THERE AIN'T NOTHIN' LIKE HOUND TOR - EVEN IN THE RAIN

 

by Pisswell and Man-Pig

The Words for 23rd May 2022 - Hound Tor Bluebell Run 

 

Run No. 1918

 

HARES: Pisswell (and maybe Erection?)

Who wuz there: Pisswell, Beefy, Shitfaced, Only Here for the Beer, Man-Pig, Ernie, Forrest-Stump, Rambo, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Manopause, Wet-Johnny, Strap-On, Wetfart, Teapot

 

The Circle

Pisswell explained that the trails were 2.5, 4.5, and 5.5 miles, or thereabouts. Beefy mentioned that the Long was better laid than the Short and to beware of clitter. It is very slippery and you can come a cropper! He wasn't kidding - even if you never know where it is, I'm damn sure it's not on Dartmoor. If so, this is where I've been going wrong for the last 40 odd years!

 

The Trail - by Pisswell

There ain’t nothin' quite like Hound tor

Even in the rain

There weren’t nothin' but 4 wet hares

And only those insane!

Well we ain’t never marked trails that way

So you ain't no hares of mine!

====================

Well, they said you were high-classed

Well, that was just a lie,

Whoever marked a trail that way

Was surely meant to die

They passed at the grave again

No friends of Jay's or mine.

==================

There ain’t nothin' wrong with a flour trail

So I tried to tie it in

I asked that when you got to Leighon

A challenge you could win

A single rose in your teeth

From the flowers, delivered fine.

======================

It ain’t nothin' losing Rambo

It’s just another day

The short trail full of bracken

Made me lose the way

I don’t know where I lost him

But we found him just in time.

====================

There ain’t nothin' but a big nose

Up at Bowerman

There ain’t nothin' but flour dust

To sneeze just like he can

There ain't nothin' like “clitter"-

It's such a pain to find!

================

Well they said it was lovely

Seeing all the flowers

Bluebells and azaleas

In between the showers

Rhododendrons don’t rhyme

And it ain’t no friend of mine.

====================

Well they said it was high-classed

Back at the Ruggle

Much talk of all the urine passed

18 in a snuggle

Rewarded Down downs to hares

Pisswell ain’t just a name of mine!

=======================

There ain’t no one quite like Rambo

For nearly getting lost

Down downs as well to Forrest

Where did his hat get tossed?

====================

Bobby ball got some singing

He’s a friend of yours and mine

From the hash, he was missing

But our sentiments he won't mind.

=======================

Well they said the hash was high-classed

So relaid it all next day

AH3 ran it In sunshine all the way

But I think we had much more fun

We had a great old time.

=================

Well, thank you very much - uh-huh-huh.

 

With many thanks to Elvis, Pisswell (AKA Erection), Beefy, Shitfaced, Only Here for the Beer, Man-Pig, Ernie, Forrest-Stump, Rambo, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Manopause, Wet-Johnny, Strap-On, Wetfart, Teapot.

 

The Down-Downs

Adjourn to the Rugglestone for the On-Down.

Thank the pub for the beer.

Hashshit shirt to Rambo - was this because he was last back or that he failed to put a rose between his teeth?

Hares for an excellent trail and Beefy's Dartmoor guide to the female anatomy - slippery when wet!

Lost property - Forrest had to award it to himself for losing his hat. Even though we all thought it was Wetfart's.

 

Epilogue

The guilt of last week still laid heavy on the Hash's shoulders. Hence, as promised, it was all the right notes - although not necessarily in the right order. This was for Bobbiball's birthday last week - even though he wasn't present this week. He had perked up a bit by Saturday though. Bobbi was at Two Mile Oak supporting Bluebird and the Maidencombe Out of Tunas. It's all in the name dear people. All in the name.

 

Next week

Union Inn, Denbury for a run to celebrate Number Two's life. Wear something bright, ideally with a Caribbean theme. We are promised at least one rum stop - what else would you expect? Our Hares for the evening are Poacher and Soapy.

 

It's time to say goodbye from Pisswell and goodbye from MP.

 

On-On to next week!

