Category Archives: CH3 – Monday

The drive to the A was through a huge storm, but the skies cleared as I approached the runsite. HRA the hare, so I was optimistic. A reasonable turnout, and after getting all the vehicles parked the hare brief set us off. Shagless was like a gazelle! I’ve never seen him move like that as he sprinted up the first hill – only to get the first check wrong. The first couple of checks were tricky, I did find them, but it took a while. Up and down, and back up again, just to go back down again. I wasn’t feeling great, sneezing and coughing my way, and then getting the next check completely wrong, only for Shagless to sprint up another hill ahead of us. He was on fire!

I want some of what Shagless has been eating. Sloppy, CW, Piggy & I tried to chase him down, but he kept nailing the checks. Sloppy gave up looking anywhere else and focused his attention on the chase, finally reeling Shaggy in. We past the Wimp Rambo split, and cut through a gully back to the road. It had to be right, cos turning left would take you to the football field. From here I hit a wall, and plodded back down the road to the cars. The first part was a really interesting set, and I’m sure the 2nd half would have been too. But I was feeling shit, and I still am!

The hash is a social club – billed as a drinking club with a running problem, but essentially a social club that does a bit of running and drinking. “The loneliness of the long distance runner” (a book & a film from the 50s and 60s), does highlight the possibility of an oxymoron there between running and being social. We all run at our own paces, and apart from a brief chat as a faster runner flies by us, there is little camaraderie to liven the grueling slog of going for a run. Many of us don’t really enjoy running. How could it be possible for faster runners to run with slower runners? Perhaps the faster runner could slow down? Or the slower runner speed up? Or might there be another way to solve this conundrum? Along comes the hash! It’s not a running club, and it’s not a hiking club, even though we do much the same thing running clubs or hiking clubs do. So where is the difference? The brilliance of a check – the humble circle check, the sneaky false trail, a V, a cross, even a beer stop. The cunning tools available to the hare to liven up a run – to let runners of all abilities run the same course, but somehow faster runners run further than walkers, and yet arrive around the same time. The checks make the run part of a hash sociable, and the beers make the circle sociable.

And so to today’s hash, or run, from the football field on the Sameong Road. Familiar area, and the constant nagging worry on the drive to the runsite is whether we will be punished with the stairs. After Saturday’s ‘epic’ run, I was still trying to recover. The hare staggered out of a local tavern to slur through a hare brief and point us off in a vague general direction. We were following blue paper – a particular shade of blue, selected for its ability to naturally blend into a leafy environment. At the first check I determined that we weren’t to be punished by the stairs, and took off along the road. I got a bit ahead of the other FRBs, but there were 4 of us together as we jogged down to the wimp rambo split.

CW, Piggy, Poo and I, and when I saw the W/R split I was inconsolable. By the rubber wall, with the rambo’s pointed off the ‘wrong’ side of the wall. We were 2.5km in, and running around the rubber wall is another 8km – a terry-ble idea for a hare. I was ready to take the wimp trail, but Piggy spurred me on by questioning my manhood. Shortly afterwards the trail turned abruptly right and steeply up hill. So if we weren’t going around the wall, it probably meant we were going up to the temple and back down the steps? And even worse idea! The climb set in – no relief – no opportunity to pause and enjoy the view while checking for trail, because the hare completely forgot about checks. When the trail leveled off (briefly) there were trails going left, right and straight. An opportunity to catch up with the other 3 who had taken off ahead of me up the hill? NOPE! No check, just more trail leading towards the next hill – and away from the temple. When finally there was a check, either way would work and Piggy & CW continued to extend their lead.

I caught brief glimpses of Poo as we passed so many spots that would have made excellent checks, and very rarely, faintly heard a call. It was lonely and I was tempted to give up and take a more direct route back. I persevered though, and at the bottom of the hill, we followed the wall the 2.5km back to where the wimp rambo split had been. From here I was sorely tempted to go straight back in, but reluctantly plodded off on the wimp trail – any checks there may have been (one), were long since broken, while again we passed several places where the front runner would have got it badly wrong, as the trail turned again away from the A site. Finally we got to the bamboo bridge, and I attempted to cross it. My legs too shaky, and generally too weak, so I took the long way around to avoid it.

10KM… 6 CHECKS… I should point out the route was great – some good views, almost all trail, very little shiggy. There were even great places to confuse the front of the pack. With only 4 FRBs it was a tremendous amount of work to set, and had there been more checks on that route with only 4 FRBs we could have been struggling by the end.

Fly By

11km south on canal road, okie, the end of the world, but I’ll do it! We set off and Kwazi called the first circle seeing paper from some way off and ignoring standard FRB protocol. We all ran off towards the burning place, and quickly had another circle. I followed Chuckie, and we were correct. Somehow I got first choice at the next circle and nailed it. I called loudly and kept running to a V check. Getting there first I picked right. Turns out it was a pivotal V check, but I would know nothing about it for some time.

