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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1987: RUN NO.192 Run Date: 24 August 1987 Bloodnock & Cream Soda's Magical Mystery Tour The Tavistock Woodlands Estate at Carthamartha was the venue for this joint Drake H3 / TransVestite (sometimes known as Tamar Valley) H3 hash. A location specifically chosen in revenge for all those previous reunions at Mothecombe. However, none of Drake H3 sulked off for a lap of Burrator Reservoir. There were some notable absentees, perhaps this run was a cure for diarrhoea. Eventually, sixteen Drake hashers replete with maps, ropes, torches, bivi bags, emergency rations etc., reached the parking field - there were surely some who did not make it........ The Odds were assessed as 3:1 against but this lengthened to 5:1 as the convoy of Tamar Valley H3 latecomers filed into the field. When even Bloodnock could wait no longer, the customary briefing was delivered: "Shut the gates,when near sheep, keep all dogs on leads, we're using some Private parts, loads of bullocks etc." Just as we were falling asleep, the direction of the first check was given and so the pack charged off through the gateway and over the car which was in it. After two miles of track we entered the woods and began checking. There were several possible trails and all the check-backs were a long way out, as was the 'ON' arrow. This pattern was repeated throughout the run which gave the keenies plenty of chances to increase the training mileage. Drake H3 spread in all directions at the checks whereas Tavistock Athletic Club held hands on the most level route that they could find and the Tamar Valley H3 wounded, notably Glani & Westlake, used what little local knowledge they had, combined with even less collective brain power, to find the short cuts. Our method worked for the first few checks until your scribe got stranded on a long check-back, then caught in the jungle before intercepting the last arrivals whom Bloodnock had sent on a loop which everyone else had missed. Next came the inevitable fording of the River Inny within sight of the footbridge and a series of checks leading uphill to what Cream Soda considered to be the climax of the run. This was a check with crosses on all the trails with more sawdust and crosses beyond: This should have been the ultimate regroup but you can rely on hashers to **** it up. A new World Record may well have been established for time taken to sort a check out as the hounds ran around in total confusion. Some returned from the correct trail more than once, F Ferret set a new Personal Best for getting hopelessly lost, Sturmer went up the pole, others gave in and when we eventually called "ON! ON!" many turned and ran away. Soon afterwards the groupies at the parking field heard simultaneous shouts from all over the woods from several bunches of runners doing their own versions of the trail. We encountered a check on every junction (I got them ALL wrong), then headed down a lane, through some fields, back into the woods and across the river once more. Great! The finish must be near, we thought, momentarily forgetting it was back on the very top of the hill. The keenies were now ready for the race home but the hares had other ideas: First came the only real shiggy of the evening, then some false trails and disorientating twists before a grassy overgrown track led up to the sky. Deadly got to the front briefly, until he was passed by some real runners who were undeterred by the flailing arms and legs of a once useful veteran orienteer. He should do well in the next Harrods sale. Staggering out onto a forest road an arrow was spotted pointing downhill again. The leaders of the pack stood in stunned silence and then drifted dutifully off towards the river again. Well, at least the stupid ones did! We had obviously rejoined the outward route and so your scribe, quite rightly in these circumstances, ignored the arrow and headed for home. Those on the second lap must have wondered who had kicked out the check marks for them. The On Down was at the 'Hare & Hounds' at Chip Shop, could there be anywhere more appropriate? This place is miles from any form of civilization except Endosperm's brother - well, not life as we know it perhaps, but close enough - a tremendous relief to someone who did not have to navigate back to Plymouth after repeating his performance from the recent 'Abject Squalor' Thrash. An early departure for the pub after the run was essential to ensure swift service before the masses arrived and more time was gained by choosing to follow the right car. As expected, the On Down was too crowded, too noisy, too hot etc. but most people seemed to be enjoying themselves. A good finish to an excellent evening's entertainment. SHORTS: Rover's return. Special appearance for one week only. He was glad to park after Deadly but would not talk about his bumped bumper. Cream Soda - He'll clean your carpets and then widen your gateway for free on the way out! Horse Trough - His condition must be serious if he missed an opportunity to wind up Tamar Valley H3. Will somebody get him some treatment? Several people remarked on the uncanny resemblance between Chief Scribe Arkle and young David. Why did FFerret & Deerhunter have a private On Down at the Colyton Arms? I know that the Grand Master is missing Norman, but doesn't he know that not all civil servants went to Cambridge? Abdul is back. When is he going? I don't know! Sara Bloodnock: 200 times on a Monday night. Our sincerest condolences. Has anyone told TVH5 that his new horn was not the cause of the shattering performance? It was the landlord shooting himself in the wall-light with a soda-syphon. Is Anthony There? Is Paxo Russell a fair replacement for the B & D star, whose lawnmower could not clear the sleeping policemen at Carthamartha and so he went home. This is Hotlip's last hash with us before moving to her new job in London. I hope she lasts longer than our previous exports to the Smoke! We would prefer her to stay here but wish her luck in the future.
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