The Royal Oak
The 1389 words according to Triple Top
In a galaxy far far away nestled between Alderon and the ice planet Hoth a small hamlet of Burrator shrouded in dense fog and the obligatory rain sits on the edge of the mighty South Hams empire allegedly!!
On this cold dank evening a number of hardy souls descended on this secluded carpark, so secluded in fact that a small number couldn’t actually find it and ended up at the pub, blame was banded around and finally fell at the Hare Raiser Dimmers feet. Luckily all were redirected by Twisted sister arriving in convoy before disappearing down a quarry sized pothole entering the carpark.
GM called order and one by one the cars emptied to produce a decent turnout and the remaining doggers cars looked on in amazement thinking they had won the lottery.
The usual speel and domestics from the GM then out of the darkness two visiting faces from Drake appeared Goldfish and Pheronome probably two of the most happiest people I have had the pleasure to meet. Nice Buns had a better invitation apparently vacuuming and dusting a few of the farm barns!! Nothing to do with the weather. Then the dreaded volunteer for the words……..silence, so here I am😊 the GM handed over to the Hare….me so the usual lies were spouted hills, no hills, road 3 and 5 hold some ones hand etc
The walkers circled up to receive their specific instructions Goolie and Ging Gang and a couple others questioning whether they will make it back before dawn, running through the amended walkers route due to the thick fog and drizzle. Running this through Goolie a man of the world who will know exactly where he is to be told he had no idea.. my concern escalated and then noticed Ging Gang in a rather fetching pair of her Gucci hashing high heels darling.
The long and shorts were off into the mist to the first check head torches scurrying like ants around everywhere some of the longs following the shorts and walkers, me trying to redirect thinking oh no I am in trouble this time how many am I going to lose on the moors!! Fortunately the early concerns were unfounded as all reconverged before entering the first section of woods.
Ching Chong and pickpocket bounding out of the woods followed by Olive and Lotarse who got stuck in a time loop of going round and round before finally working out the long loop came back to follow the shorts, Rentry also bounded on the first L & S split heading towards Yelverton before realising and catching back up weaving his way through the shorts back to the front. Onwards towards to next potential disaster.
Up up and up into the next wooded section where the walkers split right back to home along the leat, the shorts and longs persevered with splits and checks, all kicked out by the longs and plenty of shouting Rentry bellowing like a lion imagining him beating his chest like the Alpha he undoubtably is with the rest following suite like a Amazonian mating ritual. To the top of the climb for the shorts to descend back down a trail named Endor weaving through the woods before also following the leat back to the rebel strong hold.
The longs ascended onto the open moor, the route amended as the pea soup thick mist made me realise I didn’t have enough liability insurance to lose all the longs up there, so what I thought was safer route ended up being just a treacherous, up down and around the string of long head torches and frantic calling could be heard, even the sheep were taking shelter somewhere else. Stumbling across Goldfish and Pheronome still smiling despite one headtorch not working producing a replacement from their short shorts and I just thought they were happy to see me and they were off.. the race was on Rentry ahead but these local lads knew they could reel him in with their local knowledge.
Flage decided she needed a sit down not once but several as she did not get wet enough the first time!!!! Back down into the woods bounding toward Norseworthy the FRB’s diligently marking the checks disappeared into the distance. Weaving back and forth eventually finding the one check that wasn’t marked with a back track, hoping to slow the FRB’s speed but to no avail it was soon discovered of course by Rentry the Drake contingent apparently giving him a good run for his money.
And with that most returned safe to the carpark………. some almost heading back out around from the first set of marks
Like a proud parent watching the headlights disappear from the carpark as the masses descended to the pub for much needed food and refreshments. Leaving two cars lonely in the dark, decisions decisions. Fortunately knowing Lotarse had a tracker secreted about her person I made a quick scoot around to see if I could locate them before returning to the pub to get a update on their location from the skynet.
In the pub the masses were all engaged in the usual chat about the shit trail and who was faster than who even though its not a race!! with Twisted Sister studying the tracker which needed internet to actually work and with no Wifi in the pub managing to persuade the bar ladies to get on the secret pub one, then rendering anyone trying to pay for drinks contactless unable too!!! They are back to the carpark Hoorah Hoorah though that’s not the end of it…..watching them trundle along ending up at another pub The Burrator Inn before finally arriving in time for last orders
The Overshot took the mic to RA and with much a plume delivered a rousing history of the day and victimising Dimmers for a number of reasons into a Burns night style amusing Ode to Hashing referencing Gaffers Buttocks, Goolies Plump face, Rust Bottom is a cage fighter and the great GM Rizzo, with something about it not being a race!!!!!
Down Downs arrived for
TT the Hare
Goolie for his plumpness
Ching Chong for the time loop
Goldfish and Pheronome for nearly beating Rentry
Flage for sitting down to much (turns out Flage has been keeping a secret…. The real reason was not that she was sitting down but giving herself the birthday bumps)
Apologies can’t remember the last one…. To complete this story after the frivolities I secured the RA notes for the words, feeling very pleased with myself to then get home stick all my kit in the washing machine and proceed to wash them at 40 degrees, a nomination in itself!!!
OnOn to next week to Dimmers Hash at South Brent that The Overshot is boycotting
Ode to Hashing included below long live the Hash!!
Odes to hashes (not haggis)
Bless these South Hams Trails,
Forgive Plympton from leading us away.
Bless the hares who give up their Wednesday. Even Squashed Balls dare I say!
Bless this beer and the pubs that will have us and
Coppus no catch us,
Farmer no shoot us,
Doggus no bite us,
Who Gives a Shit no Joke-Us,
ReEntry no call us,
Olive all night-us,
Rubbery no lay-us
And Sacred is the Check that the FRBs no Kick us
The groaning Gaffer we have our fill, as he drags his buttocks up the hill,
But mark the Rusty bottom, hash-fed, The trembling earth resounds her tread,
Clap in her ample fist a blade, she’ll make it whistle;
And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off, Like the heads of thistles.
the bottom-line is don’t mess with Rusty!
Good luck to Goolie and your honest, plump face,
And our Great chieftain GM Rizzo of the SH4 race, sorry it’s a hash not a race!
Three cheers to you all, to hash in such a great place