Monday 23 May map

 

"A TALE OF TWO CITIES" (or pubs?)

(Words by Charles Dickens and Jim Steinman)

TVH3 The Words for 16th May 2022 

 

The Bishop Lacy, Chudleigh (or was it?) Run No. 1917

 

HARES: Soapy and Melonpicker

 

Who wuz there: Melonpicker, Soapy, Shitfaced, Cheerio Beerio, Man-Pig, Archangel, Beefy, Pisswell, Ernie, Forrest-Stump, Coldtits, Rambo, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Manopause, Wet-Johnny, Bobbiball, Zoot, Hotlips, Slip-on-Me, Ablesemen, Wetfart, Swinger.

'It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. We had everything before us. We had nothing before us'. These Words, immortalised in Charles Dickens' A tail of Two Cities pretty much summed up the evening.

 

It had been a long, long time since Teign Valley had run from the Bishop Lacy. So long, in fact, that our illustrious GM confirmed that he'd never run from there. The senior citizens of the hash cast their minds back probably no more than 7 or 8 years. Back then, and indeed way before that, there was a time when Chudleigh was Hash Central.

 

Back then, TVH3 very rarely ran from the same pub more than twice a year. The two exceptions being the Bishop Lacy and the Teign House Inn run by Robin and Wendy and Captain Pugwash respectively. Both pubs have a long history of making the Hash so very welcome. And, with that in mind, the oldies were looking forward to a return to our roots and reminiscing about the Good Old Days.

 

Even in his absence, Bluebird still managed to trace the history of our last run from the Bishop Lacey; way back in 2018 - staggering.

 

It was fitting that our return to the Bishop Lacy should be organised by one of Teign Valley's most senior Hares, Melonpicker, on the cusp of his 70th birthday (or was Melonpicker just angling for free Down-Downs on two consecutive weeks?). We will never know. What a fantastic effort. I wonder how many more of us will Hare into our 70s; a brilliant inning by anyone's standards.

Enough of the nostalgia. What about the run?

 

The Circle

We circled up in Chudleigh's main car park. Shitfaced asked for any announcements. There were effectively none. Nonetheless, Rambo advised the Circle that the run diary was now full through to September. Well done all those volunteer Hares.

 

The Trail

Soapy gave a brief description of the trail, including approximate lengths and scant details of a secret sweetie stop. Then Melopicker ruined it all by querying the distances and then telling everyone where the sweeties were. And with that, we were off.

 

Left out of the car park, left again and through the roads and alleyways of a newish housing estate with checks aplenty. Along Greathill before turning right onto Oldway and heading southwest before another right and down a steep lane towards the sewage works.....lovely. Under the A38 before arriving at the first Long/Short split. The Shorts stayed on a footpath entering Chudleigh Wood and climbing steeply uphill. Over a stile and then downhill to the lower end of Parr's Lane.

 

The Longs, meanwhile, climbed over a steel gate and headed for the River Teign near Huxbear Bridge (an old railway bridge unused since the Beeching cuts in the mid-sixties).

 

Wet Johnny was way out in front. Pursuers comprised Ernie, Manopause, Man-Pig, Forrest Stump, Beefy, Pisswell, Swinger, Big End, and Well Hopped. The trail along the banks of the Teign was in an open field and re-entered woodland at Putshills. 

 

A little further along, we climbed another steel gate and continued along the Teign, but no marks. Beefy and Man-Pig continued all around a field almost up to Northwood Farm before realising that there was no one behind us.

 

Back to the gate over which we'd clambered not 5 minutes earlier - marks! We should never have crossed into the field. It had been a sharp U-turn and up to the top edge of Chudleigh Woods. We passed Smellie who is still constrained to walking on Doctor's orders. 

 

Soon we rejoined the Shorts' trail at the stile existing Chudleigh Woods; passing Able Semen and Slip-on-Me before hitting the end of Parr's Lane. Bobbiball was another backmarker but the Shorts and Longs (who hadn't had a jolly jaunt around an unmarked field) were within sight. At the top of Parr's Lane, we came to the sweetie top.

