TVH3 The Words for 29th August 2022

Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell Run No. 1932

HARES: Shitfaced & Cheerio Beerio

 

Who wuz there: Shitfaced, Cheerio Beerio, Man-Pig, Arkangel, Bluebird, Hotlips, Zoot, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Slip-on-Me, Wetfart, Coldtits, Teapot, Melon-Picker, Soapy, Beefy, Pisswell, Ernie, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Poacher, Mouldy Dick, Rent Boy, Just Cumming, Rise 'n' Shine, Teararse, Mateus Rose, Flying Pig (Stupedo Torpedo), Manhole (from Mexico), Pulp Fiction and U Bend.

 

The Circle

Bank holidays can be a bit hit and miss regarding turnout. About 20 years ago, McWot set a trail on the August bank holiday which attracted a single hasher. Such was not the case on this evening as the number eventually swelled to 32. This included returnees Rent Boy, Mouldy Dick, Poacher, Flying Pig, and Just Cumming plus a visitor, Manhole, all the way from Mexico.

 

Shitfaced fibbed and said that there were a Walkers', Shorts', and Longs' trails of 3.5, 4.5, and 6.5 miles respectively. There were three Long/Short splits. The Walkers would have to follow the Shorts' trail until they came to a "W" - self-explanatory. There were more porkies regarding what you should do if you pass a pub i.e. go in and T-Humper will give you a drink.......hmmmmmmmmm!

 

Smellie needed hares for early October and Man-Pig gave a positive update on how Doris was getting on at Croft Lodge care home in Teignmouth.

 

Finally, Soapy gave details of next week's hash in Bovey Tracey. It would be a red dress run in memory of departed hashers with all collection proceedings going to the mental health charity - SHOUT.

 

The Trail

Cheerio Beerio had been seen out and about, with the kids, on Sunday lunchtime. She was carrying a water bottle full of flour. She was dutifully laying the Shorts' trail with the assistance/hindrance of Darcy and Evie. The Longs would have to wait till Monday to get laid.

Bluebird, Flying Pig, and Poacher led the charge down the footpath next to the pub and onto Newton Road. After 100 yards, we came to the first Long/Short split at the bottom of Coffinswell Lane. The Longs looped up Coffinswell Lane, along Bushmead Avenue, and then down Priory Avenue to rejoin the Shorts and Walkers on Newton Road.

 

The second Long/Short split took the Walkers and the Shorts along Cole's Lane whilst the Longs carried onto the Barn Owl and returned to the village via Aller Road and the Old Newton Road.

 

At the narrows, the trail bore right and up onto Maddacombe Road and the final Long/Short split at the car park for Kerswell Downs. The Longs embarked on the third and last loop; along Maddacombe Road, under the railway bridge, left at Maddacombe Cross and onto Bickley Road where we caught up with Poacher. No marks at the entrance to Whilborough Down so it was carry on along to Bickley Mill Inn. Here an arrow took us left and up Mill Lane and into North Whilborough.

 

A left and a right had us join up with the Shorts' trail which followed Whilborough Road to our first check on Moles Lane. It had already been kicked out - straight across and down Gourders Lane and then left along Edginswell Lane and back onto Yon Street.

 

At this point, we caught up with Joystick's son, Flying Pig, who appears to have changed his hash name to Speedo Torpedo. But where was the Bird? Still not in sight....the cheating FRB - but later denied by the recovering athlete who purported to have been on trail the entire evening.

 

A simple run down Yon Street and right at the first bridge and the "On home" up Rose Hill and along Fore Street and back to the pub. 5.36 of your English country miles recommended to be washed down with several pints of Yellow Hammer.

 

The Down-Downs

Thank the pub for the beer.

What did we think of the trail? Too flat. Too hilly. Too short. Too long. The usual really.

 

Smellie had the Hashshit shirt and two stories. The first was about a senior hasher who lured a young harriet off trail and into the woods - Arkangel and Just Cumming.