I pressed on off to the right, and hit a dead straight stretch. Looking over my shoulder I was waiting for the pack to appear. They never did. WTF? I was confident I wasn’t screwing things up. There was clean, new trail clearly marked, just as the hare brief promised… So I carried on. When I got to a junction, sure enough there was a circle check, but sure enough I could see paper in the distance to the left. I kept jogging, in the zone of an FRB.

Then there was another T-junction, we had to be breaking left, and not far left was a runsite we’ve used before so I set off there to check. Damnit!!! 150m and that white thing hanging off a tree was not trail. Back the other way and nothing. This could turn from the perfect hash to a nightmare if I wasn’t careful. I was so tempted to just head in the general direction of where I thought it must go, but there was no sound from behind – I had time, so I kept looking, and finally got it… OnOn! It was going the right direction, so I pressed on, alone, lonely.

The next few checks I picked off first choice and was cruising along. I remembered these trails, but up ahead that was a new wall, or dam, or what ever the hell it was? I followed trail as it cut up around and back down. Around what? Around a tent… In the tent there appeared to be a bunch of Thai guys and school girls drinking. As I avoided the scene, I couldn’t help but notice that Cuckold was sat in the middle calling out “Family”. This run was strange enough, while I was lonely running, I wasn’t too sure what Cuckold had going on over there, so I pressed on.

We were so close to home, but the nasty hare took us off in the other direction, and now some checks were kicked out. The kicked out circles were my first indication of the monumental fuckup that had gone on. Somehow CW, Piggy, and HRA had gone wrong at the “V” check and done the last couple of km of trail. Cuckold had been with them till he found his LaoKhao stop. That meant the last couple of km or so was following kicked out checks (even though I didn’t believe one of them). If you just follow the paper guys, it was a great run! Good Job Mr. Poo.

Trust me, the run was infinitely better managed than the complete incompetence at the OnOnOn.

Me running alone

Horny, Horny, Horny… Back to Maerim… It was hot, and I really didn’t feel like running around, so popped open a beer mid afternoon, with no intention of going to the hash. Very last minute decision, I found myself in the car headed towards the runsite. Why oh why? What was I thinking?

We set off and the hare had us climbing steps and jumping off walls in no time. Was this a road run? I got a couple of checks right, and then was behind as we headed towards the river… Was this Skidmark in disguise? The hare was all about his Skiddy Sticks, but surely Skiddy hadn’t set the run? Sure enough we were headed for the Ping River crossing. Chuckie and HRA shook their heads in disbelief and bailed out, leaving the FRBing to myself, Piggy, Scooby and Poo, although to be fair the checks were tricky enough that the pack were kept together quite neatly.

I couldn’t figure out which way we were going to break, but it definitely wasn’t going to be the promised 5km. I start to run out of steam after 4k in this heat, so with Scooby sprinting around like a teenage boy on Soi 6, and Piggy prodding away this was a tough animal to figure out. It weaved one way and then the other, mostly on road, but some excellent checks. I finally got ahead, and of course, completely screwed up. One check had us foxed for quite a while, surely it couldn’t be further to the right? Finally I spotted CW & HRA trying to hide behind a bush, the other side of a rice field. Hmmmmz… I thought I was onto something until I found the fucking canal on the other side of the rice field. Damnit, Horny got me again the wrong side of the fucking dyke.

I was thwarted, I headed back across the rice field towards the road, but taking a different route put me in the middle of a wet paddy that I had to get around. Finally back of the tarmac, I took the shorter route back, ending up weary and some way behind the FRBs. Good job Horny. Shame there was so much concrete, but some stellar checks in there – I love it!

Kwazi teamed up with Square Rooter to set something a little different in Maejo – so proud of their efforts that emails were sent, but later emails warned people to take torches… Uhoh! At the A site we were told it was a B2A and we would need transport to the start. Hopping in the back of the songthaew we followed Kwazi, as he promptly got lost. The hare couldn’t find the start to his own run…

Luckily some of us know the area well, and Sloppy and I had a good idea what was in store when we finally pulled up at the front of Praphat’s Farm. The hare then took the walkers on another km or so to give them a headstart. We were off, and straight through the farm to join the walkers on the trail that runs along the bottom of the hills. It’s a lovely little running trail, but it was bloody hot. We turned abruptly left and sadly climbed the temple steps to continue on the trail. That was hot and I was feeling it by the top. Somehow HRA & CW managed to run down a rocky path, and when I rounded the next corner they were well ahead. I did manage to catch up again, but I was spent. When the trail headed back into the mountains, I figured out I knew where I was and took a short cut back.

Great concept, and nice running trails, it is just too hot for me this season…

Wow… Hot season has kicked in. I arrived as the harebrief was in full swing, and quickly changed. They set off while I grabbed some water. Shit it was hot. Brownie thought better of it, and decided not to go out to run, while I plodded up the road passing Sunspot.

