Welcome to the Chiang Mai Sunday Hash House Harriers (CSH3) – to avoid the songkran traffic a select group of hashers decided to run on Sunday. Missing out on church, Pussy Whisperer set the run with Blows Herself helping. I decided to head along late – it was Maejo afterall (although the website had removed the directions, I did check an email to make sure). Honestly driving to Maejo, I wasn’t sure if I would find hash signs or just head home again, but sure enough the group gathered by the small shelter on the way to the Tiger’s Head.
A small group, that was swelled slightly by the arrival of the Leaky Faucet clan as we set off on the run. The air did seem clearer, but it wasn’t long before I could taste the smoke, and I started questioning why I was there. The pollution is getting better, but my cough has come back again tonight… The first few checks were fun, and I was mostly near the trail for quite a while. The Maejo forest has such a network of trails that all interweave, and when Brownie and I got one wrong, it didn’t worry us, we looked at the old paper, carried on and found the Wimp trail, and then before you knew it we were back on trail. A couple of times I paralleled, indeed I spent most of the run, close to the trail…
That trail was devilishly sneaky – seriously good job from too fairly inexperienced hares – who taught you? V checks in the right places, and the checks had us all unsure – really good job. I got a lot wrong, and then a bit right, but the zig zags were devilishly good – I would be proud of that set! Finally I got one check so wrong the by the time it was called I was hacking my way up the wrong hill surrounded by shiggy. I assessed my options and none were good so I hacked my way in the general direction of the calls, only to find my way blocked by a couple of ravines. Navigating around I got to the wimp trail, went backwards and got to the split following most of the pack by now. Some more zigs and zags.
Finally I knew the trail had to head up the ridge line – there was no avoiding it (or was there?) The trail turned left, I turned right, and after 40m or so I paused, contemplating… I was tired, my lungs felt smokey, I knew the trail had to go up the hill, I knew I was recovering from 10+ days sickness after my last pollution run. Behind me Blows Herself called out wondering where I was going – was she lost on her own trail?
I opted to head back, and as soon as I found trail again, (cutting out a zig, or a zag), I found Leaky Faucet with a confused family. The hare brief had been precise, but no use if you missed it. They were very grateful to follow me back to trail. I avoided the hill, but promptly got the next couple of checks wrong, so got further behind anyway. Damn those hares cut it close with that trail. Very nicely done, but very risky too. The real FRBs came charging past as I walked my way back for a beer.