Category Archives: CH3 – Monday

Beware the Young Turks – and an older one!

The deviously devilish HRA and the confidently cunning Brownfinger combined their myriad talents to produce a masterful run for the boys of CH3.

We were out 11.5 down Canal Rd behind Suckit’s ranchero and hopes were high. I wasn’t disappointed. In fact the run had more than everything.

Hare brief stated runners were on Graven Ass strips while walkers would transfer to powder at the split and not rejoin. Apart from Frozen Dick of course. Not sure why people don’t just listen to the brief without trying to trip up the hare but a few half minds were chuntering on and trying to disrupt BF’s discourse.

Away we went up thru the orchard on TMB and Foxy’s old trail. Into the bush, down past the pastel green reservoir and after some tricky turns and checks into forest. We crossed some burnt areas and tempting streamed junctions. Here I got a couple of checks right and got ahead going along and up a blackened ridge.

Eventually we turned left but I went on to the FT and suddenly I was mid pack with SpitzSpunk and Graven and Chucky in the van. It was good running trail now, well marked and we sweated thru the accumulated heat of a hot day. Then a circle where things unraveled aa tad.

On on was called from front right but there seemed no trail. BF warned about some bush whacking so maybe…I dropped paper in the overgrown unburnt hillside as we descended but then it ran out and we weren’t on any trail. God help the guys coming behind! Then a False Trail shout from down there. Fcuk!

Bashing thru the bush we found plenty of paper in a streambed at the bottom and went left onto lovely connecting trails over stone and sand with the dappled light of early evening shading our perspiring cranii and heaving chests.

We hit a circle after a straight run down a leafy path. Pack spread, I go straight and Spitz takes the sneaky left turn that TMB employed recently and I missed twice. He finds pink paper but not ass crack white. Chuck Wao was away right, closer than he knew to true trail but we hear a faint On call from a mysterious large red object with a Fallsburg NY accent, way ahead thru the trees. I keep jogging and turning back to check for paper but none. Strange, 180m no paper strange. The large red object was becoming distinct, it was like Bigfoot all over again.

We burst out of covered forest to find Frozen boasting he’d been on runners’ trail all through and had aced 6 checks without disturbing them for us. We sauntered past to a torrent of kvetching about how dare we pass while he’s laying paper to join trail!

An excellent FT knackered me again and trail took off left down a concrete dam and up a charred hillside to a building. We weren’t too far away now.

Spitz actually run up the steep hill ahead to show Graven his power while I guarded the circle. Chuck Wao was away right on the adjoining property. Turkey was somewhere around but disappeared off the radar. Spitz called In On On and we were up the hill and suddenly around fences and properties and wide tracks.

The next circle on the corner foxed Chuck and Graven and they went straight and right. The obvious main path was left so I took that and sure enough paper.

As we approached a familiar property with new fence and gate, Graven yelled On In from behind me! I started to up my pace as the Oregonian gained on me and tried to put me off with his blather. To no avail! I won! I was Mo Farrah! David Bedford! David Hemery! Actually I was just Alice, and water not gold, my reward.

35 minutes later and well after everyone else, a bedraggled, bloody and desperate Turkish Delight staggered in, red eyed, soaking in sweat, exhausted, without water, limping and beside himself with frustration, anger and indignant rage for some reason. He was as ever, a GM’s dream.

The truth will out. The Turk had not only sniffed around pre-run but boasted he’d found the On In and knew exactly which way we’d go and how to come home. This son of Attaturk not only went off paper deliberately because he ‘knew’ the way to shortcut but he added a couple of clicks and inflicted half an hour of pain suffering and loathing on himself.

The Turkey had certainly come home to roost. Christmas and Thanksgiving had definitely come early for the GM.
On on,
Alice

(Courtesy of Strangely Anal)

