A SHIRLEY VALENTINE (1989)* HASH

INSPIRED HARES & FINE CHOCOLATES

by Man-Pig

 

Run #1904 Monday 14th February from the Palk Arms at Hennock

 

HARES: Melon-Picker & Soapy

 

Who wuz there: Melon-Picker, Soapy, Shitfaced, Piltdown Man, Georgy-Porgy, Cheerio-Beerio, Hotlips, Zoot, Forrest-Stump (pubee) , Teapot, Wetfart, Beefy, Well-Hopped, Ned, Swinger, Wet-Johnny, Manopause, Erection, Broadshit, Coldtits, Man-Pig, Fallen Woman, Able, Rambo, returnees UB, Notty and virgins Sarah, Andy and Jacqui.

 

Who wuzn't: apologies from Bluebird and Bobbiball, Smellie (Covid)

 

THE CIRCLE

It's been a while since we last ran from the Palk Arms. In the daylight it has the most stunning of views over the Teign Valley. However, even with a clear night and an almost full moon, the views were lost from sight. Cue a hash from here in the summer so that we can appreciate the scenery. Sunday's weather had been atrocious and the temperature had dropped throughout the day on Monday. How many would turn up? A goodly number, 27 all told - including two returnees and three virgins.

 

Teapot welcomed virgins Sarah (works at Hennock primary school) and Andy (took the King's shilling at the Park Inn courtesy of Shitfaced and was duly press-ganged unto turning up) into the circle. Both were anointed in the traditional manner - with a liberal dusting of flour. Sarah almost got nominated for a down-down before we'd even started the trail. Accused of having "new shoes", she replied, "I've only just cleaned them!"......in this weather?

 

Shitfaced gave us a quick plug for the distillery tour on 26 February and then it was the spiel from the Hares: "Walkers' trail about 2 miles - but have your sweeties now as you will miss the sweetie-stop. Shorts about three and a half. Longs five. Three Long/Short splits. There is a sweetie-stop". A little confusion as to whether the marks were on the left or the right. It was concluded that the marks could be either.

 

THE TRAIL

Man-Pig led the charge as the Hares directed us back down Church Lane, through the village and past the primary school to the first Long/Shorts and Walkers split. The Longs went left down a footpath last used by the Walkers on Forrest's Firework Hash trail. The Walkers and the Shorts continued down to Five Lanes Junction where the Hares directed them up the muddy footpath known as Beacon Lane. I am assuming that Beacon Lane is so called because it had a signal beacon at it's highest point to warn of the attempted invasion by the Spanish Armada. If anyone knows any different, answers on a postcard please.

 

HARES INSPIRED

Beacon Lane rejoins tarmac at Chericombehead where, yet again, the Hare was waiting for us. This was another five way junction and afforded a natural point at which to direct the Longs, Shorts and Walkers onto different trails - how inspired is that?

 

POUNDSHOP SHARES PLUMMET

Melonpicker directed the Longs left towards Shaptor Cross. The Walkers went right and straight down Bell Lane and back to the pub. The Shorts was almost straight across and a long downhill canter along Beadon Lane to the bridge over Beadon Brook. The trail beared right and into Netton Cleave Wood where Soapy was manning the superior Valentine's Day sweetie-stop. No plastic bags of sweets from the Poundshop here. A fine box of milk chocolates.....hmmm, lovely.

 

NIGHT FISHING (2011)

From here the trail ran a short way along Beardon Brook till a single plank footbridge took us onto the public footpath on the south side of the brook. Up and up we went through woodland following very clear and very close marks. Past Great Rock and a disused mine before dropping steeply down to a small lake where some anglers were doing a spot of night fishing.

 

At the bottom of the steep descent it was a right turn at Greatrock Farm and up a concrete road for 100 yards before turning left and following the footpath signs up a very steep track through woodland. At the top a traverse along the edge of an open field before joining the dead end of the lane that took us back to the Palk Arms. All very well laid with plenty of clear marks. Big thumbs up, well done Hares.

The Longs, meanwhile, had to contend with 2/3 Long/Short splits. The first was in Hennock and took us down a footpath to Warm Hill Farm and a check. Man-PIg, who thought he knew where he was, checked downhill. BONG! Wrong. Beefy checked up Warm Hill and came to a check at the first crossroads.

 

I reached the check to find Swinger, Well-Hopped and Ned waiting for a call. It was almost certainly straight on and up to Five Lanes. Wrong again. Broadshit returned from the right calling, "False trail". Then, in the opposite direction; this was Beefy calling. The trail was left and heading away from Hennock. Not a good sign.

 

SHAMEFACED?

A fairly long downhill to another check at a junction with a muddy track on the right hand side. This looked promising and it wasn't long before we heard Beefy calling "On-On". I'd never been up here before. It is, incredulously, classified as a road! It is called Shamefaced Lane (I wonder why?).

