Words according to Py (Fen has gone on strike)
A surreal moment on my way up to Wrangaton as the car was trying hard not to aqua-plane in the torrential rain : Was the hash really on Dartmoor this evening? Was Goolie really at home wrestling with Covid rather than devilishly throwing fireworks on a blazing bonfire? As I crawled up the lane with the wipers vainly trying to clear the windscreen, the radio blared out:
“A big Shout Out to South Hams Hash House Harriers who will be out trail running in the wind and rain on Dartmoor this evening! Ha! Ha!” Jo Whiley
First thought: well, at least I am going to the correct place….
Second thought: I am not the only sad hasher listening to radio 2!
With these words of encouragement from BBC ringing in my ears, I dragged Fen from the car to the shelter of the Wrangaton clubhouse for the circle up – so, which smug hasher sitting at home had put in the request to radio 2? Rumours were rife…Rusty? Filth? Gaffer?(!!)
Spirits were high as the thirty odd hashers got ready to face the elements…. although a number of fair-weather hashers were spotted sneaking inside for an early on down… Rubbery, Hekkel, Twisted Sister, Dulux,…!
Rizzo thanked our last-minute hare, Re-Entry, for heroically stepping into the breach to lay the trail in such inclement conditions…the said ‘hero’ then gleefully told us that he and Just Horny had laid the trail in the morning….BEFORE the rain started… but, that we were not to worry, as they had firmly stamped on the sawdust….(all four marks!?) As he introduced a brave local virgin, Harry, the thought crossed my mind that we may never see her again following this stormy baptism … and indeed we didn’t! Did she even make it off the moor?
After words of warning about buddying up and keeping mobile phones in watertight pockets, Re-Entry sent us out across the golf course and on into the wilderness – no problems about keeping the pack together, though, as we were quickly all milling around …. surprising the cows & calves who had come down to shelter from the storm. Last mark? Which mark?
Wet Spot helpfully suggested that the hare had used fairy dust instead of sawdust… but the swirling mist was closer to the work of witches than fairies in my opinion. Hard-on-next-week had a frightening encounter with a bat which flew straight into his face – or was it Half-hard-but-playful? (the hasher not the bat!)
I thought it was Hallowe’en last week! 🦇
Fortunately, Re-Entry soon appeared to give directions to the pack … and we were off again…. to an early stream crossing which we hardly noticed in our already soggy shoes. In the absence of visible marks, the wisest of us tried to stick with the hare… which was a good strategy until the dilemma of the Long/Short split …where Re-Entry set off with the Longs leaving the Shorts to fend for themselves…. onward and upward….
Fen & I headed up Western Beacon with the shorts – happy to be on a very familiar route (for me!) At the top we found an arrow (yippee!) and followed the Stone Row down to the Black Pool where there was a lot of milling around again… until eagle-eyed Can’t Come spotted a mark… and then another… and another… Mutterings of Superpowers as the rest of us were useless! A young hasher with no name who knows him rather better gave us all the answer: it appears that Can’t Come has wandering eyes… (Funny that I had never realised that this could be a useful trait!)
Unusually, Nice Buns, was on the Short this evening. Her usual chatty companion, Rizzo, had all too easily abandoned her hash buddy in her haste to follow the hare, Re-Entry, on the Long. However Rizzo later regretted her decision as she found herself running for her life without her faithful companion! For the intrepid Longs, it was a matter of ‘keep up or get lost’! It has been anonymously reported that the scene on the Long got more than a bit ugly: Dimmers admits to being savage…and Lord Overshot was reported to consider sacrificing Re-entry at a stone circle! What darstardly goings on! A bedraggled Shaggy, however, was simply relieved not to be abandoned to forever roam the moor…
Fen, my faithful hash hound, was on top form loving every minute of the wild run on his old ‘stomping ground’. His nose told him exactly where he was…. unlike the rest of us…!
As usual, the wilder the weather, the greater the fun… or, at least, the greater the euphoria when we all got back alive & well (!) A great hash.
Thankfully Squashed Balls delivered his RA notes on a beer mat this week …rather than the raw sausage. Down Downs were awarded to:
Undercovers – for wedgie wardrobe indecency
Nice Buns – Birthday girl !
Re-Entry – intrepid hare – stepped in last minute!
Pugsley – for the anonymous Radio 2 request!
Can’t Come – for the Supervisionary powers of his wondering eyes!
Rizzo – for gay abandonment of her bestie!
On on to the AGPU at AG