At circle up Overshot regaled us with a hilarious joke about Chris de Burgh Island, and we all laughed (uproariously). Two virgins (Louise & Laurie) introduced themselves (or rather were shoved into the middle for ritual humiliation). Overshot thought they might have been introduced to the hash by a running dentist? He was probably watching Marathon Man past his bed time.
Various other really important announcements were made (no, can’t remember them). Then Overshot handed us over to the entirely absent Hares Goolie & Spotty Botty… but, with comedic timing, they screeched to a stop and spilled out of the car, muttering how they’d been at it since 10am.
Goolie muttered something about 100 long/short splits and estimates of distance that all right thinking hashers completely ignored, knowing just how accurate they tend to be. He then directed us the wrong way to the start before recalling us back to go the ‘correct’ way. Tally ho!
The longs did a lovely pre-visit to the Pilchard while the shorts and walkers did the other thing. Then began the longest ever sequence of long/short splits. The hashers were in agreement there were at least 6 splits giving a minimum of 64 possible distances (ranging from 100 yards to at least 13 miles if you listened to the FRBs). Anyway Goolie emerged at one point to berate us for taking his markings too literally.
Later a conclave of hashers demanded the attendance of someone with veterinarial skills who could dissect a cow pat to work out whether it was marked recently with flour, produced by a beast with medical difficulties or horror of horrors an old hash marking. After much to-ing and fro-ing, all hashers re-grouped at the marvellous beach side beer stop. Then amazingly Goolie directed us to the simplest and quickest route back to the car park – what came over him?
On to The Pilchard – Alas, we failed to drink them dry – they were clearly ready for us this time. And gave us a really warm welcome with their roaring log inferno. After an enthralling debate between Overshot, Dimwit and Goolie about how long the course really was, we woke up to more Agatha Christie based puns. We also learned that:
Peeps was running jetlagged after a flight back from South Africa (what route did the pilot take?); Wetspot has a condition that stops him running around islands; Beeflicker has a compulsion to push people down hills; and Deepthroat is teaching her kids the noble art of down downs (with water we were reassured).
Down downs were awarded to many people, but were mostly re-nominated, so the situation remains confused as to who drank what. Upshot tried to award down downs to Hares Spotty Botty and Goolie, but Spotty Botty had gone home because she wasn’t feeling on top form so Goolie nominated Ging Gang, awarding her a special birthday half of prosecco.
Neither of the virgins took their medicine (one of them doesn’t drink beer – only champagne!), instead nominating Flage and Gary Glitter. Dimmers complained that he hadn’t been mentioned but still didn’t get one. Josie (currently unnamed) received one for waiting cross-legged for half an hour by her car not realising the key was in the usual super secret hash location – the wheel. Various hash names were suggested including Rimmer, but Overshot deferred naming. Shorty had one for the previous night’s football result. Dimmers made another desperate (and failed) attempt to get a down-down. Barbarella got one for running.
So that was it for another excellent visit to Bigbury. Apparently, we’re going to do it all again (for the 1200th time) on Wednesday at a brewery. If only there were some commonly used metaphor for bad organisational skills, drinking too much and a building primarily used for the fermentation of alcoholic liquor that I could wheel out… No can’t think of one!