 

All too soon, we were dropping back into Chudleigh across a flyover and then the inevitable - a check. This had us going left along a footpath (now enclosed) before crossing Old Exeter Street where a Walkers/Long Short split offered a shortcut back to the car park. For the non-Walkers, it was down and across New Exeter Road and thence down past the cricket field to the bowling club at Old Kate Bridge and another check. This narrow lane was choc-a-bloc with cars. I never knew that bowling was so popular and the bowling green was packed with smiling retirees enjoying an early summer's evening. It all looked rather tranquil.

 

The check had been kicked out right along Kate Brook. The old footpath soon gave way to a new footpath-cum-cycle path before hitting tarmac at Towerhill and the final Long/Short split.

 

The Shorts had a straight run northwest back to the car park. The Longs went up Towerhill, towards Uggbrook House, for a short while before the trail took us right and along a track known as Garden Spot Lane. An arrow had us turning left through an iron kissing gate and then right through another. At this point, Wet-Johnny and Beefy were ahead of the Pig. But, in close pursuit were Big End, Ned, Well Hopped, and Swinger. This footpath ran at the lower edge of some woodland before crossing an open field, another two kissing gates, and re-entering Chudleigh near Rock Road. An absence of marks had Beefy and Wet-Johnny checking unsuccessful avenues. The Pig found the trail on Rock Road before turning right onto Parkway Road. I had expected the trail to take us up the ginnel next to the church but no. 

 

The trail followed Parkway Road up to its junction with Clifford Street where it joined up with the Shorts' trail. In no time at all, we were back at Chudleigh car park and looking forward to renewing our acquaintance with an old friend - The Bishop Lacy.

 

The Down-Downs

Once back in the car park it was a quick change of clothes for the 300 yards jaunt down to The Bishop Lacy where Robin and Wendy were opening up, especially for us. A special treat organised by the Hares. We were so looking forward to the piping hot sausages and chips that Robin and Wendy were putting on the bar for us hungry hashers. I could almost smell the sausages....ahhhhhhhh!

 

STOP RIGHT THERE!

Before you go any further, are you hungry? Will you be hungry forever?

Well, let me sleep on it. I'll give you the answer in the morning.

I gotta know right now. Are you hungry?

Yes....and thirsty!

Then a phone call. It was Arkangel.

"There is no room at the inn".

Hmmm, it's not Christmas Eve pondered the Pig.

Apparently, The Bishop Lacy, which does not usually open on a Monday, still wasn't open on a Monday. 

 

It eventually transpired that Wendy hadn't put Melonpicker's request in the pub diary. Poor Robin was Home Alone (1990) and had no staff to attend the bar as it is Robin who usually mans the kitchen.

C'est la vie. With that news, it was an about turn and a quick yomp back up to the car park via the Ship Inn. The 300-yard retreat was not without its incidents. The first involved an elderly pedestrian attempting to cross the road opposite a charity shop by means of the pedestrian crossing. An even more elderly gentleman was driving up the road at a sedate 15 mph. We could see that he was old by the way in which he was hunched over the wheel of his rather battered silver Peugeot estate. It all happened in slow motion - as these things always do. The car appeared to slow. The pedestrian stepped onto the crossing. Nothing happened. The car kept moving at 15 mph. The pedestrian was about to take his second step across the crossings. IMPACT! Well, not quite. A startled pedestrian leapt back just in time as the car continued its crawl across the crossing. Its driver completely oblivious to the near-death collision.

 

The second event was to check:

a) was the Ship open?

and

b) could they accommodate twenty-plus hungry and thirsty Hashers?

The answer was:

Yes. No. Yes.

Yes. Please come in.

No. I'm afraid that we don't do food.

Yes. We do do beer.

And with that we were Inn - so to speak.

 

This is the first time that I'd even been into the Ship. It is a good old-fashioned boozer. Simple and unpretentious. It has a pool table, a jukebox, and a TV. A real locals' pub. Indeed, half a dozen locals were watching a football match on the box with teams that I've never heard of, "New" and "Ars". The landlord made us very welcome as we huddled in a slightly elevated part of the bar next to those glued to the footie, or was that the Ars they were looking at?

