A DEATH TRAP & A GATE TOO FAR

by the Blues Brothers

 

Run #1938 Monday 10th October 

 

from the Crown & Sceptre at St Marychurch 

 

with the Blues Brothers.

 

The notorious Blues Brothers were back and those that made the circle knew that a Boys Own Paper style adventure Shirley was on the cards.

 

It was a return to the Crown & Sceptre - as requested by the Grand Master - and fortunate indeed we were that it was still there. No Dave Wheeler to give us a super hash-friendly welcome as a new brewery had taken over and installed its own management. The plethora of memorabilia sadly had been stripped away. 

 

But never mind, we were back and, without further ado, let's get on with it.

 

Just in, Man-Pig's roll call:

Who wuz there: Bluebird, Bobbiball, Forrest-Stump, Perry, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Wet Johnny, Manopause, Erection, Fukarwe, Soapy, Ablesemen, Slip-on-Me, Beefy, Pisswell, Teapot , Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Piddler, Swinger, visitors from PAD Hash (Portsmouth & District): Turn-Up Tony & harriet (Mrs Turn-Up Tony?)

 

A beautifully sunny day welcomed the hares as they set off around 2:30 for the lay.

While I waited for Bobby to lay a short section, I met a lady dog walker with an interesting hash story. 

 

She had, in years gone by, hashed out in Kuwait and ladies were not allowed to wear shorts and advised to go accompanied at all times on the run. She and her companion, brave as can be, were wearing shorts (in sultry heat) and somehow went astray from the trail. They suddenly found themselves in a fish market and were chased by irate stallholders and shoppers! Fortunately, they were more fleet of foot than the angry mob and got away to tell the tale.

 

By Watcombe beach car park, we paused awhile to gather breath. Bobby gave the marching orders, and I proceeded to Brunel woods and the Brunel's Dance totem, the designated RG and sweetie stop.

 

That was the last we saw of each other as Bobby laid a lonely furrow through King George while I limped back along the Teignmouth road.

 

The trail was not yet complete as there was the first long split to lay. This would prove to be quite a task but being spent, it would have to be a last minute addition.

 

The light was fading as I set out at about 6:20 to complete the loop. The hash had negotiated this split a few years back (with the aid of ropes as it was muddy) but there was a snag tonight. The existing animal track up from Petitor beach was now heavily overgrown and, only twenty yards up, the brambles and vegetation were neck high.

 

Time was now critical, so there was no Plan B. I was forced to smash a way through, tacking sideways to gain passage. Where high brambles barred the way, I threw myself backwards to flatten them, wildly splashing flour as I careered. The established track was reached and then it was a stiff climb to the cliff path and back from whence I had come. 

 

The question in my mind was whether to keep the split or yield to sanity. Cometh the circle and Crazy Horse would not yield, so why should the demented Bird?

 

The circle in the tiny back car park was dark indeed and without Man-Pig's assistance (now arrived, see above), I will not attempt to name the two dozen or so souls that assembled.

However, a hasher from Southampton, down on holiday, had somehow found us - welcome Turn-up Tony, for turning up and adding to the evening's entertainment.

 

Bobby wanted me to leg it to the SS with the sweeties, but that was not possible as I had to be on station for the highly dubious first long split. Bob played the white man and, at the off, would set off up the road - just over a mile to hold a welcome in the woods.

 

Much was said before the hares were summoned, but being hard of hearing, it all blessedly passed me by.

 

A warning was given concerning the suitability, and indeed, the viability of the first long split. Knowing what the hare was capable of, most wisely heeded the warning.

 

While Bobby kept the circle entertained, I slipped away to get in position for a fly-by at the first roundabout.

 

Lying up with the pack approaching the first long/short split, I made a careful note of those venturing forth for adventure. All passed muster. 

 

There was hard man Beefy; rugged Wet Johnny; fearless but highly capable Man-Pig and, accompanying them two harriets - Pisswell and Swinger. All were together and the terrain was such that they would be forced to stay together for the test.

 

After watching them drift downhill into the gloom, I got in position at the summit of the climb to await the Famous Five who had taken up the challenge.

 

Several minutes elapsed with no sign. A faint cry was heard far below and then silence. I cautiously descended to get a better sight of any head torches. A hundred yards down I made myself comfortable and waited. Suddenly, to my great relief, head torches illuminated the lower reaches of the climb. 

