MONDAY 24TH JANUARY MAP

 

PILTDOWN MAN'S BIRTHDAY & STATE PENSION HASH

by Man-Pig

 

Run #1899 10th January 2022 from the Devon Arms Hotel, Teignmouth

 

HARES: Piltdown-Man & Smellie

 

Who wuz there: Piltdown-Man, Smellie, Shitfaced, Georgy-Porgy, Gaga-4-it, Fast Auntie Brenda, Strap-On, Well Hopped, Coldtits, Rambo, Wetfart, Beefy, Pisswell, Man-Pig, Arkangel (late SCB), Piddler, Only Here for the Beer, Forrest Stump, Bluebird, Fukarewe (pub only).

 

Who wasn't: late message from Cheerio Beerio who had intended to attend and bring the Hashshit shirt but caught in traffic in Exeter.

 

THE CIRCLE

Shitfaced welcomed everyone into the Circle. The only announcement was that annual subs are now payable at £25pa which ".....lasts a whole year from January to January!" Shitfaced confirmed that the pub didn't do food but takeaways would be allowed. The Hare's description was brief. "Longs just over 5. Shorts about 3 and a Walkers' "....no distance stated. Additionally, no co-hare. It transpired that the trail had been laid the previous day. However, overnight, all the marks had been eaten. Hence, Smellie was on a last minute dash to reinstate some of the marks.

 

THE TRAIL

Almost from the start there was a feeling of deja vu. The trail was following a very similar route to Smellie's virgin lay on the Halloween fancy dress hash. The trail took us down Northumberland Place, a sharp right and onto backbeach before crossing the Den and turning left onto the Promenade.

At this stage, as amazing as it sounds, Piddler was the front runner. Beefy had checked the wrong way and Man-Pig and the Bird had ended up on the wrong (seaward) side of the road. Inevitably, it wasn't long before Beefy caught us up and the usual suspect FRB's began to pull away from the pack.

 

All along the promenade and up past the yacht club to start our ascent. For the second time in just over two months, the marks took us up and up and up East Cliff Walk. A short way up, a peculiar set of marks; one arrow pointing up the hill, the other down the hill. We assumed that this must be the return leg for the Shorts.

 

The Longs continued up East Cliff walk; a little further up than we'd gone on 2 November. Then an arrow took us left and along a narrow footpath that I've never been on before. Unsurprisingly, this took us out onto the Dawlish Road. Another arrow directed us across the road and then left towards two shadowy figures....hashers? Not just hashers....Hares. Piltdown directed us up Oak Hill Cross Road advising, "Turn sharp left after three quarters of a mile".

 

Definitely deja vu. This was another uphill climb onto Holcombe Down. It wasn't long before tarmac gave way to a farm track. Additionally, it became clear as to the reason for Piltdown's imparted wisdom.....NO MARKS! Not a single one. They must have all been eaten. We ran past a stile at Lower Holicombe Farm with a home-made "Private Land. No access" sign next to it. I am sure that we've run over these stiles and across two fields in the past. 

 

Bluebird reckons that if the stiles are still in place then it should still be a public right of way.....maybe? Answers on a postcard please. Beefy was well out of sight....and so was Bluebird. Yet again our Birdbrained septuagenarian had opted for road shoes which was not the wisest of choices on the slippery climb up to the top of Holcombe Down.

 

At the top of the track there was a check. I decided to wait for the Bird and hid behind an ex-MOD lorry. Just as Bluebird drew level with the back of the lorry I jumped out to give him a scare.....how childish? (Not needed at my time of life! BB)

 

At almost the highest point on Holcombe down, we rejoined tarmac near Woodlands Farm. Bluebird was delighted....tarmac, hmmmmmm, he could put his road shoes to good use here. Our uphill travails were now rewarded with a two mile downhill, all tarmac decent back to the Devon Arms. The descent followed Woodway Road down to the A379/Dawlish Road.

 

Amazingly, the marks had reappeared and some of them were quite new. Convinced that we were doing a repeat of the Halloween trail, we carried on across Dawlish Road. It looked as though we were still on trail as blobs of flour had now given way to white chalk arrows.

