Saturday, 1 December 2012

Words Dec 12 (Can Anyone email me the doc rather than image)

C:\Users\Jill\AppData\Local\Temp\Devon A2B December 2012 page 1.jpg

Saturday, 3 November 2012

Run 66 3rd November 2012 Tiverton Sorepoint and Paperwork

Words for A2B The Trout Inn, Tiverton 3/11/12
When Cousteau and I first got to the car park, there weren’t even any hares! Slightly alarming at ten past twelve. However soon Paraprick and Larks arrived, followed by the hares and Bell Toll. Faced with a ratio of runners to hares of 4 to 2, we decided to wait for the hashers held up in traffic. A pack of ten set off at around 1.15 with Cousteau vanishing out of sight up a hill.
It was one dot and on, but a decent rainstorm had washed out nearly half the marks, making it tricky at junctions to know whether there once was a check or not.
I plodded on along some good rutted boggy tracks, overtaken by Manpig and paperwork before an argument ensued about a backwards fishhook (Manpig claimed to have thought he’d found the on home fishhook and unsuccessfully tried to refuse to do it.)
Technically, I was the second to arrive at the fishhook as Cousteau had evidently invented a check and gone loping off up a hill, only to re-emerge along the track behind us, though he had been way out in front. Manpig and I dutifully returned to the hare (nice to have a small pack!). Paperwork allowed Cousteau and I to check up a monster hill before laying the arrow down to the basin of the valley.
We ran along into a hamlet and a Long/Short split. I thought we were about due a beer stop and chose to do the shorts with Sorepoint, Zombie and Archangel – and cheerfully watched in the distance the longs trudging up the worst hill imaginable- muddy, slippery, on a camber, very long, very steep!!
Wonderful beer stop in the valley bowl before setting off (Kura being unceremoniously shoved into the car with a “have your bloody dog back” by Paraprick) up some more hills. I was
making good headway up a particularly steep one as the support cars drove past and heard a rustling….turned to see a grinning Cousteau sprint past. AGAIN, Paperwork let us get well and truly out of sight- it was only when we clocked no one was following did we turn back, and find him giggling in a hedge, and everybody else somewhere in the dripping woods. Cheers.
Thoughts such as “It must end soon” “how high can this hill be?” were my only companions until we reached a farm and its bemused farmer, who’d witnessed a bloke run one way then the other, then back to kick out a check, then off again…..We’d caught up with Cousteau :O)
We carried on through cow fields (the sort that look like baby Jerseys but actually are vicious beasts that regularly eat people) and wiping the sweat and rain from our eyes, stared gormlessly at the next incline that seemed to disappear into the dark clouds. With no choice we start to climb. And climb. And climb. It’s like running up an escalator the wrong way.
Sure that my chest was about to explode, I slowed to walk, only to find my gait rather like John Wayne- my calves were seizing up from the arduous ascents and jarring downhills. Luckily, It was only another mile or so to the next beer stop, but I was increasingly sure Id missed a check somewhere as I was on my own for a good while, and then suddenly there was a mass of colour on the horizon- id somehow missed the trail, and been overtaken. Relieved, everybody stuffed down enough sausage rolls and fruit pastilles to feed a pack twice the size, then set off again into country lanes. This time Man Pig went haring off into the distance and had to play catch up as the rest of us hit the fields- we were high enough to come across radio masts at this point.
More tumbling down rocky, wet leaved paths and onto a road with ON HOME boldly proclaimed – I had ParaPricks good company for the last leg into the Rose and Crown.
Everbody got changed apart from me (having not particularly thought ahead) and on in to the warm. Down downs were awarded thus:
Me (Lilo Lil) for skipping during the hash and texting on the hash, and a facebook photo.
Paraprick for sucking off Sorepoint “it doesn’t wanna come out does it!” was heard, and “its hard AND soft here”
Paperwork- for starting an in depth discussion on Fisting….deer that is.
Manpig – for tracking Costeaus footprints in the mud
Costeau- for failing to kick out checks while 4.3 miles ahead.
Archangel – for vicious washing of the dog :O))

NOTICE: on the 14th December Hotlips and Zoot are playing music and various hashers are brewing beer for the Beer and Jazz day! Raising money for Rowcroft Hospice. St Marys carpark, in Kingskerswell . See Archangel for details :O)

