Category Archives: CH3 – Monday

The last run of the year, and for new years the male hash opened it’s doors to the ladies and the turn out was good! Skiddy and Sups had promised us a gentle short run and they didn’t disappoint. From the Ag Centre (again) there were trails all over the place – the hares would have to be careful not to intercept either Byte My Yahoo or Graven Image’s recent runs.

It was into the Ostrich farm today where we met a herd of buffalo before Meat Eater went chasing after a bunch of sheep. The checks were short, and largely predictable, so the pace quick. A brief loop out into the growing fields before back over the hill to the A bucket. It wasn’t enough for Poo, No Meat or Lucy who went for a 2nd lap while the rest of us collapsed into our hangovers.

Dick the Boy Wonder arranged some Hash Olympics for during the circle and everyone was duly confused. A good warm up for the end of year celebrations in town.

Frozen Dick teamed up with HRA to set this year’s Loi Kateoy run – starting from an obscure carpark along a dodgy backstreet – probably appropriate as the street has a reputation for ladyboys, and happens to be where Mr. Poo, Frozen Dick & HRA live. Coincidence? Unlikely…

From there we took in the hash pub before heading along some quiet backstreets to Riva bar. We briefly past through the parade, but took care to hide in the shadowy backstreets in our unusual garb. From Riva it was to Eurodiner and then Next Place, before back to the hidden carpark via Loi Kroh road.

LIVE HARE! Good work Semen – I love this shit! He looked particularly nervous, and begged us to give him 6 minutes headstart. There was little chance of us catching him, but asking for 6 minutes is certainly more admirable than laying a false trail ahead of time (Mr. Poo).

I actually ran up the hill at the start, all the way to the temple, only to find the trail actually cut off back down and looped back to within a hundred yards of the A. Semen could probably hear us insulting him as he laid trail! Some of the trail seemed familiar, but I for some reason I kept checking just off trail. Handsome, renamed as “Viral Sores” did a good job of confusing us further as the hare laid circle after circle after circle. Sensible plan.

For me, the trail fell apart as we appeared to go into the rice fields… I checked way too far on Square Rooter’s insistence. Last time I listen to him! The cunning bastard hare had hooked me proper and looped back to the right. Goddamnit, when I got out of the rice fields, I must have been half a km behind. It took me a km or so to catch Superman and Tip Toe! Hats off to the set!

I gradually caught people, and we hit the canal, a familiar sight and a bit of deja vu – Semen knows these trails, and I can remember them too. Semen was long gone though and already tucking into a well deserved beer! A random circle check had Skiddy checking in a field to the right – he was whimpering like a bitch as he tried to find his way out. Humperdick came running back leaving Poo to check the obvious trail and call OnOn when he eventually found paper.

I nearly caught up with Poo and called ahead which way to check, and we ran through the last few checks. 8KM of live haring… Have to say I really enjoyed it. A great set that had us thinking for a long time, and certainly got the better of me. Hopefully live haring will take on even more! Good work Semen.

It was long, hard and wet. A bit like a Horny Monkey and Skidmark nightout. Actually it was so wet yesterday, all day, that the hare thought no-one would bother to show. And everyone did because they thought the hare needed support for his ‘efforts’!

The trail was laid around the forests surrounding a huge dam, or series thereof, and started from a small resort run by Heinrich the Saffer. Markings were pink and yellow postits said Semen Soars. Well, kinda, more like thirds of. Alas the hare neglected to provide magnifying glasses to the pack, so he sauntered along guiltily to make sure we were on trail for the first part of the run.

The first big obstacle was a steep dam run off channel. 6 foot down, 15 foot across slippy concrete running with overflow water and 6 feet up the other side, with 100 foot of concrete slide below at a steep angle. Grumbledick didn’t fancy it and he wasn’t alone. Thankfully Horned Monkey lent me a hand and we were over. The next check was down at the end of a sodden field. No marking could be found until some off trail r*nners checked way way above us on the dam itself. Up the green bushy dam wall side we scrambled and turned left at the end. The trail now dropped down towards the water’s edge and ran along the rocky shore then up into the forests. It was tough to follow tiny bits of paper and even more so when following the silent Turk. Funny how loud he was for a week spouting on about his big new erection. Now an FRB, he quieter than hasher who slips a roadie beer into his plastic bag. Oh, TD, one and the same! Talking of slips, Horny went down onto his hands at one point but his arse didn’t touch rock, and he also tottered after stepping on an errant stone later going thru water but those bloody ankle braces saved him. We were denied! Baah.

