda Jazz as they'd left the keys in the driver's side door. Arkangel sheepishly came forward and a note was called for, "Grand Theft Auto".

 

One Down-Down still to award and the Hare wanted to know who had kicked out the first check in the wrong direction? There was a lot of girlie giggling going on from the pair of Harriets that were sat on the bales. Swinger eventually out-giggled Well-Hopped so it was a note for "The Guy" on the hash nearest to Guido Fawkes' nacht.

 

The Down-Downs completed, Forrest issued instructions to Wood-Lend to commence the cornucopia of pyrotechnics. This consisted of a pretty good display of what I'm guessing was a single box package brought along by Able Semen. It went on for ages. There were a few rockets, but these were 2018 vintage so I'm not sure that they all went off. And that pretty much concluded the evening.

 

Many thanks to Forrest for his hospitality, the Roadkill Stew and the fantastic bonfire. At the end of the evening, the eagle eyed had spied that some of the bonfire was burning with a distinctly green glow. I think that there was some copper cable in there somewhere?

 

On-On to next week and Wet-Johnny's trail from the King William pub, Totnes....half way up Fore Street on the right hand side.

 

ON-ON

 

POST SCRIPT ACCOMMODATION PLEA: Returnee, The Last of the Homohecians, has an Australian friend who is returning to Australia via the UK after having spent time working abroad. She has two dogs and is looking for accommodation for circa 3 months by which time the Australian authorities should be in a position to let the dogs into the country. Additionally, has anyone got Homohecian's contact details as I forgot to ask him for them!

"THE AYES HAVE IT. THE EYES HAVE IT" by Man-Pig

Run #1888 Monday 1st November from the Devon Arms

 

HARES: Smellie's virgin lay assisted by Pollyfella and Coldtits

 

As incredulous as it sounds, this was Smellie's virgin lay!!! How on earth has she managed to get away with it for so long?

 

Nevertheless, the 10 year delay in laying a trail was more than compensated for in content. It included a great trail, a pub stop, a view point, a punch stop, a fancy dress competition, a rarely seen triple Down-Down for the Hare and, finally, a criminal investigation into who had had their hands all over Smellie's a**e during the course of the evening.

 

Congratulations to all who turned out in fancy dress...fantastic. The Park Inn contingent were clearly carrying on from Saturday night's Halloween Party in the pub and some of the outfits and make-up were simply brilliant. Well done.

 

Now, I have been told to keep the recount of the trail brief. In fact Coldtits has asked me to sum it up in Warmfront's own words, "Great trail. Well marked. I enjoyed it".....nuff said. However, for those that are maybe interested, this is where I think the trail took us. I offer the following:

 

Unsurprisingly, last year's Ladies' Grizzly Winner, Warmfront, led from start to finish. This despite having cycled over from Chudleigh for the occasion. The trail took us down Northumberland Place and to an early Long/Short split. The Longs continued across the Den and turned left on the Promenade.

We must have looked a bizarre sight to all non-hashers as we ran past them in our fancy dress. Warm front's waif like figure continued to move further out in front till we came to the next check at the end of the Promenade. An "On-On" guided us up and up and up East Cliff Walk and past a View Point that I am sure would have been spectacular by day!

 

Half way up East Cliff Walk, there was a second Long/Short split and I think this is where we may have parted company with the majority of the original Longs. The dedicated Longs continued up East Cliff walk and, by the time we reached tarmac, there was no more sign of the shadows of Warmfront's torch in front of me. But there were shadows behind me. This was Beefy catching me up. His biggest impediment though was his choice of headwear...a welding mask with skeletonised teeth painted on the front. This looked very impressive but it also meant that Beefy couldn't see a damn thing unless he was using a carbon-arc light as his means of illumination!

 

Somewhere behind Beefy was an injured Wet Johnny. No doubt Big End and Well-Hopped were also on the Longs (they Shirley were) so I'm guessing there were just the six of us on the long Longs.