A Child (ish) Perspective
Sheep-Shagger 1st Solo Attempt

Thank you daddy for taking me to the “Men Only” Monday Hash
It was Such fun and jolly whizz too.
Wasn’t it funny the way we all got back to the start line after 10 minutes ?
I think Shaggy Sheep got something wrong didn’t he ?
Everyone was saying, what a silly billy he is, and by the way daddy, what is a Fuckwit ?
But then it was nice to go out and do the run backwards. Some runners decided to make it up as they went, and people were going in all directions. That was so funny.
Is that good hash behaviour daddy?
Is it normal for some people to shout at other people on the trail ? You said it would be fun and that I would have such a nice time. Auntie Alice shouted at me. She said I should have shouted something. Then she shouted at me again because I didn’t shout something. She made me cry. Is she on drugs daddy ?
She wasn’t the only one shouting orders though, there were other people shouting rules like barking mad dogs as well. I think it’s time for one of the elders like that nice Mr Absolute Faceplant or Chief Graven-Mirage to tell everyone to grow up, behave and play nicely, and not like jumped up little ships captains. Don’t you daddy ?
Which one is in charge anyway ?
I like Mr Nostradamus. He’s so cuddly, but he was angry a lot of the time. Is he always angry ? I like that Whispering man too. Is he from Land of the Giants ?
Mr Piggy Oink Oink is interesting isn’t he daddy ? Which planet is he from ?
The man with the brown finger is very annoying don’t you think. He always wins. Perhaps someone should snap his leg, then see if he wins ? I think that would be fair.
As for Shaggy Sheep. Perhaps if they stuffed his head up his bottom, he might be able to see where he’s going because he certainly didn’t know which way was Up on this run did he ?
Anyway, it was nice to meet so many funny people. Thank you for taking me to my first run with the grown ups. I’m glad you thought I was ready now that I’m an adult, well, I suppose I am now that I’m 59. Just one other thought, do they let girls go sometimes. ? I’d like to see one.
Mysteriously Strangely Anal

Maejo it was, quite convenient and the smoke didn’t seem thaaat bad today, so I sloped away from work and found my way to a familiar runsite. On the way to the Tiger’s Head, but on the right, past the dodgy little shelter to the corner. Immediately we were off in a different direction – normally at this junction turning left isn’t an option as there isn’t a way through, but today the hares had found / made one and sent us off that way. We were immediately behind the walkers scrambling along at a snails pace. We scrambled through and then crossed a bit of an orchard to get to the main trail the other side of the lake. Paper lead off to the right, but I wasn’t having any of it, and waited around the corner for Lizard Gizard Wizard to call the inevitable circle check call. Snowballs was already charging the other way and called us ON.

Around the corner a bit and another circle check placed after the junction – another inevitable “back check”, but Snowballs plowed on, and didn’t come back. Graven lead us along the main trail, and at the next junction when there was no check, in unison we predicted another back check and peeled off to the right, sure enough finding paper not far away. Brownie was leading now, and paper was laid off to the right where alternative trails went left. I wished Brownie well, and headed up to the road. Not even the devoted Brownie went to the check, and we quickly called it from parallel to the road. Magically Snowballs appeared in front of us! Brownie, Graven, Poo and I charged after him. Another check, and Graven and I were discussing which way we wanted to go when Snowballs called us up the hill to the left – we both doubted the call, but followed up the hill only to find an inch square of old paper on a leaf. Back down the hill and over to the trail I’d wanted to check before.

Lovely little cut through trail, but I eased off hoping to let Brownie and Graven figure out the next check before I got there. It was a crucial point – either we would break right and hit the Maejo farm, or break left and go via the Tiger’s Head. But there was no check! Graven assumed there would be a back check and tried looking to the left. Brownie lost confidence to follow the paper on his own. There were confused cries from behind us, and somehow I found myself back at the front! Damnit! Now I was at the check being forced to make the call on the break. I was wrong… Not badly so, but just a bit. I rejoined trail along with a largish group, including Kwazi! And Kwazi was running! And I wasn’t closing him down!

We regrouped around the Tiger’s Head as we lost the trail for a bit. Apparently the trail had cut into the scout camp and the check was in the Tiger’s mouth, but with scouts milling around with brushes, we picked up trail again the other side of the lake. Now it was the Lizard setting the pace, but he was caught out by another back check. Graven is as familiar with these trails as I am, and he wasn’t being tricked, leading Brownie to the right. I followed with Poo, while the Lizard made his own way across country.

From here there were only 2 more checks. I paused at one junction where there wasn’t a check and lost a bit of ground on Poo, Brownie and the Lizard, but quickly made it up again as they missed the trail headed off to the right. Graven was somewhere ahead, no doubt charging his way straight on and back. The last check cost me a few meters, but as soon as I saw the check, I was straight to the paper. Brownie, Poo & Lizard chasing me, Graven somewhere ahead, and then no more checks. No chance of closing Graven down, so I trudged in with Brownie & Poo. Good to see Poo running better again, and a nice set all on good running trails.

Sheep Shagger made his solo haring debut a fair way down Canal Rd, writes Alice, and in the area close to the Frozen Dick house apparently.

The pack was small but raring to go and the brief told us we were on sheep related paper, a nice touch. The hare was pretty sure it was about 5 km and there were FTs marked with sheep in red NO signs. When asked about check backs from Vs it became clear there weren’t any Vs just circles.

