The Eggstravaganza

AS RARE AS HEN'S TEETH OD & AN EGGSACTING TRAIL

Run #1791 Monday 22nd April from Newtons Free House, Newton Abbot. Hares Wigwam & Bobby Kirk

The Promised Land of a virgin OD and partial virgin trail plus a gold plated goody bag of trail treats on Easter Monday brought the curious and committed out in some numbers, Oh Dearly Dubious..

Thirty six made it to the circle CP above the pub: Broken Man & Fallen Woman, Winfield, Twin Buffers, Piltdown & Georgie P, Teapot, SatNav, Threesum, Rambo & Doris, U Bend, Piddler, BroadS, SM Ellie, Beefy, Polyfella, Wigwam & Bobby Kirk, 69, Shitfaced, Just Cummin' and virgin Jazzmn, Flasher & Will, Able, Slip on Me, Fishbait & Finlay, Manpig, Forrest & Sarah, Hotlips & Zoot, Aber. Joe and BB.

Conspicuous by their absence were the Penners and the Polish - we missed you - well I did anyway, Oh Dearly Departed.

A mega ambitious effort saw the fruition of Wigwam's (and forcibly enlisted Bobby Kirk) trail with many attractions including that rare as hen's teeth hash presentation - a spanking new OD pub: Newtons Free House - formely the Heavitree Arms - tucked away in a not so sleepy cul-de-sac below the main Ashburton highway.

After Piltdown's guess how hot it was question - won by Beefy, Wigwam launched into a lengthy and technical explanation of the intracacies of the trail while the hash listened, mostly blank-faced and glassy-eyed. Never mind, it was RocknRolla time and the shorts were safely shepherded down the lane with the hares for protection, whilst the lean, ravening longs were released from the traps onto the main Ashburton Road, Whistling Dixie...

For the record (and in case of legal objections later) the video revealed the longs as: Flasher & Will, BroadS, Beefy, Aber. Joe, Polyfella, U Bend (good lad, welcome back to the longs) and Piddler (taking a gamble that he could survive without the ski poles) Forrest, Manpig and a souped up Bird. Eleven warriors true and, as always, in search of everlasting glory or at least a mention in dispatches..

The glory part had to be put on hold, however, as scouts searched in vain for the trail at the first check which was the de rigueur 'Give the shorts a fair shout' loop. Several minutes later, and about to run up the white flag already Eddy, U Bend and Piddler (I knew the boys would come good) spotted the arrow pointing to the suburbs above the highway.

Legging it back towards the greenery, Broken Man was on station to direct the snorting longs up to the Easter egg expanse. Thereupon, gentle grazing creatures were espied at various unlikely positions in the undergrowth searching for what ultimately would prove to be highly elusive polystyrene eggs.

There were those that coveted the Easter treats and there were those that Shirley did not, Oh Dearly Eggsasperated* and a vociferous FRB passes on his apologies to the shorts who were clogging up the paths so carefree. I am fairly sure that he didn't mean the nasty 'I hate all shorts - and that includes you Grand Master!' the kind rejoinder being 'Thank you.'

The heat of battle can induce a red mist before some jaundiced eyes....sigh

Just beyond the gaily searching shorts, the next carnival attraction was to be found bench sited Yea, oh verily yea: The Cadbury's cream egg brownie stop with Broadlands Ice Tea - Oh merriment unbounded.. 'We'll catch you later - much later....' drifted the faint cry on the wind from the fleeing FRBs..

A tantalizing and teasing loop of the field below the munchers saw The Great Escape of the longs who elatedly surged on to the inevitable destination..

A bootiful climb was enjoyed (BroadS muttering that he was operating at 164 bpm) up through the lush Allium ursinum before we ducked under the wire to access the large meadow north of Bradley woods. A herd of frisky heifers appeared and wary indeed we had to be of the galloping girls. Fishbait and young Finlay joined our trailblazing team for a while before we plunged into Bradley woods proper and could stretch our legs at last.

Doing sterling scouting service were Flasher and Will and their shouts at each of the checks were never far away. It wasn't advisable to stop and take photos (Beefy) at the river crossing as ground was hard to make up now the longs were really

1, 2, 3, 4, let's hear it now:

Big wheel, keep on turning

Proud Mary, keep on burning

Rolling, rolling, rolling on a river...**

It's a different world out there on the long and the shorts and walkers would Shirley Shudder if they could observe the battle joined each and every week with no quarter asked or given.