 

It was only upon arriving back at the Devon Arms that we noticed marks leading from the Quay car park to the On-Down. We hadn't been on trail since half way down Woodway Road. 

 

Piltdown did show us where we should have gone but I wasn't wearing my glasses. My guess is that we missed a mark which would have taken us right and along Haldon Avenue. This would have explained why the Bird had only clocked-up 4.84 miles on a trail that was, "just over 5". Nevertheless, it was good to have the Bird for company as I was never going to catch up with Beefy.

 

And now, our new feature to keep y'all amused. I offer up for your edification and possible disapprobation:

 

THE TRAIL FILM REVIEW by the Bird

 

TRUE GRIT (1969)

We Shirley got rollin' rollin' rollin' with the most welcome gritted cliff path as we commenced our climb out of Teignmouth. Great traction for mine Hoka pure bred road shoes, but it would be a short-lived luxury...

 

MUDBOUND (2017)

Piltdown and SM Ellie waving the longs up into the boondocks with a cheerful 'Sharp left after three-quarters of a mile!' The sharp left took Man-Pig and the Bird into a veritable skating rink of slick mud. The Hokas struggled valiantly but were Shirley overwhelmed and gave up the ghost (three hundred miles on the clock so they have served me well). Even walking proved problematic and the heart rate was in the red at 150+. Man-Pig scaring me to death by leaping out from behind a truck certainly woke me up. I won't be forgetting that lane for some time..

 

RUNAWAY TRAIN (1985)

Meanwhile, many minutes earlier, Beefy had breasted the muddy rise, passed the military truck and had careered like a Runaway Train hard a starboard en routey for Teignmouth golf course... long two mile detour sigh...

 

DOWNHILL RACER (1969)

Back with the plodders and Oh Glory Be! Can it be So? (Cruise) Blessed Bird beloved boulevard beckoned and, wait for it, a glorious Downhill Racer back into town with both Man-Pig and the Bird in (So) cruise control.

 

THE DOWNDOWNS

Our beer mugs Shirley overflowed as there were two physical awards on show at the snug tavern. Strap-On had returned with the 'Is that my t-shirt Bluebird?' stand-in Hashit shirt and Archangel had the Horse Head hat unceremoniously stuffed in his back pocket .. neighhhh.

 

With Forrest officiating, the hares were first up to be made an example of - I mean to be recognized for their travails. Piltdown's birthday (yes, on the day) did not go unnoticed and bravely did the hares swap sips of the hallowed water of life.

 

Strap-On blamed a detour from the short (again?) onto the quagmire long on Pisswell who was duly awarded Forrest's slimline Old Guys Rule shirt.

 

Archangel had a sad story to relate. Too long to describe but apparently Forrest had been an 'unsociable git' for hiding when Archangel dropped by... Shirley not Forrest? Horse Head hat homes in on its master yet again... the toast was, more charitably - to 'absent friends'.

 

Two more halves to dispense and outrageously did Forrest ad lib.

 

Poor Piddler was singled out for his signature moaning - this time about Forrest's muttley allegedly doing his doggy-do's en route.

 

Finally, SM Ellie lost out on the awarding of the final half - mainly because it was recalled she had downed three previously from the same venue on her virgin lay!

 

POSTSCRIPT

A score draw [sic] attained with Fukarwi making a special guest appearance in the pub and a good time was Shirley had by all. 

 

After three months of injury, a glimmer of hope tonight as I got round with no twinges (but predictably hobbling the next day) and it was glorious to be able to cautiously stride out once more on the long.

I had wrongly assumed/hoped that the trail would have been mainly on road as was the case the last time we were here. Whatamistakatomaka! 

 

Never mind, another memorable trail and thank goodness I followed Man-Pig on our truncated version. I would not have survived Beefy's 7.21 miler!

 

The Deck Hand was great while it lasted but I can confirm that the Gun Dog was an excellent substitute.

 

Well done the hares and thanks to the pub for their hospitality.