The first few checks were pretty straight forward and the pack stretched out ahead of me. Did I mention the heat? I laboured up the first hill slowly picking off the pack one by one, finally catching up at a check that Piggy called from down the hill to the left. I followed him and Graven, only to get to a False Trail. Suckit took charge, and we were heading towards the road. Surely the hare wouldn’t make us drive all the way up the hill, only to run us back down to the road? That is exactly what he had in mind, and we had a long stretch of tarmac ahead. Before we got there, I heard a thunderous thud just behind me, joined with a yelp of pain, so went back to check Cuckold was able to get up from his faceplant. When I joined them on the road it was stretched out ahead of me, and I was already hot and tired. As I passed Anal Vice & Robin Banks we discussed what was left, and how we had to go back over the mountain to get back…

Finally we turned left, and as the trail broke up the hill to the right, I am sure I heard a call to the left. I tracked left and found a lovely trail heading up the hill. At the top, I met up with Piggy for the descent. He, Suckit and Graven charged down the hill at pace leaving me alone until Son of Robin came steaming past and back to the A.

Cheers HRA – geez it is getting hot!

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 . .

Anal Vice teamed up with BrownFinger for my 100th run! Yay! Wings in the bag! I arrived with moments to spare and set off with Chuckie towards the first check. An excellent circle to start with – so many options, and my choice was the not so obvious little path that cuts over a weir and up a small cliff. Sure enough, I was right, and broke into a bit of a trot. Not far later there was another circle, and although I was wrong to begin with (heading to the left) I spied paper off up the hill to the right. Crossing back across the dried up canal, I ducked in front of Stiff & Chuckie as we all headed that way.

CW & I pushed on up the hill, with Stiff keeping in touch behind – no sign of the rest of the pack. We drifted off trail for a moment and Stiff caught up at a V check. CW had managed to pass me when we lost paper, so he got the choice. Damnit! He took the tempting trail heading up the hill, leaving me with an ugly descent into a canyon. I was just clambering out the other side when I heard the “Check Back” call from CW. I pressed on listening to the conversation behind me. The next few checks I got right, including the check where we had to go back to the trail that cut off to the left before the circle.

Things were going well, so I pushed on. Finally a V check, and I picked left, regretting it immediately, but regretting it more when I saw the check back. Damnit – back up the hill, and CW ducked ahead of me – nobody else around… I pushed on and caught CW – but another couple of circles I just followed CW as there didn’t seem to be another option. Finally we got to a False Trail. It was a very strange check. I predicted the false trail, and had found some back checks before CW found the FT. Very odd. What were the bars for? First I cut up the hill to the right and then I ran over to a trail to the left that we’ve used before, but no sign of paper. I ran back to the main trail and explored up the hill to the right again – still no sign of anyone else.

Down to a circle check, and the obvious trail was right, while left would take us back to the false trail check backs. A hidden trail straight on was my choice and I set off. I was right and pushed on. Where was the rest of the pack? Another circle – tempting to go to the right, but I was starting to 2nd guess (or 3rd guess) these hares. I was deep into FRB psychology & picked the way to the left, back towards our other trail – nailed it! I’ve got these hares in my pocket – I could run it blind! A V-check – yeah right! I hardly even noticed it as I swept by to the right (to go left would only meet up with the check I got wrong). This was it, this was the dream! The perfect hash! Nailing all the checks! I was the hash god!

I ran along, and when the paper turned left, but the main trail went right, my confidence was exploding. Of course it would be a false trail – I set off down, but no sign of paper… 60m down, damnit, back up, and 30m past the corner was a circle. Arrrrgh! Not a false trail, it’s a circle check, and I only got to 90m! Back down the hill again, 100m, 110m, 120m… Damnit! I had to go back up and the pack would surely be on my ass any moment? Paper heading up again – “ONON” – silence from behind. OK, I’m still good! 😉

Emerged onto a larger trail at a corner. I was 50/50 – left or right. Right went down hill, left was a little up… I picked left, but after 120m or so, knew I was wrong. Ugh! I trudged back to the junction, and still no response when I called OnOn. Dipped down, and back up to the road – a brief stretch with no paper, and then another circle at the “road”. Again, left was up, and right was down. This time I went with right and jogged down only to find no paper, and have to climb back up again. Sure enough there was the paper up over the hill – and still nothing behind – WTF had everyone done???? From here the rest was pretty clear – we’d go back in on the out trail, so I jogged on in, and congratulated the hares on a fantastic job – it really was a great trail! I grabbed a soft drink and started debriefing the trail. 5 minutes… 10 minutes…. 15 minutes…. we started wondering were everyone was… Finally the pack came in grumbling about the lack of trail… At least Suckit seemed to find it as well – but he was running solo as well.

You have got to love this hashing shit!