Arrows took us right a few yards east along Dawlish Road before another arrow had us turn left and up Oak Hill Cross Road. This was another uphill climb onto Holcombe Down. It wasn't long before tarmac gave way to a farm track. I am sure that we've run down this in the past on a Poacher or Bluebird trail but I don't recall ever having run up it. The marks were good. In fact, suspiciously good, especially considering that it had been raining earlier in the day.

 

The reason for the "apparently fresh marks" was that the trail had originally been laid the previous day. So as to ensure that no-one would get lost, Polyfella had been out re-laying the Long from 5 to 8 pm. Fantastic dedication from the co-hare. Some of the marks turned out to be less than an hour old!

At almost the highest point on Holcombe down, we rejoined tarmac near Woodlands Farm. Our uphill travails were now rewarded with a two mile downhill, all tarmac descent back to the pub stop at the Kings Arms. The descent followed Woodway Road down to the A379/Dawlish Road where we caught up with the Shorts. By the time we reached the Kings Arms, the Longs had covered just over 4 miles.

There was still another Long/Short leg to do after the pub stop, rumoured to be about 3 miles but it would include the punch stop. However, a pint of Legend (they only had Jail and Doom Shirley) in the Kings Arms meant that I wimped out and took the Walker's route to the Devon Arms and the bit of a hoot that ensued therein.

 

Over to you Bluebird. Do not forget to mention the November challenge!

 

Thanks MP, I was hoping you had forgotten about that, but mention it I Shirley must. First I shall whet your appetites with Much Ado About Nothing:

 

The Bird lingered in that Twilight World betwixt life and death, loath to leave his beloved hashing haven.

 

Dishevelled was his plumage and grey his visage, was this the end of the Bird Shirley?

 

Please singalong with me - you know you want to - to the melancholy chords of Barbara Allen:

 

He turned his face unto the wall

And death was in him wellin'

"Goodbye, goodbye to my hashing friends all

Be good to Bluebird, please no weepin'."

 

Oh Yes, Dearly Beloved, the Bird originally had no intention of venturing out whilst he could not fly and he had already entered into sulk mode as his spiral into oblivion commenc-ed.

 

However, sanity was restored and salvation gained after a call from the Rottenfuhrer himself on Sunday. A lift in der Panzerkampfwagen vas too tempting to refusa und Der Blaue Vogel was back in the game.

 

A rummage through the refuse sacks provided the outfits for the Blues Brothers: Michael Myers and the werewolf gone wrong - both attired in the one-use disposable overalls - still in use after fifteen years.

Few can recall the infamous cabbage fight at the AGPU from the Keyberry yonks ago, believed to have been started by Blaster or was it Flip-Flop? An aggrieved Poacher shouting 'Oi, you haven't paid for them yet!'

 

But I digress again, you really shouldn't start me off - back to the Halloween Hash...

 

The Halloween roll:

GM Shitfaced, Piltdown, Georgie, Able, Triple Jump, Julie, Ali, Man-Pig, Bobby, BB, Beefy, Coldtits, Polyfella, SM Ellie, Screwed & Bella, Big End, Well Hopped, Forrest, Rambo, I-Poo'd, T Humper, Strap-On, Ann, Fallen Woman, 3Sum, Gaga4It, Warm Front, Wet Johnny, Manopause and BroadS giving a Dirty Gertie thirty Fancy dress hashers..

 

The de rigueur photo pose was eventually captured for posterity by a helpful pub goer, enabling Michael Myers to join the Halloweeners.

 

Various snippets were delivered to the Halloween huddle and duly were we dispatched for tricks or treats. The longs disappeared without the melancholy Bird who joined the shorts and walkers for a night tour of the sands.

 

Entertaining wild thoughts of flight, the feckless one attempted take-off speed along the promenade. Abject failure was the inevitable result and also ensured further demotion to the walkers' route much to the dismay of those in the immediate vicinity.

