Courtesy of Brownfinger:-
Cumalot’s run from the usual Thai village behind Doi Kham. A huge turnout with Itchy and Suckit bringing a truck load of visitors from their guest house with them. Apparently, Suckit had instructing the Beer Monster, Knockout, to bring more beer whilst she was already on her way to the run. Luckily, having learned from previous alcohol droughts, Knockout already had a reserve stash of the amber nectar with her, so all was well – there would be plenty of beer for all.
So, with a large cast of experienced, virgin and returning hashers, we headed off to the inevitable hills. And up and up we went, up a very nice and very steep trail. Sex Pistol was having a storming run, finding true trail from the checks and then kindly stepping aside for others to set the pace. She has become a great runner and such a good addition to the FRB pack.
When we couldn’t possibly go any higher without causing a hazard to low flying aircraft, we finally hit the down trail, which was an ankle-twisting, knee-grinding, stone-strewn, generally hazardous trail, that tested the skills and joints of us all to the very limit. Surprisingly perhaps, there were no serious injuries, and personally I loved the challenge, but the run would probably have been better set the other way around, using this difficult trail going up and the good trail coming down. However, we were to learn in the circle that it was all HRA’s fault because he had insisted on helping Cumalot to set the run despite her wish to set it alone.
There were not many opportunities for good checks on this run, but the hares did there best with what they had, and a couple of them caught me out, especially at the top of the hill when I checked too far along the top and found it almost impossible to pass those who had found the narrow and hazardous downhill trail. Coming onto the wide dirt trail towards the end, Graven and co hit a false trail and for some reason they didn’t see it (?) or kept on running down the hill for some other reason. However, when I got there, there was no paper at the FT sign and we could not find any paper on the ground that joined the true trail. Anyway, we eventually found true trail and I managed to nail the last couple of checks and headed on home. And there sat a smirking Alice, claiming to have run the full rambo trail without disturbing the checks, coming home a full ten minutes ahead of everyone else. Do we believe him? Well sure we do, if ‘rambo’ is replaced with ‘wimp’, and if he was a monk instead of your usual truth-devoid hasher – good job Alice 
Cumalot is always good for a laugh in the circle, and she did a great job of working her circle to the best effect Beer flowed and laughter echoed around the village much to the amusement of the gathered local inhabitants – humans as well as dogs. Suckit pleaded so hard for the male wings that TMB finally succumbed to his beer-fuelled charms – that’s three in a row, isn’t it Suckit. Don’t know how you are going to get the wings at the outstation next week, but ………
Good job Cumalot and HRA, but nobody was quite sure what we had done to deserve such bone-crunching punishment on the trail. Maybe it was all HRA’s fault???
Courtesy of Alice:-
Cumalot teamed up with some arbitrary geezer she repeatedly called ‘Colin’ to pay homage to a Pigshit run in exactly the same area and using exactly the same trails. Not that I’m complaining, it was really great. Especially as jet lag and 14 hours sleep in the preceding 72 allowed me to take the W option when faced with the choice.
Good to see Pigshit and Bone Hur back, good to just be back. Suckit press ganged his residents and filled the back of his flatbed with approximately 4 Bristolians and 2 Indians. These virgins got a special tete a tete hare brief from ‘Colin’ before the real deal.
And we were off. A FT or just the FRBs messing up meant I was infront of Poo and TMB after 5 mins even though I was walking and that didn’t change too much. I chatted with Piggie and Cheap Shagger before my attention was caught by one of the Indian dudes, Mohito?, in Suckit’s old trainers taped up with silver duct tape. Class.
Up and up thru the forest, gently winding ever upwards. Well marked with C’c on paper strips. The significance of the C I missed.
At the W-R split it was obvious the trail just went up but not so clear what they’d done with the W so I jogged off on that on my tod and kept going til the end, checking all the circles by myself and leaving them intact for the FRBs who’d come hurtling down the hill after me and hopefully never catch me.
The W went down into the gully and up the spur and around until it rejoined the R. I was ahead of everyone and my only concern was not being caught by the FRBs. On probably 5 of the 9 circles I guessed correctly and on the others I went back after 120 and guessed right second time. Not one double fcuk up, how unAlice like.
Trail led to a wider gully and stream and a well marked route down on quartzite rock. Gleefully I scampered downhill thinking of the tribulations behind me. A Juicy FT brought me up short and my only consolation was the thought that the pack would doubtless do likewise, as I trudged back up. Across the stream and three paths. Down to the left, up to the right but I chose middle and up…surely that would reward me? Wrong. However I saw a wider path up ahead and joining that turned down the hillside to meet the true trail after 200m.
From then on it was mostly down, steady jogging, supping water
And vague memories of Piggie and Does Nothing’s sets here.
Eventually I saw ON IN in powder and turned onto the tarmac to see Bone Hur walking in.
The look on Suda, Cumalot and HRA’s face when I steamed in after about 45 mins.
Got lost and came back? queried HRA looking nervously at his timepiece. As if.
Good job hares, thanks for a lovely W trail inbetween the true trails in and out.