 

WETFART CALLS TIME

Sure enough, it exited at Five Lanes where we rejoined the Longs and the Walkers. Ascending the very wet Beacon Lane, it wasn't long before hashers came into sight. These would be the Walkers. We'd caught up with Wetfart who was suffering the interminable hill. "Shout when you reach the top Man-Pig", was Wetfart's plea to which I was happy to oblige. Next to be overtaken was Coldtits. Then Shitfaced. Just before arriving at Chericombehead we passed Zoot and Hotlips.

 

WETFART REVISITED

At Chericombehead, the Longs went left and then right at Shaptor Cross to arrive back at the Walkers/Short & Longs split at Chericombehead. I'd been pretty much on my own since the second check. No sight of Beefy in front of me or Swinger, Well-Hopped and Broadshit behind me. Hence it came as a welcome respite to catch up with Wetfart for the second time on the descent down Beadon Lane.

 

THE LAST TRAIL (1927)

A short while later and I caught up with Coldtits, again, and then Manopause and Erection just before the sweetie-stop. After a very nice chocolate, I carried on along the trail to find Melon-Picker guiding Hashers towards the footbridge. This was the last Hasher that I would see on trail until the pub. Just as well the trail was well marked.

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

Thine RA Man-Pig welcomed everyone to the Palk Inn. The first item on the agenda was to thank the pub for opening as it has only just started reopening on Monday nights. Indeed, apart from the Hash there were only two punters at the bar. We, additionally, thanked the pub for the beer. Most hashers had, in fact, found something pink to wear in the pub. However, most hashers had not brought their better halves. Would we all be in the dog house when we got home?

 

TEAPOT'S TALL TALES

Without further ado, it was time to dish out the Awards. Wetfart had the Hashshit shirt. This he awarded to Teapot for compulsive lying. Teapot had made up stories about how good/ bad, hilly/flat, wet/dry the trail was when he hadn't done any of it! A note for Pinnochio and his long nose.

 

HORSE HEAD HAT HOMES IN ON CARROT-CRUNCHER

Next up was Man-Pig who had the Horse Head Hat to give away. Having seen nothing on trail apart from a mouse and a box of chocolates he had to think hard. It was almost a full moon and the road sections could easily be managed without the use of a torch. However, Beefy was observed taking his torch into the pub. Obviously he needs to improve his night vision by increasing Beta-Carotene in his diet. A note for the carrot-cruncher.

 

PUDDING & PIE FOR BIRTHDAY GIRL?

No more stories or, indeed, awards. But there was a birthday girl. It was Georgy Porgy's birthday the previous day. Obviously, "All the right notes. Not necessarily in the right order".

 

HARES COME DANCING

As Georgy had opted for water, this left two halves to be distributed. No-one more deserving than our two Hares for the evening. Before the down-downs there was some discussion about the missing Songmeister, as only he knows all the songs and all the words. Nevertheless, there was some recollection of, "I'm climbing up sunshine mountain...." followed by a passable attempt at Father Abraham with all the associated limb movements and "Oooohs" and "Ahhhrs".....interesting. Accordingly a note for "Come dancing".

 

Well done Hares. Good trail. Good marks and well done everyone who made the effort to find something pink.

 

* I couldn't resist..

 

NEXT WEEK

Smugglers Inn near Holcombe, between Teignmouth and Dawlish. Hare is Piltdown Man, no doubt assisted by Georgy Porgy.

 

On-On to next week.

CHEERS FOR CHEERIO BEERIO'S VIRGIN TRAIL - 'DISABLED' ABLE CLAIMS HER 900 BADGE - RAMBO JOINS DORIS ON AWESOME 1400 RUN

Run #1903 Monday 7th February from the Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell

 

HARES: Cheerio-Beerio, Little Eva, Zoot & Hotlips

 

Who wuz there: Cheerio-Beerio, Hotlips, Zoot, Shitfaced, Forrest-Stump, Teapot, Pollyfella, Bluebird, Beefy, Pisswell (late but earlier than last week), Threesum, Martin, Piltdown-Man, Georgie-Porgy, Smellie, Broadshit, Coldtits, Wetfart, Man-Pig, Archangel, Only Here for the Beer, Rambo, Able Semen, Tamsin, Strap-On, Well Hopped, Big End & Ned, Wet Johnny, Manopause and Erection.

 

Through a gloomy gorge she struggled, valley of the shade of death..

The rutted and tortuous ascent began to take its dreadful toll and she struggled to catch her breath.

And then - her head torch failed and she was overtaken by an all-consuming darkness...

 

It was indeed going to be A Night to Remember (1958) for the 'disabled' Able.

 

THE CIRCLE

It was back to Kingskerswell, the adopted home of Teign Valley Hash, for Cheerio-Beerio's virgin lay. As usual, Shitfaced welcomed all to the hash and put in a plug for the Dartmoor Distillery visit. This is scheduled for the afternoon of 26th February.