 

Wet Johnny was to the fore but as he shouted the on-on, he crashed down the slope into the thick stuff. Cries of woe were heard but Wet Johnny rose, rubber ball style and continued.

'Tack across, follow the light!' came the encouragement from above and one by one, the pioneers and real hashers, came onto the animal track and the sharp ascent.

 

That was my lot, I was exhausted. Returning to the pub, Piltown, Georgie and Chocca accompanied me and my thoughts were for brave Bobby, who must have been as tired as me.

Over to Bobby now for how it went belly up when we went our separate ways on the lay.

 

A GATE TOO FAR by Bobby Woll

 

All was going well on the lay until the hares decided to split up and meet at a gate on the main road which led into the fields back to St Marychurch. Unfortunately, Bluebird didn't realize it was just 10 yards further along from where he thought it was and so decided to change the route unbeknown to Bobbiball. 

 

So the hares failed the two most important rules, to one, do a recce, two, keep together, and, on reflection,, don't hare with a gammy leg.

 

Thus, what we ended up with was hashers all over the place. One went down to the shops and back; some to the first long and back; some doing Bluebirds trail; and some doing Bobby's trail!

 

Finally, well done to the walkers who manfully and, womanfully, got to the sweetie stop only to find most had already been there!

 

Thank you, Bobby, I was hoping to keep quiet about that, but there we go.

 

At the bar, snippets were heard. Turn-up Tony had seen Piddler flip over but Piddler stated that Tony also had come a cropper. Big End, Well Hopped and Ned - avoiding the death-trap, had made rapid progress around the two other long splits and had probably got to the SS before anyone else. 

 

The long was only four and a bit miles, but I had factored in the degree of difficulty of the first long, so most made it back by 9 pm.

 

DOWNDOWNS

Fukarwi was awarded the Baby Bat hat by Well Hopped for a former hash misdemeanour.

 

Turn-up Tony had a DD and the honour of the Horse Head hat (jamais vu since the Awards Night at the Wild Goose) for his tumble.

 

Bobby retained the Hashit shirt as Pork Torpedo would not sanction the other hare having it.

 

Soapy had the Viking Horned hat for taking the Bird brain seriously and then proceeded to annoint the Horse with beer.

 

POSTSCRIPT

The trail lay was by far the best part of the day. Difficult to decide which of us was the most tired at the end. Bobby, sufferering from many injuries or the Bird, having been sidelined with a non-covid virus for ten days which left me very weak. We had that young man, Man-Pig on emergency standby, but pride carried us through.

 

Well done, Bobby and also my thanks to Beefy, Wet Johnny, MP, Pisswell and Swinger for their bravery - and not a single reproach or complaint.

 

POST POSTSCRIPT

I know I can be a little loud, Oh Dearly Sometimes Offended, but do bear in mind that my circumstances prevent me from going out most days and when I do manage an excursion, I try and make the most of it. 

 

ON ON to next week and the Teignmouth Rugby Club with Pollyfella.

TVH3 The Words for 3rd October 2022

Slade Cross, Lustleigh

 

Run No. 1937

 

HARES: Pisswell & Forrest-Stump

 

Who wuz there: Pisswell, Forrest-Stump, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Hotlips, Zoot, Arkangel, Wet Johnny, Manopause, Soapy, Palmolive, Ernie, Coldtits, Beefy, Tamsin, Teapot , Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Roger the Dodger & son, Bobbiball

 

The Circle

Slade Cross is certainly a virgin starting point for Teign Valley Hash. This presented some interesting parking solutions around the junction. This included Man-Pig parking on a small mountain and thus denying Bobbiball the opportunity to alight the vehicle.

 

Forrest's knowledge of the highway code was found wanting as he directed several hashers to park in a bus stop. Teapot, meanwhile, had arrived early and was intent on testing the integrity of the local farmer's burglar alarm system. Yes, Teapot. It works! Grovelling apologies to the farmer.

 

The Circle commenced with the usual announcements. In the absence of a lift from Georgy Porgy/Piltdown Man, Smellie contacted Shitfaced by means of wireless communications courtesy of Enrico Marconi. We need a Hare for 24th October......volunteers, please.

 

Shitfaced then added that only eight slots are available between now and the end of the year. Step up and claim your slot to lay a trail. Man-Pig requested a scribe and Pisswell kindly offered.

