Saturday, 5 March 2011

Run No 46. 05/03/2011 Harberton. Shat Nav and ManPig

Devon A2B 5 March 2011. Run No 46. A – Harberton.

Hares: Shat Nav (He’s crap at navigating) and Manpig (He’s a man and he’s a pig).
Beer Mistress Zombie (She’d rather die than hash).

March is the last month that the River Dart is open to White Water canoeists and I am booked on a 4 star course for the weekend of the A2B. I send my apologies to ManPig. I am full of trepidation as I have done very little canoeing this winter and 4 star is at least one level above my ability. This A2B is also the last chance of a longish training run before the Grizzly. I am full of trepidation about the Grizzly as I have done very little training over the last year and 20 miles is at least double my current ability.
I have warned my canoeing coach that I may turn up late and hung over on both Saturday and Sunday as I have dinner parties to go to on both Friday and Saturday nights.
On Wednesday I got a “Get out of jail free card”. Due to the lack of rain and low river levels the canoeing course is cancelled. Phew! That’s a relief, I can save face in the Canoe Club and do the A2B.
Fridays dinner party was actually more of a “house cooling party” It’s Plastic Pig’s (he’s a part time cop) parents place, they have moved to Spain and the house is “Sale agreed”. As it’s very near to Harberton it would be rude not to do the hash.
Plastic Pig and PeaNut (It’s on her No. plate, which I believe is personalized) agree to come along!
We wake up to Frost on the cars and a very dull looking day, I’m glad I won’t be spending long hours “in” the river today!
We wind our way through the tiny roads of Harberton looking for the village car park, at one point having to fold the wing mirrors in to squeeze between two walls. They obviously didn’t have much foresight, regarding the size of twenty first century cars when they built the Church House Inn.
Although the frost has gone it is still nippy and all the talk is about the cold and how much or little training has been done for the Grizzly, it seems that for most of us this is the last ditch effort before next Sunday.
There are 32 hashes at the circle according to Sore Point. At the circle Manpig nominates Gaffer to be R.A. and Cinderfella (yours truly obviously, I once wore size 7 trainers to the On Down) to write the words. There are Three A2B virgins Cuckcoo from Plympton. Woof Woof from Isca/South Hams and Whisperer from South Hams.
Has anyone (apart from me of course) ever thought of compiling a directory of Hashers names and how they got them??? There are some that intrigue me, Spank the Monkey seems such a lovely lady!
Shat nav told us the usual lies about the length of the trail and where it was marked etc, then we were off.
Within 50 yards of leaving tarmac Mavis (a tenuous link to a car hire company he worked for) goes down with a twisted ankle. I realise I haven’t got my usual first aid kit, but it is only Mavis. Peanut phones Zombie to get him picked up, and they retire to the pub for an early lunch. After a few hundred yards we come to the first Long/Short split
Another mile and it’s Rearender’s (she’s lousy at reversing, or driving forward for that matter) turn to trip and badly grazes her knee. She hobbles for a while until the pain subsides then picks up the pace again. I leave her running with Drag Act (usually towed by a dog) and try to catch up the FRB’s a bit.
Soon we find ourselves at a R.G. in Harbertonford where the shorts rejoin us, but there is no beer or sweets, Shat Nav says “this is not a Beer Stop” and directs us across the A381.
Eventually we find ourselves in the hamlet of Bow at the B.S. Miss Whiplash (used to be a horse ridding instructor) is there helping out with Hash Hound Taffy (an odd name for an English Spaniel for Southampton). Taffy isn’t allowed to do long hashes as he doesn’t pace himself and suffers the next day.
From Bow the shorts were directed to Asprington, while the longs went on to Tuckenhay and had to do a lap of Cornworthy first. All very pretty villages which were a distraction from the cold and distance. Then a very scenic run along the banks of Bow creek, where I noticed a dinghy full of rain water that was still frozen. We retraced our steps to Bow and followed the shorts through Ashprington then down onto the foreshore of Sharpham estate. Here I met Shat Nav who said it was only half a mile to the next beer stop then two miles to B. It was during this leg that I saw Meavy Maid and Whisperer taking a short cut across a field, I hope they didn’t trample on the Snow Drops.
About a mile and a half later I arrived at said beer stop, passing some shorts retracing their steps, Duchess (Her surname is Noble) told to say that “the flap jacks look just like feet”. The crumbs I was offered were tasty but looked nothing like feet, but didn’t want to spoil the joke, the rest of the crowd were amused anyway even though I didn’t get it. Then I saw the specially reserved one for Shat Nav. There’s love for you!
Feeling a bit worse for wear and thinking I had only run about 8 miles (as it was only supposed to be 11 miles in total) I was rather concerned about how I was going to manage 20 miles next week. I was therefore a somewhat relieved when I heard that we had actually covered 11.5 miles already.
From the second B.S. it was back down to the back of the river and on into Totnes where we discovered that B was the Dartmouth Inn.
A hash menu was laid on but as the carvery was due to be served at 5 pm some opted to wait half an hour. I restrained myself and just had some cheesy chips as I had a five course dinner to look forward to.
We were called outside into the cold again for the Down Downs, Gaffer called forward Mavis for his fall and spending all afternoon in the pub. Woof Woof for saying she wanted a “Chew but had to Suck it because it was hard”. Cuckcoo for asking why there wasn’t a bowl of Ibruprufen at the B.S. then delving into her own supply. Vomit for needing some of Spank the Monkey’s Poo bags even though he didn’t have a dog. That’s Crap for giving the R.A. some toilet paper to write on. Catflap for saying “Bonking had sapped his energy”. Endosperm for having no energy (I don’t know if there is a connection there?) Emperor Ming for being that fashion conscious that he couldn’t wear the same cardigan as Vomit in the pub.
And the hares for “laying” or was that “lying”. Total distance run was 15.6 miles.
Sorry we had to “run” and couldn’t give U Bend Over (He’s a plumber) and Plastic Pig who we had promised lifts back to their cars, but dinner was waiting!

On On


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