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

Cinderfella

Run 45 5th February 2011 The Otter Inn, Colaton Raleigh. Hares: PP and FF

Run number: 45
Date: 5th February 2011.
Point A: The Otter Inn, Colaton Raleigh.
Hares: PP and FF
The hash gathered on a surprisingly warm afternoon at The Otter Inn. After a short while, Man-Pig attempted to call the hash to order. I say attempted, because the pack seemed unable arrange itself into a simple circle – instead creating some kind of ‘blob’ type formation. And taking the hash photo was no easier – with a degree of confusion as to whether we were meant to be looking towards the hedge or towards the camera! To be on the safe side, I understand a photo of each version was taken. Despite the dodgy circle, and the confusion over the photo, Man-Pig decided to get on with proceedings anyway; HIV was nominated RA for the day and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up being nominated for the words!
By this time, the ‘blob’ had managed to form a shape which, arguably, did at least kind of resemble a circle. Looking around, it was clear that there were a number of A2B virgins in the pack, who were then called to the centre of the circle and asked to say their name and who had made them come. Strangely, despite not being present himself, it seemed that Spockybitz had been responsible for making several of the virgins come!! Whether or not these two points were connected seemed to be a recurring theme of discussion throughout the afternoon!
After a briefing from the hares, the hash started with a check in the pub car park. Eventually, ‘On-On’ was called, and we headed west along a small lane which turned into a track and led to the first long/short split. The pace was already picking up amongst the FRB’s but, being native to East Devon, I had a feeling that the long climb onto Woodbury Common might soon be upon us. And, sure enough, after the long trail rejoined the short trail, it began and I was glad I hadn’t started off too fast.
Soon, we arrived at the first re-group, which was on the edge of Woodbury Common, next to a ford. Once everyone was there, we set off – only to find another re-group about 20 metres further up the track. Another much shorter re-group then took place, before PP and FF told us we were being silly and we’d best carry on! So we did, and soon found the second long/short split.
The longs carried on up the hill, before running back down to join the shorts again. It was then, as we went into Uphams Plantation, that the fun began! It soon became apparent that another hash had recently been in the woods too! Since it was me who had laid the ‘other trail’ for the Otter hash on the previous Thursday, I thought I’d keep a low profile and see what happened. Well, it was chaos! And when I arrived at a junction to discover most of the pack participating in a ‘mass-debate’ about who’s hash they were following, I thought I’d better own up. It turned out that our cunning hares, PP and FF, had been very eco-friendly by recycling some trail, and we soon found our way to the first beer stop. The relief amongst the pack was clear to all to see!
But, there were some hounds missing!......little did we know, further drama was unfolding in the woods! Strongbow and a few others were busy rescuing Soapy (I think!), who was injured, and was being taken to another car park to meet FF in his car. This meant that, after setting up the beer stop, FF had to abandon all the beer and leave it in the ‘responsible’ hands of the pack! A dangerous move, but, fortunately, PP soon arrived to restore some order! Disaster averted!
The hash then continued across the Common, with more eco-friendly trail recycling taking place, before we arrived at the third long/short split. The longs ran a long loop around part of the Common before enjoying the descent to Squabmoor Reservoir car park. Minibar decided to run up and down the hill a couple of times…..well, he didn’t decide to, he just wasn’t looking hard enough for the trail and didn’t see the ‘On’ dot first time around!
We FRB’s then managed to overshoot a very important arrow, which pointed to the second beer stop. I’m not sure how we managed that, because we had That’s Crap with us, who can normally smell these things from a mile away! It seemed that the shorts couldn’t understand it either, because, once FF had eventually managed to get us back to the beer stop, they were ‘mass-debating’ again!......this time about how we’d nearly missed the beer!
Next it was ‘On On’ along the shore of the reservoir to the final long/short split. At this point, it was reported that Two Secs had randomly charged off in a different direction. Why?, we did not know at the time, but it later emerged that she was chasing men on bikes! (not for the first time by all accounts!). In the mean time, the longs were running around the woods near Dalditch Farm, and eventually re-joined the shorts not far from the split.
By this time, I had made up my mind that B was going to be in East Budleigh – but at which pub? We charged down off the Common, and with other FRB’s sensing that B may be close, the pace began to increase again – although, clearly, this was aided by the refreshingly downhill gradient!
Point B turned out to be at the Rolle Arms, which is conveniently located next to a bus stop. Fortunately, for Strongbow, who had forgotten to put a spare pair of shoes in his bag, there wasn’t long to wait for the bus back to point A. However, it was long enough for some of the pack to find the bar….and then to miss the bus!! In the meantime, the majority of the pack waited patiently at the bus stop, which duly arrived on time and was pretty much empty…until we got on! The driver looked somewhat puzzled as to why so such a rabble wanted to get from East Budleigh to Colaton Raleigh at 1620 in a Saturday afternoon! Troy explained as we got on the bus, but to no avail! I think the driver thought we were mad – which I guess could be considered an understandable thought!
As the bus approached point A, it passed Man-Pigs son (Man-Piglet, I think…at least that will do for the purposes of these words because I know no better!!), who had finished watching the rugby and was making his way to the pub. So, as soon as we got back to the car park, Man-Pig jumped in his car to collect Man-piglet and save him the walk down the road. However, while his dad’s back was turned, Man-piglet had clearly managed to thumb a lift as he was sat comfortably in the pub enjoying a pint while wondering what was making Man-Pig take so long to get from the bus stop to the bar!!
Miss Whiplash, I’m told, was nervous about going to the on-down. Unusual for any hasher, but it seems that Miss Whiplash was once banned from The Otter Inn and, being a law abiding person, hadn’t been back since. She snuck in behind some other hashers, and no one seemed to notice!!
Good food and beer was served in the pub – which was a good thing, because it was a long wait for the ‘circle’. I think Paperwork and Sorepoint were being widely blamed for the delay – apparently it was something to do with them ordering the biggest meal ever seen this on side of the Atlantic!
We eventually moved outside for the circle. By which time though, some of HIV’s best laid plans were ruined…….half the people who had ‘earned’ down-downs had escaped – clearly with guilty minds! Despite this the circle proceeded with HIV making it up on the spot! He did a very good job, but I can’t remember who got the down-downs!...other than the hares (for being the hares), possibly Spockeybitz (for only coming to the on-down), and Two Secs (for chasing the blokes on bikes). But there were also others!
Thanks to the hares for an excellent hash over some awesome terrain.
On On!,
Cousteau.