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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1988: RUN NO.229 Run Date: 4 April 1988 We Plough Through Fields And Scatter Dinnaton at Ivybridge was a new location for Drake to start from, with the run being disorganised by Chalk Wallahs Chris and Hugh of Plympton H3. Whilst putting out his cigarette (he's in strict training), Hugh announced to the assembled twenty eight hashers that there were two runs; the long being seven miles and the short three miles. No problem for me deciding which to run with my injury (see pages 3, 4 and 5 for a fuller explanation, graphs and diagrams). Returning visitors, Judy and Ray from St Albans, pranced expectantly - they're friends of Hubcaps - at least they were before this run started. There were also some new runners; Marcus and Matthew from Milton Combe, that village with an apparently inexhaustible supply of young hashers - long may they keep coming, and Popeye(?) - PK's friend. Deadly was away so we enjoyed a delayed start, a doubtful privilege as someone had left the door open. A hectic helter-skelter followed over some excellent cross-country running surface to Henlake Down, through the woods to come out just above the railway viaduct (and the first check - and the only one on the short run!). Some early shiggy could easily be avoided so Not Norman paddled enthusiastically in it, using the theory that if its available get it whilst one can, a method adopted by the older members. We went left under the railway viaduct and through the woods to the long/short split at the weir. The Milton Combe Doberman didn't want to go on the long (having more sense than some), but Mimi expertly manhandled him up the far bank. IAT? took the long forgetting that whilst he may be fit enough for the distance the chances of going astray are greatly increased. We on the 'short' were escorted by Hugh who wished to get back quickly for another cigarette - knowing that hashing can seriously damage your health. There were but seven of us - there should have been nine (at least) but thirteen year old new Hasher Matthew had apparently been unceremoniously shoved on the 'long'. We were told by his mate that he'd never run further than a mile in his life. We had a good laugh about that. Our little group suffered from an embarrassment of riches; not only did we have hashers who hadn't ever run before, we were also being honoured by the presence of the Hash Horn - who was for the first time running with a horn! Up to now he had been a Closet Hash Horn - producing a magnificent gleaming instrument from the boot of his car - a quick tootle - and back in the boot. But now the weight problem had been solved (of the Horn, not the carrier). And so he was now brandishing a French Truffle Horn - a Horn par excellence! It is of course the Closed Season for truffles, but no doubt he will be more successful later. Mind you with Viv's running performance the Horn is more likely to tell us where we have been than where we are going. The trail took us along the path beside the river in an unhash-like manner but it is a beautiful area and well worth a return visit. Eventually we climbed back out of the valley and had but a short jog back to the cars. Despite my injury (see pages 3, 4 and 5), I went for an extra run and realised after a while that the trees I was heading for were Hanger Down Clump, and we were, of course, on Hanger Down. A cry came across on the wind from the other side of the valley, an ON ON or a cry of despair. "And what was happening on the 'long' run?", I hear you say. Well, I'm glad you asked me that (how clever of you to think of it). Not Nornan reported that the 'long' went down into Ivybridge through a housing estate and back to the bridge over the railway line at Cole Lane, with the last check being reported here. If the pack had been together at this point, the climb up the road and then up the footpath to the moor would have put paid to any sense of togetherness. The trail then proceeded northwards around the edge of the moor a la Plympton 333rd run. Having got to Tor Rock Quarry, the depleted pack of three decided enough was enough. Upon finding a path with a sign that said 'Private - No Entry', they followed it down to the road and returned to Ivybridge where they retraced the start of the run. The run proper, I believe, continued on to Harford Moor Gate, down to Harford, right along the road towards Torr and back on to Hanger Down by Hall Farm or Hall Cross. Wherever it went, it had the effect of spreading Hashers over a large part of the countryside. One particular group contained IAT?, Matthew (who'd never run further than a mile before) and Ray from St. Albans (who'd never been anywhere near the area before). Realising that being led by IAT? had, not to put too fine a point on