Hash Camp 2023

The first run, which was under the constraint of getting back to camp before the pasties got cold, started at  Peter Tavy. Honestly you could not make it up mismanagement went  to great lengths to hunt down some shiggy, only instead of a landowner keeping us to the footpath ( where is a farmer with a shotgun when you need him ) a delightful farmer  diverted the delicate flowers of the longs, through their yard to avoid the mire. Horby excepted who in the true spirit of hashing embraced the shiggy and completed the course as laid well done. The timing was spot on all arriving back at camp as Wigan Whippet appeared with the steaming hot pasties.

The second run started at The Fox and Hounds territory well known to our senior members. The shorts and longs were separated by a valley so the longs made a fine spectacle from my perspective with the shorts, streaming across the moor opposite us. Someone who shall remain nameless said the number of calls of arrow from the longs suggested that the Apache were on the warpath. The Fox and Hounds did us proud with good food and ale promptly served, and a warm welcome. We gathered round the memorial bench to Ginge, a L2H3 hasher who sadly passed away on hash camp, for a group photo to send to his relatives.

The Third run from Pork Hill car park  zig zagged around the numerous paths in the area. The longs were directed towards Cox Tor and through a culvert under a road, an invitation that those strong of back and knee took up, where they joined with the shorts for the run home. Special mention for Capt’n Oates who led the shorts for a while being the only one seeming able to spot a pile of sawdust, and to Panty Hose and Paddington who completed the short trail and negotiated a tricky crossing of the leet.

Personal highlights:
Putting up Hide and Seek’s tent in a howling gale with pegs that would not tether a reasonably fit hamster. All hands turned out and it must have looked like the Keystone Cops from afar.
The shirts of many colours stag party at the Fox and Hounds, one of them was trying to stick his male appendage in the grooms ear, where upon Pudding Tits informed the assailant it was not very big, the riposte was it’s bigger than yours, a slam dunk for the young man methinks.
The ducks bless their little fluffy heads.( except for the one who should be on the sexual offenders list ) To see the youngsters and families enjoying the camping life with its freedom and comradery. 
The brilliant staff, nothing was too much trouble for them, and a great campsite, the accommodation and facilities spotless.
The lately  discovered wild swimming opportunity in the River Tavy cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey ( derived from Navy speak as so many common expressions are )  If I had not tripped on a boulder I would still only be up to my knees shouting it’s freezing,
Rangi falling over and blaming Biscuits for pushing him,
Snowdrops with a demo of what hardcore hashing is all about.
Whingeing Pom only mentioned proper job once, and set about the tribute with gusto.

Great to have C5, and Mr and Mrs Blobby from Berkshire with us again ( C5 who I heard on one hash saying he’s getting a bit old and for the long and will decide which he will do  at the first long, short split. The next time I saw him he was passing the shorts with  the  long front runners  on the home straight).  Hustling of the first order, don’t play him at poole for money.  

The lovely old world Peter Tavy Inn, for the GMs dinner, you sorely missed Chopper. May your chocks be away and the whirly things give you lift off to fly amongst us soon.

Great times with great people that will live in the memory.