The buzzard in higher resolution (original uncompressed) video

Bird Blue's favourites

Bird Blue's favourites
'Tiny Toad'

Bird Blue's favourites

Bird Blue's favourites
'Mr Cruisedog on watch'

Bird Blue's favourites

Bird Blue's favourites
My Vixen

YIPPY I OH ... (The sad tale of Boozing Bird Blue)

Mr Cruisedog in his bunk bed


A rare photo of Preconderotous - which this site is named after. Everyone told me that I 'couldn't' name a chihuahua that but it was meant to be. He answered to 'Precon' and his son had half his name - De Rotous ... so long ago has been their passing, but his name lives on for all to see ...

Strange that Vimeo/YouTube vids ALWAYS work embed. in side panel, but not Blogger!


Saturday 7 August 2010

Outside the Crown & Sceptre

... about 18:45 hrs Saturday August 7th ...

KC & Mr Cruisedog roam

... where the livestock play ...

KC's settling in

... quite nicely now ...

A naming at the Palk Arms August 2nd ...

... and for U S of A viewers, it's a goodie ... David apparently went out with a young Carrie Fisher (see photo) and so there was a name 'type-cast' for him ... 'Princess Lay Her' - but as you can hear, there was another name being touted - 'DID You Lay Her?' ... make up your own minds which one was the best ...

Friday 6 August 2010

Palk Arms August 2: Hashers (and harriets) will be hashers

Palk Arms Aug 2: A lowering of the tone

... if that's possible ...


Advanced Streaming Format clip from August 2nd - RG ...

Thursday 5 August 2010

A case of mistaken identity

Each week, a 'downdown' is awarded to hashers for 'misdemeanours' on the trail. These can be for many reasons: Failing to check the trail, falling A over T, clumsy parking of vehicle, complimentary DD's for guests or long-missing returning hashers, getting lost (a common occurrence) and a host of minor, true or completely fabricated stories ... get the picture? The vast majority are flimsy at best, but every now and then, there are tales of unmitigated stupidity which are so incredible that they must be true ... So, if you're sitting comfortably. I'll tell you a stawwry ...

Having taken a lift to the regroup in the back of Forrest's 4 X 4 and residing there for about 40 minutes, it transpired that the longs were going to be a very long time making the cider & fruit stop, so, not wishing to tarry further and needing to be at the bar rather urgently, the Supreme Pillock had decided to leg it back, up up the hill and down, down the other side to the Palk - about 10 minutes worth, Forrest had said.

Hindered by carrying 3 cams in a camera bag, the summit was duly conquered in fair old time AND, there was a ruddy great pile of spilled wheat by the side of the road ...

Enter stage right in his chariot came Snotrag, who espied the somewhat bizarre sight of Bluebird kneeling in the road, shovelling handfuls of wheat into his camera bag ... The Pillock waved frantically, trying to flag Snotrag down for a lift, but Snotrag merely smiled and waved and drove on ...

A few seconds later, after resuming his journey back to the pub, Bluebird looked back and espied a 4 X 4 emerging from the narrow track ... "Oh bu**er!" shouted Bluebird who knew that Forrest wouldn't give him a lift and that long run back up the hill had been for nought ...

Hurling his cap to the ground, he had then rolled around in the middle of the road, beating his fists theatrically on the ground ...

The 4 X 4 had slowly approached and it was then that the awful truth hit the madder than the maddest Hatter at a convention of Mad Hatters ... It WASN'T Forrest, but an identical 4 X 4 in virtually the same colour ... !! The driver slowly drew alongside and gave the Idiot the strangest look as he drove past ... OH CRINGE!

On relating the tale to Deep Semen, he confirmed that he'd seen the 4 X 4 go past ...

The 'scrabbling for wheat' would normally have been sufficient for a downdown, but the 'mistaken identity' confirmed it ...

Just prior to Bin Laden nominating, a boootiful pint of Gidley's Valley had been brought to Bluebird by Flip Flop - hence the 'proxy' deferring of the downdown ... sigh

PALK ARMS AUG 2: Let's thank the bar - many times, Theresa

The first order of play each week is to thank the bar for the downdowns (free pints generously provided by the pub) and also the hare(s) for their efforts in laying the trail. Extended thanks were given to the Palk Arms management for also providing FREE GRUB - which always goes down well with that baying beer-fueled mob that are affectionately known as hashers ...

Inside the marquee

... at Ging Gang & Goolie's spectacular residence, high up above Burgh Island ... but enough of that, let's get down to serious business - where's the beer, Bertie ...

On the Red Dress Run 6

... we've rapido exitoed (a few nasty moments when some occupants glanced through their windows at us) the caravan park and are now climbing towards Ging Gang & Goolie's splendid On Down ... but first Bluebell needs to return to the chariot to make urgent running-repairs ... take those ridiculous pink, lacy topped stockings off for a start and change into hold-ups - it's the only way to go my darlings ...

