Hairlines











828

04-Feb-15

BrushOff

The Monkton Inn Car Park, West Monkton
O/D The Monkton Inn

TA2 8NP

Need A New Volunteer for Hairlines

829

11-Feb-15

BabySpice
GentlemanCaller

830

18-Feb-15

Tom Tom
assisted by Neve

Master Thatcher, Lisieux Way, Taunton

TA1 2PD

831

25-Feb-15

Ken/Eric

Dunster Steep Car Park, Dunster

TA24 6AS

832

04-Mar-15

P2L & Why Bother

833

11-Mar-15

Grasshopper

834

18-Mar-15

835

25-Mar-15

836

01-Apr-15

837

08-Apr-15

838

15-Apr-15

837

24-Apr-15

838

29-Apr-15

WAM


Thursday 30 August 2012

Run703 Paul and Jackie Lethbridge Arms


Run :- 703. Lethbridge, Bishops Lydeard 
Hares :- Paul & Jackie
Hounds:- JB, WAM, Bangkok, Ferret, Phantom, Brush Off, Grasshopper, Pink2Lips, Why Bother, Withy, Gymslip, Martini, Floater, Tenzing, Dormouse, Liz, Mark, Keith, Sharron, 
Pub Get a Life.


I will apologise before I start that this will only be short as I have forgotten much of what happened last week.  Not to say this wasn't a very good hash laid by Paul & Jackie, just that with age the memory isn't what it used to be.

We all met at the Leftbridge in Bishops Lydeard and once we had managed to squeeze all the cars into the car park we were off.  Under the main road to the railway station then on on called down a footpath by the railway line.  over several fields until we got to a sneaky little detour around a field, thought up by Paul, no doubt, as he was the one sniggering when we got back out on the road 2 feet from where we left it.

Oops I forgot to mention the fish hook, was that Paul or Jackies idea?  Three of us had to pay their dues and go to the back.

Now for the best bit, and I am sure this wasn't down to Paul, the homemade cake at the re group.  Yummeeeee.  Three different type of cakes which all had to be tried and even some ice cold juice to wash it down with.  Don't expect this on my hash.  It was very pleasant the adults talking while the children played on a tyre hanging from the tree.  As usually happens the children got out of hand with Why Bother using Ferret to batter the tree trunk.  After suitable chastisement on on was called to the pub were copious amounts of beer were drunk.


Many thanks to Paul and Jackie for an excellent hash










Thursday 23 August 2012

Run 702 - Down in the Woods




Run 702,  15th August 2012.    Rising Sun, West Bagborough    Hare: Down in the Woods

Pack: Bangkok, Pink2Lips, Just Bull, Grasshopper, Brush Off, Why Bother, Dormouse, Big Bird, Floater, Ferret. Sharron, Gymslip, Keith, Liz, Stephan, Tenzing. (16)

The hare was wearing some very smart black and green longs and her assistant was also clad without showing any bare flesh.  Hmmm, very suspicious.
We were told to look out for a killer bull that would be hiding and waiting for us and, if he didn’t get us, night-time might swallow us up in the last ten minutes.  ‘But we have got torches’ they said. ‘Na na nana na’.

Grasshopper had seen a check at Higher House so off we sprinted up the hill like a pot of gold had been spotted.  At Post Office Cottage, I had an attack of ‘bugger this’ syndrome and started to walk.  Grasshopper was heading up to Lydeard Hill while Keith studied a gate to the left.  I followed Gymslip and Stephan over the stile towards Higher Terhill and they were soon calling On On.  
At the white gate and the lane, Gymslip checked up in the direction of Tilbury Park but it was Stephan that called from down the hill and we all gathered at the Terhill corner while 2 footpaths and the lane were investigated.  There was a little delay here as Why Bother searched the horse field, tentatively followed by Big Bird, until excitement erupted at the glimpse of flour.  
It was Gymslip and Stephan again leading us, although no white blobs were seen, to a wildly overgrown and fenced-in footpath that led us to a road with our legs burning….those of us not wearing longs, that is.  We guessed that all the flour had been rubbed out!  It was Ferret’s eagle-eye that discovered a washed-out check and it was Brush Off’s speed that had him hollering the ON towards Shopnoller.  
The fast group were competing between the checks and after Brush Off called On On at the top of some stone steps, an impromptu stop was made, the front of the pack being unaware that Big Bird had gained a swollen ankle by finding a hole for her foot.  She short-cutted back to the cars whilst the doctors, nurses, quacks and consultants tried to link-up with the front of the pack.
The trail took us through the St Pancras Church Lych-gate and up to the totally renovated Rock Farm house displaying it’s golden, new thatch then, ever upwards to a check that many of us didn’t see, where Keith stood, guiding us to the Regroup.   This was a good spot for watching the threatening clouds approaching.
The long, dark hollow-way took us sliding down to the Rising Sun where the sky was, at last, clearing.      
The bull was very clever at hiding.                      