 

Before long, it was halftime and our cue to move to the other end of the bar, to minimise disturbance to the football supporters, to do the Down-Downs. This week it was Forrest-Stump's turn to preside over the proceedings. 

 

Being our first time in the Ship, it would have been far too presumptuous to ask the landlord to sub the Down-Downs so I believe the Hare paid for them all. Bravo! 

 

Just as the Down-Downs were about to commence, Forrest decided that a quick rendition of Bobbiball, Bobbiball, etc was called for. Once that was out of the way, Forrest delivered the Down-Downs in reverse order.

 

First up were the Hares, Soapy and Melonpicker, intertwining arms. Here's to the Hares etc etc.

Second up it was Melonpicker again. This time for his birthday which is on Friday. All the right notes - not necessarily in the right order. I do hope that the second half hadn't started!

 

Third, in the order of proceedings were a couple of badges to assign; 200 runs for Beefy and 700 runs for Soapy. Down-Downs were dispatched to the sounds of "Hold it in your hand, Mrs . Murphy...." for Beefy and "Get a life, life, life" for Soapy.

 

Next, it was over to the awards. Forrest had the Jester's hat from the previous week but couldn't think of a story. However, Man-Pig had one or two to recount. The first story related to the near RTA at the pedestrian crossing earlier in the evening. Here it was revealed that the identity of the elderly pedestrian was none other than Man-Pig and that the doddery driver was Forrest Stump - obviously on a mission to commit porcuscide! However, the hat was not going straight back to Forrest. The Pig asked Hotlips to recount a conversation, earlier in the week between his PA and a senior member of the Hash.

 

The story recounted went something like this:

"I have some information that could make you a very rich woman".

"Now what would that be?"

The senior hasher proved details of this almost fool-proof, but not perhaps hasher-proof, plan of how to access free cash. The senior hasher then asked, "And what might I receive in return for this valuable information?"

"Anything you want for that amount!"

 

And so it transpired that the Jester's hat went to Cheerio Beerio to the tune of "Here's to a lady of easy virtue. She's a hasher through and through etc......." Well. Not quite. Cheerio will be sick if she drinks beer. With no WKD immediately to hand, Cheerio nominated Piddler to accept the Down-Down on her behalf. Despite the transgendering, the (Down-Down) Song Remained the same.

 

Next, it was Melonpicker's turn to tell a story. This involved the stand-off between a stubborn Ginger Tom and Slip-on-Me's dog....a lurcher I think. A Down-Down to Slip-on-Me and a note for the ginger pussy dogger.

 

Forrest was just about to wrap up proceedings by asking, "Where's next week's hash running from?" when Coldtits came forward. She had the Hashit shirt from the previous week. It was also the Old Hashshit shirt that had been in hiding for at least 6 months until Smellie had mysteriously found it in her bag (the culprit's still out there Smellie). I really cannot remember the misdemeanor for the life of me. However, the shirt went to Pisswell and I'm sure for good reason.

 

We concluded the evening with Soapy handing out cake to celebrate Melopicker's upcoming birthday. Regrettably, it was a bought cake so we were not treated to one of Soap's fantastic works of art. It always seems such a shame to cut into any of Soapy's cakes. There really has been a fantastic selection over the years!

 

Epilogue

Well, this wasn't quite the end of the evening; a rather sorry tale to tell. As Hashers were leaving the pub a rather dejected-looking Bobbiball scuffled past. He looked up forlornly, "It's my birthday tomorrow" and left. I am so sorry Bobby. I had no idea. Next week. Next week.

 

Next week

 

Hound Tor car park with Hare, Pisswell assisted by Beefy. The On-Down is The Rugglestone.

On-On to next week

A SPANISH INQUISITION AND OAP WALKABOUT (1971)

TVH3 The Words for 9th May 2022 - Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell - Run No. 1916

 

HARES: Shitfaced & Bluebird

 

A tiny figure could be discerned walking along the roadside verge of the South Devon Expressway. Zooming in from a motorway camera, more detail emerged. It was an elderly gentleman, smartly, if not rather bizarrely attired in white flannel trousers with a red windcheater and white baseball cap. He was carrying a shopping bag and was limping. To be continued..