Away we went on the start of a tight course that tried to wiggle a runnable route out of a narrow grid of tracks and orchards. It was promising to be a literally close run thing. How would the hare control the pack?

I struggled to get past Tiptoe then Rooter stepped across me.
The first check was hidden behind a tree although when you stopped and turned round because there was no paper visible either side of the t junction, you saw the check. I went right to check-wrong! The breadcrumb paper was rather thin, tiny strips that someone tore into thinner tinier strips that some runners had trouble seeing.

On on was called left and into an orchard or two, another check and through a wide barbed wire fence unmarked onto more paper and then a check that led to our undoing.

The pack spread and a clear On On from FRB Graven on a track the other end of the orchard. I caught up and we saw paper on both sides of the barbed wire fence. Portent of gloom or a masterful debut?

He and others tried finding ingress to the overgrown field while Graven, as senior hasher, sent me down the clear path on paper to find the False Trail, he reliably informed me was down there.
On and on I jogged, obviously too far for a falsie and so it was. Into another orchard and out with a flash of songthao red through the trees. Uh oh. 10 minutes in and I was back at the A. Sheep Shagger’s face was a picture! The FRBs converged behind me and it was time to take stock.

Graven re-ran the out trail while I jogged backwards with the hare to show him where we’d hit the in trail. I think he was so focussed on the out trail and making that well marked but tricky at checks, he’d missed the proximity of the in trail. A new hare common gaff.

No matter, we set off again, the Kwazi checking like a good un and running down trails. Suddenly we see the rest of the pack, ABB, Strangely, Pig, Pussy Whisperer, Square Rooter etc. They were standing around and debating. Didn’t look promising. They were confused, trail was confused and what we did know was that paper was both ways fairly close by.

Paper was found in a field but going backwards, then down a clear path and then 3 pieces hidden after a long gap which suggested a circle somewhere but also that we were in reverse again. Despite good will, head nor tail was really made of things so groups made their own ways home trying to follow the in or the out backwards to try to ascertain where we went wrong.

Calls weren’t always heard clearly or perhaps made and tempers got a bit hot here and there. Hash is a game, should be fun and there’s only 3 main moving calls. ‘On on’ for on trail. ‘Checking’ when searching from a check. ‘Looking’ when suddenly off paper and trying to get back on. If the pack call clearly and often, we’ll eat the trail and not irritate each other. End of vent!

Back at the A, Sheep Shagger was trying to come to terms with everyone’s advice. The circle was low key as folk relaxed. Luckily the terrain was flat and we got mixed up close enough to the A both times so no-one really stressed or panicked. A few gently funny tales of the Udon outstation were told and enjoyed by your scribe Alice.

Strava routes were revealing. They all looked like a figure of 8 overlaid on a loop of another 8. Pack ran between about 3.5 and 5.2 km I think in about 45 mins.

On on on was in Bier Stube with unfortunately smoking patrons in our vicinity. Lucky Chuck Wao went home to recuperate.

Courtesy Brown Finger:-

Last Monday we were subjected to the Square dude’s infamous hill, the vertical wall of death that broke the balls of the entire male hash. This Monday it was the turn of Alice, the darling of the receding hareline, to test our metal. Would he attempt to out Rooter the Square dude or would he have mercy on our still recovering testicles?

The latest Alice A site was outback of the Grand Canyon. I had scouted this area about a month ago and found the forest trails largely overgrown and the fences more numerous than ever. So I was curious to see what Alice had found here to make a decent run out of, or maybe he was just going to shred our legs to ribbons on barbed wire and shiggy.

A brief enough hare brief showing trail paper with a pretty red “plimsoll” line and fashionable printed checks. One might wonder whether the co-hare, Taste My Buns, had asserted her femininity here, but then again, the hare’s name is Alice. And then we were off. Roads, barren and housed land plots and opened barbed wire fences made up the outward part of the run. Some tricky checks had the FRB’s scrambling all over the place and it was fortunate that we had a visiting Jesus Christ in our midst to enlighten us as to the true path to follow. After a while we clambered through a gully and up to and through a fence and found ourselves on one of those overgrown forest trails I mentioned earlier. But this time the trail was a little clearer and as we meandered our way gently uphill the shiggy gave way altogether leaving good running trails that we moved swiftly along.

After the wimp trail had darted off to the right, it was always going to be when and where Alice would decide to lead the rambos in the same direction, and this is where I was caught out the most. Every time a check suggested a right turn I took it, and every time true trail went straight so that I was down the hill and up again like a flamin’ yoyo. Nice work Alice.