 

The climb out of town started the wailing. 'Where's the beer stop Bobby?' Able took the lead and led the Blues Brothers, Gaga4It and Ann onwards to their collective fate.

 

Rejoining the main road, the bizarre sight of the welding masked, butcher be-aproned Beefy hurtled past, closely pursued by a sinister black-robed figure clutching a Lee Marvin Paint Your Wagon topper.

Stumbling into the Kings Arms beer stop, a suspiciously large number of 'walkers' were already ensconced, giving rise to the awful thought that they had made their way directly to the haven withouta partaking of the actual trails. Oh cutta my lying tongue out, Shirley not..

 

The Lee Marvin hatted one had had enough and abandoned the long, admirably succumbing to the lure of the ale.

 

Also taking an early bath, Myers and Rambo headed for Finn McCools chippy to carb up and He who could get lost in a broom cupboard was shepherded back through a maze of alleys to the main event - the Devon Arms and Gun Dogs galore! Didulikethat? No, well...

 

The Chuckle Brothers were unleashed upon their captive audience as soon as the Star of the Show SM Ellie came through the door and I shall attempt to relate the hilarity that ensued. This will have to be from memory as time is pressing (I am currently painting my rusty fridge and the exercise is becoming tricky Oh Dearly rust priming, paint everywhere lovers everywhere)...

 

Straight man RA Forrest proved to be the perfect foil for outrageous double entendre comic Man-Pig.

I've seen a few Triple Downdowns in my time but never for a harriet and SM Ellie made hash history in not only being nominated but actually downing the three ales! Olé! olé! olé!

 

Coldtits was awarded a full supporting cast hare DD before a naming took place and words fail me, Oh Dearly Ribald and Rumbustious everywhere..

 

A telescope for bird-watching and fine (take your pick: Great, Blue, Coal, Long-tailed, Marsh, Penduline, Willow, Crested, Bearded) tits spotted were the gist of the delivery, but you had to have been there to appreciate the flow... sigh.

 

CHEERIO BEERIO was finally voted the hash handle to be given to Ali, she of the rosy cheeks and doll's make-up and those innocent wide eyes captivated as she swerved the beer as per her naming and downed a water with Forrest helpfully taking the beer instead.

 

The fancy dress prizes went to Strap-On (much needed wipes to remove the caked make-up), Fallen Woman for her witch costume and the star prize was for the professionally made-up T Humper (jointly with I-Poo'd I believe), both fine efforts - and everyone else who adagogo!

 

The title:  "THE AYES HAVE IT. THE EYES HAVE IT" a tribute to Gaga4It's novel necklace of eyeballs which lit up for even more allure.

 

Another personal favourite outfit was the ghoulish Grand Master's (two) masks and natty waistcoated get-up. I'm still in the dark as to the identity of a couple of hashers though I think they were Julie and Triple Jump.

 

Ahh, nearly forgot, after a Doom and three Gun Dogs (not driving Ha!) I was left vulnerable to accepting the November tache challenge with MP and Forrest... sigh So be it, game on but we've all agreed that Archangel will not be counted as it would be most unfair!

 

Phew! That's it and very well done SM Ellie and your assistants Coldtits and Polyfella for laying the trails and providing a great evening's entertainment for us.

 

ON ON to next week and Forrest's Firework frenzy from Tinkley in the Teign Valley - details to follow.

INFORMATION FOR MONDAY 1 NOVEMBER HASH

Coldtits advises: Circle is outside the On-Down, the Devon Arms. Hashers should bring money or plastic for beer stop. Prize will be awarded for best Halloween fancy dress. Some free on street parking is available in Somerset Place & there are nearby car parks in Quay Road Car Park (171 spaces), thought to be free after 6pm and in Brunswick Street Car Park (56 spaces) but check for charges. Devon Arms is not doing food in the evenings & adjacent Harbour Fish Bar is currently closed but nearby Ali’s Kebab Shop in Somerset Place does takeaway burgers and kebabs, which you can eat in Devon Arms, who have a rear beer garden. There are other pizza, fish n chip shops, etc., within a short distance.