Good one, Nicky.     4.6miles I’m told.

Monday 20 August 2012

Run 701 - Bangkok and Ferret


Hounds: Dormouse, Steffan, Phantom, Big Bird, Grasshopper,  JB, Tenzing, Why Bother, P2L, Brush off, Moonflower, Gym Slip  
On down: Carewe Arms,  Crowcombe
 I managed to swoop in on time, as I had been left to my own devices (the rest of the coven were otherwise engaged - holidays, Olympics….honestly some people have their priorities all wrong!)  A good number of hearty hashers were already gathered.  As it was a live hare we were told to stand in a line facing the sign for three minutes and under no circumstance do any peeking (as if we would cheat..)   Passers by must have thought some strange Quantock ritual was taking place.  Three minutes up, we made a move to check it out.  Down to the right was finally on, taking us into Govett’s wood and down… and down…. and down…  Eventually the down ended and we hit a track that must have been about 100 yards from where we started!  Flour proved a little tricky to find, but eventually the path was found and yes, it was up, up and up.  
More twists and turns and we pop out onto some open land and I’m sure I could see the car park in the near distance!  Some thorough checking needed as the trail was tricky to find (I’m sure that’s because it was cleverly laid!)  On on called and we enter woods again, which takes us down again.  Some very helpful signage on the ground then telling us we were going up, up and up (so kind).   Through some very muddy tracks and more woodland, (I think we must have been in Seven Wells Wood – not really sure though..) then out into the open and we skirt around some gorse and hit the re-group, but no sweets we are told, although probably for the best, a serious risk that we could have been eaten alive if we stood around too long, so on on called and back into the woods.  Eventually we cross a road, my sense of direction has now gone completely, more helpful writing on the ground (the hare can apparently hear us) and (we’re not far now).  We are now running along deer paths as we wend our way up and up.  Then the ghostly figures of the hares appear in the mist, with whisperings of only a mile to go…. but a short while later we pop out onto the road and in the haze we see the car park.  
A great live hare run, thank you hares.

In the vein of Dead Woman’s Ditch I found a ghost story (I’ve cut it down a bit), but I’m very pleased I wasn’t running alone… Yeth Hounds…..
The Curse of the Yeth Hounds.'
By Jacqueline Marchplane
I sat on Thorncombe Barrow, above the village of Bicknoller in the Quantock Hills in Somerset wondering if they would come tonight. I was waiting for the appearance of the Yeth Hounds, those strange ghostly creatures whom I believed had laid their curse on me many years before.
I first heard about the Yeth Hounds when I was a teenager. A gang of us had gone into the Carew Arms in the village of Crowcombe, which was frequented back in the sixties manly by hill farmers and old shepherds. Earthy men descended from generations of West Somerset folk who lived, worked and breathed the air of the Quantocks, men whose very souls were born out of the combes and covers on the hills. Men who knew no other life, nor had any desire to.
We were assembled in the public bar with its flagstone floors and roaring log fire throwing darts at the dartboard. We weren’t playing a game as such, merely messing around to pass the evening, laughing and joking amongst ourselves. The men would tell stories to each other, though sometimes I suspected they were for our benefit as well, when they got bored with the dominoes. Some of us had to walk home later in the night over the hill, and the stories served well to scare us half to death before we left for home. There was a story about a seven-headed monster that lived in Crowcombe combe, surviving on a diet of young lambs and deer. There was another about the ghost of Dead Woman’s Ditch, a grey apparition of a female figure who roamed the hilltops. However, the story that intrigued me most was the story of the Yeth Hounds.
According to the local characters in the pub, the Yeth Hounds appeared around the time of the full moon, accompanied by a rider on a black stallion. The whole apparition appeared black, as if in a silhouette and they were completely silent. Not a hoof fall or the bay of a hound would ever be heard. They would appear from nowhere and gallop noiselessly by any lone walker who happened to be on the hills in twilight. It was also said that anyone who happened to see the Yeth Hounds would later experience extreme bad luck after the sighting.
It was about three years after hearing the story that I actually believe I saw the Yeth Hounds, and it was to be a