Flasher's strava evaluation summed it up succinctly: '50% making our own tracks, crossing barbed wire fences, crawling through bushes and a bonus river crossing' HA! Will: 'A bit of nasty off-road.'

There was a hasher who did manage to cover himself in glory out there - young Polyfella, sporting yet another Honiton Hippo tee shirt, finally outstayed many of the FRBs and joined the by now jogging super scouts as they neared the OH marker.

A downhill dash ensued back to the CP with about fifty odd minutes and fourish miles recorded. A beaming Slip on Me was most enthusiastic about the trail and all the longs readily agreed! A triumph indeedy by the Master Hare Wiggers!

Most of the shorts and walkers were already inside the pub and being looked after by Jim (great name that) the barman. No, there was no ale*** on tap but the bottled Black Sheep was just the ticket at £3.70 plus money in the pot for sarnies and chips. No complaints.

Teapot was seen searching for RA Manpig who was MIA along with Forrest & Muttley. Finally, they turned up to relate the usual forlorn tale of woe but safe and gathered in we all were for the DDs upcoming.

The good news was that there were a few lucky finders of the poly eggs - the not so good news was that Wiggy had left the actual choc eggs at home and would bring them next week - never mind, Oh Dearly Eggscluded. ****

The usual waiting period of about six hash appearances before a naming was waived in young Finlay's case. The little lad had only hashed once before tonight but Fishbait explained that Finlay was too excited to wait so Small Fry it was - Beefy saving the day and averting a snide 'Master Bates' suggestion from the motley crowd.

For the second successive week, no less than two namings and Flasher's fellow orienteer and TBGS pupil, Will, was relieved to get away with Runner Bean. Best of luck with the exams lads and see you back soon.

THE DOWNDOWNS

As our 1800th Trail draws closer, Run No.1791 was from a new venue Newtons Free House Newton Abbot with Hare Wigwam, who laid a great cunning trail, with hidden Easter Eggs, around and through Bradley Woods.

Offenders on this night were ;-

BLUEBIRD who was spotted Short Cutting or not checking?

PILTDOWN MAN who appeared to be more on a local history trail.

SHITFACED who said he would catch up the FRB's later !!!

FINLAY son of FISH BAIT was named SMALL FRY! and...

6ft + WILL (taller than SMALL FRY even kneeing down!) was duly named RUNNER BEAN !

Really enjoyed the evening Wiggy and Bobs - cheers for your fine efforts.

* It had to be done.

** I may finally be descending into delirium, Oh Dearly Deranged.

*** They tried it for a few months but the local 'clientele' just didn't want to know.

**** I've already told you - it had to be done.

ON ON to next week's BIG BIRTHDAY HASH from the Cridford Inn at Trusham TQ13 0NR. 80th Birthday Broken Man (Fallen Woman & Forrest)

A SEVEN MILE GIGGLE, TWO NAMINGS & A WRONGED HIPPO

Run #1790 Monday 15th April at Ipplepen Football Club with Hare Wet Johnny & Co.

Being semi coherent and barely alive after the Ipplepen footie club hash, Oh Dearly Partied out, I shall attempt to make sense of the evening's antics and manifold they were Winfield.

WJ, furiously gesticulating, redirected my recalcitrant chariot nearing the clubhouse and the early crawl became rush hour as the faithful arrived in force for that fairly unusual occurrence - a non pub On Down.

'Let's Be Careful Out There'* should be our hashing catch phrase as many a disaster is Shirley awaiting the unwary and idiotic (of which TVH has in spades) so Beefy and I decided to err on the side of caution - it being a WJ/Manopause hard man hash - and added head torches to the survival kit.

Sunday's Honiton Hippo heroes BroadS and SM Ellie were game for another giggle and would provide yet another not so classic Whatamistakatomaka moment from He who Shirley should not be named - sigh...

Bobby Woll was attired in his Heroes of Telemark get up (uncannily the same blue waterproof top, ski pole and hat) and could have passed for old Kirky** - at a distance of five miles.