 

Who wuz there: Shitfaced, Bluebird, Man-Pig, Archangel, Beefy, Ernie, Rambo, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Pollyfella, Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Melonpicker, Soapy, Strap-On, Strap dancer, Manopause, Wet-Johnny, Broadshit, Bobbiball, Zoot, Hotlips, Slip on Me, Able Semen.

 

The Circle

The Circle started with an inquisition! On arriving at the Circle, Man-Pig was under instant interrogation by Shitfaced:

"Where were you Man-Pig? I messaged you this morning at 7.10. The Hares are Shitfaced and FRIENDS.."

 

A bewildered Man-Pig reached for his pocket. Pulled out his phone and went to the Facebook Messenger app - no messages from Shitfaced.

Nevertheless, in the face of technological calamity, Bluebird was contacted successfully to do the needful.

 

Announcements - just the one as Bluebird unsuccessfully launched an appeal for Shantymen for an upcoming music festival from the Two Mile Oak - complete with a quick 'Haul Away' demonstration which probably convinced the suspicious little huddle not to get involved.

 

Over to Shitfaced, who merely advised that the Walkers was half the length of the Shorts and that the Longs was......err....longer. Additionally, a show of hands for food in the pub afterwards. About ten hashers raised their hands for chicken casserole and bread.

 

The Trail

The trail headed up Fluder Hill to the first junction where the Walkers and the Shorts bore right and down Southey Lane. The Walkers had a leisurely route down Southey Lane and turned right, straight across the A380 and then a jaunt around the playing fields before returning to the pub via Fore Street.

The Shorts, meanwhile, turned left up the A380 heading towards Torquay. This took them on the footbridge over the railway and top the concrete footpath onto Eginswell Lane. The trail then headed back to Kingskerswell viaWhilborough Road and Huxnor Road. Just before Huxnor Road changes name to Yon Street, an arrow had us turning left and down the new service road parallel to the Kingskerswell bypass.

 

At the end of the service road, we arrived at the second, and last, Long/Short split. The Shorts climbed the steep embankment up to the quarry car park and then turned right onto Maddacombe Road followed by another right and almost immediately left down Church End Road. A right onto the lower end of Yon street and finally left onto Rose Hill to rejoin the Walkers.

 

Meanwhile, the Longs continued their interminable climb up Fluder Hill. Just as the ascent levels off, we came to the first check. Wet-Johnny carried straight on, Beefy went left and Pollyfella checked right. Eventually an "On-On". it was Pollyfella. The trail took us right and down Kingskerswell Road to Riviera Way. 

 

An arrow directed us right and along the A380 towards Kingskerswell. Soon we were rejoining the Shorts at the footbridge over the railway line near the petrol station. At this stage, the pack comprised Pollyfella, Man-Pig, Wet-Johnny, Beefy, Ernie, Broadshit and Manopause. Along Eginswell Lane we caught up and overtook Rambo, Coldtits and Smellie. Then there was a long gap before we encountered Zoot, Hotlips, Horny, and Pork Torpedo.

 

There was a check at the junction of Whilborough Road and Edginswell Lane. Pollyfella checked left up Whilborough Lane whilst the Pg carried straight on. Only one dot but the Pig persevered and eventually got back on trail at the bottom of Huxnor Lane. At the second Long/Short split, the Longs turned away from Kingskerswell as the trail took us up Doctor Mac's Lane. 

 

Just before reaching North Whilborough, an arrow had us yomping up Common Lane and across Whilborough Common and Kerswell Downs. The dry weather had left this part of the trail stoney and uneven underfoot i.e. not very quick. The trail exited at the old Quarry next to Foredown Kennels where we rejoined the Shorts. For the second time on trail, we passed Rambo and Coldtits. Thence on to the On-Down and a pint of Naked lady!

 

'HIS HARE-RAISING TALE' (1951 Warner Bros. Looney Tunes short)

Loitering like a racecourse tout, the on-trail hare (Shitfaced had wisely adjourned immediately to the bar) was on the lookout for hashers wanting a 'short-cut'. Melon Picker politely demurred, as did Coldtits and S M Ellie before two likely lasses approached.