n experience I would never forget. It was late October and I was walking my dog above Crowcombe, on the main track that runs the length of the hills. The sun had gone down and there was a distinct chill in the air, the Hunters Moon was already ascending like a giant red Chinese lantern in the sky. It was light enough to see, but only just. However, I liked to be on the hill at that time of the year. I liked to hear the roar of the rutting stags echoing around the combes below me. I was listening hard but all was silent. There were no stags to be heard that night. Then I noticed something coming towards me. It was just one shape to start with and I couldn’t make out what it was but as it approached I realised that there was more than one shape.
I stood stock still on the track as it came closer and closer. Yet I still could hear nothing as I began to make out the outline of a horse and rider surrounded by several dogs with long curved tails. They were without doubt, hounds, a familiar sight in this part of the country, but they showed no colour. There were no light patches of white on them that should have been clearly visible in the moonlight. Everything about this spectacle, what ever it was, was black. I could make out no contours or features on either horse, rider or hounds.
I called the dog to me and caught hold of his collar for fear that he might take after the hounds and decide to run with them. However, he seemed to show no interest in them at all, as if they did not even exist. Suddenly they were level with me, passing by, their feet appearing not to touch the ground at all. I looked up to catch a glimpse of the face of the rider but he was looking away from me and all I saw was the bizarre outline of a hooded cloak. With the same they were gone. They seemed to fade into the darkness much more quickly than they had appeared and as they moved on silently down the track behind me they were soon lost from view.
I was shaking all over. The whole experience was weird and uncanny. I knew that whatever I had seen was not of this world yet I also felt that I had had no part to play in their appearance. It was if I just happened to be there at the time.
***
(The story goes on…. She leaves Somerset, lives in India for a while, suffers a huge loss and eventually returns to Somerset…..)
***
So now, back in England, back in my beloved West Somerset I wondered whether I really had been cursed by the Yeth hounds. Deep down I knew it was irrational. The sights I had seen on the streets of Calcutta told me that. The deprivation, misery and suffering touches the hearts of all those who witness it. Yet I had to know for certain. Somehow I had come to the conclusion that if I were to see the hounds again I would find out, so I set about visiting the hills after sunset, in the hope of seeing them again.
I had been on Thorncombe Barrow for quite some time now. The sun had gone down, dusk was falling and a chilly breeze blew in from the Bristol Channel. I supposed I really ought to make my way back home but there was no one waiting for me and I had no agendas to keep. I watched, with a growing feeling of peace and contentment as the moonlight began to sparkle on the sea beyond. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes but opened them just as quickly when I felt two hands roughly grip my shoulders. Before I knew what was happening I felt myself being forced to lie flat on the ground and my clothes were being torn brutally from me. I might have screamed, I don’t really know but I struggled hard against my attacker.
He was about thirty years old I guessed, and wearing cycling gear. He kept shouting to me not to scream and I wouldn’t get hurt. I tried to plead with him to leave me alone but he said he was going to have me. He even said if I didn’t struggle so much I may even enjoy it. He had pulled my skirt up and begun to tear at my underwear when he suddenly stopped and began to shrink away from me. The look of savage aggression in his eyes seemed to turn to sheer terror as he stared at something behind me. He released his left hand, which he had been using to pin me down and I was able to sit up and turn round. Coming up the side of the barrow from the track below us was the dark horse and rider surrounded by his Yeth hounds.
They are here! They have come! was all I could say. My assailant began to scream and groan, crawling through the heather on his belly as he tried to get away from the spectre before him.
They came closer and closer till the strange black creatures formed a circle around me. The rider too approached and drew up his horse beside me, but this time he turned to face me. He bent silently over me and looked down at me. At that moment the wind caught the side of his hood, taking it backwards off his face. I found myself staring into the hollow eye sockets of a skull; its bony angular features unable to portray any emotion. He stretched out a bony hand in what I took to be a gesture of compassion…