Finally, Soapy reminded everyone of Rambo's memorial service/ life celebration on Sunday. If anyone would like to join a throng of hashers for a curry afterwards, in Newton Abbot, please see Soapy in The Dolphin after the run.

 

The Trail by Pisswell

Please sing along to Teddy bears picnic tune! It changes as guided, probably better guided than the hash!

 

If you go down to Shaptor woods you're sure of a big surprise

If you go down to park at Slade cross you’ll see all the other guys

Though Beefy ran, most hashers there was

Invited there for certain because

Today's the day Teign Valley runs over Forest!

( if you go down to the woods today tune again)

 

He volunteered to co hare and park. A Parking attendant he’d be!

Responsibility went to his head and he took no notice of me!

He gave himself the disabled spot

Drove Manpig out of the parking lot

And up the bank so Bobby ball can’t get out now!

( picnic time for teddy bears tune)

 

Circle time for both co-hares

They didn’t tell us much

So It's a guessing game today

marks might catch you unawares

They’ll be on both sides and

checks are in a random way!

Teapot had had a nose about

Shitfaced is back with gout

And Smellie needs some hares

There are no rules in hashing

So let’s just follow the trail, and

don’t “do” in the woods like the bears!

( if you go down to the woods today tune again)

 

If you’re a long in the woods today, you'd better start up Slade hill

If you’re a walker or a short,

on to the old hospital

You reach Hawkmoor and try out some checks

You find a split and the longs go left

The top of the hill, they find the first of the “ha has”!

( picnic time for teddy bears tune)

 

Descending back down to the path

They join the shorts and walkers

Up until they split again

Both got to do a super hill

How lucky is Well Hopped?

the brambles not,

the only things to kill!

Longs do another wild goose chase

They have another case of “ ha ha” to turn back

At the stile,

they meet again

To enter the Woodland trust

For their journey up to Shap tor.

( if you go down to the woods today tune again)

 

If you follow the marks, you’ll find a post.

lost a Teapot along the way

Round the fallen tree

Up hill it will be

Find the place to be for the day

For the sweetie stop was up at Shap tor

With a string of lights

To make it look more

Of a lovely sight to welcome all our hashers.

( picnic time for teddy bears tune)

 

Decision time for hashers now

Either left for the long, commitment to 5 plus miles today

Walkers there’ll be 2 to home

Whilst shorts turn left, at the old signpost, to Pixie Copse.

What I failed to say to some, was that the third “ha ha”means to return same way

So Rodger the dodger and Well hopped’s brother were lost out in the woods

They were tired and alone and afraid!

( if you go down to the woods today tune again)

 

Meanwhile chief hare was sat on a log

Encouraging light to work

When it came on, I was startled to see, a hornet circling me!

It wouldn’t shake off, tried all the tips

Until it stung the top of my lip

I ran for home, bollocks to rest

Will they make it?

( if you go down to the woods today tune again)

 

They found the longs and followed them wrong

The cottages they did see

I was told me off for placing a cross

For Tamsin beneath a tree

To Shaptor farm and Furzeleigh cross

But now like the two they also were lost

They were guided home by Well Hopped on phone

 

Piss ‘N Forrest!

 

The Trail by Man-Pig

The trail took us up Slade Lane towards the reservoirs. After a couple of hundred yards, the Walkers and the Shorts peeled off right and along a public footpath. The Walkers would be on an in/out trail to the sweetie stop - around two miles. The Longs continued on; up and up and up Slade Hill before being directed right, along a footpath and into Shaptor Down.

 

The Longs comprised Beefy, Big End, Man-Pig, Tamsin and Ernie. What goes up must come down and it wasn't long before we were on a steep wide path, past Gladstone Rock, to rejoin the Shorts and the Walkers. Then a 200 yard uphill slog only to be confronted with the first of the evening's three Ha-Ha's.

Back on the Shorts' trail again and another Long/Short split only to arrive at another Ha-Ha. Return downhill to the last Long/Short split. This took us up an overgrown and very steep but, thankfully, short climb.

 

At the top of this climb, we encountered Forrest and Perry who directed us left and to the illumined sweetie stop at Shaptor Rock. We knew that we were on the right trail because all of the Walkers and the Shorts were now on the reverse trail back towards Slade Cross.