 

'Short-cut through to Kerswell Downs ladies?' enquired the tout. Able and Slip on Me hesitated but were hooked on the dubious enterprise. 'Are you sure we can get through?' asked Able, peering suspiciously down the embankment which seemed heavily overgrown. 'Of course! I've been through before with no problems and look, there are some other walkers down there!' replied the shady tout.

Their fate now sealed, the trio plus Muttley set off on the jolly jaunt. Whatamistakatomaka!

 

All went well for all of a hundred yards when the safari came upon the walkers sitting beside a stream that barred the way. The drop and span of the obstacle indicated impending disaster for those foolhardy enough to attempt the crossing and The Adventurers (1970) wisely hoisted the white flag and retreated to whence they had previously come. 

 

However, Henry Morton Stanley - in search of the lost short-cut - was made of sterner stuff and vowed to continue - come what may .... Sigh. 

 

The vegetation became ever denser and more exotic and a machete was Shirley needed now. Treacherous was the wetlands and desperate was the Flightless One. Further progress was now impossible and the Bird looked for the exit from A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). 

 

Carefully scaling the barbed wire fence adjacent to the carriageway and clambering over the metal crash rail, the Birdbrain triumphantly screeched to the gods on high: 'Salvation! I'm free at last!'

But there was a problem, a serious problem. Clearly, pedestrians should not be making their way along the verge. Warning lights from oncoming vehicles flashed and the ag-ed pensioner, still clutching his shopping bag, fled for the flyover bridge in the distance. 

 

An hour later, with hardly two miles on the Garmin, a dishevelled and badly shaken figure rejoined the trail just by Man-Pig's abode.

 

The apparition frantically waved at S M Ellie and Coldtits for assistance but was merely waved back at by the two shorts who thought nothing of the Bird's bizarre antics.

 

Wet Johnny and Pollyfella swept past, closely pursued by Beefy, but the Bird was too shattered to speak and grimly made his way to the bar for a much-needed encounter with a Naked Lady.

 

The Down-Downs

Once the scoff had been devoured, it was time for the Down-Downs - Justice Pig presiding.

First up was Smellie who had inadvertently taken the Hashshit shirt home with her three weeks previously. Although the shirt had been officially awarded to U-Bend, some cunning devil had sneaked it into Smellies's bag - unbeknown to Smellie. The Clouseau-like inquisition no.2 commenced with first U-Bend being named as a person of interest. This then progressed onto another suspect whose identity eludes me. 

 

Finally, the spotlight fell on Coldtits. Not for the first time, an investigation has been pursued by the victim on behalf of the guilty and resulting in the prosecution of the innocent. The guilty party is still out there planning his(or her) next diabolic deed.

 

Nonetheless, Coldtits came forward to despatch her half a pint of water to a song that I've never heard before delivered by our very own Songmeister, Pork Torpedo.

 

Coldtits duly delivered the Horned Hat to Able Semen for soliciting business en-route with co-solicitor Slip-on-Me. Before departing, Ernie had mentioned they had also been seen short-cutting - if only the hash had known what really happened out there.

 

Pork Torpedo revealed that it was Soapy and Melonpicker's 7th wedding anniversary this very day and they both had a DD to celebrate.

 

The Curse of Chucky (2013) and the badges continued as a 50th run badge was awarded to Strap-On but was immediately rescinded as he had taken possession six months ago - must be a 75th run badge then!

 

Finally, 200th run badges were correctly given out to both Zoot and Hotlips.

 

We thanked the pub for the beer and casserole and the night was done, except that the hares seemed to have been overlooked - or had I had too many Naked Ladies, Grand Master?

 

POSTSCRIPT

A Night to Remember (1958) indeedy. First came The Search (1948) for Man-Pig before trail laying and then yet another calamitous adventure in the Badlands (1973) below the South Devon Expressway. For a few moments there, I thought I was in trouble.

 

Someone told me in the pub (MP?) that the farmer who owned the marshy strip had invested in trees and other plants, probably to prevent A Passage to India (1984) and Kerswell Downs. I am still haunted by my anguished cries on the video I took en routey..