I made the roll call a mighty respectable thirty eight: Teapot, Piltdown & Georgie, 69 (Verdana Blue, yeh baby), Archangel (on time), SM Ellie, BroadS, Beefy, Manopause, WJ, Erection, orienteers Ben, Hugo & Will arriving by bike, Shitfaced*** rather soberly [sic] attired for the walkers' trail, 3sum, SatNav, Wigwam, nattily bandana clad & Bobby, Hotlips & Zoot, Doris & Rambo, U Bend, Only Here, T Humper, Just Cummin', I-Poo'd, Slobbadog, Manpig, Raf, Anita, Abcess, Gosia, returnees Twinkletoes and Screwed, Poacher and BB.

The hares declared three trails: A long of six miles plus which elicited a cry of 'Is that all you've got?' a short of about two and a half miles and a walkers' route of indeterminate length. A SS and three L/S splits completed the spiel and the shorts and walkers were directed out the main entrance leaving the longs to prescribe a mandatory 'silly sod' loop of the playing field to give the rabble and serial drinkers a head start at least Larry.

The longs found the pack had progressed all of a hundred metres, perhaps being reluctant to stray too far from the bar Bobby in uncharted Indian country.

Another log jam at the second check saw the FRBs weaving through the shorts and anxious not to lose touch at this early stage. It was hard a starboard at the A381 and down past the garage Dainton bound - though turning into a farm and stables hardly helped at one arrow - the old eyesight isn't as good as it used to be Beefy...

The pecking order was now established and Ben, Will and a resurgent Hugo (following the previous week's slump) surged to the front pursued by Beefy, pit stopping (Cider) Poacher, BroadS, the Bird and a slug it out Manpig who was intent on doing some damage to the old boys... longs sweeper Manopause lurked close behind to ensure all went smoothly.

Twenty minutes into the trail trial by heart attack attempting to keep up with the action and only forty five minutes of fun left, blessed relief was given as a series of checks (good boy WJ) slowed the rapido tuxedos up just a tad.

The last long languid loop loomed large immediately after the WJ SS (WJ was dispensing a fine array of sweeties to tempt: Berties, choc peanuts, jelly babies etc).

With the light now fading fast, the Wellington Inn was passed and the shorts were encountered once again descending past the church with 3Sum and SatNav spotted working well. The usual suspect malingerers were given a tongue lashing as we steeled ourselves for the final frontier test.

Eventually, a cluster of lights could be discerned far ahead on the left giving rise to a faint hope that the haven of the footie club was at hand - especially as the heroic hour had now been attained. BroadS had a brief bad feeling that it was someone's conservatory (!) but then the OH appeared. In steady drizzle and 6.87 miles in the bag, we were back and by golly, Geronimo, the longs had Shirley earned their beer tonight.

A little later and Manopause enquired if anyone had seen SM Ellie who was MIA. Misguided and misinformed indeed was the Bat Hat presenter but since when has the truth got in the way of a DD Oh Dearly Wronged Hippos everywhere...

Inside the clubhouse, volunteer hosts Clive and big Dave were serving from the cold cabinet all manner of bottled favourites - Doom Bar, Hobgoblin and London Pride - and all at a wallet friendly £2.50 agogo and the Ipplepenners were scurrying around preparing the sarnies. Comfy cubbyholes were crammed and the usual TVH bubbling atmosphere built up in advance of the live entertainment - and that there Shirley was this evening Oh Dearly to be named and wrongly shamed...

DDs RAd by Manpig:

For the hares WJ & Erection - Manopause abstaining.

T Humper (Ceremonial Bat Hat) to Slobbadog after she had been missing for many weeks.

BB (Vampire bat Hat) to SM Ellie for not doing the long - but she did!

Manpig (Hashit shirt) to Ben which prompted a naming of Flasher - Ben: 'Bike light in rucksack flashed throughout the whole run but no-one told me. Hence the name, Flasher.'

Another naming for big Raf was given by our Polish correspondent Wigwam who decided on Pan Fart (loose Polish translation of Mister Good Luck!).

Final award was a big 400 Run badge to our Grand Master Piltdown who, shades of Teapot and Twin Buffers, refused to be hurried in the beer sampling stakes.