 

ON ON to next week and the BIG 1900 HASH from the Cridford Inn at Trusham with Forrest.

MAGIC ARROWS AND A STEWARDS ENQUIRY

by Man-Pig - supported by the Bird

TVH3 Run No. 1898 3rd January 2022 

 

VENUE: The Old Manor Inn, Preston, Paignton

 

HARES: Bobbiball & Man-Pig

 

HOO WUZ THERE?: Bobbiball, Man-Pig, Shitfaced, Bluebird, Only Here for the Beer, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Melonpicker, Soapy, Strap-On, Mrs Strap-On, U-Bend, Beefy, Fallen Woman, Broken Man, Piltdown Man, Smellie, Big End, Well Hopped, Gaga-4-it, Coldtits, Rambo.

 

WHO WUZN'T: Not a bad turnout for the first run of the year

 

THE CIRCLE

Bobbiball droned on for a bit without imparting too much knowledge. A Walkers' trail of about one and a half miles; Shorts maybe 3 1/2 miles and Longs about 5 1/2 miles......maybe? Then there was some confusion as to the first Long/Short split on exiting the pub car park. The Hares had, initially, differing opinions on which way the Shorts went. Then they agreed and then they changed their minds. All very reassuring.

 

THE TRAIL

The Longs turned right out of the car park and headed towards Oldway Mansion; all two of them.....Beefy and Man-Pig. The Walkers and the Shorts turned left out of the car park with the Walkers pretty much following Bobbiball back to his abode for a mulled wine and nibbles stop.

 

Having opted for the Long, there is little I can say about the Shorts until we caught up with them some 25 minutes later. The Longs ducked and weaved around Oldway Mansion before traipsing down Lower Polsham Road, traversing the skate boarding park and ending up at Marine Parade heading towards Torquay and Hollicombe Beach.

 

At the end of Marine Parade, we came across Horny, Pork Torpedo, Soapy and Melonpicker who were doing their own trail. Beefy and I followed the marks inland and up an unadopted road by the name of Hollicombe Lane. A check at Cockington Lane took us up Upper Headland Road before crossing Preston Down Road. The marks took us along Lower Penns Road and the entrance to Preston Park.

Ahead of us torchlight. Lots of it. The Shorts. At almost the highest point in Preston Park a check caused much confusion near Mercer Close with the trail almost coming back on itself. A slippery descent ensued as all entered the woodland of Occombe Valley. It wasn't long before we came to a Walkers/Long and Short split.

 

The Walkers went left and down onto Coombe Road whilst the Longs and the Shorts continued their slide deeper into Occombe Woods. Quite a long while later, atop a slight climb, we came to the second Long/Short split. The Shorts had a quite steep descent to the stream whilst Man-Pig had a lonely slog to the head of the valley in a futile attempt to catch up with Beefy. Or not so lonely as it turned out. For there, ahead of me, were two head torches. I could also hear Beefy calling. However, the head-torches were on a track slightly below me....not part of the trail. It turned out to be Smellie and Strap-On who thought that they were on the Shorts. I took them around the Longs but never did catch up with Beefy until the drinks stop.

 

The Longs trail looped around the top of the two streams that enter Occombe Valley and it wasn't long before we rejoined the Shorts' trail. This latter part of the trail had us on a long slog up a footpath that runs behind Greenpark Road and ends near Kestor Drive. This uphill slog was taking its toll on poor old Smellie who was puffing and panting the whole way up. How she enjoyed the respite of the descent down to Bobbiball's and the reinvigoration of his mulled wine. This descent took us first down Greenford Road, then left along Cranford Road and right again for a long downhill along Albany Road. A final left turn had us at Bobbiball's drink stop on Celia Road.

 

Suitably refreshed, the trio of Smellie, Man-Pig and Strap-On clambered down the steep steps at the end of Celia Road and then left onto Shorton Valley Road. This got a little confusing as we were now running against the marks for the Walkers' trail. To Smellie's relief, it was all downhill now in pretty much a straight line down Coombe Road and back to the Old Manor, passing U-Bend on the way.