 

If I had been apprehended, I had carefully rehearsed my 'addled little old man' routine - which is getting more realistic as time goes on... sigh.

 

A relief to get out and see everyone, including Bobby who dropped by for his Naked Lady as well.

Time to say goodbye from Man-Pig and goodbye from me until the next time.

 

Next week

Chudleigh car park with Hares Melonpicker and Soapy. the On-Down is the Bishop Lacy which Robin and Wendy are opening especially for us. Bravo.

 

On-On to next week.

PERFECT TEN (2019)

 

Run No. 1915 TVH3 The Words for 2nd May 2022

Circle-up from South Brent Railway Station Car Park

 

HARE: Man-Pig

 

Who wuz there: Man-Pig, Beefy, Shitfaced, Ernie, Rambo, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie.

 

The Circle

The Circle was, erm, well - small. Only ten souls arrived at South Brent (Primrose Junction) station car park for the May Bank Holiday hash. Bank holidays are always quite iffy to call in respect of numbers. Some people are on holiday, others have visitors staying and some have "looking after the children" commitments. 

 

The weather also didn't help; Sunday and Monday were more damp than raining. Shitfaced also commented on the distance. Historically, South Brent has never been out of area for Teign Valley Hash. We have had several hashes from here in the past, usually hared by Poacher. Other regular "far away" venues have, in the past, included Dunsford, Halwell, Drewsteignton, Exeter, Mortonhampstead and Chagford. So, South Brent is not so far really. 

 

However, 10 is not the lowest TVH3 turnout recorded on a bank holiday. I do recall a McWot trail about 17 years ago, in Kingskerswell. It was the August bank holiday. We had eight!*

Shitfaced announced that there were no announcements and then waited another ten minutes to see if anyone else would turn up. By 7.30 ,it was over to the Hare.

 

Man-Pig confirmed that there was a Walkers', Shorts' and Longs'. Approximate distances: 1.5 miles, 4.5 miles and 5.5 miles. There would be quite a few back checks. Some blank faces suggested that I might have reverted back to my native gaelic in my final sentence. The Pig clarified what a back check was and everyone seemed happy enough.

 

The Trail

The trail was simple. In basic terms we were going up the River Avon on its southwest side and returning back along its northeast side.

 

The Walkers would follow the trail up to Penstave Copse. Here they could go off-trail and follow any of the paths within this piece of woodland which is managed by the Woodland Trust. They would, eventually, always come back to the marked trail as there are only two ways in and out of the copse. They would then backtrack on the outward trail back to the car park......Simples!

 

The Shorts would carry on up to Didworthy and then follow the public footpath back to South Brent via Lutton.

 

The Longs would do the Shorts plus a two Long/Short splits. The first L/S split was at Binnamore Cross and took the Longs on a half mile loop up around Badworthy before rejoining the Shorts opposite the junction for Didworthy. 

 

The second Long/Short split had the Longs on another loop. Instead of heading straight into Didworthy, they looped up to Shipley Bridge and then back into Didworthy via the public footpath.....but only after having encountered another back check.

 

The Walkers comprised Piltdown Man, George Porgey and Smellie. Smellie was still recovering from a bad cold and was also having treatment for a tight tendon in her foot. Hence no running for at least a month. 1.5 miles seemed too short and 4.5 miles too long given her foot injury. We agreed on a happy medium. "Wander around the woods until you've covered 2.5 miles and then walk back to the pub. The woods are very pretty this time of year". And that is what Smellie did.

 

The Shorts had Big End, Well Hopped and Ned running it all. At the more relaxed end of the athletic spectrum Rambo and Shitfaced walked the entire Shorts trail and weren't even late for the pub!

Only Beefy and Ernie committed to both of the Longs and they were quite close together. It was good to see Beefy back after a two week absence due to covid and my apologies to Ernie as I missed him off last week's Words.

 

The Down-Downs

Back in the pub everyone commented on how nice the run was. It is the time of year that the bluebells are out in force on the moor; especially in woodland. Frankly, you could hardly move for bluebells. It was a very picturesque trail with three viewpoints marked en route. It was a shame that the weather wasn't a bit better - the views would have been even more stunning.