THE REVENGE OF THE RABBIT WORRIER by Man-Pig

TVH3 Run No. 1887 25th October 2021

VENUE: Wick-Dipper and Mouldy Dick's Residence, Clennon Heights, Paignton

 

HARES: Wick-Dipper and Mouldy Dick

 

ROLL CALL: Mouldy Dick, Wick-Dipper, Francesca, Amy, Shit-Faced, Piltdown-Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Strap-On, Triple Jump, Anne, Twisted Tart, Man-Pig, Ali, Able Seamen, Beefy, Pisswell, Pollyfella, Coldtits, Rambo, Erection, Manopause, Mini-Penners (3), Wet-Johnny, The Artful Dogger, Big-End (sans Ned), Well-Hopped, Swinger.

 

APOLOGIES: Bluebird (injured) and apologies for omitting the following from last week's roll call - Bobbiball, Wet Fart, Artful Dogger and the moaning Piddler.

 

THE CIRCLE

The venue had been advertised as the Wick Dipper/Mouldy Dick residence. BYOB but sausage and chips would be provided by the hosts....yummy. Although the temperature had dropped a little, it was still warm for the time of year. So it was that 31 souls descended (or should that be ascended?) upon Wicky and Mouldy's abode. One thing is for sure, we were all going to finish this trail with an uphill slog. It was good to see Twisted Tart again; only the second time in 10 years! I was also intrigued to see her new toy - a Ford Mustang SUV. "Five litre V8?", I enquired? "No. All electric" - that's progress I guess.

 

The Circle announcements comprised Shitfaced advising us that next week was going to be a fancy dress Halloween Hash, "Come dressed up!". 3Sum then confirmed that there would be a Christmas raffle this year with tickets at £1 a strip. The raffle would take place at the Kings Arms, Kingsteignton - the date eludes me....again. Over to Mouldy. "There was a long, short and a walkers' trail. The long would be circa 6 miles.....". How we laughed? Mouldy laying a six miler? Not on your Nelly. However, we would all be laughing on the other side of our faces by the end of the trail. Mouldy continued, "Shorts, 4 miles". More merriment and incredulity. "Walkers to be determined. Follow Wick Dipper". "The marks maybe a long way from the checks" (he wasn't kidding!). "If you see flour - you're ON". We took this to mean one dot and you're ON.

 

THE RUN

The trail did not take us straight down Clennon Rise. Instead it was across onto Osney Crescent. The first check had everyone bamboozled but Well-Hopped opted to check out the Osney Avenue cul-de-sac. Success. At the end of the cul-de-sac, there is a footpath that took us to Fisher Street and the first Long-Short split. The Longs went up Fisher Street before a check had us going down Elmsleigh Road and across the railway line. 

 

We continued down Sands Road and then onto Queens Road. Another check and the mini-Penners got us on trail, across Queens Park and on to the Apollo Cinema. Another check and left for a simple loop around Paignton Green. Well, not that simple. 

 

Nearly 15 minutes were spent checking hither and thither before Wet-Johnny decided, "It must be down the coast towards Roundham Head". As we passed Paignton Pier, we picked up the trail again, heading due south along the seafront and through the arch into Paignton Harbour. Around the harbour, onto Roundham Road and then left onto Cliff Road before dropping down for our zig-zag around Roundham Gardens. From here it was pretty much a reverse run of Mouldy's trail from 2 years ago. All along the seafront, past Goodrington Sands and Water World and up to the viewpoint above Three Beaches. Here another check had us on a path turning inland and exiting onto Dartmouth Road opposite Grange Road.