The Penners excelled with a hugely enjoyable and testing trail - some parts I'd never seen before and also what proved to be a great OD. A lot of hard work was much appreciated by us all. Thanks WJ, Manopause and Erection.

* Only the old stagers will recall the line from the 80s NBC show Hill Street Blues - Google it non goggleboxers.

** Kirk Douglas you fools

*** Reportedly banned from attending Tues/Wed SS (rum) at Paraprick's drum and intent on keeping a low profile.

ON ON to next week and Newtons Free House, Newton Abbot TQ12-1TP. (Wigwam)

TRULY 'A NIGHT TO REMEMBER' (2019) AND ALL IN ALL - A RUM DO

Run #1789 from The Park Inn Kingskerswell with Hare Paraprick

Not for nothing are Teign Valley known as 'the Party Hash' Oh Dearly Riproarious* and The Park Inn aka Hashing HQ provided ample proof for the saying last night.

So come on now, let's get a singin' straight away:

It was a night oh oh what a night

It was it really was such a night...

A rousing forty six made the circle:

Fallen Woman, Teapot, Winfield, Piltdown & Georgie, SM Ellie, BroadS, Beefy, Manopause, WJ, Erection, orienteers Ben, Hugo & Will, Forrest and Cridford Inn's Sarah, Shitfaced, 3sum, SatNav, Wigwam & Bobby, Coldtits, Hotlips & Zoot, Doris & Rambo, Paraprick, U Bend, Piddler, Going Down, Pisswell, Only Here, T Humper, Cums Too Late, I-Poo'd, Manpig, Fukarwi, Able, Aberystwyth Joe, Raf, Anita, Abcess, Gosia, Slip on Me, BB and a late arriving Dobby. Archangel missed the run but was in position A at the bar later.

It was to be a Game of Three Halves (four if you count the hard core party which rocked 'n rolled past midnight) and par for the course was Paraprick arriving pre circle mounted atop his street legal 1000cc quad cruiser - complete with trailer cage for the dogs.

Fallen Woman was in party mood straight from the get go, cheering every statement with enthusiasm and SatNav's posh grand 'pand'** kept the jocular circle amused.

The hare declared three L/S splits and, of course, the linchpin of the enterprise - a party stop chez Para - yes, it was going to be a Night to Remember...

Old cloth ears had failed to hear Paraprick mention that the trail was similar to his last soirée and lost vital ground in the early stages. The orienteers were away and gone and the solid [sic] pairing of WJ and Manopause caught a flyer and it Shirley was going to be a difficult run Raf...

Para was seen a few times on the quaddie with Cums2late riding pillion but though nominated, she just missed out on a DD.

The climb from Kerswell up to Coffinswell sorted the longs out big time and it was difficult to see who was where Winfield. Moto motoing downhill on the tarmac, WJ, Manopause and Aber. Joe (the lad can go a bit) were finally closed down and Manopause remarked how nice it was to see old BB and they had waited specially for him to catch up! That'll be the day Doris.

On a long straight climb, the FRBs could be seen, strung out up ahead: Beefy, Ben, Will, Hugo (back from injury and having a nightmare), MANPIG AND FUKARWI! What? I knew I wasn't going that well but how on earth had they managed to get that far in front?! It got worse, as on a scenic bridlepath descent, Wigwam was spotted up ahead, duking it out with Aber. Joe! What on earth was going on?

It seemed that it was all uphill to Para's gaff and it was a relief to finally turn into the drive with a good 5k covered. Manpig & Fukarwi came clean to reveal that they had taken a short split en routey and Wigwam also put up his hands though in truth he looked well able to contest the long course.

Oh what a table of tempting delights and hash bevvies was laid out for the happy hash house harriers and many a short were already ensconced and availing themselves of the hospitality. However, not wanting to risk a chill, I saluted and bailed after asking Para the way home. 'Turn right out of the drive, then immediately left and downhill past the lake and you're home.' came the reply BUT both Beefy and I were unaware that this was the final SHORT split - ahhhhh so.... sorry Beefy.

The saga of Shitfaced revealed that rum was on offer and it was an offer that could not be refused... the story fast became legend that would fade but slowly into hash myth:

The night they drove old Shitfaced down, and the hash horn was blowing

The night they drove old Shitfaced down, and the hashers were singin' they went

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la...