 

With no announcements, virgins or returnees, it was straight over to our virgin hare for the evening, Cheerio-Beerio. Before describing the trail, Cheerio wanted to know how many people would be wanting sausage and chips in the pub afterwards. Cheerio counted seven raised hands and then queried, "Is that correct?", to which Only Here for the Beer innocently replied, "I don't know. I wasn't counting". Great merriment all round. With seven confirmed sausage noshers Cheerio gave us the barest, but nevertheless accurate, description of the trail: "Walkers two and a half. Shorts three and a half. Longs five and a half. Three dots and On". And On it was.

 

THE TRAIL

The Hash continued to make a major contribution to major flour shortages in the Torbay area as an enormous arrow directed us left and up Fluder Hill. Just past the junction between Fluder Hill and Southey Lane an arrow, partially concealed by roadworks, took us left and down the narrow lane and through Daccombe Mill. 

 

Bluebird had stolen an early lead followed by a struggling Man-Pig (with a working torch this week). It wasn't long before Beefy overtook with the three of us arriving at a crossroads and the first check by Aller Brook House. The trail led straight across and into the footpath that runs along the edge of Aller Brook. At the end of the footpath another large arrow. Left and uphill towards Coffinswell.

At the first junction another check. Beefy made a beeline for Coffinswell. Man-Pig opted for the obscure little lane to the left. Bluebird, as a true hash professional, stood on the check waiting for someone to call. Three dots in rapid succession and a call from the Pig. Left it is, but only for 100 yards before a junction and an arrow pointing right towards Coffinswell Church. At the bottom of the hill, some 250 yards distant, the Walkers/Long split.

 

The Walkers went left and up and over the footpath known as Coffinswell Lane. Coffinswell Lane starts as a fairly wide and steep footpath but narrows considerably at its zenith. It is also the route of a cast iron water main which occasionally breaks the surface. In places it is quite deeply rutted and unstable under foot. However, it is a footpath well worn by the hash over a number of years.

 

Despite being dry, on this particular evening, many of the Walkers found it more akin to an ankle breaking torture rather than an evening's jolly jaunt in the countryside. When tarmac was eventually encountered, outside Kingskerswell Primary School, it was a simple walk down to the Sloop and a left along Kerswell Road and back to the Lord Nelson. Suffering Walkers included Wetfart, Able Semen, Rambo and Shitfaced. No whining from Only here for the Beer. Heeding last week's mantra that Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance, Only Here for the Beer had adorned ankle high hiking boots for the evening....a good choice sir!

 

Back on trail, the Longs and the Shorts contained back into the centre of Coffinswell, passing the Church and Only Here for the Beer's former two residences. Outside the Linney, another arrow directed us left and through one of Devon's prettiest villages (well, in the daylight it is!). After 250 yards a check. Man-Pig checked uphill but after only 25 feet encountered the three dots. Back to the check to kick it out. Beefy, Pollyfella and the Bird were just arriving at the check and all four of us ran up the hill past a house on the right hand side called "Tickenham". I always remember this name because it sounds like Twickenham. Talking of which, did anyone see the rugby at the weekend?

 

Almost inevitably, the trail took us onto Milber Lane, behind Aller quarry, and past Haccombe Farm House and the Paraprick residence. Just outside his residence, we encountered the Long/Short split. The Shorts went left and down Yew Tree Hill to Romany Jones. Then it was left and a straight run back to the pub along the main road through Kingskerswell.

 

The Longs continued along Milber Lane, behind Aller, almost to its end. Beefy was in pole position and pulling away. Man-Pig, Lewis Hamiltonesque, in second position but torchlight not far behind. This was a partially recovered Polyfella. No sign of Bluebird. This was not surprising as he'd gone on the Short's trail.

 

At the end of Milber Lane, yet another arrow. This directing us into first, Ben Stedman Wood and then the Penn Inn Plantation. The marks were good. Very good. No chance of getting lost on this hash. I had lost sight of Beefy. He must have pulled away. But I could hear someone behind me and they were catching up fast. I was pushing myself hard. Who on earth could this be? Was it Wet-Johnny? I hadn't seen him at the Circle. Tamsin perhaps? She is quite quick. Whoever it was, they had a jolly bright torch. Curiosity got the better of me. I pulled over to let the athlete overtake. It was Beefy. "I thought you were in front of me?". "I was", came the reply, "But I stopped for a pee". Hash slash it was then.

A few yards later and we came to the end of the woods just north of the Penn Inn roundabout. With no-one else in sight, it was a left turn and into the Milber Housing estate. It wasn't long before we picked up the dots as we ran back towards Kingskerswell, parallel with the new Kingskweswell bypass. Beefy continued to pull out a lead as we progressed towards the On-Down. Along a straight patch of road I looked behind me too see if there was anyone else on the longs. Maybe 300 yards away I could see a lone Hasher. This was Pollyfella. A pretty good effort as he's just returned from injury. 