ON ON!! Lilo x

Saturday, 6 October 2012

Run 65 6th October Hares Cowpat, Meavy & HT2

Words from the A2B hash Saturday 6th October Hares Cowpat, Meavy & HT2
We gathered in the October? sunshine at Point A; the car park at Aveton Gifford. As an A2B virgin, I felt slightly nervous at the sight of what looked like proper athletes but I needn’t have worried – it was just like a regular hash in the end with the usual mix of FRBs, joggers, trotters and occasionally even a small knitting circle...
Sorepoint managed to do a very good impersonation of SH3’s Piddler and went around haranguing people for their money – already I was feeling quite at home and tried not to think of the 8 miles that lay in front of me..
Man Pig called us to order and made the motley South Hams crew stand in the middle and announce ourselves. We were The Jerk, Low-t-arse, Topshelf, Pinkie, Gomez & Morticia, Jyde, and me, Hekkel.
Congratulations were issued to all Autumn Trailers and HIV gave himself a cheer, largely, I think, because he is from Plympton and for no other reason...
The warm sunshine appeared to have affected Man-Pig’s libido and he felt the need to share this with us by illustrating with a diagram in flour on the ground of something limp and floppy. He tried to cover this up by calling it a fish-hook but no-one fell for it... 2 long-short splits and 3 beer stops were announced; Low-t-arse and I agreed that we don’t like eating and drinking mid-run as it upsets our constitutions so to speak. However by the 3rd beer stop I couldn’t speak – not because I was exhausted, but because my mouth was full of peanuts, crisps, chocolate éclairs and liqueur chocolates – those last being a bit of a surprise, particularly to those of us who thought they were chocolate covered brazil nuts...
Not far from the start of the hash Meavy helped The Jerk remove a long bramble from his clothing. It wasn't the first time she'd got lengthy prick(le) in her hand and pulled it off gently...(I’d like to point out that I didn’t write that; I am simply repeating what I was told)... Low-t-arse displayed her inner tart with a revealing off-the-shoulder look to her t-shirt - apparently she doesn’t like high necklines so decided to cut it off, and with hindsight went a bit too far with the scissors. Shat Nav displayed an unerring sense of direction (and presumably the reason for his hash name) running along the Aune Valley and wondering aloud if we were in Loddiswell yet. I scoffed and snorted with derision along with the rest of the hash, privately hoping that no-one would test me on my geography about which I am clueless (and about most other stuff too...). Mind you, quite a few of us had
navigation issues: at the end of the tidal road the shorts, like a gently bleating flock of sheep, followed Topshelf onto what turned out to be the long, thereby adding about a mile to their trail. On finding we had gone the wrong way in one direction, we then went the wrong way in the other direction. It was only when we heard from a distance the faint (and possibly mildly frustrated) voice of Cowpat - calling “You’ve gone the wrong way!” that we eventually doubled back to the tidal road and on to the short proper. Or long, which technically we had done. I don’t mind, you choose. I did see Twiggy and Shortie arriving at the first beer stop from a different direction to us, so presumably they had made an unintentional detour too. Big Foot got lost, as did Para-Prick and his dog, causing Lark’s Vomit and HT2 to miss the down downs.
It really was a wonderful trail, with simply stunning views, and the requisite amount of shiggy through which I minced very girlishly much to the disdain of HIV. Well, having thoroughly cleaned my trainers (socks, and indeed feet), thanks to the tide not being quite out on the tidal road at the start of the hash, I didn’t want to get them all mucky again. Jyde found that his high-tech ultra-waterproof Gortex trainers were so waterproof that they wouldn’t empty after wading through knee-high water and he slopped and sloshed his way round the rest of the trail..
As we wove our way around the coast and countryside we caused much amusement for the folks of Bigbury golf course, (what? me shortcutting? Never!), Ringmore, Challaborough, and eventually point B, which turned out very happily to be The Pilchard Inn and not, as I feared, a further 2 or 3 miles away at the Royal Oak in Bigbury village.
Thanks must go to beer-master and general taxi driver Troughie for looking after us so well, and of course the hares for a wonderful trail, the views, and the amazing weather. Birthday greetings went to Zombie and down downs to:
The Hares (apart from poor HT2 who was still out looking for lost hashers and their dogs)
Low-t-arse for being a tart,
Man-Pig possibly for being droopy, and also for trying to use the kissing gates literally...
HIV for being from Plympton
OnOn, Hekkel

Sunday, 1 July 2012

Run 62 7th July 2012 North Bovey Big Foot Shortie and Rise 'n' Shine

July A2B from North Bovey.

Hares:- Bigfoot, Shortie and Rise’nshine

Weather wet again!

We arrived in the rain next to the sodden village green under the dripping trees and waited the arrival of Tearasse who had indicated she was on her way. Sorry tale from the hares. Bigfoot had laid the trail the day before suffering from the dreaded tummybug and Shortie was suffering from the same illness that morning - thank heaven for Rise’nshine who was a picture of health.