 

TITILLATION OR AGGRAVATION?

And now, a Bluebird ballad to titillate or perchance aggravate, Oh Dearly Beloved:

 

Lonely was the furrow plough'd and ghastly was the pace

No hasher seen the evening long but smiley was his face

Entered he Paignton Parkfield grounds, the village of the damned

Round and round and back and forth, Shirley an excursion most unplanned

Der Panzer stop to refuel was his destination bound

Oh lackaday, oh dismal day, it could not be ruddy found

Close at hand ye olde Preston inn and salvation Shirley m'dear

The just reward, need you ask, a pint of Doom Bar beer!

 

No? Well please yourselves then.

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

Once more, no physical awards to award and a stewards enquiry has been convened to identify the miscreants. The hashit shirt remains languishing in some mystery kitbag at Cheerio Beerio's gaff. I cannot preach as I had a previous model interned behind my outside shed drier for two years. Once discovered, it was a write-off as the rats had got at it. Sigh..

 

The Jester's horn-ed hat was last seen being awarded to Roxanne on #1891 whereupon the trail goes cold. Base to Roxanne: Are you in receipt, Roxanne? Over.

 

Our esteemed and missed RA organizer, Teapot, always kept the house in order. A quiet word to awardees after the DD's to see if they were returning the following week or, if not, to give the award to Teapot for safekeeping.

 

Here endeth my sermon, Oh Dearly Reliev-ed.

 

But back to the DD's: Usually reserved for last - the thank you drink for the hares - but the cry went up and the disparate - some say desperate - duo were immediately summoned. Well, Bobby anyway as Man-Pig was already in situ as the RA presiding.

 

Well Hopped mentioned 'Magic arrows' appearing on trail and Man-Pig knew the game was up. Deja vu the Highweek Inn as Pork Torpedo recited his 'Dumb Cum' ditty.

 

SM Ellie and Strap-On were reported for being on the long trail which seems a bit curious as they both should have been anyway. But never mind, since when have awards ever been sensible?

 

Merely magnificent these days and looking as fit as a butcher's dog, Strap-On poured himself into slimline Forrest's Old Guys t-shirt for his downdown showdown with Ellie.

 

Not sure how U Bend escaped a penalty DD as he was seen indecorously (hash circles that is) sipping what looked like a cup of coffee... WHAT?

 

POSTSCRIPT

Well done the hares in laying what is invariably a quiet first hash of the year. After being housebound all over Christmas and the new year, I risked it and went as a biscuit to support my local Rottenführer. The company - as always - was congenial and the Doom Bar tasted great.

 

Only Here for the Beer somehow had wangled a lift from mein Großmeister (Shitfaced you fools) and was sampling the Sharp's Sea Fury 5.0 abv with gusto.

 

I had a fine time as well, thanks MP and Bob.

 

On-On to next week's Hash; Piltdown Man's at the Devon Arms Hotel, Teignmouth.

 

ON-ON from the Pig and the Bird

HASHING HEAVEN AT HASH HQ - FREE FOOD GALORE! by Man-Pig

TVH3 Run No. 1897 27th December 2021 Pubathon Hash

 

VENUE: TVH3 HQ - The Park Inn, Kingskerswell

 

HARE: Shitfaced

 

ROLL CALL: Shitfaced, Hotlips, Zoot, Cheerio Beerio, Gaga-4-it, Fast Auntie Brenda, Laura/Lara (little elf), Arkangel (early), Bobbiball (late), Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Strap-On, Coldtits, Man-Pig, Ollie & dogs, Floss (watching football)

 

IN ABSENTIA: loads

 

THE CIRCLE

Well, it was a small circle with only 12 actually on-trail. Instructions were brief. "Make your way down to the Hare and Hounds. Don't spend more than 20 minutes in the pub because we need to be at the Lord Nelson for 8.15 when food has been arranged. Then make you way to the Park Inn where more food will be available". All free of charge!

 

THE TRAIL

A simple walk down the main road to the Hare and Hounds for our first drink....and first misdemeanour of the evening; a hat was found in the pub just as the last hashers were leaving.