it, its negative side, St. Albans took off on his own and returned without further difficulty to Judy, who was maintaining a lonely vigil at the cars - such loyalty goes strangely with normal hash behaviour. Arriving at the junction by Harford Church IAT? decided that the Cornwood direction offered greater scope as he knew the direction from Cornwood to Plympton. Matthew was beginning to realise that his Monday evenings could be better spent learning Mongolian than being led around in the dark by some middle aged idiot who had no idea where he'd been, where he was, or where he was going. But stay - getting to Hall Cross (start of a Not Norman run some time ago) he turned left and made his way out on to Hanger Down. Nearly getting to the Clump (and less than half a mile from the cars) he turned back to the road, (because as the Actress said to the Bishop, "Approaching from this direction you don't know what you're getting into"), and continued on towards Cornwood. Of course we 'short' runners were not concerned about these matters. Whilst invective was being raised, the Hares' parentage discussed with some frankness and general despair settling on the various groups, we were settling down to our drinks at the Exchange. A strange pub normally frequented solely by the youth of the town and hung about with peculiar farming implements. Can one be at ease standing under a plough? How conscientiously was it hung up there? I doubt very much if the sounds of Beethoven's Ninth had ever graced this establishment. And there was no food. Endosperm arrived sometime later still in running gear and muddy shoes muttering something about "In Norman's car". I wouldn't normally want to go into a pub that would allow people like that in, he was happy though - his money was "In Norman's car" so he got as many free drinks down him as he could. Viv also had something going about "In Norman's car", but I was not quite clear what. It was sufficient, anyway, for Norman to start giving Viv an extremely hard time when he eventually returned to the pub, because he seemed to have been under the impression that Viv was out on the moor somewhere blowing his horn. If he'd asked us we could have told him he was in the pub! Search parties were being mounted to look for those in peril on the moor (including Viv who was in the pub!). As the Farting Ferret said, this run was the only time he's been able to have a pee without a crowd of females lighting upon him. Not Norman had the solution to finding the missing throng, though, by working out the most impossible place they would be (years of delivering furniture to the wrong address prepares you for this). And so it was that he found them on the road approaching Cornwood. IAT? gave some explanation which to him seemed logical, but I understand Norman didn't agree. Back in the pub we had settled down in a corner on the three piece suite (did you ever hear of a pub with a three piece suite in it?) the better to relax and savour the misfortunes of those souls stranded out there in the cold wind. Hash Cash's sole concern was that some of them hadn't paid. Late arrivals were greeted with an outstretched hand for money rather than warmth and bonhomie. One way and another all returned: Endosperm was able to change out of his damp shoes and socks and shorts (l got a drink out of him as soon as possible), Viv got his bollocking, the Hares protested valiantly, Matthew wondered how anybody could have thought hashing was enjoyable and IAT? took his criticism in the manner to which he has become accustomed. If we can create this chaos after over two hundred runs, it warms the heart to think of what we will be able to achieve with our first car rally. It should be the sort of thing where the police of five counties are alerted. IAT? is running in the London Marathon and I have discovered that Ladbrokes are running a book on him, the odds at the moment are:- 300-1 that he can find London 1,000-1 that he can find the start 2-1 that he can find the start but on the wrong day Evens that he starts with the Elite ladies 3-2 that he goes astray on the first bend 2-1 that he'll try shortcutting 1-2 on that he'll get lost shortcutting 1-3 on that he'll tell someone he knows this area like the back of his hand No odds would be quoted either that a search party would have to be sent out or that he would finish. He is running for Diabetics in Tavistock and is seeking sponsorship - please give generously. An idea that the Committee might like to discuss: a) that someone makes some signs b) that Hares put these signs at strategic places to indicate where the start might be c) this would be particularly useful to new members who do not know the area as well as long standing members do A radical idea maybe - but one worth discussing!
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