At the on-on, we scattered in all directions around the village, some of us further than others. Meavy Maid, excited to be let loose, disappeared down a lane and was not seen again for twenty minutes! We crossed several fields and ran up bridlepaths to reach Mortonhampstead round some back lanes to Cranbrook Cottage for the first beer stop where we waited in the rain(again) for Oddbitz and Fruitybitz and Shortie to catch us up. Manpig offered to take Larksvomit’s dog to give her a bit of a run, which greatly increased his speed for the next section. Across Butterdon Down, up the hill and into the woods where we enjoyed the wonderful views with glimpses of Castle Drogo through the trees. At Fingle Bridge we enjoyed the spectacle of the British Gas dualathon. That is:-lots of teams of muddy people cycling and running through the river and woods- can’t understand it, they must be mad! We cheered them on in true hash fashion. There was a long session following the river next. Lots of shiggy and the occasional leap to one side to let the proper runners through. Then we came out of the woods across Piddledown Common to Dogmarsh Bridge for the next beer stop. We crossed the road next into a public footpath which eventually led to Chagford and the Bullers Arms.

Despite some scullduggery from the previous management of the pub who had allegedly absconded with the takings, the young lady behind the bar made us very welcome and supplied us with whatever ales they had left. We were joined for the down-downs by Squashed Balls and Twin Buffers, Melon Picker, Soapy and her grandchildren.

Down-downs were awarded to;-The Hares: Bigfoot & Rise’nshine (Shorty excused herself and ran off to vomit in the loo)

Woggle & Hairy Mollusc who stopped for a wee on the run.

Bigfoot for not giving a shit about people getting lost.

Fruitybitz for trying to take a photo with the lens cap on and organising a wedding on the hash.

Happy Shopper for not seeing Castle Drogo at the viewpoint.

Manpig for ‘dogging’, mumbling and wingeing.

Thatscrap for interruptions and advertising.

Archangel RSPCD- threw his dog in the river.


Hash awards

Manpig announced the results of the vote for the hash awards:

Scribe of the year was Plastic Pig (for Mavis & Peanut’s hash)

Pub of the year was the Lord Nelson at Kingskerswell

Trail of the year was Bigfoot, Shortie & Rise’n’shine for 50th hash.

Hasher of the year was Shatnav.

Pillock of the year was That’s Crap.

Saturday, 5 May 2012

Run 60 5th May 2012 Shaldon Lark Paraprick and VW


POINT A:              The Ness Car Park, Shaldon

POINT B:              The Ness Car Park, Shaldon

HARES:                 Larksvomit, Paraprick & VW Passat

BEERMEISTER:   Zombie (who couldn’t run as she was limping badly after twisting her ankle at Tuesday’s Ashburton Run)

ATTENDEES:       15+ comprising: Shatnav, Zombie, Man-Pig, Mike (what’s his hash name?), Comes Tonight, Twice Nightly, That’s Crap, She’s Ready, Come Back, Hairy Mollusc, E-J, Cousteau, Rise ‘n’ Shine, P-Nut, Menage-a-Trois (& at least one other but I’m blessed if I can remember who!).


The wettest April on record had obviously put a downer on attendees at May’s A2B which, historically, had been run in pretty good weather. Circa 16 hashers gathered at the Ness car park for the run with a particularly good turnout from Plympton Hash & VAG (Volkswagon Audi Group). Many of which were camping at Cofton Farm near Cockwood & had arrived at Point A by train (& without paying & thereby defrauding First Great Western of wajid falous!). Good effort lads & lassies!

A sign of things to come commenced in the circle when the GM forgot to nominate anyone to do the Words & so ended up having to do them himself. There was one A2B virgin who, I think was Come Tonight from Haldon Hash. Menage-a-Trois was nominated RA for the day & Larksvomit commenced by offering a plethora of excuses as why there was no trail & why he had to send Paraprick out to relay it earlier that morning. Original marks, if they existed, would be in white chalk. Re-laid marks would be in flour or pink chalk. Larks explained that he would be haring by that’s a first for the A2B. This left some wondering if the entire trail would be on-road. He then stated that there was an immediate Long-Short split from the car park & babbled something about £3. Now some of those gathered thought that everyone would need £3 en-route. Others interpreted it as only the Shorts requiring £3. The Longs were then pointed in the direction of Shaldon and some went running towards the Ness pub whilst others ran back to their cars to get £3. The Shorts remained motionless. Naturally this had the effect of splitting up the pack from the outset.

The initial Long-Short split was pretty much defined by gender. The Longs comprised an all male affair whilst I think the only male representatives on the shorts was Ménage-a-Trois (watch him girls – he’s a real fanny magnet!) & Mike.