Some exited the Hare and Hounds by the front door and some by the rear door. We all regrouped to make the trek up Southey Lane to the Lord Nelson. On the way, Man-Pig and Coldtits decided to bang on Cinderfella and Miss Whiplash's door to encourage them to swell our numbers. No answer. Bah humbug!

 

On arriving at an incredibly hot Lord Nelson we enjoyed another beer and piping hot pigs-in-blankets. There was also a bizarre conversation involving men in fishnet stockings and the abrasiveness of the coarse wool used in kilt making. More on that later.

 

Finally a short walk back to TVH3 HQ for a couple of pints and the Down-Downs. Total distance, according to Coldtits' Strava: 2.44 miles and not a grain of flour in sight!

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

Yet again there were no physical awards present. Local Harriet, Cheerio-Beerio, was asked what had happened to the Hashshit shirt? "Oh. It's in the laundry". LAUNDRY! "Err....I mean laundry basket". After a lot of wriggling and squirming the final location was determined as being in a rucksack somewhere. That's more like it.

 

The first virtual Down-Down went to Shitfaced. This was for being the Hare and also for organising not one, but two pubs to provide free food. Even better, the free scoff could be washed down by draught beers that are all priced at a mere £3/pint until New Year's Eve at the Park Inn.

 

Arkangel would have got a Down-Down for being in the pub but declining to do the trail. In truth, he would have earned the long-distance award, even without completing the trail. This was because he had walked from Newton Abbot to the Park Inn to watch the 'Quins v Saints' rugby match. 

 

As Arkangel had built-up a 4-pint head start, he elected not to do the trail. Even more sensibly, he had vacated the pub prior to our return. He could see the writing on the wall....."another sesh if I'm not careful". Maybe we'll save this Down-Down till next week?

 

The second award went to returnee Ollie. For it was Ollie who had left his hat in the Hare and Hounds. Now, Ollie is a tad follically challenged. Accordingly, you would have thought that he'd notice straightaway if something was missing atop. Hence a note for, "Cold on top".

 

The third award went to Hotlips who went into graphic detail about his first experience of wearing ladies' fishnet tights. In the absence of any instructions in the packaging, he assumed that you just jumped into them, au naturel, and then donned your underpants Superman style. The net (get it?) result of all this was that he got his private bits uncomfortably entangled in the mesh - a les gills des poisons et les monofilament nets.....ouch! Accordingly a note for, "The trawler man".

 

The fourth Down-Down went to Cheerio-Beerio. Not for contemplating washing the Hashshit shirt, but for having the strength of a finger of Kit Kat. Poor Cheerio was full of cold and wanted to go straight home after the Lord Nelson but it did not take long for Hot Lips to break her will power and encourage her to complete the trail and make it to the Park Inn where she was suitably rewarded. For the first time in hashing history a WKD was awarded as a Down-Down. This was accompanied by, "Here's to Got a cold? Have a Kwik Krap!......"

 

There was one beer left. Had anyone seen anything on trail? No-one had seen anything but Shitfaced, and others, had heard something. The saga of Hotlips' encounter with some fishnet tights was augmented by Man-Pig's commentary of the pros and cons of going commando when wearing a kilt.

Apparently it all rather depends upon the grade of wool used in the kilt material. Most kilts are spun from a very coarse wool. Hence, in going commando, over the course of a full evening of Scottish Country dancing, this has the same effect as polishing one's helmet with 400 grade sandpaper......double-ouch! Hence Shitfaced led the rendition of, "Hold it in your hand Mrs Murphy......"

 

Five Down-Downs. Yes indeedy. With only 12 people on trail, you had nearly a fifty-fifty chance of a Down-Down.

 

On-On to next week's Hash; Bobbiball's run from The Old Manor, Old Torquay Road, Paignton.

 

And, finally, wishing you and your families Happy New Year. Onto 2022 and the hope that we will finally be rid of the coronavirus and a return to some sort of normality.