 

Outside Romany Jones the Longs' trail rejoined the Shorts' trail. By the time I reached the Sloop I had caught up with the co-hares for the evening, Zoot and Hotlips. "On-On", "On-On' is the traditional Hash response as I staggered past en route to a quick shower before the Down-Downs.

 

Thankyou Hares. I thought that it was a jolly good effort by Cheeri-Beerio on her virgin lay. The three closely spaced dots certainly made for a fast run. Back at the pub by 8.13 so plenty of time for a s**t, shower and s**g before heading back to the On-Down (only one of those three is true).

 

NELLIE DOWNDOWNS

Commenced as usual by thanking the pub for the beer, but we may have been a tad premature with the applause. With three awards from last week and two big badges on the agenda, the RA Forrest was faced with a Five Fishes and Two Loaves dilemma. You'll see what I mean later Oh Dearly Short-Changed..

 

HEINOUS PAVEMENT PARKING

First to be summoned to the oche was Wetfart for alleged pavement parking. The usual 'treat' of Wetfart stripping off for the event was cancelled and a cheer went up. A note for the Pavement Parker, he's so blue!

 

SHIRT MISTAKA

Archangel, accompanied by the bewhiskered cum pampas grass chewing Homing Horse Head hat called into question Man-Pig's Burn's Night dress code - wearing a New Zealand shirt. A note for Scotland the Brave please.

 

ROAD TRIP RECIPES

Pollyfella was honest to admit that he had gone to the Park Inn (we did wonder why he was seen running on the main road prior to the circle) but never mind and the Jester's Hat was destined for ThreeSum for entertaining online with various road trip recipes. A note for gluttony please..

 

RUN OUT OF BEERIO?

Only two awards as we had run out of beer. It seems that there were only three halves supplied but times being as they are, understandable - but perhaps we should have bought two more halves as is usual when this happens?

 

Fortunately, no beer was needed for our successful virgin hare Cheerio Beerio - the name gave the clue and she downed a water before the Big Badge awardees took centre stage. And when I say BIG I mean VERY BIG BADGES.

 

Able survived the walkers hill of woe to take possession of her 900 run badge in a fetching yellow - the badge you fools, not Able!

 

Fellow hill of woe survivor Rambo swept to joint first place in the Teign Valley Hash Hall of Fame with a stupendous 1400 run badge, joining dear Doris. 

 

We bow to your achievement Rambo - awesome, just plain awesome.

 

POSTSCRIPT

Didn't she do well! Yes, three cheers for Cheerio Beerio's virgin lay. I had good reason to applaud as the L/S split came not a moment too soon. Pollyfella sensed I was struggling and paused to make sure all was well as I saluted and gratefully free-wheeled down to Zigzag quarry and the haven of the main road run in.

 

Cheerio may have half thought that I was half serious (me?) when I teased about the Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) that the walkers encountered on their two mile odyssey but it certainly tasked those that undertook the trail and well done those that did! I don't think I would have relished descending that lane with no head torch!

 

I cannot recall - possibly as it has never happened on a hash before - an award not being given owing to no available beer and let's hope that a further shrinkage of the downdown (the pint downdown a fading memory - when hashers were hashers) is on the cards. Mind you, they do a third of a pint beer glass!

And high sweltering summer Shirley arrived early inside the Nelson with that fierce log burner. All we needed was a ladle of water to have a group sauna!

 

ON ON to next week and the Palk Arms, Hennock. Hares are Soapy and Melonpicker for the St Valentine's Day hash (for those of us who are allowed out). WEAR SOMETHING PINK!

 

It's goodbye from Man-Pig and goodbye from me. ON ON!

HURLED HORSE HEAD HAIR HAVOC & FAREWELL TO JACKIE

 

Run #1902 from the Red Rock Brewery, Humber with Well Hopped, Dad, Big End and Shitfaced

 

HARES: Big End, Well Hopped, Dad & Shitfaced

 

Who wuz there: Big End, Well Hopped, Shitfaced, Teapot, Piddler, Pollyfella, Bluebird, Beefy, Wet Johnny, Manopause, Threesum, Piltdown-Man, Georgie-Porgy, Smellie, Broadshit, Strap-On, Coldtits, Wetfart, Man-Pig, Cheerio-Beerio (& Dave the sausage dog), Archangel, Only Here for the Beer, Fallen Woman, Swinger and Ernie (fastest milk cart) from TamarH3.

 

Who wasn't: Ned, Bobbiball - but he did mange to return the horse's head hat!

 

THE CIRCLE

Shitfaced reminded us that subs were due and then moved swiftly onto a proposed distillery tour. Currently scheduled for 26th February at circa £15 a head. This will include whisky and gin tasting. If we get decent numbers, say around 20, then the distillery will put on a barrel of beer for us; maybe an extra £3 a head but this translates to 4 pints of beer each. This is on top of whiskey and gin. What can possibly go wrong?

 

Over to the Hares. The trail had been laid the previous day by Big End and Well Hopped and Well Hopped's dad. Instructions had been provided to Shitfaced regarding laying the Walkers' trail.