 

There was a second story. This one concerned Horny giving Pork Torpedo directions as to where to park his van. Now, Pork Torpedo's works van is very big and bright. The village is very small. Nevertheless, on finishing the trail,Horny couldn't remember to whence she'd directed Pork Torpedo. Cue a love ditty from Pork Torpedo on marital bliss!

 

Arkangel had a virtual award to give away. A story from about 3 weeks ago about woodland chicken which turned out to be a colloquialism for magic mushrooms. A down-down for Slip-on-Me accompanied by a highly inappropriate, "She's a little flat chested but all right".

 

Hot Lips had an actual award (Viking horned hat) from a fortnight ago. There unfurled a story about how he's having difficulty running due to knee problems. His new acquaintance from Mexico, Manhole, piped up. I know all about that. I have a fat friend who suffers from the same!". So there we have it. How to win friends and influence people. A down-down for Manhole for being a tad insensitive to her host!

 

One last half to award. In the absence of a hat to give away Man-Pig awarded Soapy a down-down for the premature announcement of his death!

 

POSTSCRIPT by BB

It is horses for courses when it comes to trails and Cheerio Beerio's offering proved ideal for me. The marks were clear and intuitive and for the longs, all on beloved tarmac. Conversely, it was anathema for dear old Poacher but he never complained, bless him. 

 

The absence of checks - one on the long and three reportedly on the short - was also right up my street. When I came upon the solitary check, I was most relieved to find that the shorts had kindly kicked it out and I was able to continue unhindered. My comment to the hares: 'Lovely jubbly!'

 

An amusing theatre in the hash-friendly Nellie occurred. I had asked for a pint of Yellowhammer and having supped half of it, requested a top-up half. The landlord frowned and said: 'I can't do it, you're drinking Legend!' His lady wife realized her mistaka and I had to defuse a possible argument between them (the landlord had heard me ask for a Yellowhammer and was berating her indoors) by coming clean. 'I thought it tasted a bit rich for Yellowhammer and what a wally for not noticing the colour difference!' One Pillock point awarded. 

 

Thanks, hares, a great evening and the icing on the cake was that the injury might be healing at last.

 

Beefy and Pisswell missed the circle but made the trail and pub.

 

Man-Pig was right to query why he hadn't overtaken the Bird, but the absence of checks and trail configuration were against him this time. I did not short-cut - as is my wont - and made the full trail, much to my surprise.

 

Next week

Lower car park Bovey Tracy with Hare, Soapy. This is a red dress run in aid of SHOUT and a memorial run for hashers who are no longer with us. the on-down is The Dolphin.

 

Thank you all, and goodbye from Man-Pig and the Bird.

TVH3 The Words for Monday 22nd August 2022

Forest Inn, Hexworthy - Run No. 1931

 

by Man-Pig and Pisswell

 

HARE: Pisswell

 

Who wuz there: Pisswell, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Arkangel, Forrest Stump, Cheerio Beerio, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Slip-on-Me, Wetfart, Melon-Picker, Soapy, Aloe Vera, Wash 'n' Go, Soapy's son, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Simba, Howzat!, Roger the Dodger, Beefy, Ernie, Strap-On, Pork Torpedo, Horny, Threesum, Ollie (pub only).

 

The Circle

 

A minute's silence for Rambo.

 

The Trail by Pisswell

 

Music to Rod Stewart’s “ We are sailing”. Thank you, Rod.

 

We are swimming, we are swimming,

Swimming Stops from the Forrest Inn

We are swimming in our cossies

With inflatables, we’ll jump in!

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

Last year Rambo got a croc bite

We’re so sad he has passed on

And we miss him, what a great man

But his spirit still lives on, on.

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

So we’re going on a croc hunt

Some of them are hard to see

Tasty sweeties laid for bait now In the rivers for you and me

They are circling, they are circling,

Longs the steep way up the hill

Last laugh on me, as they don’t see

My ha ha there, ( I need to chill)

Did you hear me, did you hear me?

