YELLOW HAMMER, SAUSAGES & GREBES. OH MY!

TVH3 The Words for 6th June 2022 - The Horseshoe Centre, Heathfield - Run No. 1920

HARES: Beefy and Pisswell

 

Who wuz there: Beefy, Pisswell, Shitfaced, Soapy, Melonpicker, Man-Pig, Forrest-Stump, Hotlips, Zoot, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Manopause, Wet-Johnny, Able Semen, Slip-on-Me, Coldtits, Piddler, Strap-On, Strap Dancer, Wetfart, Teapot, Bobbiball.

 

The Circle

We circled up in new territory - The Horseshoe Centre, Heathfield. This used to be a tiny village primary school and Forrest was delighted to tell us that he was one of their former alumni.

Shitfaced, having recovered from his excellent method acting of Captain Jack Sparrow, advised that the On-Down was The Star at Liverton. The food was sausage and chips at a heady £6.80 a head.

Man-Pig asked for a volunteer to do the Words. Piddler volunteered Smellie whilst Smellie was still tying up her shoelaces! 

 

Beefy introduced the trail. Marks were always on the right - except where they had been gone over by a lawnmower. Longs were about 5 miles. Longs and Shorts less!

 

The Trail - by S M Ellie

Arriving a bit flustered at the circle somewhere Newton Abbotish (?) I managed to inadvertently volunteer for the words while putting on my shoe. Damn! 

 

Announcements were made. Sorry, little recollection. I do, however, recall there being confusion about what’s medium? A balti and 175ml glass of Sauvignon Blanc. On a similar note, Beefy said there would be yellowhammers on the trail. Oh goody, I thought! 

 

Off we set into beautiful countryside. The FRB’s shot off! Given the current foot rehab status, I soon fell behind. Hey ho! That didn't last long. I was soon joined by Piddler, who was following up my rear [Shirley sic] and it was noted he had stopped moaning for the first time that evening. 

 

The trail was well marked and it was a lovely evening. Nobody to disturb my peace...

 

As the trail progressed, it seemed that the rather lovely Long's were rather short. Clocking only 3 miles, we passed the On Home marker. Damn again! 

 

As my rehab feet were faring ok, I wanted more. 

 

I had a cunning plan! Why not run the walkers trail? Well as it turns out... That was the plan. Anyhow. Funny that! All was well except somehow, we managed to do it backwards? 

 

Arriving in some woods, I heard mention of Yellowhammer. Yay! A Beer Stop! I was rather bemused by being told to listen. ‘It sounds like milk and bread’ Beefy exclaimed enthusiastically. No! Not Beer? It appeared the yellowhammer was of the feathered variety! Damn.

 

As we passed Georgie P, Piltdown. Soapy, Melon Picker, Zoot and Hot Lips and most of the Walking Crew, they all informed us: ‘You’re going the wrong way!’ Oh, the shame! Well, anyone foolish enough to follow me deserves it! 

 

Trekking along a stunning riverbank, I heard a voice from above in the trees. ‘Look Grebes!' How did Coldtitz do that? And what are Grebes? Sounds like an STD?!

 

Further along the river, there was a photo opportunity to be had. Pisswell joined us, making Piddler the thorn between the roses. (You’re welcome!) 

 

We continued backwards on trail to the On Home.

Joining Piltdown and Georgie P In the car, we made bets on the final score. We caught the results. Boris remains in da House. Politics over and time for a beer at the Star.

 

Talk at the table of the hash descending on a beer festival. One for Wet Jonny! Then the expensive sausage debacle. We were instructed to eat up to help out. Money in the pot. Threesome would have a turn! 

 

The Down Downs

Able Seaman awarded the hare the birthday hat for the stunning trail that was enjoyed by all.

Soapy ran out of options after her first choice had already gone home. Finding Beefy taken, she opted for Teapot though I don’t recall his misdemeanour. However, the down down receptacle nearly found an alternative use as a barf bucket. 

 

I am happy to report that Teapot recovered himself well. Piddler was awarded a 500 badge and almost a double down down for being distracted on the trail.

S. M.Ellie was called up to help. (As the Word mistress I can be economical with the truth!) I can also report 'beaten by a woman' was chanted! 

 

The final award, now known as the Checking chicken hat, Wet Fart awarded to Piltdown man for his navigation skills during the perilous journey from Teignmouth. He gallantly delivered Georgie, myself and Choca safely to the hash. 

 

So endeth the account, as much as I can recall. Many thanks to the Hare for a beautiful and memorable trail. A great time was had by all!

 S.M. Ellie

 

The Down-Downs - backup notes by MP

 Forrest-Stump presiding:

 

1st Down-Down: Able Semen gives the first award to Beefy for a lovely trail on virgin ground and with wonderful vistas and wildlife.