The divide and conquer trail laying meant that there were small parts of the trail that may not join up perfectly. This had been compounded by overnight rain which had washed out a number of marks. 

 

"Never fear", Big End and Well Hopped had been out earlier in the evening and put big arrows at all the important junctions. "You will know where you are", were the reassuring last words of the Hare before we embarked upon the relaid trail. Shorts were advertised as about one and a half of your English country miles; Shorts, about four and a half; Longs 6.03 miles (if you did not stray from the marked route....ahem!

 

THE TRAIL

It may have rained overnight, but the day's strong winds had dried out the trail very nicely. Exiting the brewery, it was a right turn and the first check outside Lindridge Park. It wasn't long before the trail was located to our right taking us up through the tiny hamlet of Humber and the first Long/Short split.

The Shorts and the Walkers went right and up the public footpath known as Three Trees Lane. This took them up to Little Haldon and Teignmouth Golf Course. The Longs carried on and took the next public footpath that leads to Luton and rejoins tarmac outside The Elizabethan Inn. Then it was a long climb up to the golf club; the same long climb that we did on Piltdown Man's back in May; one of our first post lockdown trails.

 

Of course, this time it was dark. Very dark. I had not charged up my torch battery and, worse still, I had left my spare battery in the car. There is a saying comprising the five P's - Prior Planning Prevents Pisspoor Performance. Oh how I wish that I'd adhered to this mantra as I had to turn my torch off at every opportunity to save power.

 

Never mind, we were on tarmac and, as we climbed up towards the golf course, I could see torchlight. It was Well-Hopped and Swinger. This bit of road is a long uphill pain in the a**e. However, on the upside, it is fairly straight. It wasn't long before more torchlight appeared in front of me. This was Bluebird and Pollyfella. 

 

I got to within 15 feet of them as we came to the second Long/Short split at the first crossroads. Oblivious to their pursuer, Pollyfella and Bluebird opted for the Short.

 

Man-Pig went straight ahead only to bump into a returning Beefy. No marks. We had overshot the arrow that took us diagonally across part of the golf course and through the golf club car park.

Next, it was a short downhill and a right turn into a small car park and the footpath through the woods to the picnic area where Bobbiball had his birthday drink stop last May. 

 

Without illumination, I was wholly reliant on Beefy for assistance. Progress was slow through the woods and it wasn't long before Swinger, Broadshit and Well Hopped caught us up. Just as well really as, without the Hare, we would all have missed the little loop back into White Well wood before rejoining the Shorts' trail.

 

A 400 yard downhill stretch of road brought us to the public footpath near Higher Radway Farm. This is a steep descent across a field and then a footpath that brings you out and onto Teign View Road in the upper reaches of Bishopsteignton. An arrow to the right took us up towards Clanage Cross. Would we be passing through the cemetery or would we be dropping down onto Forder Lane?

 

A blurred mark to our left looked like it had been scrubbed out but it was a mark nevertheless. Down the paved steps towards Radway Road. More marks, but odd marks. Long arcs of flour. These looked to have been laid from a moving car. We continued our descent through the housing estate losing sight of all marks along the way.

 

At this point, we were oblivious to the fact that we were being chased by a screaming Big End...."On back! On back!". We never heard him. Nor did we see Swinger and Well Hopped again until the pub. Defiantly, and in the face of no marks at all (after all, we weren't on trail), the Pig, Beefy and Broadshit forged their own trail back to the brewery.

 

By the time we reached Colway Cross, we picked up the marks again. This led us behind the half dozen cottages that form Ashwell and then diagonally across a field to exit onto a lane with a large "OH" in flour. Our decision to follow our own imaginary marks probably added another mile to our trail. Oh well, C'est la vie.

 

My thanks to Beefy for being my guiding light for the majority of the trail. Additionally, my apologies for omitting him from the list of last week's recipients of Down-Downs. Mea culpa.

Many thanks MP and now, whether you like it or not:

 

BACK TO THE RED ROCK BABY

It was just a drop down the hill to Shaldon bridge and then a tootle along the Bishopsteignton road before the conundrum of the ascent to the Red Rock Baby ranch house. The aged Bird did not want any chariots pestering from the rear, so when one appeared in the rear view mirror, the Bird took evasive action.

 

Savagely did he slew to the left outside the Cockhaven Manor but the tailing chariot did not pass, merely hesitating until reluctantly it seemed, proceeding onwards.

 

Inside that chariot was Wetfart who muttered: 'It's that Pillock Bluebird!' as he passed. Sigh.

 

Safely gathered into the brewery grounds, the Bird ventured inside the ranch house. Jackie immediately cried: 'Sorry, but I have no veggie pasties tonight!' 'No matter, I have brought a cheese and brown sauce sarnie!' came the triumphant rejoinder. HA! Don't you love it when a plan comes together... No? Well...

 

On The Comeback Trail (2020) but on only ten miles a week, the Bird weighed up his trail options.