Turning left off Grange Road, we followed the trail due west on an uphill footpath towards Clennon Hill. We were on trail....but which trail? The next thing we see is Erection, Manopause and Small Erection coming towards us. Were they still on the Short? A U-turn for the Longs and a descent to where the Longs and Shorts merged. The descent was a tad slippery as we gingerly headed towards the Clennon Lakes and crossed Clennon Valley Park and picked up the trail again at Brentwood Drive.

This is where we simultaneously lost the trail. We could only check left or right. Wet-Johnny and Big End went left. Man-Pig and Polyfella went right.....for ages. It was not until we reached the junction with Penwill Way did we find another mark....only 600 yards between dots here! Mouldy was not joking when he said, "You might need to go a long way before you find a mark!". Down to Dartmouth Road and, at last, the "On Home" sign.

 

This was way longer than any of us had expected. The stoic Mini-Penners had stayed with us and put in a good pace. A fantastic effort by our young hashers. But not quite as fantastical as the Artful Dogger's recount of the trail. He had turned up late and ended up doing the entire trail on his own. However, we're not quite sure which trail he was following. Sometimes it was the Long; sometimes the Short and sometimes no trail at all. The trail on his Strava looked like someone had deposited a plate of spaghetti all over his iPhone. He must have clocked up 11 or 12 miles even though his, obviously malfunctioning, techno-gizmo had only recorded a paltry 7 miles!

 

A very good run, made all the better by the long distance between the marks......which kept hashers guessing.

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

Back at the Wick-Dipper residence, Mouldy had erected a large tent in his back garden. This was the improvised On-Down, restaurant and pub for the evening. Although the run had been dry, the rain was just commencing as the last of the Longs were returning. Hence it was with some relief that we found ourselves under cover in a large, but nevertheless snug tent for the Down-Downs. 

 

As the rain started to increase in intensity. the floor of the tent began to get wet as hashers traipsed from car to tent, loo to tent, kitchen to tent, rabbit hutch to tent etc. I was, therefore, both delighted and surprised to observe Shitfaced dutifully mopping up the damp patches with an old rag. How thoughtful of him!

 

The first award was actually an award outstanding from a fortnight ago - the jester's hat. Beefy awarded it to Wet-Johnny for, as the Yank's say, "hitting on me". Apparently, Wet-Johnny had made the comment, "Hey. Looking good tonight Beefy!". Does your wife know about this Wet-Johnny?

 

Big-End had the horse's head hat to dish out. There was some story about an experienced hasher not being very good at checking. Despite covering 400 yards along the seafront at Paignton Green, this hasher had not found a mark and had turned back shouting "No marks". Had he persevered for another 5 yards he would have found five closely spaced dots. The error of his ways had been compounded by the fact that the Hare had told him where to go. Who on earth could be so stupid? Man-Pig did, indeed, look more and more sheepish as this sorry tale unfolded and was duly awarded a down-down for appalling checking.

 

It was Smellie's turn to name and shame as she had the third award of the night to allocate to some deserving soul. Well, I don't know how long Smellie had been back in the tent or how much she'd been drinking. The narrative regarding the award was all about erections. Big ones. Small ones. Canvas ones. She couldn't get enough of them! Ultimately it turned out to be a story about child exploitation. 

Seasoned Hasher, Erection (that's Big Erection) really couldn't be bothered doing the checks. However, just like Santa, he had a little helper - his son. Hence, on arriving at a check, Big Erection would send his son (Small Erection) checking for marks. A vote was taken on whether the down-down should go to the big or small erection with the Big Erection winning the vote......a vote for Ivor Biggun then.

 

Finally, Shitfaced had the Hashshit shirt to award. The soiled, damp rag that he held before the gaping crowd seemed peculiarly familiar. Why? It was the rag that he'd spent all evening wiping the tent floor with! What sin was so heinous that it deserved such an award? Once again the story reverted back a fortnight to the run from the Rugglestone. Apparently, one hasher had made a bit of a night of it. So much so that, when he got home, he only made it as far as the bathroom; never even seeing his bed till the following day. Which party animal could this be? None other than the Hare for that evening - Beefy. Well, Beefy wriggled and squirmed suggesting that the Hashshit shirt was big enough to fit over what he was already wearing. The crowd were having none of it. "Off. Off", they bayed. Reluctantly, Beefy donned the odorous, dank rag and sank his down-down.