 

2nd Down-Down: Wetfart gives the Hashshit shirt to Teapot - can't remember why. Hopefully, Smellie will remember. (Oh no she didn't!)

 

3rd Down-Down: Beefy has the Horned hat to give away. I simply wasn't paying attention. I can't remember who had it. Amnesia has set in....or is it dementia?

 

4th Down-Down: There is a 500-run badge to award. This goes to Piddler. He didn't even want a whole half-pint so he wanted to share it with Smellie; something about Smellie's rear. Anyway, there was a spare beer so they ended up downing a half each.

 

5th Down-Down: Finally there was a half-pint of water. I can't remember who had it or for what. It may have been awarded to Beefy for a bit of a cock-up regarding the food. Apparently Beefy had advised the pub that they might expect to have up to 15 hashers wanting to eat. The pub had interpreted that as a confirmed order for 15 sausage and chips at £6.80/head! 

 

The upshot of all this was that Beefy initially paid for all the sausage and chips as we didn't want to risk alienating the pub and blacklisting TVH3 (this hasn't happened since the episode with Mavis and his exposed undercarriage at the Cleave at Lustleigh). 

 

The sausage and chips were brought out on trays in any event after the Down-Downs. Teapot partially explained what had happened and suggested that we simply put some money in the pot to contribute towards the food - which they did, generously. 

 

The shortfall should be made up from hash funds as it was a genuine misunderstanding. 

 

These things do happen to even the most experienced hashers as both MP and BB know only too well!

I forgot that one of the awards was to Piltdown Man for not reading the traffic report. There was an accident on the Teignmouth/Wear barton road which caused Piltdown, Georgie and Smellie almost to miss the Circle. I think Beefy made this award and it made to a chorus of, "Here's to the misguided one etc....."

 

Next week

The Ness car park, Shaldon with the On-Down at the Ferry Boat Inn. Hares are Well Hopped and Swinger.

 

It's time to say goodbye from SM Ellie and goodbye from MP.

 

ON ON to next week!

Monday 6th June map

Enter via the Heathfield Industrial Estate.
 

NUMBER 2 SO FONDLY REMEMBERED BY TEIGN VALLEY

TVH3 The Words for 30th May 2022 - Union Inn, Denbury - Number 2's Celebratory Hash appropriately laid by Poacher - Run No. 1919

 

HARES: Poacher with Soapy on rum stop duty

 

Who wuz there: Poacher, Soapy, Melonpicker, Palmolive, 'ello Vera, Wash 'n' Go, Capt Jack Sparrow, T-Humper, iPoo'd, Only Here for the Beer, Man-Pig, Arkangel, Cheerio Beerio, Hotlips, Zoot, Ernie, Beefy, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Well Hopped's minis x2 (I don't think they've been named yet), Manopause, Wet-Johnny, Erection, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Deep Semen, Ablesemen, Slip-on-Me, Strap-On, Strap Dancer, Wide Receiver, Wetfart, Teapo, Threesum, and Coldtits.

 

The Circle

On the day that we celebrated Number 2's life, it was perfectly apt that the hare should be Poacher and that the location be Denbury. We all have our memories of Number 2. Small in stature huge in character. The life and soul of many a hash party not to mention the extravaganzas hosted at her riding school in Luton - always on the Saturday nearest the midsummer solstice. Bizarre, bonkers, and always fun, fun, fun.

 

Poacher's introduction to the trail was brief. There was a sweetie stop, there were two Long/Short splits and, "The first check is over there!".

 

The Trail by Palmolive

Run no.1919 Pub Union Inn at Denbury, 30th May Hare Poacher. Rum stop by Soapy.

The theme was Caribbean as it was a run to celebrate and remember No.2 who had a great love of Barbados and all the sun, sea, and rum that goes with it!

 

An excuse for fancy dress and bright colour outfits to be worn along with a smile. Earlier in the day, I was at mum's - Soapy, along with her Grandchildren Allo'Vera and Wash'n' Go having fun working out what to wear digging through bags of grass skirts and flower garlands, such fun as every time you put on a grass skirt it makes your hips gyrate!!!

 

We met on the green outside the pub, whilst the locals were busy putting up bunting to celebrate the Queens Platinum Jubilee, good timing as it made it even more of a party feel as the yummy rum stop was on the green beautifully decorated by Soapy and little assistant Wash 'n' Go.

 

Hashers joined in dribs and drabs ready for 7.15pm all admiring each other's fun costumes and outfits. Plenty of flower garlands and grass skirts! 