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

Poor instructions so I took the van,

To guide you to the Swimming pools there

Catch the crocs there if you can

Choice of two paths, all go onwards

Past the bridge at Huccaby

Bit fat adult, we’ll save to last now

As we’ve plenty more to see

Some of Walkers down to Week ford

Crocodiles were hard to see

Hiding in the vegetation

Cut a path back to Huccaby.

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

Shorts went onwards, to a fork now

Choice of two swims near Dartmeet

Over bridge now and onto Woodpool

Just below where the rivers meet

Wrestling croc now, stealing sweets now

Having fun on inflatables In the murky stormy waters

Penis Soapys? Or Archangel?

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

I was chasing, couldn’t find them

Where’s the croc at the second Pool?

In the dark now, but someone beat me In mankini, Pork Torpedo

On the way back, there was Manpig.

Along with Beefy, they’d run the walk

They had got the missing croc now

That had hidden at Week ford.

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

Lots of people in the river

Hash disaster, day from hell

But surprising all seemed happy

All got wet or did Pisswell.

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

On to down down, on to down downs

Load of old crocs good to see

Happy faces, beers and chips now

Last of Pisswells trilogy

Last word to Rambo…..We got the crocs now!

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

 

I hope my crocodile trail would have been worthy of your approval. Thank you for your wonderful inspiration. My best-laid plans went astray but it’s all about the journey and the people. You were one of the best. On on Rambo xx

 

The Down-Downs

The first order of service was to raise a glass to Rambo's memory. Shitfaced had used the word "legend" to describe Rambo, his achievements and his commitment to the hash. Never has such a word seemed so appropriate.

 

Forrest Stump gave the Hash shit shirt to Smellie for "gate crashing".

 

No more physical awards present to dish out so Pork Torpedo came up with a story about inflatable buoyancy (sex) aid abuse. The perpetrator was Arkangel.

 

Another story. this time man-Pig was alleged to have forged his own trail having seen no marks. Pork Torpedo employed the gravity trick to elucidate if this was true. Inevitably, a down-down for Man-Pig.

 

The last half had to go to the Hare, Pisswell, for another lovely run and swim - plus the chance to bag your own croc!

 

Next week

The Lord Nelson, Kingskerswell hared by Shitfaced and Cheerio Beerio.

 

On-On to next week.

RAMBO - A TRIBUTE

by Bluebird and Wigwam

A tragic loss for not only Teign Valley, but also for the other hashes that Rambo supported and hashed with for so many years. It was a mark of the respect and love felt for this supreme hasher that Isca and Otter Hashes came for what was to be his last - and signature - Birthday Hash out at Ashcombe Cross on Run #1927 Monday 25th July.

 

His exploits, and indeed, extraordinary feats of endurance, are too numerous to list but we might like to recall a few, in tribute to a hasher who created such a lasting and positive impact on our Teign Valley Hash.

 

His participation in the Grizzly is known and recalled by all. Rambo delighted in his cherished Number 69 that he wore - sometimes emblazoned in paint upon his bare chest - when competing in the twenty-mile yearly epic.

 

For some, that achievement in itself would be the highlight of their running career, but not so for Rambo.

 

The Fellsman is a high-level traverse covering more than 60 miles over very hard rugged moorland. The event climbs over 11,000 feet in its path from Ingleton to Threshfield in the Yorkshire Dales.

 

Rambo email after completing the 2009 edition:

'I am thrilled to bits. Despite sleet hail & gales, I was 2hrs 23m quicker than last year 61 miles 12000' ascent. Slightly tired now no idea why. Crossed the high moor bogs in daylight when previously in dark which helped speed things along. Reduced to a stagger/jog after about 44 miles.
Feet swollen and a little tired. Hope to be back for hash'.

 

The North Face Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc in 2008 proved to be the pinnacle of Rambo's long and distinguished career. It was a 105-mile journey from Chamonix in the French Alps, through Italy and Switzerland, and back to finish in Chamonix. Rambo completed the course to finish 36 minutes inside the cut-off time of 46 hours.