 

There was one beer left but no awards. What to do? In time honoured tradition, Mouldy awarded himself the last down-down and made it disappear in pretty swift order.

 

Well done Wick-Dipper and Mouldy for your hospitality, the trail and the venue. It must have taken a fair old while to get that tent up. Let's hope that it dries up soon to allow you to take it down and pack it away dry.

 

Next week the venue is the Devon Arms, Teignmouth. It is a fancy dress Halloween run. Judging by the map gazing taking place in Mouldy's tent I'm guessing that our Hares will be Polyfella, Coldtits and Smellie. I am advised that the beer on tap is Gun Dog or Deckhand and that food can be got from the chippy and brought into the pub.

 

On-On to next week!

 

Post script: The Revenge of the Rabbit Worrier?

We had a bit of difficulty locating Wet-Johnny for the Down-Downs. He was the only one not in the tent. Apparently he was worrying the rabbits and, as his name suggests, getting wet. Read into that what you will?

Monday 25 October location map

 

THE GOOD SAMARITAN & THE GHOSTLY GHOUL OF KERSWELL DOWN

Run #1886 from the Park Inn, Kingskerswell

 

Date: Monday 18th October 2021

Hares: Man-Pig & Bluebird

Drinks hostess: 3Sum

 

Hashers: Man-Pig, Shitfaced, Wet-Johnny, Roxanne + mini-Penners x 4, Arkangel, Only Here for the Beer, Two Little Shits, Grinder, Deep Throat, Alexis, Tamsin? (the dark haired lady on the Long), Gaga-4-it, Slip-On-Me, Pisswell, Wet Fart, Smellie, Piltdown Man, Georgie-Porgy, Rob (Shitfaced's cousin), Strap-On, 3Sum, Martin, the gentleman that I was talking to in the circle that might even not have a hash name, Zoot, Hot Lips, Ali, iPoo'd, T-Humper (food orders), Big-End & Ned, Well-Hopped.

Apologies: Forrest Stump (who had pantomime rehearsals), Bluebird (who had home commitments to address after having spent the afternoon laying the trail), Beefy (fixing power steering failure), Man-Pig (oh, woe is me. Without the Bird's cinematic record I have Shirley missed the names of many in attendance. My humble apologies.)

 

THE CIRCLE

Shitfaced welcomed all to the Circle. There were no virgins to be christened but a couple of returnees. Shitfaced made a couple of announcements regarding forthcoming events. The votes had been counted and we were going to have a Christmas raffle. This would take place at the Kings Arms, Kingsteiegnton - I have forgotten the date. Additionally, there was going to be a Christmas Party this year. This will take place at Teignmouth Sailing Club on Friday 10th December. Tickets are £7.50 for members and £12 for non-members. Thank you 3Sum for organising that. Finally, food orders. Hands up. T-Humper counted the hands for sausage and chips and advised Park'n'Ride that scoff time would be circa 9 - 9.15 due to the drink stop at chez 3Sum's.

 

Over to the hares......or should that be hare? Man-Pig apologised for the absence of co-hare Bluebird - an issue had arisen at home but the Bird would Shirley make it to the pub for a post-run swifter. There was a Long, Short and Walkers' trail. There was also the opportunity to Short-Cut but both the Walkers' trail and the Short-Cut were only marked at the beginning of their respective trails. They were on straight tracks/roads from which you could/should not be able to deviate. The Walker's trail would join up with the Shorts and the Short-Cut was a downhill road back to the village.....simples! There was one Long-Short split. The Longs would be spending a lot more time off-road than the Shorts, even though the Long was probably only 0.7 mile further than the Short's.