On the Red Dress Run 5

... and Bluebell needs a plan to head 'em off at the pass ... and lovely Vindaloo knows how ...

On the Red Dress Run 4

... and an endless stream of red assails the eye ...

On the Red Dress Run 3

... and a bottleneck ensues as scores of red dressed hashers collide ... the collective 'OHHHH' comes when a hulking great hasher steps on a poor little pooch ... the pain, the pain ...

On the Red Dress Run 2

and we catch up with Bobbibelle, who's wearing a fetching little halter-neck number ... at the end of the clip, you can spot Piddler quite easily, as he's obviously raided his granny's wardrobe for that get up ...

On the Red Dress Run

... but there's a problem, darlings, Bluebell's pink lace-topped stockings are falling down - she should have worn a suspender belt ... sigh

Red Dress Circle

... way, way out at Ringmore ...

It's a disaster, darlings ...

... having skidded to a halt in Ringmore car park just seconds before the circle is convened for the Red Dress Run, all is confusion with the Teign Valley contingent - well, Bluebell, at least ...

Wednesday 4 August 2010

They arrive at the regroup

Palk Arms action

... and here we are, after a 'hare-raising' drive (Forrest driving) , at the designated regroup ... time to unpack the goodies which include a delicious (all commented on it) refreshing sweet cider, assorted fruit (healthy option - no Berties for us porkers), water and ... the ruin of me - Fox's Buttery Crumble bisquits ... I kept saying 'stop me, they're no good for me' - but no one did ... sigh


Oh, the enormity of it all ...


Checking the gear ... and Gromit wants to look good out there, t't' teddy bear ...


... Registration time ...


Luxurious accommodation awaits ...


Friday morning and the boys are on the road again ...

Tuesday 3 August 2010


... on board with the boys ... honed to perfection, in - dare I say it - 'peak' condition


Thursday evening ... and the boys are all of 30 minutes into their adventure ... and confidence is High, I say again, confidence is ...

Running repairs to the trail (compressed to AVI)

... en routey to the regroup in the back of Forrests's battlewagon - hotly pursued by becycled Numbnuts, we halt briefly to reinstate a check which has been covered by an errant tractor - which has also dumped a load of wheat on the road - Bluebird notes ...

Let's get organised (original HD format)

While they're checking out the trail, the walking wounded and 'others' are awaiting Forrest - and his 4 X 4 awaits ...

Searching for clues

... they're off from the Palk arms and searching for clues ...

Enter The Hare (2010)

Heeere's Forrest ...

Circle message

Circle from the Palk Arms

Here we are at Hennock

Monday 2 August 2010

He fears no beer ...

... Melon Picker in fetching and highly approved of Red Wear - Mouldy Dick, Wickdipper and Manpig are behind (photo courtesy of Flying Fokker)

A helluva Red Dress to run in ...

... our Soapy and Bin Laden charity running (photo courtesy of Flying Fokker)

That's more like it ... the Red Dress Run

... at Isca's Roman Away Weekend - the blokes aren't much cop but the girls are ... (photo courtesy Flying Fokker)

A pair of well-known Roman wallies

... Up Pompeii Manpig and I Claudius Melon Picker (photo courtesy of Flying Fokker)

The many wives of Senator Bin Laden

... Bin Laden, Soapy and Palmolive en route during the Isca Roman Weekend (photo courtesy Flying Fokker)

Purple toga centurion love ...

... on Totnes bridge during the Isca Roman Away Weekend ... Wide Receiver and Painted Pussy (photo courtesy of Flying Fokker)

'I Ubend' and patrician Hi Di Hi

... steam-train bound on the Isca Roman Away Weekend (photo courtesy of Flying Fokker)

Sunday 1 August 2010


Took Gromit & Gormless on a little jog over the 10 highest Peaks in the Lake District covering a distance of 45 miles with 18000' ascent on Saturday 31st July starting at 04:00 going up Helvellyn. Now this would be a real challenge when you consider Gromit has never been up a mountain before (unless you count Houndtor)!

52 started this inaugural charity event in what were reasonable conditions with cloud on the summits but otherwise dry with a fresh breeze on the tops. Shat Nav joined us on the first three peaks that went well and in good time with no difficulty. There followed a long trek up an appropriately named valley called "The Bog" to reach High Raise, while not one of the ten highest tops it is still a summit in its own right. As we started a traverse over to Angle Tarn the cloud started to blow off Bowfell allowing Gromit the treat of seeing the big mountain he had to climb! I wouldn't say he jumped up and down with joy but was not intimidated by it and set about its ascent with a grin (or was it a grimace) of determination while Gormless responded with his usual enthusiastic exclamation of "Wow". Once we arrived on the summit the mist came back to greet us to make sure we couldn't see the fantastic views from the summit. Thereafter, the rest of the day saw the realisation of the MET Office forecast as bands of heavy rain swept through (I must bash up Mini Baah from the MET Office for not generating the better forecast for us that I had ordered). Combined with thick fog limiting visibility often down to as little as 10 metres, going was going to be slow.