 

'During this whole journey of discovery, I became convinced that it was beyond me and that I had finally met my match. The prospect of coming back to do it again was too much to imagine. My legs would get no younger and I could not imagine doing more training'.

 

However, return he did for the 2010 edition in atrocious conditions to finish once more. A classic quote from Rambo when an official was trying to warn competitors of the danger up ahead:

 

'An official stopped me, but I couldn't understand him. He then spoke in stunted English explaining that it was very wet, windy, and cold over the Pass ahead. I pointed to my name printed on my vest "Rambo" and said that I normally do not wear a shirt. He laughed'.

 

Rambo hated any road - a legacy of knee injuries over the years - and his first question to the hares would be: 'How much road?'

 

Off-road, it was another matter. The more arduous the climb, the more rugged the terrain, the more extreme the weather, and Rambo lived up to his namesake in spades.

 

MEMORIES by Wigwam

 

Stuart ‘RAMBO’ Bondi 23/07/1953 – 19/08/2022

 

There passes a life well lived. He was there at my first hash with TVH3 in 1989 and was there for nearly all of my 1300+ runs. He reintroduced me after 30 years to my childhood friend and neighbour Hilary Harmer, his wife and partner for so many years AKA Doris.

 

You would never pinch a chip from Rambo’s plate or interrupt his post-hash meal. Accept those constraints and you would find that he was an all-welcoming hasher not only with TVH3 but with ASH, South Hams, and Otter.

 

His talent with the camera would be quickly transformed into a slide show after many hashes. That would have taken your average person hours to do, but Rambo was not average.

 

His weekends would be spent running or orienteering over mountain trails such as Three peaks challenges and ultimately the three-day Mont Blanc Ultra Trail. Many people would be able to tell more of those exploits. 

 

Climbing with Doris was another passion and he would help others to climb indoor and outdoor training walls.

 

It was as a hasher with Teign Valley that I knew of his commitment, determination, and generosity of time and spirit. 

 

Always in shorts and with his tee-shirt tucked in the waistband whatever the temperature or weather. 

 

His favourite number 69 which he would try to elicit for any running event if possible.

His recent birthday was his 69th. 

 

He remains the most hashed TVH3 hasher along with Doris, both partaking in 40-plus runs most years. 

 

If Rambo was absent, he would be on another adventure with Doris or his good friend and running partner Gromit.

 

Never one to be sitting in front of a TV, he was always organizing and coordinating charitable events such as The South West Coastal Marathon and The Grizzly. Always outside of my scope, but enjoyed by many fitter colleagues.

 

He had fought back from health problems in the last few years and everyone was pleased to see him active again and once again taking a leading role in hash affairs.

 

However, having been so active and involved in everything, ultimately the stark realization to discover for the second time that it was not possible to live his life in that style again, must have proved too hard to accept.

 

He will be fondly remembered for his contribution to the South Devon hashing community.

 

MEMORIES by Bluebird

 

On my first ever trail lay, from Maidencombe, it was pouring with rain throughout, the trail was deep mud and impassable in places. 

 

I recall Rambo, bare-chested and dripping wet, climbing up a near vertical bank and covered from head to toe in liquid mud. I feared for my life but Rambo was loving every moment of it.

In the pub, that great FRB, Heidi, uttered the damning verdict: 'Too hard and too far' as I got a DD. I was most upset until Rambo whispered in my ear: 'That's a great compliment.' My first inkling of how hashing worked.

 

Rambo was my hero. When I first embarked on reporting for TVH, Rambo - an IT expert - would patiently talk me through setting up the PC and solving glitches. 

 

To get acknowledgement from Rambo was the supreme accolade.

 

FINAL THOUGHTS 

 

Teign Valley has suffered a monumental loss. Our close-knit family mourns for him and he leaves a gaping hole in our ranks.

 

It is both sad and curious that we can only praise him when he has gone. Knowing what we do now, would it not have been marvellous to have been able to put a hand on his shoulder to congratulate him on his achievements and the help and inspiration he had given to so many - and simply to whisper:

 

'We love you, Rambo.'