 

This proved somewhat confusing for poor old Ned. He had made the outward trail with his mistress but now wanted to continue on the rest of the trail with his master. In true hash hound fashion, he elected to stay with his mistress. That would be much shorter.

 

Shaptor Rock was both pretty and pretty impressive. It was rather like Santa's grotto with rope lights directing us towards the sweeties. 

 

Re-energised with wine gums (non-alcoholic) we embarked on the final Long/Short split. We were pretty high up, around 240m, as we exited Shaptor Down and headed along the public footpath towards Shaptor Farm.

 

Through the farm we proceeded and continued down the public footpath past Higher Bowden before passing through woodland and exiting into an open pasture. Here we alarmed two ponies and also ran out of marks. We spread out looking for the elusive white dots. Small mushrooms caught the torchlight and, for a fleeting moment, confirmed that we were on trail.

 

Eventually Big End found a stile and an exit onto a small lane. An arrow had us running downhill, due south, and past Lower Bowden to Furzeleigh Cross. Just before the crossroads, a check had us turning due west and along two parallel footpaths - one official and, one not. The unofficial footpath looked like an old Devon bank with a thoroughfare running between the two manmade banks. 

 

A long zig-zag through the woodland of Stonelands, Shaptor Wood and Northcombe Cross eventually saw us rejoin the return trail at the point at which we'd last seen Forrest and Perry.

 

At last an OH sign. Beefy and Big End blazed the reverse trail....or not as it turned out. We found ourselves on a broad , steep downhill track; easily wide enough for a tractor. We had not been down here before so we assumed that it must be part of the Shorts' trail. It was not. By the time we'd reached the back of Hawkmoor Cottage, Beefy realised that something was wrong. It was back up to the last check - at the top of a very long hill. A mile detour. Oh well.

 

On the return, we caught up with Roger the Dodger and son. They had been off trail for quite a while. They had come across a Ha-Ha and didn't know what it meant, so they simply walked through it and spent the majority of the evening off trail. I still don't know if they ever found the sweetie stop.

 

Back at the last check, it was left where we should have gone right and we were back on a part of the trail we recognised. Soon we were back at Slade Cross - amazingly without any broken ankles. Some of the timber duckboards on the Longs were in pretty gash order with broken slats.

 

Back at the cars, no Bobbiball. We guessed, correctly, that he was already in the pub. The Longs agreed that it had been a lovely run; a trail that would be well worth repeating in the summer. 

 

Thank you Hares. An excellent job.

 

The Down-Downs

Awards were thin on the ground. So were the number of Hashers who had made it to the pub. Teapot, Ernie and Shitfaced had already gone home.

 

However, Ernie had passed on the Bat Hat to Man-Pig to award. Forrest had the Hashshit shirt and he was the first to name and shame. It could have been any number of hashers for reasons as broad as FRB'ing and parking misdemeanours. The actual recipient was Bobbiball for his inability to access or alight from a series of four wheel drives during the course of the evening. For such endeavouring mountaineering, there was a note for Chris Bonnington.

 

The only other award available was the Bat Hat. Not being the original recipient of the award from the previous week, Man-Pig hadn't been clocking misdemeanourNeverthelessles, a step-by-step account of the hash had been recorded by Roger the Dodger on his mobile phone. "We're just coming up to a blade of grass now. No. it's a fern....." fascinating stuff. Accordingly, a very brief down-down song for yakking on his phone on trail: "Yaketty-Yak. Don't talk back. Drink it down, down, down......"

 

Next week

Bobbiball and Bluebird are next week's hares. Bobbiball had a senior moment and advised that we would all be at the Dolphin again next week.....bless. With a little encouragement, he eventually recanted and advised that the trail would be from the Crown & Sceptre in St Marychurch. There is a tapas menu and you do not need to order in advance.

 

On-On to next week!

MAP AND MENU FOR MONDAY OCT 3

 

BILLY TWO HATS & A SCB MEETS A JCB

TVH3 The Words for 26th September 2022

 

Court Farm, Abbotskerswell

 

Run No. 1936 Strap-On & Ernie's virgin lay

 

HARES: Strap-On & Ernie

 

Who wuz there: Strap-On, Ernie, Shitfaced, iPoo'd, Bluebird, Man-Pig, Arkangel, Forrest-Stump, Wet Johnny, Manopause, Andy from the Park Inn (still to be named - not to be confused with Park 'n' Ride), Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Slip-on-Me, Coldtits, Ablesemen, Beefy, Pisswell, Tamsin, Teapot, Wetfart, Roger the Dodger & friend, Zen Emptiness, Mateus Rose, Rise 'n' Shine and two virgins brought along by Andy from the Park Inn (sorry, forgot your names) and Strap-Dancer (pub only).