(a) Go at a snail's pace and not be mentioned in despatches or 

 

(b) go Blazing Saddles (1974) whistling Dixie for as long as the chassis survived. The question simply was: Did I feel lucky, well did I, punk?

 

Sent into the Humber wilds on a chilly but dry evening, enthusiasm seemed in short supply. The grand exception being an unlikely candidate who, operating at 6:40 pace hit the make your minds up first check at the junction. Barely pausing, the Bird winged it right, oh yes, Dearly Doubtful, a rare thing to see, actually checking it out! On one, on two - ON ON! The Bird was only on!

 

Up the metalled road fled he and glory be, the L/S split veered left, continuing on level tarmac and not up the dreaded hill of woe.

 

There was but one taker, Beefy, who moved easily alongside the thrashing Bird. For a mile and a half they kept company - until Beefy was satisfied that the Bird seemed in no immediate danger of collapse - and then Beefy drifted effortlessly away into the night.

 

The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long and the Bird had burned so very brightly..

Fearfully looking behind, flickering head torches were discerned and the white flag was hoisted.

Pollyfella came across a sorry sight, the Bird sitting on a bank but not quite deceased. Sufficiently recovered, the duo continued on impulse power only (Pollyfella injured) but searching for the exit and the final L/S split.

 

Just short of the split, a clammy hand reached out towards the dread duo. Cloaked in darkness, The Night Visitor (1971 starring Max von Sydow as the mad axe murderer- highly recommended) was at large and had relentlessly closed in on the hapless hashers in front. Just as contact was about to be made, Pollyfella and the Bird sheered off right and the claw was withdrawn - whoa! That was a close one.

 

A clever trail indeed as we emerged back onto the first L/S split and the OH, well laid the hares!

The stern line by MP:

 

The Down-Downs (Bluebird to draft properly....don't forget anybody!)

 

RED ROCK BABY DOWN-DOWNS

Oh how rip-roarious were the DD's and confusion reigned unbridled in the snug and welcoming confines of the ranch house.

 

We thanked the Red Rock Baby for the beer (£2.75 a pint and Wetfart was in hash heaven) and the party got underway.

 

SM Ellie was first up with the Hallowed Homing Horse Head - kindly returned by Bobby but sporting what seemed to be a double hernia (some idiot had ripped the stuffing out both sides!) which caused mayhem with the eaters and drinkers alike.

 

SM Ellie hadn't got any stories and by rights should have worn it herself but chose to hurl the horse hat across the void and select any unfortunate hasher it should alight upon. ARGHHH! A shower of the strange substance cascaded and contaminated as the hat fell into Piddler's pasty. Understandably, Piddler failed to see the humour in the crash landing and refused to participate.

 

He who should not be named, retrieved the head and projected it in the opposite direction with even more disastrous consequences (some said it was a perfect lob).

 

KERPLUNK! The space travelling horse head alighted smack bang onto Archangel's pasty and the horse hat hurler thought it prudent to duck and conceal his identity. Archangel took it quite well and a note for "Tesco's Finest" - a reference to Tesco's ready meals being made from horse meat and downed the half before resuming consuming.

 

Secondly summoned was the hero of last week's caberathlon, one Beefy McCaber and he had a surprise award in hand - a Bat Hat Baby! 

 

Oh Dearly How I've Missed You, how long has my baby languished in some moorland cubbyhole? And there to greet my baby was the Supreme Bat Hat, now fully vindicated from the outrageous slurs heaped upon his kind by a flawed humanity.

 

But what was this? The keeper of the Bat Hats stepped forward, bizarrely attired in jeans and body warmer and babbling (as usual) inanely about some film he was portraying. Only one hasher, Broads, recognized the apparition as being Swan (Michael Beck) from The Warriors (1978). Furious Googling by ThreeSum captured the image to be duly posted to an incredulous membership.

 

A Birthday DD was next on the Mad Hatter's Tea Party list - Pollyfella, come on down - literally as the infamous doggy bowl was produced by a resurgent Teapot. It wasn't pretty and eventually Pollyfella gave best and surrendered the last dregs over his head. Mavis, where are you when we need you!

Two badges were brandished by the Grand Master: A 50 beginner's badge for Strap-On and a Big 500 for Piltdown Man - as correctly called by the Blue.

 

Oh Shirley Sacrilege - both awardees requested water, what is the hash coming to? In the background, the hard working hares supped their reward drink, bravissimo!

 

A special mention for our hostess Jackie who had deferred her retirement for one day in order to serve our TVH party crew. 

 

Thank you Jackie from all at Teign Valley Hash.

 

POSTSCRIPT

A little late for the trail - twenty hours to be precise - Pisswell nevertheless completed the long, plus a little extra, making 7 miles plus. An added bonus was that she was able to enjoy the views! She's a hasher through and through as they sing. Try and be on time next week please, Pisswell!

 

What a great evening and I wasn't in trouble when I got back home, thank goodness.

