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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1992: RUN NO.458 Run Date: 10 August 1992 The South Hams Amble On a golden summer's evening the hash met at the Forescue Arms, East Allington for a South Hams pastoral extravaganza. Deadly was absent again (it seems that the Chagford senior citizens tea dance and bingo night has been moved to Mondays). Katmandu made the traditional hare's speech, warning against climbing fences. Of course, some hashers never climb a fence - the ones that carry wire cutters. Katmandu also mentioned that Bart was still out on the trail. For some reason this conjured up visions of a pioneer lost in the Arizona desert with buzzards circling overhead, which was possibly not too far from the truth. IAT somehow managed to find the start, which only goes to show the power of prayer. It appears that he and the monster in 'Alien' have quite a lot in common, for instance, when either one shows up everyone else disappears, the other similarities are too obvious to mention. The on was called up along a track and into the first of many fields: Q. What is the difference between Drake Hash and the England cricket team? A. Drake hash is better in the field (But this is no recommendation). The trail was laid insuch a way as to pass as many gateways as possible, meaning unauthorised shortcutting was well and truly punished. After climbing a stile, the runners were confronted by an arrow artistically laid out on the ground in small stones. It must have been a stone age arrowhead. At one point the hash found themselves running through stubble, but personally I find a Remington Microscreen shaver is less painful. Upon seeing the brightly clad hashers in this rural setting, an onlooker would inevitably be reminded of a band of rampaging Worzel Gummidges and Aunt Sallys. Could this be the reason why the farmers gave the permision for the run? Where else could you get moble bird scarers at no cost? As this was the South Hams of Devon the evening would not have been complete without some close encounters of the farm animal kind. First there was the opportunity to make the acquaintance of a herd of pedigree sheep. As you may expect, these were nothing like the wild eyed New Age Traveller type of sheep you get on Dartmoor, but were more the respectable retired stockbroker-golf club type of sheep - the sort one often encounters in the South Hams. Whatever the case, they were still bloody stupid! Next came a couple of donkeys behaving most strangely. It seems that donkey rides are not only confined to the seaside. After the Long / Short split the hash regrouped in a field occupied by monochrome cattle. There followed a reenactment of Pamplona's 'Running Of The Bulls' as the animals stampeded across the field as if their lives were at stake (steak?), whilst scattering hashers in all directions. The trail took us down to the valley bottom where there was a small stream, which was crossed several times. However, lurking nearby was a fearsome predator - the dreaded maneating Shiggy. An unsuspecting Ferret was running along minding his own business (that makes a change!), when the Shiggy struck. First one shoe was sucked into the Shiggy's gaping maw, then when Ferret tried to rescue it the other shoe disappeared. It looked as if the Ferret himself would be next to sink without trace, but suddenly there was an awful squelching / puking noise and out he came. It seems that even a digusting slimy bog can't stomach the Ferret for long! Rover had been quick to offer assistance,whilst backing away as discretely as possible. The final obstacle of the evening was a huge hill, but if you that it was big you should have seen the mole that made it! After we had reached the summit, the bird haunted eaves of The Fortescue Arms soon came into view - a very welcome sight. It had been a very good run in a completely different area for Drake H3. As we made our way into the pub, Slo-Jo took the opportunity to introduce her new puppy, which she described as "A little monster". The little dog gave us his best "Aren't I cute and cuddly?" look, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and unlike Slo-Jo's arm which bears the little monster's teeth marks (or had Wimpers bitten off more than he could chew?). It looks as if hashing is going the way of the Olympics with over-comercialisation prevalent: The hashers entering the pub had to run the gauntlet of Zippy's shoe salesman routine. Following this, they were pounced upon by Muscles who was trying to convince all and sundry that the latest indispensible fashion item was a Drake H3 tee shirt, and at a very reasonable price too. If this was not bad enough, when Limpalong asked if anyone could let him have last week's hash mag, Cream Soda offered to sell him a copy! Perhaps Bill should spell his christian name with a small 'b' in future - come to think of it, he always does anyway. Bart explained the problems he had experienced when laying the trail. Apparently, it had been eaten by cows, covered by hay and ploughed up earlier in the afternoon. He reckoned that two thirds of it needed re-laying at 3.00pm. This led him to suspect that there was some sort of conspiracy against him - it's a pity he didn't suspect the Spanish Inquisition, no-one suspects the Spanish Inquisition (or expects them either). The big news was that Dumbo and Rudolph are now the the proud parents of a bouncing baby boy (does this mean he's a spring baby?), so congratulations are in order. Begorrah was particularly pleased as he was worried that Dumbo might have been inconsiderate enough to be in labour when she was due to lay a hash. It seems that John had studied with your scribe's family - they both shared the same copy of 'How To Impersonate A Doctor And Get Away With It'. In view of his unconventional footwear it looks as if his hash name should be 'Hobnails'. Sadly the hash will be losing Yokelbonker next year (unlike IAT who we lose every year), as he will be moving to the Portsmouth area. He hopes to start a new hash (The Nelson Hash?). Ducky and Hotfingers will be nearby to provide help or, more likely, hindrance. Maybe there could be exchange visits between Drake and Nelson. Endosperm's ethusiasm for hashing knows no bounds: He descended on a couple of strangers out for a quiet drink and gave them a browbeating until they promised to go hashing every week. At the same time he got them to agree to sign up for a time share in Majorca, double glazed windows and a new fitted kitchen. HT2 was looking at an entry for the 'Race The Train' run in Wales, where runners compete against a train over a fourteen mile course. She thought that she could walk and still beat the train, then it was explained that the train was a steam engine not a British Rail express. Slo-Jo had previously asked Limpalong what the 'B.S.B.' initials on Ross's tee shirt meant. Limpalong sagely replied that they stood for 'British Satellite Broadcasting'. He was only slightly wrong, as it stands for 'Bandar Seri Begawan' H3 - a Brunei Hash. However, the satellite connection is still valid, so how about 'Dishy' (or even Squariel) for Ross's hash name? Ross explained that hash laying in Brunei is no picnic - in fact it's more like a full five course dinner. The hares had to go out every day for four or five days in a row to hack a trail through the undergrowth. Each runner had to keep calling so that the person following did not get lost. When someone did get lost they could be out all night in the jungle. Snakes were not a problem but insects certainly were. It sounds remarkably like running at Norsworthy Bridge in the summer. The landlord of the pub was living dangerously by referring to your scribe's lack of craniel follicles. This was a big mistake, because unbeknown to him, I am the food and drink correspondent of 'The Woodlouse Breeders Gazette', and there will be some pretty telling comments about The Fortescue Arms in my next column. Never underestimate the power of the press - it's useful for getting the creases out of your trousers!
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