 

The Circle

The circle commenced with Smellie confirming that Pisswell had volunteered to lay the trail for 3rd October. It would be in Bovey Tracey somewhere. The On-Down had yet to be confirmed. The next date for which a hare was required was late October and then no further requirements till late November.

 

Before handing over to the Hares Man-Pig pleaded for a volunteer to do the Words - no takers but Bluebird allegedly put his hand up whilst standing behind me. Well volunteered!

Then it was over to our Hares. Well, it has to be said, for a virgin lay our two hares looked very relaxed. Strap-On had a pint in his hand....I doubt it was his first and he had decided that a seat at the bar was to be his next move. 

 

Ernie asked hashers to guess the number of checks and advised of a Long/Short contraflow system. Longs would be just over 7 miles....gasps all around. There would, additionally, be Shorts' and Walkers' trails.

 

The Trail (Longs) by Man-Pig

The trail took us out of the beer garden to the path that leads to the church. Here we turned immediately right and down onto Slade Lane near the post office.

 

At the junction with Wilton Way, we came to the first check which was also the only Long/Short split. The Longs headed up Wilton Way towards Court Farm before turning left down a ginnel and looping around and back onto Wilton Way.

 

Opposite the entrance to Court farm, the trail took us up a steep footpath towards the old RNIB college at Court Grange. Instead of bearing left and along the public footpath that traverses two fields, we continued along the entrance drive to Court Grange, eventually exiting back onto the top of Slade Lane. An obvious place for a check but there was none. Left along Slade Lane towards the Totnes Road - but only for a short while. Again an obvious place for a check but nothing. 

 

The Pig sensed that the trail may go left and down a track that leads past the caravan park at the back of Ruby Farm as Beefy checked ahead towards the Totnes Road.

'On-On!' called the Pig. It wasn't long before we hit the contra-flow system with the Shorts coming one way and the Longs the other.

 

The track ends at its junction with Whiddon Road. The Shorts' trail had also been marked with an arrow at this junction. The conclusion had to be that the check only applied to the Longs. A spot of checking out towards the Totnes Road revealed a cross. Back to the check to kick it out.

 

Running against the tide of oncoming Shorts, we arrived at a second check at Whiddon Cross. Beefy was not far behind. The Pig checked uphill along the road that forms the southern boundary to Dainton Golf course. Beefy, meanwhile, checked downhill towards Maddacombe Cross. The Pig found the third mark and returned to kick out the check. This was the last time that I'd see Beefy for the next two-and-a-half miles.

 

Up near Causeway Cross, the junction invited another check. Again, there was none. An arrow had us heading southeast in the general direction of Hunters Brewery. But it wasn't long before the dots ran out. Backtrack. Sure enough, a dot was spotted at the footpath that takes us across two fields and into Dainton. A few encouraging shouts of "On-On" but no response. Where was Beefy?

 

At Dainton - no check. I had a hunch that the trail would be left and towards the dead end that leads up to Milton Mator Common.

 

It wasn't long before an arrow was spotted on the right-hand side of the road. Where the road ends, a track-cum-footpath starts. At the first junction along the footpath, a check. Both paths lead to the Common. There is nowhere else to go. A check uphill ended with a cross. Back to the check. Kick it out and onto another check after only 100 yards. This time the trail did lead right, uphill through the woods and exiting onto the common. Brambles were thick and the path almost indiscernible. 

 

Up to this point, the marks had been excellent but none to be seen on the common. There is only one exit off the common and that is onto the footpath that runs along the top edge of Stoneycombe Quarry. Marks! We were back on trail.

 

After another 100 yards, a check. It proved to be straight on. 200 yards further along yet another check. Again straight on.....errr, well no....three dots and a cross! Back to the check and check out the stepped path that leads down to the back of Bickleigh Mill Inn. Yes indeed....three dots.

Back up to the viewi

ng point that overlooks the quarry and kick out the check.....again. A loud call of "On-On" was rewarded with a similar response. Quite close too. But I did not recognise the voice. It was female but not Pisswell.