Thursday 2 August 2012

Run 700 - Maunsell Lock - WAM! 007 Theme





Spies:- Pink2Lips,Why bother, Tenzing, Liz, Mark, Big Bird, Dormouse, Just Bull, Phantom, Bangkok, Ferrret, Dripped on, Hansel, Bryony, Moon flower, Gymslip, Grasshopper, DITW, Nick, Zach, Stephan, Dave, Floater & Martini.

I do feel a certain sympathy for anyone that ventured by the car park at the locks on this night. The sight to behold was enough to wither the sternest composure, what were these people? Wet suits, large toilet rolls, executioners, snorkels, masks and matron in a white coat to look after them all. Yes, we must have looked like we were on field trip from the local loony bin. And then they set about running in all directions, calling and hollering.
  We knew what we were up to. So we did just that, followed WAM’s trail, and what a good trail it was. Plenty of variety, orchard first, then big field, into someone’s back garden complete with holiday lodge then onto a lane and into another back yard of smaller dimensions, and on and on and on. 
  Things to note, err, the executioner (Octopussy) kept her mask on throughout the whole trail, said it kept the flies off!  Gymslip’s large toilet rolls kept a tight grip on his neck, which impeded his speed (yeh yeh). Dormouse did a similar run for his 90th birthday (10 years ago). Bangkok knew exactly where she was going, but couldn’t get in front to show us. 
  At the end of the trail we were delivered downstream to the tea rooms, by canal boat, where ample food was laid on and Dripped on presented a wonderful chocolate cake, with Ken’s legs sticking out of it, Grasshopper fancied the shoes and used his proboscis to remove them.
A huge thank you to Dr No for a thoroughly enjoyable evening, and to Moneypenny for the fantastic cake, and of course all you lot for having fun!


Wednesday 1 August 2012

Run 699 - The Cottage Inn, Wembdon - Martini


Run 699, 25th July 2012.     The Cottage Inn Wembdon
        Hare: Martini
Pack: Bangkok, Ferret, WAM, DiTW, JB, Grasshopper, Brush off, Dormouse, Liz, Dave, Bigbird, Mark, Why Bother, Phantom, Withy, Tenzing, Paul, Jackie
Unfortunately WAM! and JB left to their own devices again, were held up for a variety of very good reasons and arrived late, just in time to see the pack disappearing around a corner.   Fortunately for them, Martini was still waiting and showed them the way for the first part where we enjoyed views of the Bristol Channel before catching up with the rest of the pack at an impromptu regroup.  This meant we missed Paul twisting his ankle,( and as he valiantly carried on we had no idea this had happened until we got back to the pub and saw evidence of the offending swollen ankle). 
Although I have frequented many parts of Bridgwater in my former hockey playing days, lots of houses have since been built and so I didn’t recognise where I was until we popped out of a housing estate onto the bank of the river Parrett and ended up in the docks.  On on along the canal and again popping out by the fairfield ( I never knew the canal went under that bit of road) for a bottle of water to share (no spit soup please) and sweeties at the regroup.
Off we set again, with a sneaky detour to the left (those with local knowledge wanted to go right), through more housing estates and over the “new” road.    Here we lost a few hashers who knew their way home, or so they thought!!   On on we went through some park land, coming out at the bottom of Wembdon hill for the sting in the tail, uphill finish.   10 minutes later JB and Mark appeared having taken a “long cut”.  I do wish JB wouldn’t mislead new hashers in this way! 
We were all still hot, the run had been fast (6 miles in 1 hr, 10 mins including the regroups) and the temperature high we sat outside for our drink for the first time this year.    It had been spotted that Bangkok was wearing new shoes so she gamely drank her beer from one of them, as is traditional I am told!!
Thank you for a great run Martini!

Run 698 - The Merry Monk, Monkton Heathfield - JB