That’s Crap lead the Longs up the Ness and past the viewpoint. This was the last we saw of That’s Crap for another 21/2 hours! That’s Crap maintained that the trail ran north along the eastern edge of the golf course & off he went. The slower Longs followed the trail only upto the edge of the golf course and then looped back towards  the entrance to the Ness car park. Here the tail went cold. Did we join the Shorts who must have taken the passenger ferry across to Shaldon’s Back Beach or did the trail lead elsewhere? That’s Crap was nowhere to be seen. E-J, Hairy Mollusc & Shat-Nav (amazingly still on-trail at this stage) were checking the periphery of the car park for the trail that would eventually take them onto Shaldon Bridge, Cousteau wondered whether we may be required to spend the afternoon doing a continuous loop round the Ness & Man-Pig was convinced that the trail would have been laid through Smuggler’s  Tunnel & onto the beach. It seemed that everyone was wrong...including the hare who had laid the trail up the (private?!) steps to the right of the flats overlooking the car park. Front runners were barred from pursuing the trail as laid by angry residents. The FRB’s then had to skirt around the flats in the hope of picking up the trail somewhere on the main Torquay – Teignmouth road. Man-Pig failed to find any sign of a trail in the tunnel. On returning to the car park he failed to find any sign of the hash either! He’d only been in the tunnel 60 seconds. He then did his own thing & decided to follow the Shorts via the ferry.

Whilst the Longs were wasting a lot of time going in ever decreasing circles around the Ness, the Shorts were enjoying a life on the ocean wave. Their trail, confusingly, did not require £3. Rather it only required £1.50 for the ferryman & his dog, Cereberus, to take them to the other side. So they wondered, what was the other £1.50 for? P-Nut commented that the change would come in handy as contraceptives form the ladies toilet on the seafront were exactly £1.50 for a packet of one (unflavoured). On arrival at Back Beach the harriets put their spare £1.50 to good use and did some shopping & indulged in an ice cream, safe in the knowledge that crafty Larks had cunningly engineered a good gap between the Longs & the Shorts. This respite from the frenetic pace that typifies the A2B was put to good use. The harriets settled down to a picnic on the beach whilst Ménage-a-Trois seized the opportunity to stow away on a ship bound for the antipodes. There he started a successful sheep farming business, got married, raised three children and still returned to Teignmouth in good time to beat the Longs to the first regroup.

From Back Beach the trail was somewhat feint. Any marks that had been lain in flour had blown away and white chalk marks were sometimes on the top or sides of walls.  However, aided by Paraprick, the Shorts soon found themselves on the seafront running northeast with a brisk, but nevertheless tanning, onshore breeze with jus a hint of rain. Paraprick laid some new marks on the promenade and kept the Shorts  together as the trail ran for a mile along the top of the sea wall that protects the railway line [Boring fact of the day: the track between Dawlish & Teignmouth is the most expensive to maintain across the whole of the UK’s rail network]. The trail went as far along the sea wall as it was possible to go before the track entered the first of three tunnels between Teignmouth & Dawlish. Here there was  only one way to go....unless we were swimming for part of the trail..... and sure enough the marks lead through the underpass below the track. This took us to an impromptu regroup (but no beer) at the bottom of Smugglers’ Lane. After a 15 minute wait, & no sign of the Longs, She’s Ready lead the Shorts to a check at the top of Smuggler’s Lane.

Meanwhile Larks used his vantage point at the entrance to the rail tunnel to look back at an uninterrupted ¾ mile view of the footpath that sat on top of the sea sign of the Longs.....oops! Eventually Man-Pig came into sight. “Am I last?” he queried. “No. You are a pillock” replied Larks. “You’re way behind the Shorts & you’ve lost the Longs”. “Ah well” said man-Pig, “That’s probably because I’m on the Medium trail”. “Double pillock. There is no Medium trail”. Then we spied Cousteau sprinting along. Quite a way behind him came EJ & Hairy Mollusc; all reaching us some 5 or 6 minutes after we first sighted them. We looked back expecting to see the others but absolutely no sign of That’s Crap, Come Back or Shatnav. We waited another 5 minutes but still no-one in sight so Larks instructed us to attempt to catch up with the Shorts who, by this time, were at least half-an-hour ahead of us.