A mile and leisurely eight minutes later, the haven of HHQ was reached (good trail as shorts and longs were always quite close together)  and strangely, first to the bar were Beefy and the Bird..

Hunters Gold and Legend were gushing amber and clear from the taps (with Gun Dog in reserve), the footie was background colour and the atmosphere was buzzin' - yes, Oh Dearly Delighted, we were in hashing heaven.

The massed ranks of the hallelujah hash were at fever pitch as Teapot called order and Manpig - he of the pepper 'n salt fuzz - took up station and the order of the evening set by SM Ellie was three contenders for DD glory, Winfield taking the honours. Forrest was mercilessly harried by Archangel ('Is Manpig your b**ch, Forrest?') as he transferred the Hashit shirt back once more to Manpig, apparently the rightful owner of the award. Confusion (a TVH trademark) followed WJ's delivery of the Ceremonial Bat Hat to T Humper, though the words 'for being a lady' were vaguely discerned in the delivery. Celebrations aplenty were the order of the evening as Beefy got his 100 Badge and rounded off the awards quite nicely, thank you very much. Ah, nearly forgot, Bobby had three renditions of his Bobbiball song to accentuate the jollities.

Shitfaced finally made a belated entrance and it was evident that the rum ration had been slightly surpassed Shirley..

Some said Shitfaced was paralytic, I say he was supremely relaxed, smiling benignly at all with that trademark shitfaced look he has made his own. And, let us not forget Oh Dearly Inebriated - it is what we are about as HHH Teetolallers we Shirley are not. If it were 'A Night to Remember', then Captain Shitfaced was last seen on the bridge saluting as he went down in an alcoholic haze. All in all, a pretty rum do it was***...

Party animals 3Sum & T Humper presided in the after hours 'entertainment' and I won't divulge what it means to be T Humpered...

Well, in conclusion, I have to repeat my former observation, Paraprick - it truly was a Night to Remember. All the ingredients of a major hash success were there to be enjoyed. Thank you indeed for your efforts we chorus.

THE DDs

Run 1789 from The Park Inn Kingskerswell where on a great evening trail with Hare Paraprick who had provided a Drinks and nibbles Stop, which was voted "best in history" by many...before eventually!! returning for the DD Awards, which were presented to the following offenders:-

WINFIELD who was spotted draining every last drop from the Rum bottle..Hic!

T.HUMPER for being just A LADY! ?

MANPIG who confessed to laying FORREST'S "Trail of the Year" !

BEEFY who has at last reached his 100 fast Runs badge!

* riproarious (1821) was changed to riproaring in 1834

** 'Don't forget to give me a 'pand' if you're not members.'

*** It had to be done.

ON ON to next week and the Ipplepen Football Club TQ12 5TT with Wet Johnny.

A DE RIGUEUR EPIC OVER MOOR AND TOR, A LADIES' BATTALION & 'DON'T BITE, BEEFY!'

Run #1788  Mon 1st April Circle Lower Car Park Haytor Rocks: OD. Carpenters Arms Ilsington with Hare Poacher

The ever enduring TV hash soap opera resumed from the Haytor lower CP with perennial hare Poacher. For the FRBs and hardy longs it meant a good stretch out across moor and tor with the occasional gorse and bog thrown in for good measure. For the shorts and walkers perhaps a little trepidation - knowing the hare's liking for a de rigueur epic..

Cometh the circle 'neath the imposing Haytor and in spring's welcome light for the first time this year, assembled some three dozen hashers:

Broken Man & Fallen Woman, Teapot, Winfield, Piltdown & Georgie, SM Ellie, BroadS, Beefy, 69, Manopause, WJ, Erection, orienteers Ben & Will, Forrest and Cridford Inn's Sarah, Archangel, Shitfaced, 3sum, SatNav, Wigwam & Bobby, Coldtits, Hotlips & Zoot, Doris & Rambo, Twin Buffers, Polyfella, Able Semen, Ding Dong & dawgs, long absent Gobbler, Paraprick, U Bend (no Piddler?) and BB.