 

Monday 22nd August map

 

SAFETY CAR DEPLOYED

Run #1930 Monday 15th August from the Claycutters at Chudleigh Knighton

HARES: Zoot and Hotlips

 

Who wuz there: GM Shitfaced, Teapot, Piltown, Georgie, Check Mate, Smellie, Twisted Tart, Rise 'n' Shine, Mateus Rose, Pork Torpedo, Hornie, Cheerio Beerio, Wetfart, Strap-On, Strap Dancer, Piddler, Big End, Well Hopped, Roger the Dodger, Ned, Bluebird, Ernie, Soapy, Melon Picker, U Bend, Able Semen, Pisswell, Slip on Me, Zoot and Hotlips.

 

CIRCLE

We were greeted by the Grand Master, complete with crutches and flip-flops. A leg injury had rendered him hors de combat. In Rambo's temporary absence, Smellie has kindly volunteered the duty, stating that 12th September was vacant only for Soapy to snap the slot up, job done.

The roll call was twenty-nine but fam-ed FRB's were missing: Warm Front, Pollyfella, Beefy, and Man-pig who was still away, locked in the Scottish mists.

 

As I took up station to record the exito tuxedo of the pack, I managed to glean that the long trail was an out and backer of about five miles - possibly within my limited range.

 

Briefing concluded, the pack moved off - through the beer garden and not the main entrance, leaving the cameraman stranded and surplus to requirements - whatamistakatomaka!

 

TRAIL

I must have passed the kiddies adventure park many times before but tonight we didn't Carry On Regardless (1961) instead heading North to Alaska (1960) and en route to the Yoga and Alpaca Farm.

 

Spearheading the pack were Big End, Well Hopped, and Check Mate with Smellie (now apparently back in action) Pisswell, and Cheerio Beerio in close attendance.

 

Cunning was the trail and I did not know where we were - and I had just been there. Wing manning trailblazer Big End, I thought I heard the on-on and dutifully echoed the news back to the pack loitering at the check.

 

Piddler led the banzai charge and around a corner the pack stampeded only to be brought to a shuddering halt as Big End cancelled the operation. 'I didn't call on-on!'

Muttering and uttering veiled threats, the pack retreated from whence they had come. Whatamistakatomaka #2!

 

Across the highway, the scouts ventured, with Well Hopped taking command, and then all at once, yes, again dear souls, a mighty herd of red-eyed cows barred the way. Their horns were fearsome and they didn't look pleased to see the intruders in their grazing space.

The Bird strutted forward, calling the camel urging cry of 'Hut, hut, hut!' and a way was found through the madding beasts.

 

The marks were curious and though a clear 'W' presumably for the walkers was seen, the longs and shorts milled around in Ever Decreasing Circles (80s tv sitcom, most excellent).

Coming back on ourselves, virtually the whole hash came together: shorts, longs, and walkers - a nightmare for the FRB's but a triumph for the hares.

 

Enter the Hotlips (2022) to put down marks and then, safety car deployed, the pack formed an orderly queue and followed the hare to the escape gate a hundred or so yards away.

 

The starter's gun echoed and normal service was restored, destination the long/short split and make your minds up time.

 

Pork Torpedo was going great guns and the Bird egged [sic you fools] him on to go long but nay, ever so neigh [sic], the entreaty was rebuffed.

 

Few and far between were The Warriors (1979) who took up the out-and-back spur challenge.

Carve Her Name With Pride (1958) Well Hopped, Pisswell and Smellie put the men to shame as they coursed onwards, accompanied by Big End, Check Mate, and the Bird.

 

Smellie and Checkmate, possibly the Last of the Longs (2022) made a little detour to take in Bradley Ponds and a shot of scenery; the excursion making them a little late to check(mate) back into the on down.

 

The magical (for me anyway) five mile marker was passed and the run in towards the kiddies park was joyful indeed. 