Sensibly, the Shorts had not kicked out any of the checks. This allowed the “found” Longs to “check it out” at each check.  From the check at the junction of Smuggler’s Lane & the Teignmouth-Dawlish main road the trail headed north, bypassing a return to the South West Coast path. After a short while, another check took us left into Holcombe towards the Castle Inn. The “found” Longs now comprised Cousteau, Man-Pig, Hairy-Mollusc & EJ & we’d been running for 1 hr & 10 minutes without a beerstop. Then The Castle Inn came into view. “Beestop” we all thought, but no, just another check.  We followed marks first right & then left through a housing estate & past one house with 3 Series 2 Landrovers parked outside (or was that 2 Series 3’s?). At this point Larks & VAG cruised past but offered no guidance as to how long to the beerstop. The trail then went down a short fenced alleyway exiting into fields and a public footpath at the western edge of Holcombe. This was an area Man-Pig recognised from previous Teign Valley runs from the Smugglers. After a couple of fields we came to a crossroads. EJ checked ahead towards Holcombe Down, Cousteau & Man-Pig went left towards Higher Holcombe Farm and Hairy-Mollusc checked right towards Westbrook. Man-Pig & Cousteau checked left because they thought that Point B might be in Newton Abbot and the remaining £1.50 required for the train journey back to Teignmouth. EJ called “On-On” on seeing one dot. This was a correct call as Larksvomit’s guidance in the Circle was “One & On”. However, we all found ourselves back at the Crossroads at the same time as EJ had subsequently found a cross just past the first mark. We rechecked and eventually found ourselves on a nice winding track leading down to Westbrook before joining a lane leading to Holcombe Farm. At the junction of the track and lane there was a huge arrow in flour pointing us up the hill...this had clearly just been laid and, just as clearly, laid from a car!

Cousteau led the way, up one side of Aller Hill and down the other, past a check at the crest. We then ran through a ford and under a very nice, ornate stone arch to arrive at the first beer stop. This was the first time we’d seen the Shorts since the start of the run some 11/2 hours earlier! And the pack was still split with the ”lost” Longs still unaccounted for. As the Shorts had been at the beerstop for sometime, we didn’t pause for long before checking out the trail. Comes Tonight checked the very inviting, & highly probable, public footpath that lay opposite the beermeister’s car. Twice Nightly and P-Nut were doing checking of another sort, having accosted a passer-by and checked out his Labrador puppy. Menage eventually got us underway by finding the first mark at the bottom of Luscombe Hill, and what a hill this was. Three quarters of a mile of steep, uphill tarmac & no checks. The views were good though. To the left was the site of Luscombe Castle, Luscombe Park & Luscombe Wood further up the hill. I imagine that the stone arch was once the entrance to the castle. On the right was Summercombe Wood which should contain a stately home judging by Oak Lodge but none is shown on the map. Perhaps it was a back entrance to the stately pile near the beerstop that was being rebuilt?

As usual, the very athletic Cousteau FRB’d almost to the crest of Luscombe Hill only to be greeted by a fishhook with an ‘X’ below it.....and a pink penis! The idea of running back to the last runner which still comprised the “lost” Longs wasn’t entertaining. We’d been separated for over 2 hours now &, as far as we knew, they were still crawling around the pubs in Shaldon. Accordingly the 3 FRB’s, Cousteau, Man-Pig & EJ, elected to remain at the fishhook until the main body of the pack caught up. Eventually all the Shorts arrived but still no sign of the “lost” Longs. P-Nut was highly unimpressed by the rather poorly drawn picture of a willy, in pink chalk, on the tarmac. Cousteau had been first to the fishhook &, being a straight-laced sort of chap, he hadn’t drawn it. Man-Pig was second to the fishhook & P-Nut was clearly suspicious but Cousteau was adamant that it was already there by the time he’d arrived. Man-Pig in the clear......for a change. Larks then pulled up with a passenger – Come-Back. Larks had found him struggling at the bottom of Luscombe Hill & given him a lift. The other two “Lost ones”, Shat-Nav & That’s Crap, denied that they’d ever been off trail & declined a lift. Larks said that he’d only just done the fishhook & that he was most certainly not the graffiti artist.  Then Rise’n’Shine noticed a piece of broken chalk in the verge. Conclusion – a phantom penis drawer had come across the piece of broken chalk in the past 15 minutes & effected his trade before disappearing into the woods. Crikey! We were miles from anywhere. Who was going to lie in wait for the opportunity to grab a piece of broken chalk?