 

Approximate distances were mumbled to a disapproving throng: Longs circa 5.5, Shorts, 4.8, Walkers (if you survived the split down a very steep slippery bank) 4.2, SCB's 3.7. 

 

As a bit of an experiment, Bluebird had marked some early parts of the trail in orangey-brown chalk. Unfortunately this had faded badly in some parts due to the afternoon's rain. Other than that the trail was laid in flour using a combination of arrows and dots. On-On.

 

THE TRAIL

Crikey! Wasn't it humid out there? I have never know an October in the UK to be so warm and clammy. It reminded me of my time working in the Gulf. Strap-On commented that it reminded him of early mornings in Houston, Texas. I would have thought that, being in the middle of the desert, Houston would be bone dry. Apparently it has a lot of lakes which were probably the source of the humidity. Fortunately the afternoon's rain had cleared but there was still a warm mist in the air. The mist partially obscured an almost full moon which peaked out periodically when the mist dispersed only to cloud over again a few minutes later. One thing was for sure, no-one was going to get cold despite it being mid October.

 

The good thing about living in a country with long hours of daylight in the summer and long hours of darkness in the winter is that the Hares can cheat. You see, a trail can be re-used four times and most hashers would remain unaware. Simply lay the trail clockwise and then anticlockwise. Repeat this for one run in the summer and one in the winter. It is amazing just how different the perspective is between clockwise and anti-clockwise trails. In the dark, one can only see as far as one's torch beam so you could be almost anywhere.

 

The trail took us over some well hashed ground that most of you will have covered at one time or another. Over Kerswell down and down the long farm track to North Whilborough, then road to South Whilborough. Carry on past Colliers Barton towards Edginswell. Under Hamlin Way and double back on the new footpath that takes you over the railway line near the Texaco filling station. A right turn behind the Hare and Hounds and up Southey Lane to our drinks stop.

 

The Longs parted company with the Shorts just before exiting the woods on Kerswell Down. They dropped down to the Bickleigh Mill and then looped round and up Windmill Lane. Turning right at the windmill and passing Styles Garden Centre before dropping down an ancient track to rejoin the Shorts at Colliers Barton.

 

The Drink Stop comprised mulled cider and garlic bread. It was a well earned respite from the incredibly sticky and sweaty weather. 3Sum's garden looked lovely with illuminated fence panels, nice non-slip composite decking and a very efficient brazier which allowed weary hashers to de-robe and let their bodies breathe without getting cold. All very convivial.

 

The last part of the trail was all road but not without its adventures. Arriving at the Lord Nelson Smellie and I observed four police cars, an ambulance and a fire engine both above and below Kerswell Arch. Both the main road and the road outside the Nellie had been closed. What on earth was going on? I knew that Network Rail suspend rail services when there has been a bridge strike so we assumed that there had been some sort of vehicular accident. We made our way back to the Park Inn totally oblivious to the actual events unfolding before our eyes on Kerswell Arch.

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

Some of the recipients of last week's awards were absent. Nevertheless, there were enough to go round.

Arkangel was the first to name and shame. Smellie had had an electrical malfunction early on. A distinct lack of illumination from her headtorch saw poor Smellie attempting to struggle along the unstable footpaths of Kerswell Down aided only by the light from her iPhone. Hence an award to the "illuminati".

 

Piswell had already left the pub to help Beefy with his power steering. At least that's the story that she was telling everyone. Nevertheless, she had left the horse-head hat with Shitfaced to award on her behalf. It appears that being a sexagenarian can become very tiring. Especially when you are driving. So, what better than strapping a settee onto the back of your car so that you can have a comfy rest whenever you so desire....even if it is a wet settee. For some reason Only Here for the Beer has spent that past week driving around Kingskerswell with a settee on his trailer. I do not know if he is delivering or collecting. Nevertheless a down-down to Only Here for the Beer for taking relaxation to extremes.