Eventually we did turn right but by then I was a good distance behind the front runners. It was that Columbian drug smuggling weasel who waited until three checks from the end to make his move and there was no catching the sneaky little git from there, although Chucky, Graven, Suckit and I gave it a good try. Not sure how Suckit managed to stay out front for most of the run, he looked like a pile of pale pig shit before the run having spent his entire 60 th birthday celebrations sucking on several bottles of vodka and an everlasting bong. Happy birthday you old bastard!

Beer and splashes, and then back to town for burgers and stuff. Thanks for the hangover, Mr Banks!!!!

And thanks to Alice for yet another great Chiang Mai hashing experience. I see you are haring again this Saturday. With my testicles unbroken and the skin on my legs unshredded, I am looking forward to it already

The signage to the A was probably the worst thing about the run, different coloured signs, signs on the right at left turns etc. I mean, on a scale of badness, mmm, possibly .75 – but enough to completely bamboozle HRA, who allegedly hadn’t been drinking, and more critically beer mobster Tiptoe.
The hare brief was brief. Funny! And off we went like rats up a drainpipe. The cream paper managed to curl and look aged after a day. I empathised.
The trail followed a Nov run of mine but in the opposite direction, lovely forest paths, a dry streambed, some bush, farmland, just great. At a check, Charlie was attending a grazed knee while Poo and self clambered under barbed wire in search of paper. Oh, they went thataway, added Charlie helpfully after we’d gone 50m wrong.
Once at the BJ junction, it was right towards the road and perhaps the quarry or…..stay South side and follow my trail from last Mon’s male run! Blimey, talk about deja vu. At least Browny got to smell the bovine anal offerings he treasures. He even ran off trail to sniff the scent. Pervert.
A semi jogging PiPoo and CheapShagger had been left behind by now and I was jogging along in train of Poo and Charlie. Chuck, Graven, Sherman and Suckit were ahead, along with the Namaimo Cannonball but I only heard faint calls and never saw them again. No great loss admittedly.
Up the stony hill and down the other side. Would hares take us back into the doi and around anti clockwise? Yes! Free scouting lesson, apply here. I’m in!
The return loop was excellent trail, narrow forest paths on ridges with tricky Vs and checks descending to more open pastures and wider farm tracks. Charlie let me pass but I couldn’t catch Poo.
A final check had left and right ahead options but jackknifed back left, up and around. Nicely done hares. Pleased I didn’t get there first.
The circle was extra long as Frozen and Tiptoe decided to short cut as Frozen knows the area like the back of his wanking hand. 2 1/2 hours later the love birds return from 180 degrees the wrong way muttering about Shiggy, barbed wire and ravines. Marvellous stuff.
Two splashes stand out: Browny sharing excess amber with HRA last Xmas and then being offered Cumalot to finish him off or something. And most disturbingly the picture painted by Shakespeare’s American son Sucket of Piggee and Strangely in matching lingerie wanking off together on a double bed to Albanian fart porn and deciding their hash paper should be…ugh..ugh..ugh..creeeeeeeaaaaam.
Fcuk my dead dog. That bastard vision can not be unseen. Thanks Suckit for ruining the rest of my life.
Superb set, lovely running trails and the most engaging and sparkling On On On in months. Well, the pack went to Mad Dog while I enjoyed sushi (ahem) in Nimmanhimen with a lonesome Canuck visitor. Sometimes you eat the trail, and sometimes the trail eats you.
Kudos to Square Rootley for his magnificent achievement of 300 male runs, 3 pewter tankards (2 mislaid and new one already half flattened) and putting up with all this CH3 silliness for donkey’s years.
Alice.

Courtesy Brown Finger:-

The ubiquitous hare Alice, the saviour of many a Chiang Mai Hair Raiser, provided his latest offering from one of his favourite A sites along and to the right of the Ob Khan road. The traffic was bad coming out on the songthaew, with tailbacks along the Hang Dong Road worse than ever. It was therefore somewhat surprising that we arrived at the A just in time for the hare brief. A good turnout, nice hashing area, good prospects for a yet another fine Chiang Mai male hash. But Alice was looking pale, sickly. Was he still feeling the effects of his mysterious ‘illness’ or was he starting to buckle under the intense pressure of haring so many recent runs? We were about to find out.