Without waiting for the “Lost Two” to catch us up, the trail took us off-road & into the Tower Plantation near Merry Pool. Here we got a little lost before Comes Tonight and Twice Nightly got us back on trail leading towards Little Haldon. This was the highest point on the trail and gave us some superb views looking south across the Teign Estuary. However, one superb view gave way to another as we heard the unmistakeable drone of a Spitfire above us. Sure enough a Spitfire and a Hurricane arced, gracefully across the sky. They had almost certainly come from the old airfield at Bolberry Down where there’s a gathering of historic aircraft every May bank holiday. Our view stop was cut short by the arrival of the rain. Fortunately, it didn’t last long. We next ran though a disused quarry pit & emerged into a car park at the edge of Teignmouth Golf Club. Hairly-Mollusc took the mantle of FRB, closely followed by She’s ready, and took us to our second Long-Short split for a brief loop in Humber Down wood before arriving at the second beerstop at the White Well picnic area. This kies just below the Club House to the Golf club. Here, we were treated to a number of firsts: first white chocolate on the hash, first strawberries of the year, first sight of Shat-Nav & first sight of That’s Crap since Point A! Whilst the harriets oooo’d & ahhhh’d regarding the wide selection of choccies, Larksvomit came clean & admitted that Point B was, in fact, Point A. Additionally, if we were to get the passenger ferry from Teignmouth to Shaldon, we’d better get our skates on as the last ferry was at 4.15 due to tide conditions & it was now 3.30pm. Arguments ensued as the sign outside the Ferry Boat Inn clearly stated that the last ferry was 4.30.

P-Nut wanted to get back quickly as she had a party to go to in Shagford. Larks explained the route back & said that, if we didn’t want to risk missing the ferry, we should follow the trail down to the main road at a junction with a Chinese laundry & takeaway on the corner which was near the rugby club. P-Nut set off followed by, for the first time today, the entire pack! The route back to the Ness car park was almost entirely road but pretty well marked. In fact, apart from the cock-up in the Ness car park, the trail had been pretty well laid so well done to Larks & Paraprick – That’s Crap, Shat-nav & Come-back should have gone to Specsavers before the run!

Once out of the woods, we were treated to an even better view of Teignmouth, Shaldon & the Teign estuary. Quite spectacular really. The sun had come out and was reflecting off the water. All very tranquil and, even better, we now knew that it was downhill all the way back to the cars. We ran down towards the ruins of the Bishop’s Palace before bearing left down Coombe Lane. At the junction with Shepherds’ Lane the trail went straight on. Ménage-a-Trois and most of the pack followed the trail. P-Nut’s local knowledge  enabled her to SCB and turn right down Shepherds’ Lane, emerging onto the main road almost opposite Shaldon Bridge. By this time everyone knew where they were. Marks were ignored. Heads down. Everyone forged their own trail back to the Ness car park where Zombie was already waiting with the bags.

In the Ness pub, the Plympton contingent ordered beers whilst Rise’n’Shine, Twice Nightly and Comes Tonight looked very prim & proper, enjoying a pot of tea. Mike was confused. First he wanted a tea & then settled for a lager. Menage-a-Trois cobbled together some notes regarding faux pas en trail whilst Shat-Nav prepared the down-downs in the beer garden.

Down-downs were awarded to the Hares & especially Larksvomit for a series on Firsts:-

1st hare to lay an A2B by car.

1st hare to loose half the pack from the very outset.

1st hare to exceed one hour to the first beer stop etc etc.

Man-Pig got a down-down as he was overheard muttering something about “That’s Crap taking up the rear” during the first beerstop. Clearly a flashback to his public school education.

Come-Back for getting a lift.

That’s Crap for getting lost.

P-Nut would have got a down-down for her prudishness reading the pink willy but she’d already departed for Shagford. Zombie & Shat-Nav were off to Cornwall for the rest of the weekend so they departed early together with Menage & a couple of others. This left the Plympton crowd checking smart phones for train times back to Starcross. With only ten left we decided on a last beer nearer Teignmouth railway station and so drove the happy campers to the Blue Anchor. We’d just finished our first beer when Doris arrived (sans Rambo who was spending the bank holiday weekend running three marathons).  We were also treated to the company of a pretty drunk, but harmless, convict who was enjoying day release from a local penitentiary. Another beer and then Larks volunteered to take the campers back to Cofton Farm rather than faff around with trains....even if they were free! Doris made the most of a weekend without Rambo and joined the campers for a few drinks at the Ship Inn at Cockwood before catching the last bus back to Teignmouth. Well done Doris. True hashing spirit.

That concluded an eventful day. What had initially started as an unmitigated disaster actually matured into a good day out, despite the unsettled weather. The trail turned out to be pretty good after the initial teething troubles in the Ness car park; a mixture of sea, road, shaggy, track & footpath with some great views thrown in. Well done Larks & Paraprick.

Next month is the AGPU. Point A is still to be confirmed but will be in the Brixham/Paignton area. I think the hares are Shat-Nav & Zombie.



Saturday, 7 April 2012

Run 59 7th April 2012 Ivybridge Woof woof HT2 Endosperm

Run No. 59.        Venue: Ivybridge Railway Station car park

Hares: HT2, Endosperm & Woof Woof.       

Weather: Dry and calm, ideal weather for puffing and panting round the lanes of South Hams.