 

ON ON to next week and the Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell; virgin lay by Cheerio-Beerio

And finally, It's goodbye from me and goodbye from MP ON ON!

TEAPOT AND PORK TORPEDO QUITE SIMPLY SUBLIME McBEEFY STARS ON TRAIL WITH HIS CABERATHLON

24th January 2022 - McBell Inn, Bovey Tracey - 1901st Run - Burns' Night

by MacPig

 

HARES: Cold McTits (Longs and Shorts) & Shit McFaced (Walkers)

Who wuz there: Cold McTits, Shit McFaced, Forrest McStump, McTeapot, Pork McPedo, McHornie, Piss McWell, McBeefy, Three McSum, Sat McNav, Piltdown-Mac, Georgie-McPorgy, McSmellie, McStrap-On, Mrs McStrap-On, Big Mac, Well McHopped, McNed, Mac-Pig, Arc McAngel, Hot McLips, McZoot, Cheerio McBeerio, Blue McBird, Only Here for the McBeer, Fallen McWoman, Able McSemen, T-McHumper, I McPoo'd, Just McCumming, McGrinder, Deep McThroat

Who wasn't: McRambo (skiing), Bobbi McBall (poorly - although he did offer to drop off the Horses head hat)

 

INTRODUCTION

Wow. What a fantastic evening! And wasn't it good to have McTeapot back after such a long absence? And just in time to pipe-in the Haggis; resplendent in full highland evening dress. Brilliant. And just when you thought that this could not be bettered, another spectacular performance by a similarly attired Pork McPedo. Porky beguiled and amazed us with the traditional Toast to the Haggis. All eight verses of it and all from memory including the actions of slicing open the haggis and squeezing out its entrails. Truly awesome. A wonderful sight to behold....especially in a village pub on the edge of Dartmoor. Who'd have thought it? Fantastic.

 

PRE-CIRCLE

An early start for TVH this evening. The Hares had organised a pre-trail mini-distillery tour at The Dartmoor Distillery. The owners took us through a fast forwarded video of the history of the distillery. Founded in 2017 and using a cognac still imported from France. Now deemed to be too small to be commercially viable for the likes of Martell and Remy Martin, they had found their way to the fringes of Dartmoor for a new lease of life. Whilst the cognac still is used for the whisky, another still is being used for the Dartmoor gin. This is another import from France but last used in 1959. It was interesting to see the tiny bead blaster used to clean the outside of the stills to reveal the beautiful copper beneath - all hand beaten I would think.

 

I understand that our mini-visit might be a precursor to a more formalised visit on 26th February. If the Hash can drum up enough interest, the distillery might even put on a barrel of beer for us. Shit McFaced is still in negotiations, so watch this space for further details.

 

THE CIRCLE

Shit McFaced correctly pronounced Buvvy Tracey and reminded everyone that subs were now due. Over to Cold McTits for the lowdown on the trail. A Walkers' trail of about one and a half miles. A Shorts' of, maybe, three miles. Longs' around five miles but ".......do the Walkers' loop first before rejoining the Shorts' trail".

 

THE TRAIL

Down Fore Street heading for the Dolphin, we crossed over the River Bovey opposite where the Riverside Inn once was; now a Tescos Express. A peculiar split as the Longs and the Walkers veered right and into a park whilst the Shorts carried on and up past the Dolphin. Oh, what confusion in the park. The marks were fine as we carried on along the western bank of the River Bovey. Then - nothing. Ahead, over another small bridge and an opportunity to go left, right or straight ahead....nothing. A lot of wandering around and checking - even though there was no check.

 

The majority of the pack checked out the north and east periphery of the park but nothing. McPig eventually committed to checking out the eastern bank of the Bovey and found a couple of marks. However, these proved to be from last week's Ashburton Hash so Mac-Pig ended up back at the first check and returning to the Walkers and Longs/Shorts split just as the Walkers were all returning to the pub. C'est la vie.

 

Well behind the Longs and the Shorts, Mac-Pig got back on trail just in time to catch up with Forrest McStump at the Long/Short split. This was just after passing through Challabrook Farm. Forrest went Short whilst Mac-Pig opted for a lonely long. This took the Longs up Chapple Road. This follows the route of the Templer Way and along the lower reaches of the granite tramway that extends up to Haytor.

It wasn't long before the sweetie-stop was in sight and some Cadburys McRoses chocolate were consumed before continuing the lonely plod up to a farmhouse. This was Whisselwell Farm and I wasn't supposed to be here. A kindly young farmer redirected me back from whence I came. "An arrow". A big one too that I had clearly missed.

 

As soon as I commenced the clamber up the watery farm track, I knew exactly where I was. This was a Piss McWell trail that we'd done a couple of years ago and, again, by Ash Hash last summer. The track is a public footpath that takes us up to Lower Brimley.

