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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1992: RUN NO.476 Run Date: 28 December 1992 More Dart On Dartmoor A goodly crowd gathered at Welcome Valley, Hexworthy on this crisp Monday evening. Quite clearly the most common Christmas present received by hashers was a seasonal virus, as conversation dwelt on a few key words; ache, mucous, pain, runs, tightness in the chest. (Why do male hashers buy their women new bras every Xmas?). A few words from the Hare indicated that there were problems with the run, problems with the pub and some of us were likely to drown this night. The problem with the run was soon apparent; some rotten sod had laid tarmac over Zippy's trail. There we were surrounded by moorland, but wherever the trail went there was tarmac. Cries of "Boring Road Run" were heard from some hashers who had failed to appreciate the extent to which this most illustrious of Hares trail had been sabotaged. Eventually the trail managed to find some vacant grass before two crossings of a stream to whet our appetites. Only IAT in his black Captain Condom outfit failed to get soaked. On down to the banks of the West Dart and then on up for the quickies and along the bank for the slowies and true Christmas revellers. Slo Jo revealed her hippy tendencies as she declared "I'm a tree!", and fair enough she was firmly planted in a bog. After some discussion it was decided not to let this aspect of her character blossom and so with some difficulty she was uprooted and helped to the river crossing. It was at the river that a Good Samaritan was needed, and so Handlebars did his John the Baptist impression by standing in the raging torrent and offering to baptise any volunteers. Most hashers were soaked to waist level. Dishy is to be complimented for getting wet past the Jesus line and not saying it. However, HT2, who should by rights have drowned, found a method of crossing which caused seven hashers on the far bank to hold up cards with five 5.8s, one 5.9 and one 6.0. Only Bryn was totally submerged three times by Handlebars, but since he's a border collie not a sea dog, he needed saving! Across the river there was some confused running through brambles until we came to a wall. The wall was ordinary, but there was a little Pixie (probably strayed from Dartmeet) sitting on it. "This is my wall" said the Pixie, "Piss off". So we did, apart from Yokelbonker, who doesn't believe in Pixies and hopped over the wall. Fortunately he does believe in Trolls and hopped back over the wall to rejoin the rerouted hash. At Huccaby Bridge we came to a 25% hill; so designated because only 25% of the hashers could run up it. It was exactly 8.00pm. What suberb timing! After a quick chorus of "Will you. Won't you. Will you join the dance?" which sounded like "Will we. Won't we. Will it be the Plume?" discipline was imposed by the Grand Master and hashers began a waiting for food vigil, which was well worth it as it turned out, especially for those who like vegetables! And so the last mainline hash of 1992 ended quite appropriately for a Dartmoor hash - more in the Dart than we had been all year! Run No: 476 A Run Date: 1 January 1993 Starry New Year As most of Britain attempted to drink itself comatose by midnight, a select band of hashers arrived at the sparkling Endo-HT2 residence to be greeted by a glistening Drake H3 logo and Mr and Mrs Bigfoot. "Not time for the hash Yeti" they said, "but have some hot cider cup to warm your cockles and block up your arteries". Then everyone including Mary, who'd only come for the beer, bundled into cars to climb to Peek Moor Gate. As we started to run surprise, surprise; a real hash with sawdust and checks and check backs and bloody cold rivers. But what a bonus, as torch beams picked out glittering frosty sawdust, under an amazing starry sky with a brilliant half moon sitting on the hilltop. This tranquil scene was briefly shattered by Bart as he claimed the last hashing injury of 1992, spraining his ankle causing copious secretions from his giggle gland. Its good to see a contented masochist ("I only laugh when it hurts"). As we climbed to Ugborough Beacon, the trail was momentarily forgotten, and then lost, as the hashers appreciated the scene. Once we reached the top it was downhill all the way, ably led by Mimi and Schweppes. As the main group arrived back at the cars Big Ben was just belting out the old year and ringing in the new from Mimi's landrover. A Happy Hashing New Year indeed! Back to the cottage for more traditional celebrations. It was good to see Denim and Stitch once more. Hopefully Stitch will be back to hashing soon after his impending decoke and rebore! Many thanks to HT2 and Endosperm from all present for a very different and enjoyable New Year.
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