I was in my element taking great delight in the navigational challenges as we wound our way around the next three summits, taking in two more for good measure (we had to cross them rather than it being my devious delight in making it more fun) although they did decline the offer to go up Ill Crag.

Gromit was understandably now finding the going to be increasingly challenging. He coped well in the dry, but once the boulder fields (which constitute the footpath) became wet it was like someone has smeared margarine over them (butter is too expensive and fattening). This resulted in his lack of experience on mountains causing him to find it hard to keep his balance and remain upright. Rather than fall and hurt himself we sensibly moved at a slower pace but luckily it wasn't too cold, despite the obvious wind chill. This was no problem apart from the small matter of poor Shat Nav who was sheltering behind the Mountain Rescue box at Styhead Pass, patiently waiting for us as he froze in the stormy weather that took as much pervasive delight blowing over the Pass as it did over the summits. He had kindly brought up our packed lunch which was something that kept us going as our bodies started to grumble from being subjected the their thousandth Gel in what started to feel like the same number of hours.

As we approached Scafell Pike (England's highest mountain) the crowds of people who had got lost on their way to Blackpool increased. Despite the poor weather we had to queue to get the proverbial summit photo.

The next summit Scafell is a dog leg and I warned Gormless and Gromit that hereafter every step we took would have to be retraced to this point before we would descend to the Corridor Route. There was not a moments hesitation from the group about going on which is a measure of their true grit (or stupidity).

I opted for the Foxes Tarn route as theoretically the safest as Lord's Rake is reputed to be in a dangerous state. This proved to be a mistake that I will never make again. The footpath up to Foxes Tarn isn't so much a path as a waterfall! Once we had ascended it passing the occasional dead sheep, Gromit asked in an agitated state "We haven't got to go back down that have we?" To which I took no pleasure in reminding them that I had said that we had to retrace each and every step. Now a wise man might have reassessed going back down Lords Rake but I am not that wise (but seriously, not having gone up it first made me reluctant to go down it in thick mist and risking going the wrong way).

Having slowly but safely found our way back to Scafell Pike we had passed another group still on their way up and met up with another group who had gone via Lords Rake. We stayed together as a group as we stumbled our way across boulder fields until we finally reached the Corridor Route that contours around to Styhead Pass. G & G started to complain that this wasn't good enough, this was far too nice a path and what was that below the mist, not a view! Luckily when we got to Styhead Tarn the weather turned on us again so they cheered up as they realised that the fun has only just started and that the challenge was far from over. Oddly having only waited for 4 hours Shat Nav had abandoned his post and left us with no lunch, the slacker (seriously having waited for half that time would have been kind of him - let alone 4 hours). Knowing he was going to see us at Honistor Pass (and trusting that the loaned GPS unit might help him avoid going to Hard Knott Pass) we set off along the Climbers Route contouring around the SW flank of Great Gable. In the mist and wet it was far from easy to find and even harder to follow but eventually we did reach Beck Head and so a safe crossing to Honister Pass. We had wisely decided that time was against us and was going to retire, not knowing that everyone else had also taken the wise choice of retiring. Our hats go off to those teams starting and successfully completing the Bob Graham Round today in these challenging conditions. I feel that under the circumstances, combining both the poor visibility, wet and slippery rocks and the fact that Gromit had never been on a mountain before, we can justifiably say that while we did not complete the whole challenge, we did NOT fail. How can going some 28 miles, 10000' ascent and descent, crossing 7 or the 10 highest peaks and 3 other summits in 17 hours be considered a failure!

Sir Limpalot & Ben Dover opted to not do the dog leg over to Pillar, but being as mad as me got a lift to Keswick and then finished the day by going up Skiddaw successfully completing 9 of the 10 Peaks, well done you mad fools!

Unfortunately we got stuck with three others that had joined our group who we had to repatriate to their cars. This resulted to our being forced to stop at a Pub where I had to force pints of beer down Gromit, Gormless and Shat Nav, who can now live up to the quote on our custom made shirts "Running a REALLY LONG WAY to the pub".

On On to next year and better weather for a second successful attempt. Now the training starts, what shall we do next, not sure yet but I am sure I will think of something.....


PS anyone else who wants to join us let me know.

PPS this report will later be supplemented by photographs (most of white mist) and Gromit & Gormless will write their own accounts of this massive undertaking.

PPPS we hope to have raised over £1000 for MacMillan Cancer Support and Water Aid. Thank you to all our sponsors and its not too late to sponsor us now.

Sent by Stewart Bondi using BlackBerry® from Orange






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