|
|
|
 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1988: RUN NO.258 Run Date: 30 October 1988 From The Elephant's Nest Without The Aid Of A Safety Net Our future Lords and Masters in Brussels get a slight feeling of unease on Monday evenings - it's not something they can put their fingers on but it causes them to become petulant and produce directives determining the lengths of pencils (translated into twelve different languages, and causing another fifty hectares of forest to be cut so that all full and associate members and all their staff can receive their copies). No, the broad sweep of human affairs pass us by, whilst we are concerned with the minutiae of our own existence - this was one of those nights - we each had our private sorrows to reflect on afterwards. As the Fferret said in the car park, to the small collection of hounds who had at that time returned, "Come next Monday, we'll be on a hat trick". By the time you read this you'll know if the hat trick has been achieved. The start was as inauspicious as usual, a bitterly cold evening, a clear sky which gave one the opportunity to check on the North Star from time to time as part of ones survival drill (IAT? uses a bright star in a different constellation as his North Star - it's usually in the south east quadrant).The hare had used an open top Land Rover which gave us a clue as to his state of mind. Deadly started whingeing promptly at 7.29 and 30 seconds. Tamar Valley H3 love him for his little ways. We set off when he became intolerable for what was to be an act of revenge from one of the Milton Combe Mafia. When I ran with Tamar Valley H3, the standard rule for runs from the Elephant's Nest pub was to go up the road, off right down the overgrown track for the check back and then carry on up the road. We did the same but there was no check back. One was encouraged. The first check was at the right angled bend, chaos ensued with a lot of unnecessary climbing over hedges. On On was believed to have been called by a group off to the left but they were called back by the hare who then proceeded to wade across a large pond in the belief that we would follow. We all went back over the hedge and through the gate. I think we have future Grand Master material here but he shouldn't make it so obvious. Further checking ensued, even by me - will I never learn? By the time I realised I hadn't found the trail everybody had disappeared except Yesman who said the pack had gone back up the lane. We ran back nearly to the road and stopped in a gateway to look for lights and listen out for voices. Floating across the night air came the call of a flat duck, or maybe the flat call of a duck, way back where we'd come from. If I take out a Trustee Savings Bank account will you stop doing this to me Chris?! A hash with just the two of you tends to lack something (other people, mainly), and so we returned to the corner and this time discovered sawdust off to the right. Finding one blob per field for the first three fields but nothing after that, we made our way to the sound of hounds, and the duck, only to come across a sort of deep leaf. Skirting around this we suddenly found ourselves amongst the rest of the pack, all in various state of complaint, but more consistently about lack of sawdust. We weren't complaining, it had allowed us to catch up. Sod the TSB account! Things proceeded as normal with the hare finding the trail from the next two checks with some difficulty. With three large dogs amongst the pack, Jimmy, Hicks and Minder-Binder, the various stiles and hedge crossings were proving to be the major hazards. If one were unfortunate to be trying to climb over with the three of them at the same time one could rapidly become a cat lover. We came out to the road within sight of the tasteful green Elephant's Nest pub sign, but there was enough sawdust to lead us off left towards Axna. Hicks and the other two Mafiosos claim not to have seen the sawdust and went straight to the pub. Were they forewarned? Near the stream at the bottom the sawdust led left into a field with a resident bog - the front runners were well through and past by the time we arrived. After letting us savour its delights, Mimi called us back to continue up the road. By the time the keenies caught us up and passed us they were whingeing strongly with Deadly muttering at the top of his voice about rules! Not Norman in particular was going on and on about having to go through the bog twice - I think he's going soft - it was only up to his knees. I think he's going to need watching and if necessary pushing. We came out to the moor and the Long/Short split. In the normal course of events the fitter hounds take the Long (or all of us if Thumper's wearing those tights) and those with IQ's discernible on any scale take the Short. On this run a mixture was achieved on each, except for IAT? who found himself abandoned in No Mans Land. Just as he was about to set off for the lights of cars on the Okehampton road (and then where?), Deadly passed by, shortcutting back and took him in tow. The long runners headed off north to points unknown whilst we shorts followed sawdust up and around to the right to a large arrow pointing downhill which must have been the 'On Home' sign with three quarters of a mile to go. Coming out to the road I was all for going left but the Fferret, who was passing at the time, assured me that we needed to go right. His run each week is usually of a highly individual character only occasionally merging with the rest of us. This run was made for his style. Back at the bucket thoughts upon the run were flowing freely: It now seems that runs should be judged on a scale of minus one to minus ten instead of one to ten. Not Norman was still going on about his bog -he just can't get enough enthusiasm to do it more than once. Hounds gradually trickled into the pub. Woodenlegs must have stopped for a Freemasons meeting on the way because she had forgotten to roll her trouser leg down after it. Is she an undercover policewoman? Rover brought out his map of the Karrimor Mountain Marathon run in the Cheviots, with his route marked out. This was a mistake as Deadly and Snakehips told him where he should have gone. The rule is - exaggerate, lie or libel but don't produce the evidence. It was noted that the hare had not returned but we are trained to remain calm in these circumstances, although a slight cheer was raised. We settled down to our drinks, chips and warm fire. Minder-Binder had returned and Dumbo and Rudolph ventured the opinion that he wouldn't return without Mimi. I think we tend to underrate our four footed friends at times. It was only when the GM went around collecting the money and it was realised that Mimi had not paid, that a search party was raised with any conviction. Alas he was found some three hundred yards from the pub with some weak story about looking for Minder. He confided (will they never learn?) to Deadly that he had had to ask at a farmhouse to find out where he was. He couldn't find the sawdust!
|
