BMY’s succinct (somewhat apologetic) hare brief – “It’s a real male hash run, about 8 K’s. That way”. Uncharacteristically, the hare departed from tradition & did not lie. Shit I am tired. However, a technically challenging & almost unanimously acclaimed good & challenging run. Thanks & ON ON CW.
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From Brownfinger:-
After a prolonged season of delightfully cool weather, the more familiar combination of high March temperatures and humidity had recently returned with a vengeance to weigh heavily upon the broad shoulders of the Chiang Mai hashing community. Nevertheless, a goodly number of the male variety braved the dripping conditions to pit their wits against the evil Professor Moriarty’s latest bag of devious, despicable tricks. Doi Saket was the venue, BMY the hare, and the promise of a terrible 8k challenge awaited the assembled pack, one which would no doubt test both cerebral and physical prowess to the utmost limits.
No time to hang about, time was short, a 5 o’clock start – daylight fades fast amidst this hilly, densely forested landscape. But it was not to the hills but towards the road we headed, through a desolate landscape of shiggy, discarded household items (shitty garbage) and broad, dusty trails that had mangy black dogs lying in wait with malicious intent at every turn. Oh you nasty, disgusting hare, but we all stood tall and fought our way manfully through this opening set, onwards towards the beckoning hills and the welcome shade of the forest. Odds were even at this point, I reckon. We had survived the initial onslaught and had picked some checks quite easily and had failed miserably at others. Son of Robin Banks and another young visitor (sorry, I can’t remember his name, only his hair) were blazing the trails, showing us oldies how to run, and it was good to welcome back Cuckold with his lazy, metronomic running style that seems to have him out in front of the pack more times than his apparent rate of forward momentum would suggest.
The next test was a serious one, moving through the hills, sometimes on narrow trails and sometimes on no trail at all. It was here that we fell victim to Moriarty’s most heinous of tricks – a short paper trail, off a circle check, threading through the trees, that ended after thirty metres or so, leaving us all stranded on the side of a hill with no clue where to go next. After the run, the hare suggested it had been a mistake, a failed trail that he had been unable find and clear, but the grin on his face suggested it might not have been a mistake at all . . . you never can tell what is going on in the mind of the inscrutable Professor Byte!
And then the most beautiful part of the run began to unfold. We have run these trails before, but there are so many twists and turns and alternatives to take that the possible combinations are seemingly endless, thus providing numerous opportunities for “the-most-intelligent-hasher’ to play with the very simple minds of the FRBs. And this he did with the art of a master tailor, cutting this way then that way, seemingly cross-stitching the trails . . . what the fuck? At one point he had the first four, and some of the most experienced of our FRB’s, checking off a circle check all in the same direction, apparently mesmerised by the hare’s intent to misdirect. “Fuck me,” I could imagine them saying to one another, “it can’t be any other way but this fucking way. No fucking point checking any other fucking way . . . “And of course they were all fucking wrong!
But then the FRBs found themselves reunited and began to pick the checks reasonably successfully, again finding trail quite easily at times and being totally baffled at others. This ‘stalemate’ continued until we came out of the forest to the road and a powder trail – a check that should have gone right but went left, and another that should have gone straight and went right. A clear win for Moriarty right at the end when everyone thought they knew where he was heading . . . bah, humbug!
So, how did we simple hashers fare against the ‘cerebral’ and ‘physical’ aspects of the mighty Moriarty’s terrible 8k challenge? Well, physically it was indeed tough, my GPS showed 8.9k, all run in hot and humid conditions, but we all survived and came home in reasonable time. And cerebral it certainly was, but again we managed to outfox the fox to almost an equal degree of foxiness. But most importantly, we all agreed that it was a great challenge and a great trail, with those asked what they thought of the trail at the circle refusing to say a bad word about it – ice time abounded for this unthinkable crime.
So well done Moriarty, perhaps you are not as evil as your reputation would have it, but yet again . .