 

I continued the descent down to Brook Cottage and kept calling "On-On". Again the same female response. By the time I reached the road at Brook Cottage, I decided to stop and find out the identity of my pursuer. It was Tamsin. She announced that Beefy and Pisswell were not far behind and that we were the only ones on the Long.

 

It was only a few seconds later that Pisswell and Beefy appeared. An arrow had us running past Stoneycombe Quarry to a check at Maddacombe Cross. It was then uphill to Greatoak Cross. The headlights of an approaching car reflected off something shiny on the side of the road. On close inspection, this turned out to be a flat-screen TV placed nicely at the edge of the road. it looked undamaged. Bizarre.

 

At the top of the hill, we arrived at Great Oak Cross where another arrow took us left towards Gullands Cross. At the first road junction, another arrow guided us into a field and along the footpath that eventually drops into Abbotskerswell behind the, currently closed, Butcher's Arms.

 

The OH sign had us returning to the pub along Wilton Way. A lot of road but a good old workout for the Longs. Good running by Tamsin and a great first effort by our virgin hares. Well done.

 

The Trail (Shorts) by BB

It started badly and then got worse. A woeful evening of bad decisions, bad luck and misadventure was in the offing. 

 

Are you sitting nice and comfy? Well, I shall elaborate, Oh Dearly Beloved and long suffering.

The omens were not good as the rat run over Milber was apparently closed to traffic although some were trying their luck - in the fond hope that workmen had gone home and passage might be attainable.

 

Not wishing to risk it and go as a biscuit, the frustrated Bird took the scenic route to Newton Abbot, eventually emerging by Sainsbury's by the Penn Inn. Whatever happened to the direct route?

 

Plumage slightly ruffled, the Bird made the circle at 7:20 but just in time. Immediately, Forrest enquired if I had a spare headlight as he had forgotten his. The fickle finger of fate faltered and then took straight aim at the hapless Bird.

 

It so happened that I did have a spare and I returned to mine chariot to fetch it. On returning, the circle call to arms bugle call was sounded. The hares delivered the spiel but alarm-ed was I to hear that the long was a murderous seven miles - Shirley A Bridge Too Far (1977) for the fragile carrier pigeon.

 

Just as the pack was released, I remembered that I hadn't locked the Chariot and back I fluttered to remedy the oversight. Then I thought up a cunning plan, so cunning that you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel.

 

Driving in, I had seen a L/S split on the corner and, being renowned as a SCB (short cutting Bird if you please) I legged it to the dot by the shutter-board ginnel and headed out for glory and perhaps a head start on the FRB's! As Rise 'n' Shine would comment later: 'Being clever and Bluebird clearly do not go together...'

 

A sequestered housing estate unfolded and gleefully did the Bird prance. Atop a short rise and the dots veered right and down the hill - back to the entrance to the Court Farm Inn!

Whatamistakatomaka!!

 

The air was befowled [sic you fools) and turned blue [on a roll sic] by the irate Bird and his demeanour was not improved as the hares emerged from the bar to comment: 'Hurry up BB, you won't catch them like that!' Oh the pain, the pain, the almost unbearable pain.

 

The Bird was far from finished and brought A Cunning Plan Mk 2 into play. Leg it up the alley behind the church and head 'em off at the pass - there were marks up by the main road after all.

Slightly disconcertingly, an OH mark appeared but then an S - HA! Back in the game but how far behind, that was the question.

 

A beautifully pristine check appeared by the Abbotskerswell village sign. Either I was somewhat perplexingly in front, or those sloppy shorts hadn't kicked it out - hmmmm. Choosing correctly, the trail was resumed, all on terra tarmac, which was a relief.

 

Now we come to the almost unbelievable part of the sad saga. You all recall the hairpin turn right at the bottom of a descent? Well, there was a gate immediately on the left and you could see Newton Abbot far below. As I passed, I saw several head torches in the distance. Gotcha!

About a hundred yards later, I made out a JCB with flashing light and several workers with head torches on! Relating the incident to Man-Pig and the hares, it hardly seemed plausible but, take a look at this link:

 

https://streetguide.co.uk/roadworks/TQ121EH

 

You will see that there were roadworks taking place that evening this side of Decoy Lake. A case of the SCB encountering a JCB - No? Well..

 

On I coursed, lonely as a cloud until, oh, oh, the OH - at 1.6 miles!