The forest trail was totally sodden, rain hammered down solidly and everything glistened and was green. Apart from the muddy clay. Which was brown. A different brown to Fishy Fingers’ hair, a bit lighter I’d say, but I digress. Semen had powder/cement circle checks and Vs but the trail went straight on round the lake shape as I imagined. After a V deep in the forest I found three blue plastic tubes. Blue Man Tube Skiddy Sticks! Sadly no-one else saw them as they all had taken the left spur and left me investigating the right!

The way in was long and wet. Follow the yellow brick road Dororthy, said Elton John, or something. And onwards for miles we trudged along a brick paved road circumnavigating the dam and dreaming of beer and strangling the hare, or both. HRA was FRB here with Muskrat and Horny going like a steam train. Sloppy joined the party and Turkish was in the group. After nearly 75 mins I staggered in, behind HRA but level with Sloppy. In dribs and drabs the exhausted pack returned to find no cold beer. What was the hare doing neglecting his duties? Walking and r*nning with Frozen Dick along the last mile or so to get in before curfew. Beware the quiet man with a stick said Winston Churchill. Beware the quiet man with a brolly says I.

Pool, Circle pt1. Food. Crap Irish coffee. Circle pt2. Kwazi apologies to Grumbledick. Semen serenades GD. Home. ZZZ.

(Alice)

Rooted by Rooter

A small but dedicated group of men,distinguished, mostly follically challenged but elegant in the broadest sense, stand easy on a mountainside. What are they there for and why do I detect an undercurrent of fear, even though the body language is relaxed and the chat amiable? Square Rooter is the hare for today’s Male Hash run, that’s why!

He used to lay real runners trails but now, in the immortal words of Chuck Wao, “Rooter loves the doi. Up and down. Up and down!!” And right he was!

Hare brief covered the usual markings plus a burning bush kind of hanging paper check/Skiddy Sticks-a-like was introduced as eyes narrowed in contempt and distrust. Mmm we’ll see thought the pack. There may be 2 or 3 of them Rooter added, his popularity plunging quicker than the Greek GDP.

Semen Soars was the first to shift into 2nd gear as the pack were dragging their feet, OK let’s do it! One of the early checks was a harbinger. Up a steep road to the left I went, waiting for the ONON call from below. Nothing. On and on I went. Nothing. Skidmarks behind me. A property. Forest. And a dark uninviting path into it to the right. Maybe, just maybe….but I’d done about 150 yards by then…surely not…there it was PINK paper! Bastard! ON ON, puff, pant up a gully into the forest. A circle check. Two obvious paths. I went up and left. Others up and right. Eventually the trail was discovered back down and right…argh.

Turkish and Fishy Fingers took turns leading and even DRP got into the act with some inspired choices at checks in the jungle. The pack were pretty much together for the first half of the run and Kwazi popped up ahead of me mid pack at one stage just to deflate me altogether. DRP advised me to pass him but run quietly as runners on a false trail across the creek might short cut and catch up!

Turkish was working hard and doing a passable FRB impression. Whoring Monkey was steady, protecting his vulnerable ankles. Chuck Wao, injured foot and running in ‘slippers’ (Dutch version thereof), was motivating the pack with his Lazarus like efforts. Actually he was zipping along, abusing most of us, geeing us up, even singing sea shanties at one point. ‘Move your arse, Skidmarks!’ he implored. ‘Its not so easy when you have a fat arse like mine!’ came the reply.

As all sensible hares do to minimize punishment, the last part after a devilishly tricky last circle check, was a flatish forest trail, green, verdant, lush and dripping, leading to a road and there was the hare shouting and pointing ON IN!

Frozen and Dogshit were walking back together like star crossed lovers in the gloaming. All was right with the world until brutality and vendetta (the circle) won out. Dogshit reckoned it wasn’t nearly nasty enough so kicked the ice with his shin and developed a tennis ball size lump on his leg, complete with dribble of claret. Maybe DS will have to run in some ‘slippers’ next week? Excellent tasty fare from Turkish D and off into town to a couple of hostellries to undo all the good work.

OnOn,
Alice
[nggallery id=15]