 

Thank you hares and also my companions for the trail - Big End and Well Hopped.

 

DOWN-DOWNS

The Claycutters was still operating waiter service to the tables outside which would ultimately prove ruinous for one unfortunate hasher, but never mind, a balmy evening and a thirst Shirley built up by the deserving souls who completed the long.

 

RA's were thin on the ground, but good old Teapot was there to organize and the imposing Songmeister was in a wicked mood... sigh.

 

First up to the oche was Able, clutching the recently reinstated Horned Viking hat. After the usual foreplay, Mistress Hare Zoot was summoned. Her misdemeanour? Tripping over the doggie water bowl post trail. And down it in good style she Shirley did.

 

Infamy, infamy, der Songmeister Shirley had it in fer me...

 

Wielding the Prize Hashit shirt (as returned by Magnificent Mavis the week before) a heinous catalogue of crimes was related to the throng and the Bird strutted (as most birds do) up to take the prize. There were gasps of amazement and unbridled envy as the Bird stripped off to reveal a bronzed and well-muscled torso.

 

Proudly did he flex and cavort whilst der Songmeister, unblinking and with stony stare looked on. 'Put the beer down on the table.' Rasped the Authoritative/He who must be obeyed One. 'Step forward Hotlips!' A long sigh of resignation...

 

Any more stories? Wetfart had one. A harriet had mistaken him for Teapot?!?! The potential DD fizzled out when the culprit was identified as one Cheerio Beerio - NEXT!

 

Der Songmeister was on one and harangued the assembly about mistaking clean trainers for new trainers and then proceeded to drink from same but with the glass inserted into the shoe.

Two 100 Run Badges were awarded to Big End and Well Hopped and the fickle crowd came back to life, applauding the popular duo to a rendition of 'Why were they born so beautiful..'

 

Having missed out on his drink, the Bird ordered a half of Otter. Some time later, he asked where it was only to be informed that it had been sent out - What? As the Bird made urgent enquiries, Pork Torpedo looked on, sipping said half in his claw! Words fail me..

 

Apologies for the late posting but a combination of internet loss and dear old Mum's birthday today - as acknowledged by Buckingham Palace, proved cumbersome for the scribe.

 

NEXT WEEK

A Pisswell moor adventure from The Forest Inn at darkest Hexworthy with a chance for a dip.

 

ON ON to next week!

HEADLINE ACT: THE RETURN OF 'MAYHEM' MAVIS

Run #1929 Monday 8th August from Tucker's Malting Tap House, Newton Abbot

 

HARE: Arkangel

 

Who wuz there: Arkangel, Shitfaced, Man-Pig, Forrest Stump, Wide Receiver, Ellie - pub only, Tamsin, Andy (Park Inn), Cheerio Beerio, Zoot, Hotlips, Warm Front, Piltdown Man, Georgy Porgy, Smellie, Bobbiball, Dozy Parrot (non-runners), Coldtits, Ernie, Ablesemen, Bluebird, Melon-Picker, Soapy, Big End, Well Hopped, Ned, Edward - now Simba, Ellie - now Howzat!, Roger - now Roger the Dodger, Beefy, Pisswell, Fallen Woman, Zen Emptiness, Teapot, and a special guest returnee, Mavis, jetting in from Port Motueka, New Zealand.

And now, dispensing with the usual template so lovingly and precisely forwarded to the office boy by Man-Pig, I give you something very different and, you may agree, worth the wait - the words according to Mavis, translated loosely from Te Reo Māori:

 

The Pub Under Tuckers Maltings. Arch Angels run.

I arrived back after 3.5yrs of exploring the native in the South of the Hemisphere to the predicted and expected level of fanfare! Bunting was put out! Bugles played as I came towards the circle, the beautiful Harriettes swooned in my presence! 

 

It was wonderful to see Tea Pot! Although it took a moment to remind him of who I was, after repeating my name twice. 

 

It was awful and tragic to see Shit Faced had aged so much! Now needing a stick to walk with and a terrible, terrible limp!