 

Back the Bird spurred like a madman, shouting a curse to the sky, with the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!

 

Two head lights coming towards me, oh the shame, the shame. With head bowed, I shuffled past, muttering: 'Oh dear, oh dear.' I think it must have been Wet Johnny and Manopause who were the 'legal' frontrunners on the short.

 

The massed ranks of the Hallelujah chorus emerged from the gloom. Arkangel, Forrest & Muttley, SMellie, Zen (also torchless but relying on the throng), Rise 'n' Shine and Mateus Rose.

 

Back once more unto the breach, dear hashers.

 

Fifty seven minutes later and 4.4 miles on the clock, the Bird sang in BERKeley Square -no? Well please yourselves then.

 

An unprecedented 10 Pillock Points awarded.

 

Returning home, I decided to punch through over Milber and ignore the road closed signs. Shirley I could get through! Through one, two and three signs and confidence was high. And then, just below Plant World - the barrier of Ultimate Doom.

Just beyond it was a pair of headlights facing me. He flashed and I flashed back. What a pair of Wallies. Five point turn and back down to the Centrax turn-off and the Netherton lane back home.

 

What a Night it was, it Shirley was, Such a Night. Sigh...

 

The Down-Downs

First up was SMellie with Bluebell's Tina Turner wig! Absolutely outrageous! Loudly was she heckled from the cheap seats but SMellie was in (a) tent on awarding anyway. The follicly challenged were taunted - as had I by SMellie at the bar - but a virgin was selected and the similarity to Worzel Gummidge - with wig donned - was uncanny. 'Hold it in your hand' was savagely spewed out by Man-Pig and the raucous Bird.

 

Billy Two Hats (1974) aka Beefy with the Hashit Shirt and the Baby Bat hat was next on parade. The Baby Bat hat went to Ernie the co-hare with the DD song a quick burst of: 'Ernie, and he drove the fastest milk cart in the west...'

 

The Hashit Shirt returned to the Teign Valley with Forrest - he of the missing torch. A note for the (un)enlightened one. I have no further comment..

 

A final half for the other co-hare and a virgin lay at that. Well done Strap-On!

 

Next week

Somewhere in Bovey Tracey with hare Pisswell. See the TVH3 Facebook page (and web page) for updates.

 

Now it's goodbye from me and goodbye from Man-Pig.

 

On-On to next week!

TVH3 The Words for 19th September 2022

The Rugglestone, Widecombe-in-the-Moor

Run No. 1935 Beefy's birthday hash

 

HARE: Beefy

 

Who wuz there: Beefy, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Slip-on-Me, Coldtits, Pisswell, Fukarwe, Poacher, Will (virgin) & Duncan (virgin).

 

The Circle

It was a unique day. The pageantry, discipline, and choreography of Her Majesty's funeral were always going to make this evening's run a difficult one to call regarding how many would turn up. As it was, thirteen long distance hashers (including two virgins) arrived at the Rugglestone in good time for Beefy's birthday hash.

 

There was a little pre-circle discussion as to whether the down-downs would be appropriate on such an auspicious day. Beefy had already organised the DD's with the pub so it was agreed that the down downs would go ahead.

 

As had been agreed the previous week, the Circle commenced with a minute's silence for Her Majesty. At the end of the silence, Smellie politely reminded us that a Hare was required for 3rd October.

 

We welcomed two virgins into the Circle, Will & Duncan. No one present had taken ownership of them - so who had made them come?......someone called Holly apparently, who wasn't present! A down-down for Well Hopped next week methinks.

 

Shitfaced duly anointed them with flour and then it was over to the Hare.

 

Beefy had been out on his bike and advised that there was a Walkers' (an out and back to the cider stop - around two miles); a Shorts' of about three miles and a Longs' of about five miles.

Both the Longs' and the Shorts' would be crossing a bit of open moor but shouldn't get lost as the dots were close at this point.....and so they proved to be.

 

The Trail

A check at the entrance to the car park had Man-Pig running to the right and uphill; Poacher taking the level option to the left and the rest of the pack waiting patiently in the car park for whomsoever shouted "On-On" first. It was Man-Pig. 

 

Back in the car park, there was some debate as to whether Poacher should be called back. "No. Leave him be" suggested the Hare - an instant recipe for a down-down.