Monday 13th December location map

 

MONDAY'S MAP 6TH DECEMBER

 

TALL TALES OF TWO LONGS by Man-Pig & the Bird

Run #1892 Monday 29th November

VENUE: The Village Inn, Highweek, Newton Abbot

 

HARES: Only Here for the Beer & Shitfaced

 

ROLL CALL: Only Here for the Beer, Shitfaced, Bluebird (returnee), Melon Picker, Forrest-Stump, Gaga-4-it, Ernie, Fallen Woman, Wet-Johnny, Man-Pig, Piltdown-Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Strap-On, Able Semen, Tamsin (needs a name), Beefy, Pisswell, Rambo, Zen, Big-End, Well-Hopped, Satnav, Threesum, Wetfart, Pork Torpedo & Hornie.

 

IN ABSENTIA: Arkangel, Bobbiball, most Penners, Cheerio Beerio (building kitchen)

 

THE CIRCLE

Only Here for the Beer was the named Hare for the evening's shenanigans. What we didn't know was that he had a co-conspirator - Shitfaced - recently recovered from a wrist injury (self-inflicted!). With these two in charge what could possibly go wrong?

 

Shitfaced engaged us with a rather long winded tale of how they set the trail or, more accurately, how they failed to set the trail. "What do you do if you see a Road Closed sign when setting the trail?". "Carry on", was the obvious response. For we are on foot and road signs do not apply to hashers... or do they? I guess this rather depends on whether or not you're laying the trail by car or on foot.

 

Inevitably, it proved to be the case that much of the trail had been laid with the assistance of the internal combustion engine (in 10 years time the scribe will be writing hydrogen fuel cell).

 

Yes, Shitfaced and Only Here for the Beer came up against a Road Closed sign. Despite the kindly advice of a helpful local, "The road really is closed", Dick Dastardly and Muttley drove on before coming across a huge gaping hole spanning the fill width of the carriageway. Worse still, there was no room to turn around. "Drat and Double-drat". Hence a neck wrenching half mile reverse back to the original road closed sign. Unfortunately, the helpful local was still there. A sheepish smile from Shitfaced towards the good samaritan. Now, if Only here for the Beer's car was covered in astroturf everything would have been explained.

 

Anyway, the outcome of all this was that if you see a road closed sign, ignore it, but only if you're on foot.

 

There was one Long/Short split. The Walkers' trail was completely separate from that of the Longs and Shorts. Accordingly, if the Long trail proved to be too short, just tack on the Walkers' trail at the end. This seemed a tad confusing as the Hare had previously told us that the Longs was six miles.......ho hum.

 

PART 1: MAN-PIG'S LONG

The Longs and the Shorts turned left out of the pub car park and commenced a rather long descent down Ringslade Road to the A382. At the new roundabout, Beefy and Wet Johnny checked left towards the A38 while Big End checked right back towards Newton Abbot. Although Beefy was calling, passing traffic meant that we couldn't hear what he was calling. Nevertheless, as he hadn't come back to the check we decided the he was probably "On". A canter along the A382 took us up to Forches Cross and a big arrow pointing right and onto Greycoat Lane.

 

At the bottom of Greycoat Lane, the only Long/Short split, the Longs went left towards Teigngrace whilst the Shorts took a right towards the old Exeter Road. At this point, the pack was pretty spread out. Wet-Johnny and Beefy were ahead and we couldn't hear any calling from them so they were probably a loooooooong way in front of us. The Pig had been joined by Tamsin and Big End (sans Ned) as we headed towards Teigngrace and the obvious right turn over the railway and Stover canal.

 

Marks took us right along the new cycle path. An obvious route would have been to take us straight on and across the field to join the footpath that runs along the banks of the Teign......but no marks. So it was down the Templer Way following the marks to Teign Bridge.

 

Would we be continuing down the Templer Way to Jetty Marsh road or would we be heading back towards the A382 by the Vauxhall & MG garage? The arrows don't lie and a big arrow pointed us right, along the old Exeter Road, across the A382 and up Whitehill Road. Well, we had started with a long downhill stretch on Ringslade Road so it was inevitable that we would be finishing with a reciprocal uphill slog. And this is exactly what we got from Whitehill Road.....uphill until we hit the pub!

