Run 1823, 13 September, Route Twisk

 

The Chippenfails

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It had all the makings of another disaster. Hare Catch Of The Day, crippled with  a particularly bad dose of clapped-out joints, had set the run two weeks before she left for Hawaii using yellow ribbon, she told us at the briefing in the lobby of the Nina hotel, where we were to leave our bags. These had faded or disappeared so she set the run again, this time with blue ribbon. This had also disappeared or faded. So she enlisted the assistance of a “mystery” hare, one who had not seen the trail before and was to set it live by trying to follow the old markings.

Hashers may be highly intelligent fellows when approached individually, holding down top jobs and driving flash cars, but as a collective they are stupid. Which is why nobody suspected Crash Test Dummy of being the mystery hare, despite him being observed in an animated conversation with the hare away from the pack. Just another tiff, we assumed. And so with the hare explaining the bizarre tape hangings for trail, checks and check backs, and a promise to chalk the room number for B – for indeed it was another Nina hotel finish – on the pavement, six brave souls boarded two taxis for the start.

This was half way up Route Twisk near the Gun Club. Eunuch, Penile Dementia, Golden Balls, Crash Test Dummy, Liberace and Creme Brulee soon found trail that led to a check with multiple options, including a clever check back, heading along the ctachwater, down the road, or down several dead-ends to hovels and shacks, . After 10 minutes Penile Dementia found trail through a fence onto scrubland and eventually a quite definite, fresh flour arrow up a concrete trail. Only then did it dawn on the pack that Crash Test Dummy was not among them!

So the five pushed on up the steps, past the usual suspicious villagers going “Bin goh?”, and onto a nice rising dirt track. After some time, Chuen Lung was reached and the pack short cut across the river, fortuitously finding trail on the other side. Goldn Balls, who had fallen behind on the ascent, could hear the calls on the other side of the river but couldn’t find the way across because it was all a bit tricky and there was of course no trail. A couple of villagers came out to tell him there was no way across, and then a friendly one said “Follow me”, and led him on a mazy route through the shacks and on to the main Chuen Lung Road where, lo and behold, there was a check!

Meanwhile the other four had pushed on through some marshy stuff and an obstacle course of overgrown rubbish onto trails east of Chuen Lung, where they lost trail. GB, coming up the rear, found it and he and PD pushed up through dense and trackless forest as the frantic wailings of Liberace (Are you?!) faded into the distance. For a downhill run this was bizarre as we were now above Chuen Lung and still climbing. Eventually Creme Brulee, Eunuch and, after a while, Liberace resumed their places at the front as trail became more runnable. Just before the run’s high point Creme Brulee slowed to a walk to allow Eunuch to push ahead. Then it was the red-brick steps down, 715 of them, followed by more steps past temples and the like, and before we knew it we emerged into the air-conditioned Discovery Park walkway to the MTR and on home to the hotel.

The hare was waiting but no Velcro Lips, who was supposed to be bringing drinks and ice. Her jalopy had broken down on the highway and the poor lass was stranded. “Nobody was concerned about me,” she sniffed plaintively later on. “But Velcro, we were concerned – about the beer,” came the reply, and so PD went out on a 7-Eleven run for reinforcements. One Eyed Jack was also there making a first welcome appearance since his surgery. Meanwhile COTD produced a bag of black bow ties, which we were required to wear shirtless and provide the ageing hare with what presumably was her own private group of  Chippendales. One for every mood. Down downs were awarded, cheesy comestible consumed, and, high above Tsuen Wan, the moon rose courtesy of Eunuch.

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Hares: Catch Of The Day, Crash Test Dummy

Runners: Creme Brulee, Eunuch, Golden Balls, Liberace, Penile Dementia

Non-runners: One Eyed Jack, Velcro Lips (honorary)