 

The pub cum cafe had opened especially for us. The owner, Richard, is an ex South Hams hasher. He had got a pin (36 pints) of Dartmoor Jail Ale in especially for us as the cafe doesn't usually do draught ale. Additionally, he had put on a Hash menu for us. A choice of vegetable chilli with rice and tacos or mild chicken curry with rice and pappadoms for £6 a head. The chilli was lovely and I think the curry went down well too.

 

Because Richard had gone out of his way for us, everyone returned to the On Down and virtually everyone ordered food - even if it was only to have as a takeaway. Richard wasn't at all disappointed that we only had ten hashers present and he made us very welcome. 

 

In fact, the low turnout meant that we could all join in a single conversation without splintering into smaller groups. It was all rather convivial.

 

After devouring the scoff, it was on to the Down-Downs. I hadn't dared be cheeky enough to ask the pub to sub us the Down-Down drinks so we paid for four halves of Jail Ale but, to whom should they go?

 

Beefy had the only physical award; the Baby Bat Hat award from three weeks ago. The contenders were Georgy Porgy as Chocco had a poo less than fifty yards after leaving the car park.

 

However, there then ensued a story about a hasher referring to the marks as having been laid in dust and not flour! Man-Pig then elaborated that Ernie had been quite right. The price of flour has shot up to a punitive 90p a bag. The Scotsman in Man-Pig took over the driving seat, "I'm nay paying that!", in a Private Fraser accent. "I know. I can use the dust in the vase on the mantlepiece. Well, more urn than vase".

 

And so it was that poor Rusty's ashes were employed for the good of the hash. This must mean a note for the dustman but, as we all know, dustmen are members of the National Union of Refuse Disposal Engineers - NURDE for short. Hence a note for the Nurde as Urnie sorry, Ernie took his Down-Down.

Second up was Shitfaced. He had a story to recount (or should that be recant?). Anyway, it concerned the sheer gall of a hasher who had the balls to go into print on Facebook and tell the world that he had been sucked-off on the hash. Some clarification, please?

 

Shitfaced elaborated that the lucky blighter was our very own Man-Pig. "Wot? Me? I hardly ever use Facebook!". More elaboration. The story actually originated from a Facebook post by Man-Pig referring to tics that had attached themselves at last week's Hash. As the old saying goes, "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story".

 

Beefy then led the "Hold it in your hand Mrs Murphy" song for Man-Pig's down-down.

There were two drinks left. Were there any more stories? There were none so the final Down-Downs went to the Hare and to Smellie for being the last back to the pub.

 

Despite the numbers, I think everyone enjoyed the trail and the views. The pub was incredibly welcoming and would be delighted to have us back. We must think of setting another trail from here in the future. Our thanks to Richard, the owner/landlord, for making us so welcome.

 

ADDENDUM

The Bank Holiday hash was originally Thomas Cooked under the heading: BB's Birthday Trail, but events conspired against me and I was unable to discharge my duty. Apparently, whilst reporting my cancellation to the pack, Man-Pig seemed to have 'volunteered' himself and subsequently planned an extravaganza like no other.

 

Beefy nearly persuaded me to come along - if only to do the walkers' trail - but I could not risk leaving the house that evening.

 

You can only try to imagine my disappointment for the valiant Man-Pig when I saw how few had turned out. However, when I scanned Beefy's FB images, I realised what a great trail we had missed out on. And MP is spot on when he stated that a small turnout can be just as good fun - remember that post Christmas trail from the Kings Arms?

 

I am really pleased that next week's edition is from the Nellie and, perhaps, all fingers tightly crossed, I can partly repay Man-Pig's favour.

 

ON ON, BB

 

* The all time 'record' low turnout for a TV hash was also to McWot and Vera on a Bank Holiday Monday. Only one hasher appeared and McWot and Vera drove the hasher (the identity unknown) around part of the trail before adjourning to the pub.

 

Next week

Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell with Hare, Shitfaced (and friends!).

 

On-On to next week, MP