Wet-Johnny and Beefy were only just back at the pub and were looking perplexed. "Only 3.5 miles. But Shitfaced had said it was a six miler". We discussed the route. Wet-Johnny and Beefy had done exactly the same route as ourselves and we had been "On trail" all the time. We couldn't have gone Wong Wei!

Nevertheless, Beefy and Wet-Johnny elected to tack-on the Walker's trail to make up the mileage. Man-Pig, Tamsin and Big End elected to go for a pint of beer instead.

 

Back in the pub, the number of hashers seemed lower than expected. Sure, all the Walkers were back and there would be some Longs still out on trail but what about the Shorts?

 

The only Short we'd seen was Zen whom we'd passed on the climb up Whitehill Road. Where were the others? Later, quite a long time later, Smellie, Strap-On, Ernie and Well-Hopped staggered through the front door of the pub:

 

"Where have you been?" asked the Pig.

"On the Longs", replied Smellie.

"What? till now? It was only three and a half miles", retorted the Pig.

Incredulously, Smellie queried, "Where have you been Man-Pig? The longs was five and a half miles". Smellie was quite adamant about this.

 

Further analysis of the trail revealed that a cunning plan had been conceived by the Hares. "Why don't we put in a second long short split but don't tell anybody? Put down dots the same distance from the junction in every direction and let them find out for themselves? We won't even mark it as check. The best bit is, those that do the longer trail will come back to exactly the same place. They could be going round in circles for ages!" A cunning plan indeed.

 

The net result of Dumb and Dumber's efforts was that some Longs had a jolly jape of circa 5.5 miles whilst the other Longs got away lightly with a mere 3.5 miles. Fortunately, no-one was foolish enough to repeat the loop or even retrace the outgoing trail back to the pub!

 

PART 2: THE BIRD'S LONG

Many thanks MP for manning the ramparts, shades of Beau Geste (1966) (dead legionnaires admittedly) but now, amidst screams of rage and pleas for mercy, the Bird proudly presents the upcoming epic:

 

FIVE CAME HOME (based on the TV mini series 2017)

 

Certificate HHH*

 

All day was the Bird in a state of High Anxiety (1977). After a yawning chasm of six weeks, The Return of the Living Dead (1985) was nigh. BUT would the plan actually work?

 

Oh Yes, Dearly Beloved, it was Shirley showtime and there was a lot riding on Antonio** from Papillon (1973). Failure would Shirley drive the Bird back into his bunker for a considerable time - and that would include all pre-christmas fixtures... I heard that hoorah!

 

It started badly and got worse. Striding Wong Wei (after all of twenty yards) towards the church, the Bird glanced back to see he was alone, whatamistakatomaka.

 

Skulking back onto trail, the longs and shorts had long gone - game over so soon Shirley? Grrrr. To compound his misery, it was quite a steep descent that was more than tricky and the Bird gingerly proceeded at impulse power only, shouting a curse to the skies..

 

A light ahead, a hasher walking a dog mayhap, but try as hard as he could, it proved impossible to get any closer.

 

But he was a tough old Bird and persevered. It became flatter and semi-trundle speed was applied.

'Nice to see you back, BB' came the greeting as the walking dog combo was passed, but I failed to identify the hasher, only learning later that it was Well Hopped and Ned!

 

Poor Well Hopped was also injured and unable to run after taking a tumble from her bike and cracking a rib in her back. Very painful as I can Shirley testify. Ned had a good walk though - Well Hopped appeared after we had finished and changed seventy minutes later.

 

A luridly lit roundabout loom-ed and hashers could be seen in the distance giving the Bird a chance to dance. No need to check, just follow.

 

Zen appeared in the cross-hairs and the Bird closed with menace. A few yards from triumph, Zen broke into a trot and the chance evaporated. However, Zen eventually tired of the manoeuvre and ground to a halt to admire the views and the Bird carved the first notch on his Lee-Enfield.