Hashers: Man Pig, PMT, Top Shelf, Rear Ender, ShatNav, Zombie, Dulux, Choker, Fallen Woman, Lanky, Rise n’ Shine, Barbie, Shorty, Big Foot, Twiggy, Tear Arse, Alistair, Jane.


A small but stalwart group of multi-coloured miscreants mingled mindlessly in the car park waiting for the ‘off’, and ‘twas at the stroke of one that GM Man Pig called us together, firstly to announce that I, Top Shelf, was to be the Scribe, and PMT was to be the RA. A2B virgins Dulux, Choker, Barbie and Jane were welcomed. The hares, HT2, Endosperm & Woof Woof promised us a varied and scenic trail, but gave us no clues as to where we would end up! Would we go north over the moors to South Brent or Cornwood, or south to Modbury or Yealmpton, or even west to Plymouth, God forbid!?


At the first check it became clear that we weren’t going onto the moors, as Shatnav discovered, coming across his first check-back of the day 300 yards up the hill! So we headed south, across the old A38, then across the new A38, and then meandered along the country lanes towards Filham Park. FRB’s Alistair, PMT, and Shatnav did most of the checking, whilst Barbie stood at the checks laughing at the hares that got it wrong! “What’s Shatnav on?” Zombie asked. “Ever since the Grizzly he’s been a man possessed!” Another person possessed was Rear Ender….possessed by excessive alcohol from the night before!


Passing the kiddie’s Fun Day/ Easter Egg Hunt in Filham Park we came to the first beer stop, and the first ‘strange’ smell of the day…..garlic! “Phew! Is that you Man Pig? What did you eat last night?” asked Tear Arse. “No idea,” was his reply,”I was so pissed I have NO idea what I ate last night!” Dulux (local artist and naturalist……I said naturalist, not naturist, you dirty-minded reader!!) pointed out that it was not Man Pig at all, but it was the wild garlic in the woods.


So then it was on along the Erme-Plym trail to the long/short split at Ermington bridge. The short runners soon came across the second beer stop at Ermington Woods, where a veritable feast awaited us: sweets, crisps, nuts, even bananas!  “You shouldn’t eat those Haribos! They’re full of dead insects!” stated Woof Woof. “Yeuch!” thought I as I helped myself to my fifth sweet! Twiggy became quite orgasmic as Rear Ender mentioned film star Daniel Craig!


Barbie, who hasn’t been hashing very long, made a decision to do some checking for a change, and the lucky bugger got 5 right in a row! One unlucky bugger was Lanky who was ‘encouraged’ (forced!) by Zombie, Rise n’ Shine, and Shorty to check up hill. “You should know hasherettes don’t check uphill” they lied as he moaned and groaned his way up the incline!


Crossing some fields we came to the second ‘strange’ smell of the day…..over-cooked meatballs….. when Big Foot decided to step over the electric fence instead of crawling under it like the rest of us !

Crossing the A3121 and into Ludbrook Top Shelf asked “What’s the name of that stream?” “That’s Lud Brook,” answered Dulux. “The name of the place might have given you a clue” “Doh!”


Through some more fields we came to ‘strange’ smell number 3…..cowshit! And SO much of it! The poor cows in the barn were virtually swimming in it! “I love that smell,” said Man Pig. “It clears my nose!” So what comes out of anal passages clears his nasal passages!!


Down the hill and through Bowcombe Wood we came across the third beer stop where PMT found a dead buzzard, bones sticking out between its feathers. “Look at this,” he said to everyone as he handled the dead, departed bird of prey. After hanging the remains on a road sign PMT helped himself to some crisps, digging his hand into the bowl. “Anyone else for crisps?” asked HT2. “Not for me,” said Choker. “I don’t fancy Dead Buzzard flavoured crisps!” “If you find some horse-chestnut leaves,” Dulux told PMT, “you can wash your hands. They’ve got a natural form of soap in them.”

How does she know all this stuff??


So it was on to the last leg of the hash, along a bridlepath, under the A38, and into the woods leading into Bittaford. “My hangover is so bad,” said Rear Ender, “that I’m now seeing double! I know there’s only one runner in front of me, but I can see TWO!” But there were two, Rear Ender… was Shorty and Rise n’ Shine, running side by side! But it’s an easy mistake to make- they are the same height, have the same hair style and colouring, they were wearing the same gear, and they run in the same style. Tweedledum and Tweedledee come to mind!

After 9 miles for the shorts and just over 11 miles for the longs we had arrived at Point B, the Horse & Groom at Bittaford. It was here that Shatnav proved himself a very stylish, colour-coordinated  fella….purple hoody, purple towel, purple nix. “I wonder if his bell-end is purple too,” pondered Man Pig!