69 relayed the good news that Poacher had set off at 6:30pm to complete (or start?) the trail, leaving Cider behind. With no hare present, 69 gave out the trail info as two short trails and two long splits.

A nasty start to the test - uphill over uneven ground - had hashers struggling to get into a rhythm (thank gawd, thought it was just me).

Round the semi-scenic Haytor quarry and man made lake - complete with abandoned and rusted out machinery - we ventured, probing for the main direction of the trail.

A clever piece of trail laying saw the longs intermingle with the shorts for a while. Gaily and daintily stepping out was Fallen Woman with Winfield alongside and there was young U Bend,  hiding on the short - oh Shirley not!  A hasher like him, many times mentioned in deeds of derring-do... how had it come to this? Father Time is unrelenting Oh Dearly Susceptible.

Oh let me fall on the trail and be carried in glory back to the bar rather than submit to nature's unforgiving will..  No? Well please...

Out along the ancient tramway and towards Smallacombe Rocks did we trek and Ipplepeners WJ and Manopause were on a roll and uncannily kept choosing right at many a check.

Warming to the theme, habitual cries of encouragement and derision were heaped upon the long suffering longs [sic], prompting the usual counter retorts from Beefy. The quote of the evening came from Manopause who knew the ways of the warrior well Winfield: 'Don't bite, Beefy!'

The pivotal plot of the trail was unfolded and into the treacherous gorse reinforced bog we blundered. Poacher was out to make (April) fools of us all.

Slowed to a virtual crawl, the longs concertinaed and we Shirley were mobhanded to deal with almost any eventuality, Oh Dearly Aghast. Super scouts Ben and Will spearheaded the main body of Wet Johnny, Manopause, Beefy, BroadS, old hand Polyfella and BB plus a ladies' battalion of Ding Dong, SM Ellie and the very experienced local, Gobbler.

The marks became scarce and mightily elusive forcing the longs to backtrack and search for clues in the murderous morass. The diligence paid off but only up to a point as ultimately the mire consumed the plucky pack and many an eye was averted when the Bluebird began to wail.. 'My EPICS, my EPICS - ruined I say!'

A way out was spotted away in the distance beyond the killing ground - Holwell Tor and the quarry slip. Clearing the bog, a lone maniac shrieked dementedly: 'A check, a check, we're out!'

Some forty minutes into the run and just as some shorts were reportedly already back changing, another problem arose. The trail had gone cold yet again and the light was fast ebbing. Ding Dong disappeared from sight into the valley to the east and Ben and Will were also covering a lot of extra ground searching.  Beefy suddenly spotted that the Ipplepenners were missing - and they hadn't even said goodbye!

Atop Holwell and a check was found - just as a cry from the gloom revealed Poacher, resplendent in shorts and tee shirt and no head torch - hallelujah baby! We're saved!

At last we could resume at pace and with Poacher leading the way, we sped back to Haytor through an unnamed quarry gorge and finished with a downhill dash back to the car park. Olé!

Although we were out for up to an hour and a quarter, only about four miles was covered though Ben and Will boosted their mileage by running up from the pub and down again after their run.

TVH pretty much had the Carpenters to themselves and snug and comfy it was in this historical OD.  Dartmoor Legend and Hanlons Yellow Hammer were on tap as well as Scrumpy - to Poacher's delight and apparently the food was given the thumbs up.

Shitfaced - complete with Ceremonial Bat Hat - RAd the proceedings to add yet another string to his bow:

DOWNDOWNS

The first complete daylight run for SOME of us! even though Hare Poacher decided to make most of it a live trail!
Offenders Awards were presented by SHITFACED to....
S.M.ELLIE for getting lost on another Long trail.
WET JOHNNY for missing his special DD last week.
FORREST STUMP now still displaying the swing label on his latest Grizzly t.shirt
POACHER for his live trail that had us heading around in all directions!
Well done Poacher and thanks to the Carpenters for the excellent food!

Ben's strava notes on the run summed it up pretty well:  'Hashing through a gorse filled bog is never a good idea. Lost the trail far too many times. Fun.'  I'll second that. Thanks Poach for a great trail and a really good TV hash atmosphere in the Carpenters afterwards.

ON ON to next week and it's back to The Park Inn, Kingskerswell TQ12 5BQ. (Paraprick)