 

In the absence of a physical award, Slip-On-Me had received a virtual award the previous week. Slip-On's award went, again, to Only here for the Beer. This time it was taking short cutting to extremes. Apparently OHFTB exited the back door of the pub and simply re-entered via the front door. Trail completed! That's what I call shot-cutting. OHFTB nominated Park'n'Ride to take his down-down on his behalf. I have never seen a pub landlord drink so slowly.....no rush now Andy.

 

There was one drink left but no more awards. Hence we thought about a naming for Ali. You may recall that Ali does not like beer; she will be sick if she drinks it. Hence the naming was postponed. Nevertheless, it was observed that Ali had always attended the hash wearing black tracksuit bottoms. However, now that we've had the first wet day in four weeks, Ali had decided to wear shorts! Why? Due to her beer allergy Ali nominated Hot Lips to have the final drink on her behalf. this was swiftly dispatched to a chorus of, "Here's to Miss Lovely Legs....." etc etc.

 

That pretty much rounded up the evening.

 

THE TITLE

Why on earth have the Words being donned with the title of "The Good Samaritan and the Ghostly Ghoul of Kerswell Down" I hear you ask? The Good Samaritan refers to the incident at Kerswell Arch. Apparently someone was threatening to throw themselves off Kerswell Arch and onto the busy A380. This occurred at about the same time as the Walkers were returning from the drink stop. I have little information on this incident but I understand that the Walkers were instrumental in preventing this loss of life before the emergency services arrived. Well done. It reminds me of the title of Kate Adey's book, The Kindness of Strangers, such an evocative title.

 

And, the Ghostly Ghoul of Kerswell Down? Bluebird is an extremely seasoned hasher. He very kindly offered to help me lay the trail. With metronomic precision he arrived at the Park Inn bang on the two o'clock appointed time. At the Long/Short split we parted company. I laid the Long whilst Bluebird laid the Short with the assistance of a map that I'd printed off for him. This time Bluebird had remembered to bring his glasses in order to enable him to actually see the map. What could possibly go wrong?

Picture this if you will?. Man holds bag of flour. The bag is made of paper. It starts raining. Man walks around in the rain for an hour. Bag gets wet. Paper bag begins to disintegrate. No problem. I will patch it up with Man-Pig's map. It rains some more. Pop. Bag eventually gives up the ghost covering Bluebird from the chest down. He still has half the Shorts trail to lay but no flour. So, what does he do? He scoops up the damp floor and puts it in his pockets to lay the rest of the trail! Really? I ask you?

 

It gets even better. Bluebird loses his way so he refers to what is left of the rather soggy flour-covered map but he can't read it because it's covered in flour. Oh, I'll just put my glasses on. Now his glasses are also covered in flour. Wet flour at that which is turning into a gloopy paste that will stick to anything it touches!

 

The next time I see Bluebird is at the point where the Longs rejoin the Shorts. Forty minutes earlier, I had left Bluebird wearing blue jeans and a dark blue jacket and a light blue baseball cap. What appeared in front of me now was more reminiscent of a very cheaply made B-grade horror movie from the fifties. He was covered in flour from head to foot. Even the baseball cap was white with flour. The Bird's futile attempts to brush off the flour with wet hands had just made matters ten times worse. "It's a disaster Man-Pig" as he recounted his sorry explanation of what stood before me.

 

Having completed laying the trail we retired to the pub for a well-earned half. You could tell where Bluebird had been. A combination of flour on the floor and on the bar. Everything he touched was covered in gloop. It was only when the Bird had to put his glasses on to see what beers were on tap, that I saw that his glasses were covered in sticky flour too. You'd have to have good eyes to see through them! Finally, when he came to pay by credit card even his wallet was covered in flour. Only the Bird is capable of creating a major catastrophe with nothing more than flour and water.

 

On-On to next week at chez Mouldy Dick's, Clennon Heights, Paignton.