 

Shit Faced, looking awesome as Jack Sparrow and taking his role very seriously with his bottle of rum in hand and staggering around! Horny and Pork Torpedo also coming as pirates of the Caribbean and with great effort and to most male hashers delight no shorts under her very short skirt!!!

 

Poacher had laid the trail, some downpours during the day making it a little tricky but by the evening we were blessed with sunshine. 

 

An explanation of what we were doing, longs and shorts, and hands up for sausage and chips for when the pub opened. Then we were off. Teapot having the right idea at the first check, sit on the bench, and wait for the front runners to find it!

 

Through the village, getting funny looks and even waves from the windows from the locals, I think they wondered where the party was! We admired the decorations as we ran through Denbury, nearly every house having Union Jack flags out, one even seemed to have the Queen visiting I saw her at the window!

 

County Lanes, full of pretty dainty flowers and little false trails to keep us on our toes! But generally heading on up towards the downs, 

 

I did all the shorts on the run mostly chatting all the way and having a giggle every time we came to a stile or gate as for some reason Horny was asked to go over it first!!?

 

The views from the downs were a sight to behold. Such a still, clear evening you could see for miles, we should be grateful for every day we have on this beautiful Earth filled with our friends and family.

We had a sweetie stop at the top to help regroup, the longs were nowhere to be seen but I managed to resist eating their fill of the sweets!

 

We passed them as we were coming back down off the Downs, where Allo' Vera kindly put a weed over the initial cross so they'd know the route - this might come back to haunt her!

 

Looking online, it shows a Stravastrava run, I'm guessing this was mostly 'Longs' either that or I was intoxicated from the rum aroma from Shit Faced - I forgot where I was?!?!?

 

Back at the Green, we were greeted by the glorious rum stop! Rum punch and the scrummy rum cake was just as nice on my tea break at work the next day!!! Thanks, Soapy for the spread and decorations, just brilliant. 

 

Once all back and circled up, Manpig got down-downs underway, with songs from the Songmaster Pork Torpedo. My favourite song being the famer who has Tourette's!!!

 

Wet Fart got one for not saying Hi to I think Able when he was seen looking rather dapper in Teignmouth.

 

Able had a Birthday Down Down, all the right notes in the wrong order!

 

Beefy got one for being a FRB.

 

Allo'Vera had her first down-down for being mistakenly heard by Hot Lips that she'd weed on one of the marks! She was trying to be helpful! Good on you girl, a swift half-pint of water was gone in a second.

 

Soapy had to down-down as she wasn't sure how much rum to put in the rum punch - A LOT PLEASE!!

 

Lots of laughs and more giggles and Manpig said a few words and we raised a glass to No.2. What a strong woman she was who made a mark on so many people and was a great character and brought life to the party, she will really be missed. A true hasher.

 

The pub had kindly opened just for us, so bundled inside as the temperature started to dip, to get a pint and a fill of sausage and chips.

 

A great evening and a great trail. Thanks Poacher. On On to next week,

Palmolive. x

 

The Down-Downs as described by MP

Thank the pub for the beer....and for opening especially for us on a Monday night.

 

Thank Poacher for laying a lovely trail.

 

1st Down-Down: Slip-on-Me awards the birthday cake hat to Ablesemen as it was her "21st" birthday yesterday - all the right notes, although not necessarily in the right order.

 

2nd Down-Down: Able Semen awards the horned hat to Wetfart for ignoring pretty young women when walking straight past Able, without acknowledging her, in Newton Abbot. A note from our Songmeister, Pork Torpedo, "Old McDonald had terrets..."

 

3rd Down-Down: Erection gives Jester's hat to Beefy for FRB'ing. Although it could have been for carrying a pineapple (a real one) all around the trail. Another song from the Songmeister.

 

4th Down-Down: a spare down-down and there was a story of weed and grass on trail. Drug taking on the hash? And by one of our youngest harriets? Shirley not! A glass of water for 'ello Vera accompanied by "The Grand Old Duke of York....."

 

5th Down-Down: a final down-down appropriately given to Soapy, but not for her splendid fare, rum cake, Able's birthday cake, and the rum punch. It was for the manner in which the rum punch was prepared:

 

"Man-Pig. How much punch shall I make? Shall I make it strong or weak?"

 

"Hmmmm. Don't know. Let's see how many hashers turn up and concoct accordingly".

 

"That's a good idea. I have two big jugs!"

 

"Yes. And so you do!"

 

Immediately the Songmeister comes up with, "She's a little flat chested but she's alright..."

It's goodbye from Palmolive and goodbye from Man-Pig.

 

Next week

Heathfield Industrial estate from The Greater Horseshoe School. Details and a What3Words location will be on the Facebook page. Hare is Beefy.

MONDAY 30 MAY MAP

 

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