 

The run set off, it’s just shocking and sad that due to Brexit, the price of flour has increased so considerably that barely any could be spared for the trail!! It was only due to one or two of the Harriets who have been around the town a bit who knew where to take me!

 

The trail was the usual 10miles or so which I, of course, returned from in such composure that even Prince Andrew agreed that he sweats more than me.

 

On in to the Pub where they had an amazing array of Beautifully [Māori sic} warm beers! I took it upon myself to start at one end of the bar and work my way to the other…

 

There were some down downs! Mine was taken appropriately upon the floor using the correct vessel. Sadly, Manpig, in his old age bless him, getting a little doddery, poured his pint down the back of my shorts!

 

There were some namings of some short people plus a record broken for the naming of a Hasher who managed to go unnamed for 15yrs!!! After the down downs, I continued my mission of completing the bar with a few of our most faithful and hardened men and woman.

Finally, the Bar staff threatened to call the Police if we didn’t leave… we took this as our cue to go home. The cycle home was pleasant and uneventful.

 

I woke the next day afresh at about 13.00, woken only from my slumber to spew up again. One of the villagers kindly dropped my father's bike home which was found in the lane not too far from the house. 

 

Later that day, I got a call from a very pleasant lady who had found my shorts and T-Shirt at Penn Inn roundabout! This is why it’s always advisable to have your name and number printed on the label on your clothes.

 

Overall a wonderful Hash and an absolutely perfect trail and on down to welcome my return home to my home hash! Thank you to everyone for such a warm welcome! I’ve run with a number of kennels now all over the world and Teignvalley, my original Hash, is still my favourite.

 

On on! Mavis x

 

ADDENDUM

A hard act to follow, but a few other snippets on a magnificent Mavis evening. 

 

Apart from the headline stealer, Forrest had to rescue his muttley who had performed a high dive into the canal in the closing stages of the trail and was unable to get back up the steep bank. In diving parlance: a failed high degree of difficulty.

 

My apologies tendered to Big End and Well Hopped for my antics - they probably realize that I don't get out very often.

 

Beefy had a scorching [sic] run, blazing round the trail and his usual extensions to make eight miles in an excellent time.

 

Missing out on the first long split and careering through the first check, (sorry, Big End) as well as taking various liberties, I was taken aback when Warm Front loomed large in the rear view mirror. Thank goodness Archangel put in the last L/S split here and I saluted and collapsed.

 

Superb and scenic trail and Coldtits (fantastic effort) and I managed to squeeze five miles from the trail menu. 

 

Well worthwhile your efforts laying it on a savagely hot afternoon, Archangel. I tip my hat to you sir.

 

The pub was special, a great atmosphere and good to see Wide Receiver and Ellie who both dropped by for a drink.

 

Well done Mavis on surviving the evening!

 

THE DOWN-DOWNS

We thanked the pub for the beer.

 

Man-Pig gave the (returned) Hash shit shirt to Forrest Stump for trying to force Warmfront and her bicycle off the road. Par for the course we thought.

 

Arkangel presented the Viking horned hat to Able Semen for buying Shitfaced a drink without any money. A harriet through and through.

 

Bluebird (under forceful direction from the RA) naturally awarded the Teapot special hat to Mayhem Mavis who proceeded with his speciality at ground level. To this day, no one else has ever managed to achieve the Mavis manouevre .

 

The short people were next up and Big End's daughter, Ellie, was, after due deliberation and input, named Howzat due to her love of sport, especially cricket.

 

Well Hopped son named Simba after the Lions on the England football strip. Two fine hash handles indeed, well done to the panel of adjudicators.

 

Dad, Roger (Well Hopped), has been coming hashing on and off for 15 years but had dodged being named but tonight the hash finally caught up with him - henceforth, Roger the Dodger!

 

NEXT WEEK

The Claycutters, Chudleigh Knighton with Hares Zoot and Hotlips. Please try not to use the pub car park as it will be jolly busy!

 

On-On to next week.