I was feeling confident. I know this area well, having scouted the crap out of it over the last few years. There isn’t a trail, dirt road, bush-bash, hill or water obstacle that I don’t know like the many strange warts on my old fat arse. No contest. I was going to WIN!!!!! And there I was, way out front, picking the checks from the A that lead to a trail into the forest at the back of the Garden Centre. Now there are only two realistic ways to go from here, either to the right, on nice running trails up to the back entrance road to the Centre, or straight ahead, through a gully and into the Centre near the entrance on the Ob Khan Road. So, having passed the right hand trails, we hit the gully and a check. Only one way left to go, or so I told Chucky, who understandably followed me in a forward direction. And that is how over confidence gets you into all sorts of shitty trouble. Much to my complete amazement an on-on was called from somewhere behind. Still feeling cockily confident, I assumed that the hare had backtracked and taken the right hand trails. So I cut through the Centre knowing I would join the trail out to the right. How fucking wrong could I be. By this time I was all alone and obviously someone had found true trail . . . but where????

So I did a loop back to the gully and sure enough the check was kicked out to the left along the gully, which I had scouted on many occasions and had found impassable because it led to a dead end, at an old occupied shack. It was here I came across a lone Pi Poo, and it was a good job I did. Between us we found trail going back into the forest, leading to an old abandoned house, which I had never seen before. It was here that Gravy swears was a V check with both legs ending in a false trail . . . WTF? But by the time I got there, paper on the ground indicated the supposedly true false trail which turned out to be the false false trail, if indeed there were two false trails in the first place – the hare, of course, strongly denied this preposterous notion . . .

Anyway, Pi Poo finally figured it out, and I left this fine fellow to fend for himself while I tried to catch up with the pack. God, it is so bleeding’ boring just running along trail with kicked out checks. Not used to this, and I never want to get used to it. Anyway, I had to live with the fact that the reason why I was in this lamentable situation was because I had been a smug little prick, thinking that everything would be as it always was, forgetting that things never are – trails come and go, fences come and stay, a hare can bushwhack through almost any type of terrain

And then we were led to the other side of the Ob Khan Road, along familiar dirt roads, and through that heap of shit, just past the water tanks, where the farmer keeps his cattle and their stinking anal offerings. Nice smells at the end of a long hot day. Thanks Alice! And it was here that a particularly nasty check had the pack heading back in my direction, and would you believe I was back on trail and out front again. But alas, I wrongly went left at a check with Chucky, and we went approx 110 meters and found trail that was coming from the right. Chucky, still regaining fitness following his annual visit back to Aus, suggested we stay on trail and head on in, so we did, with Turkish Delight catching up to us screaming like a banshee for reasons I still don’t understand. Turkish, Turkish, Turkish, what more can I say!

And then we were back over the Ob Khan Road and on in to the A for another fine circle and plenty of cold ones.

Well Alice, you didn’t buckle under pressure, it was another great run, which certainly made me feel ‘ever so ‘umble’. Keep up the good work, and if you need a hand setting another run from your favourite A site, then go find some other smuck who knows the area better than me!

Write Up Courtesy Alice:-

It was a long way from the 6.3km turn off to site so I was getting nervous until I saw Turkey’s HHH sign pointing along the road to assure punters. I arrived first on my bike, then the Poomobile and Poo cast a gloomy eye around and greeted me with, “Is this it?!” Nice to see you too Poo!

Songtao and various bikes and big black truck driven erratically arrived soon after and it was hare brief time in TD’s inimitable fashion, Kwaz bemoaning the fact he hadn’t had time to sort his sox and footwear.

The first km was a thing of wonder. Turkey took the CSH3 mantra to heart, and applied it to his set. Start Slowly and Taper Off. I was suddenly feeling far more confident about my scouting that pm for next Monday!

After a while there were forest paths and checks, woo woo, kite checks and V checks. Angry and Poo were up top by now, and Kwazi had fallen victim early doors to tripwire and Poo Stick in short order. Even a check and on on trail that a local lady had messed up by removing Turkish’s white paper marks were eventually accomplished. I enjoyed chatting with B@B although he was adamant Poo should hear us talking football! I didn’t enjoy it when he asked if I weighed 16 stone!

Pigshit was suddenly moving well and Graven too. The trails opened out and Sheep Shagger took the opportunity for geological survey and illegal removal of quartzite rock crystals. Rooter was making fiendish noises, I wondered what Does Nothing, Pussy W and ABB were doing to him? Eventually the neat On In and Kwazi comes steaming past calling ‘Coming through’. Shameless hussy.

The circle was bright enough, Piggie was snappy and ABB too, plus it was enlivened by a vintage performance from Libbers, emboldened by the Donald’s antics and shock victory in Murca. Just goes to show old whines get better with age.

A gentle and fairly flat run just short of 5 km, exactly as TD had promised. Now that is a high bar for the coming hares to reach.