 

Veering right at Forches Cross, three hashers: SM Ellie, Strap-On and Pisswell were espied and a little further ahead was Ernie, he of the fastest milk cart fame. A veritable mini hash pioneering gaily along - until the manic loping Bird rudely interrupted their peaceful jaunt.

 

And so it began. The Bird surging ahead with a curious loping gait on any gradient (though unfortunately very few) and being rapidly reeled back in on any downhill where the lope could not work.

The banter was convivial indeed and hey! the Bird was back in the Fray Bentos.

 

Approach a familiar railway crossing did the querulous quintet quest with only a slight delay actually undoing the latch.

 

It was here, Oh Dearly Bemused, that the diabolical devil dice duly dispensed disaster (Six Ha!).

He who should never be named, spotted a flour scuff to the left and off we merrily went. Another (dubious) mark beside a bridge reinforced the opinion that we were Shirley on trail but...

 

Confidence began to wane as the highway was reached with no further marks and we turned to Ernie for advice and the way home as the black-attired Bird crow flies.

 

Back we spurred like madmen and a half mile later arrived - back at the railway crossing... sigh.

The Bird threw a tantrum and was loath to embark on another circuit, but gently did they cajole him once more unto the crossing - or close the wall up with our hashing dead.

 

The Groundhog Day (1993) was overwhelming as we came to that far side turn.

And there it was, as plain as plain could be, a crystal clear, ghastly white flour mark on the grass - indicating right.

 

Four pairs of eyes glared accusingly at the Bird who immediately began to wail - not with the guilt but with the realization that there was now another two miles to get to the beer.

 

Singalong with me please to the Bryan Ferry classic:

Let's stick together, come on, come on, let's stick together

You know we made a vow to leave one another never

 

And they Shirley did not leave one another, collecting Rambo on the last climb back into Highweek.

The Famous Five who had endured, received a ticker-tape welcome as they triumphantly entered the pub car park.

 

I need a beer.

 

DOWNDOWNS IN THE HIGHWEEK INN

A paucity of awards to dispense and only the Horse Head Hat on show but never mind, thine RA Forrest weaved and waffled as the seated hash scoffed their bangers and fries.

 

A sympathy award to the Bird - listed as a 'returnee' by MP, so long has he been away.

 

That old chestnut 'parking' was cited as the misdemeanour and MP was in the frame for revving and reversing his lady wife's 'Kensington canoe' in and around the slanting chariot tether.

 

The Song Master was given the nod and such was the delivery, MP choked and had difficulty recovering his composure to down the Raven abv 3.8.

 

The heavily censored version of the song herewith:

'He's stupid, he's stupid,

He's really ****ing dumb,

If it wasn't for his mother,

He'd be a spot of c**e!'

 

Two halves of Raven for the hares turned into an impromptu downdown competition with Only Here false starting and having to top up his glass which gave a slight advantage to the Grand Master to take the honour.

 

POSTSCRIPT

With Dog End poorly, Only Here for the Beer called in Shitfaced to assist. I was most relieved about the predominantly road trail and may not have ventured out if advised it was rough cross-country terrain.

 

Yes, it was mainly my mistaka that took our Band of Brothers on our unadvertised long split. 'A hasher of your experience missing that..' was Ernie's take as we sighted the clear mark second time around. But we had a fun time out there and grateful was I for the company of Strap-On, Ernie, Pisswell and SM Ellie.

 

Well done the hares!

 * As played by the late Gregory Sierra (see photo) who was Puerto Rican by descent. A frightening chase scene ensues through the jungle, with Antonio and Papillon pursued by Indian trackers with blowpipes. Antonio does not run, he lopes but is still quicker than Papillon (Steve McQueen) who runs conventionally. The scene left a lasting memory and was recalled recently when I found myself unable to run after adductor injury.

•  

** HHH = Hasher health hazard

 

On-On to next week and Manaton Village Hall; meet at the Church car park. Hare Pisswell will arrange beer and scoff so no need to BYO.