 

The trail took us up through the tiny hamlet of Venton and to a check at Chittleford. The Pig had a burning desire to run towards Pudsam Down whilst Fukarewe correctly checked towards Lower Dunstone.

 

At Lower Dunstone (very old and picturesque), an arrow had us all heading for Beefy's at Higher Dunstone. The Walkers got an early cider and flapjack whilst the Longs and the Shorts headed southwest. 

 

An obvious check at the footpath that leads to Cockingford did not have us going to Cockingford. We continued on road until we came to the Long/Short split that took the Shorts right and up onto the moor - still on road at this time.

 

The Longs' continued on road past Windwhistle (a single farm hamlet) and through Bittleford where checks at two footpaths proved fruitless. 

 

Still on road, we headed towards a check at Lizwell. This took us right and into Jordan. I didn't realise that this was where we came across the beautiful Mill House on Pisswell's trail from about five or six weeks ago. Everything looks so different in the dark!

 

Again we passed another check at a stile onto a footpath. We didn't have to check far. The cross was on the other side of the stile! 

 

A check in Jordan had the Pig checking uphill, eventually finding a third dot. Back to the check to kick it out by which time Poacher and Pisswell had caught up.

 

"Have you seen Fukarwe?"

"No. He wasn't too far behind me."

 

We concluded that he must have opted for the Short.

 

As the road levelled off near Drywall, we reached a crossroads and the inevitable check. The Pig went straight on towards Dockwell. Poacher went left and Pisswell went right. 

 

It wasn't long before Poacher and the Pig were chasing Pisswell downhill and then uphill. After maybe half a mile, an arrow directed us left, off-road and onto the moor where we rejoined the Shorts' trail. This skirted the dry stone wall in a north-easterly direction before falling away down a broad track into Higher Dunstone and the cider and flapjack stop.

 

Poacher led the charge downhill but momentum got the better of him and he missed the detour to the birthday drinks stop. Pisswell tried calling after him but to no avail. We felt a tad guilty that he'd missed the drinks stop so we decanted a glass into an old cider bottle and wrapped a slice of flapjack in foil. This we gave to him in the pub. He deserved it. He had just warranted himself a Down-Down.

 

The Down-Downs

The Rugglestone is under new ownership. Shitfaced advised that the new owners don't really like singing in the pub. It was a mild evening, so we were happy to decamp into the beer garden for the Down-Downs.

 

The first order of service was, again, to the Queen for 70 years of unstinting loyal service. We then raised our glasses to toast the King, "God save the King". We also thanked the pub for the beer - but as the landlord and landlady were inside I doubt they heard us.

 

Given the occasion of Her Majesty's funeral, it had been suggested that some may wish to wear something appropriate for the evening. 

 

Georgy Porgy and Piltdown wore crowns; Coldtits a tiara and Pisswell ran the entire trail with a union flag draped around her shoulders. The best the Pig could do was to dig out an old British Lions shirt.

 

Virgins Will and Duncan said that they had enjoyed the run and would be back. We look forward to seeing them again.

 

Strangely, and despite low numbers, awards were in abundance for a change. 

 

Poacher was the first to offload his baby bat hat award. He complained about an absence of marks. I guess, in a way, he was right. He had spent the first five minutes of the run off trail and running back into Widecombe. Everyone else found plenty of marks.....they had all gone the other way out of the car park. Nevertheless, the baby bat hat went to Beefy to a rendition of "Hold it in your hand Mrs. Murphy".

 

Next up was Coldtits. She still had lost property in the form of a Tina Turner/Rod Stewart wig. But to whom to award it? 

 

Candidates included Piltdown man and Shitfaced - both for being follicly challenged. Piltdown was too tall, so it went to Shitfaced who wasn't drinking. It then ended up with Smellie because she wasn't follicly challenged.

 

More lost property improvising as an award - this time it was Archangel's Grizzly sweatshirt from three weeks ago. Pisswell awarded this to Poacher for missing the drinks' stop.

 

One last half pint of ale to award. Man-Pig had the Hashshit shirt from the previous week. There was only one candidate; the Hare for his birthday hash - all the right notes - not necessarily in the right order.

 

Despite the low turnout, a good run and a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Perhaps the correct way to round off what will be one of the most eventual days of our lives.

 

RIP your Majesty. You've deserved it!

 

Next week

Court Farm Inn, Abbotskerswell with Hares Ernie and Strap-On.

 

On-On to next week, Man-Pig.