“Anything for the words?” I asked as people got changed. “Too many hills,” said Fallen Woman. “No shiggy,” said Tear Arse. “Too much road,” said Lanky. “I got too many checks wrong,” said Alistair. “I got too many checks right,” said Barbie. “My nuts smell funny,” said Big Foot. “My hands smell funny,” said PMT.

HT2, acting as beermaster and bag-carrier, had, in her own words, a ‘very musical ride’ in her car going from beer stop to beer stop…..’twas all the different ring-tones of mobile phones going off!


The Horse & Groom is a very accommodating pub; the landlord loves having hashers there, and he insisted that we have the down-downs in the pub. So it was over to RA for the day PMT….”I’ve never done down-downs before where everyone sits down,” he said.

Down-downs were awarded to:

The hares HT2, Endosperm (or Ectosperm as PMT called him!), and Woof Woof for a grand trail around the lanes of the South Hams, but were accused by the RA of laying it from their car!

Alistair for checking every check, but running right past the first beer stop!

Dulux and Man Pig for their incident with the garlic.

Shorty for complaining that stiles were getting bigger!

ShatNav for failing to get his leg over a gate (I think I might have misheard this one)

Zombie and Rear Ender for being ‘chicks in lycra shorts’, because RA PMT loves running behind ‘chicks in lycra shorts’!

The one that got away……PMT, for his dead buzzard incident, and for his impression of a tramp with dog outside B&Q where a little old lady gave him £1 coin. “But I’m not a tramp,” he told her. “It’s for your dog then,” she said!!

The landlord and bar staff were thanked for their hospitality, and it was time to leave. ‘Strange’ smell number 4 was experienced by Man Pig, Rear Ender, Top Shelf and Alistair as they were given a lift back to Ivybridge in PMT’s Land Rover….was it a dirty washing smell? A dog smell? A dead bird smell? “I can’t tell,” said Man Pig. “My nasal passages are all blocked again!”


Scribe’s note: These Words are a work of fiction. Names, places and events are a product of the Scribe’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, sane or insane, is entirely coincidental.

                                                                                                            Words by Top Shelf

On-on to somewhere in Sheldon on May 5th.                                                    

















Saturday, 3 March 2012

Run 58 3rd March 2012 Denbury Shatnav and Zombie

Devon A-B - Run number 58

Shat Nav and Zombie from a car park in the woods near Denbury somewhere.


Quite a small but perfectly formed group of hounds:

Big Bird, Big Foot, Chunky, Cow Pat, Dynamo (who found the car park without going to Mars and back), EJ, Man Pig (who was early – can you believe it!), Meavy Maid, Over shot, Paperwork, Rise and Shine, Shortie, Sorepoint and Tear Arse.


The view from the front (Paperwork):-

Beaut day but a bit windy – ahh, the hares had thought of that and kindly provided us with woodland to shelter from it.  We zigzagged around to make sure we saw every tree.  More woodland after a short regroup in another car park but unfortunately the windbreak wasn’t to last as we headed out into open fields and the sweat turned cold.  The hares sneakily kept us on our toes by big variations in the distance to the first blob of flour.  Often Meavy Maid, Over shot and I all came back to the various checks, shrugged our shoulders and went back down the same trail to look further for the blob.


The view from the back (Sorepoint):-

Was feeling very unfit after six weeks lounging around in India, so was a bit of a shock to the system setting off through the woods on an extremely windy day.  The sun was out and we gradually made out way to the top of the hill through the trees to a fabulous view from the beacon.  Back down again and some frog watching in the pond.  Luckily the fit buggers in the front were checking it all out for us, so we just plodded along behind.  Shat Nav doing a good job of making sure he’d not lost anyone off the back of the trail.  First beer stop was very early on and I disgraced myself at the second bellowing over the fields that the beer had run out.  How was I to know I was standing in front of a silent order convent?  No curtains twitched, so I think I got away with it.  Anyway, after a little look at the notes in the church off we went again.  This last section was longer than the first two put together and certain of us were really struggling come the end.  Especially difficult was passing a pub.  Yes, you heard me correctly – we PASSED A PUB!  Shat Nav assures us it was closed and he had no choice, but still – I’m sure it’s against the rules somewhere.  We eventually finished up at some pub that I’ve forgotten the name of already, but somewhere in West Ogwell I believe.  Very nice run, lovely day, even if my legs didn’t agree with me.


Chunky was stitched up into being RA for the day and awarded down downs to:

The Hares – Shat Nav and Zombie and Shat Nav also for having to look at the map as we went round to check which way to go.

Dynamo for washing her feet in the sink.

Sorepoint for saying – come this way it’s less slippery, only to fall on her ar*e the next second.

And I think there was one more, but I can’t for the life of me remember any more – sorry!

Saturday, 4 February 2012