 

At Lower Brimley, an arrow clearly directed us down Brimley Lane and back towards Bovey Tracey. Over the A382 and past the northern edge of the playing fields and past St John's church. An arrow pointed us across a road and then right into a housing estate before going down the footpath that took us out at the Station car park into the middle of Bovey Tracey. Up Fore Street and back to the car for a quick change into something Scottish.....I wonder what that might be?

 

TEIGN VALLEY EXCEL INSIDE THE BELL

"Wear something Scottish", they said. "For next week is the Burns' Night Hash". And so we did. Despite rural Devon being at the other end of the country, a really splendid turnout of suitably attired Hashers helped to make the evening what it was......fantastic!

 

THE McDOWN-DOWNS

5 half-pints plus Bluebird's special prize:

Georgy McPorgy to Pork McPedo for brilliant attire - 'Hold it in your hand Mrs Murphy...'

McTeapot for (a) being back & (b) fantastic pipe playing. It really made the evening.

McSmellie, special award for squeezing into her £5 size 10 tartan dress....lovely but, being so tight, it took ages for Smellie to despatch her half pint.

Fallen McWoman for being on last week's AshHash trail, "But I wasn't the only one!"

The Hares, Cold McTits and Shit McFaced for organising, well, everything! Well done.

Finally, Able Semen set the seal on the evening by informing us that it was our Life President's birthday this very day. Glasses were raised for dear Pottsie.

 

IMPORTANT NOTICE - AMNESIA

Miscreants or amnesia. Two unpaid Haggis, Neaps & Tatties still outstanding at the end of the evening! If you were one of those that enjoyed the traditional Scottish fare, but forgot to pay, please liaise directly with the pub to settle your bill. Thankyou.

 

McDENDUM

After sampling the delights of haggis, neaps and tatties Mac-Pig, Pork McPedo and Blue McBird got into a conversation about the history of tartans. In a nutshell, tartans as we know them today are a recent concept; a concept based on commercialism, nostalgia and the creation of a past that never existed. Sure, tartan type weaves have been around since the dark ages but they were never particularly colourful and they were certainly not clan specific.

 

After the Battle of Culloden in 1742, the wearing of tartan by highland males was banned for the next 36 years. It was only after King George IV's visit to Edinburgh in 1822 that a the concept of promoting Scottish cultural identity, through tartan, gained traction. This was further supported by Queen Victoria.

However, the concept of clan specific tartans is only about 80 years old. Many thousands of highlanders were moved out of their homelands to make way for sheep in the early 18th century - a very dark time known as the Highland Clearances. Many of the displaced went to Canada, the USA and New Zealand.

The descendants of these early colonisers, seeking a reconnection with their ancestors, have been one of the primary drivers behind the commercialisation of tartans. Now, not only does each clan have its own (albeit modern-day) tartan, there are numerous tartans to choose from within each clan.

 

Typically, this comprises the Chief's tartan, a dress tartan and a hunting tartan - the latter usually being fairly drab. However, prior to clan tartans, but post Cullodon, many of the English controlled Highland military regiments adopted regimental specific tartans. Perhaps the most famous is that of the Black Watch which is green and dark blue.

 

Thank the pub. Thank the Hares.

 

POSTSCRIPT

Circumstances permit merely an abridged offering, but I would echo MP's sentiments and appraisal of the magical evening. It really seemed like a dream inside the Bell with the majestic - and most unexpected - entrance of Teapot, the lone piper escorting in the plattered haggis. Piping completed, Pork Torpedo, immaculately attired, recited the full eight verses of Rabbie Burns Address to a Haggis - complete with accompanying gestures! 

 

Lang may yer lum reek!

 

A Trail Too Far (2022) for me in my current condition but I was, unlike the Napoleon Solo MP, with fine company throughout. Big End encouraged and McBeefy on his caberathlon was Every Which Way But Loose (1978) - a remarkable effort indeed.

 

The McSweetie stop, manned by Cold McTits was possibly a McBird saver, enabling a partial recovery.

Going across the river bridge On Home, Beefy passed a group of the local lads who were quite bemused by the apparition. 'What's that?' cried one. 'It's a McCaber!' replied McBird. 'Ahhhhhh' was the impressed reply.

 

Finally, grateful thanks to our Grand Master and Coldtits for arranging, planning and organizing the epic, thank you from all hashers!

 

NEARLY FORGOT

An amusing episode occurred while we were changing, post trail up Mary Street. A Tesco van came down the hill and could not get through as cars were either side of the road. The driver got out and took a look. Forrest was correctly parked and the problem was the car on yellow lines opposite. Seeing Forrest, the driver came over to see if he could perhaps move. Unfortunately (for the driver) Forrest had his leg off and said 'If you can hang on a moment, I'll move my car when I put my leg on!'

To say the driver was taken aback was perhaps an understatement.

 

As Corporal Jones would have said: 'Hence the expression - he didn't have a leg to stand on!'

No? Well please yourselves then.

 

Next week

Confirmed as the Red Rock Brewery, Humber. Details to follow.