Run 1821, 2 September, Tsuen Kam Au

The Saturday Run No.14

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Tai Mo Shan in the Summer? Good idea, nice and cool. The pack gather at a barbecue site opposite the bottom of Tai Mo Shan Road but…no sign of the Hares and no markings; ominous…
So two of our geriatrics, Gunpowder Plod and Penile Dementia, decide to start early and disappear wheezing into the mist. Finding a check on Route Twisk, they find trail heading down into the country park and then encounter the exhausted and bedraggled hares Stunt Double and Hoover struggling back up the road, who point them further on down to another check.
Here exhaustive checking into the woods produces nothing and they part company. Plod finds trail up into the woods but PD is gone, only to pop up in the most unlikely places to confuse the following pack during the rest of the run.
Meanwhile the cunning Plod solves the next two checks in the wooded hills and re-emerges onto the road and another check. Here he discovers trail descending almost vertically down through the shiggy to god knows where. “Bugger that!” says Plod and finds the original path descending more easily further down the road.
Descending further down here through typhoon-felled trees he is caught by FRBs Red Rump, Mango Groove, Dingaling and the smaller of the two visiting US Marine Corps ladies, Jane. By now the shiggy trail is traversing a steep and slippery drop into a rocky stream and neat footwork is required to avoid disaster.
Arriving at a check on a dam, Plod is caught by Marine No 2, Whorer the Explorer. After finding the trail descending ever more steeply through yet more suicidal shiggy, Plod decides to abandon and short cuts for home across the dam onto a nice contour path. Whorer followed panting behind him. “What kind of Marine is this?” Plod wonders and discovers between gasps that she usually drives a Hummer everywhere and perambulation is not her forte.
They soon discover the trail joining the contour path from the depths of the valley and shuffle on home, eventually overtaken by the FRBs – although the determined Red Rump manages to run round most of the trail again before realising his mistake. – Gunpowder Plod

Hares: Stunt Double, Hoover, Hoover’s nephew the international orienteer

Present: Dingaling, Dram, Eunuch, Luk Sup Gow, Mango Groove, Oranguwank, Penile Dementia, Gunpowder Plod, Beer Tits, T-Bird, Velcro Lips, Red Rump, Yummy Mummy, Whorer The Explorer, Jane from Okinawa, Alyssa from Okinawa, Dan Henry, Antiseptic, Ruth, Travis, Paul…any others?

Run 1818, 6 August, Sha Kok Estate

The Piss Bucket

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Having been orf for a  while with the dreaded lurgy, I decided to show up for what I thought was to be a gentle trail set by Golden Jelly only to learn that I had misread the run notice and it was to be set instead by the dreaded Liberace!
 
The run notice said “Start: Pagoda in Sha Kok Estate between Sand Martin House and Osprey House” so having found a parking spot, I joined Mango, Dingaling and Penile Dementia under a ramshackle mushroom in said location. 
 
We were then joined by two Septics who had gone to Sha Tin MTR and then walked from there; large green male and a smaller pink female, very jolly, bagless, waterless, torch-less and borderline clueless visitors from Singapore’s Lion City Hash – Pool Boy and Secret Swinger.
 
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Welcome la!
Then a panting Golden Balls showed up telling us to move to another location near the dai pai  dongs where we joined the hare and pack in a shelter. The hare shortly announced “This is my shortest run ever; one run, chalk, flour and paper, front runners 45 minutes.” So not short/short then…
 
So orf we set in a timely fashion with Gunpowder Plod immediately short-cutting to the first check he had spotted walking to the Start. But with the Hare having neatly hidden all his occasional markings from plain sight, it took a while for the pack to call on-on up Shui Tsuen Au Street to a split. Most of the pack followed Dingaling over the barrier where he split his shorts and further split them coming back from the T. The trail went up an inverted stairway to hell otherwise known as Tsok Pok Hang New Village, a dingy den of ne’er-do-wells and layabouts and friends of Mango Groove thrown out of the old village for incestuous behaviour and alcoholism.
 
Golden Balls was the last up, preceded by Golden Jelly and the wheezing geriatric known as Plod, the rest of the pack now out of site and past the next check up the barriered road past the Girl Guide campsite (was that Dingaling seen climbing disappointedly back over the gate?) into the darkness of Lion Rock Country Park.
 
Oop n oop we went to another check where trail lead up some steps to a concrete path and some ambiguity. Trail was eventually spotted leading across and up into the shiggy which the now shiggy-adverse Plod decided to forego, short-cutting up left instead. He arrived at the next check in time to hear Dingaling descending from the right, seeing his torch and plaintively beseeching him with calls of “Are you on??” Plod, adhering to strict SCB etiquette, declined to answer, allowing Dingaling to overtake him up the path and find trail, followed in short order by the rest of the pack. 
 
The FRBs in the form of said Dingaling, Penile Dementia, Mango and FBI were shortly after observed retreating from a check-back, allowing our Lion City Hash visitors to shoot into the lead (directed by Plod) up another shiggy path, much to the consternation and wailing displeasure of the former FRBs. This was the last Plod saw of them as his knees declined the effort and led him back down whence they had come, finding Catching-Up Of The Day and Eunuch & Sons en route descendant.
 
Meanwhile, at the top of the hill, Oranguwank, Mango and Penile Dementia led the descent on a sometimes-pleasant sometimes-technical trail, with Dingaling just ahead of the fast-descending GB and FBI. The Frenchman slipped on some gravel and fell over, and while GB was laughing derisively at him he invoked the God of Schadenfreude, who promptly caused GB to twist his knee on an awkward drop and fall over.
 
On return, it was discovered that the bucket comprised Tsing Tao and ice and nought else! This was fairly quickly disposed of and later supplemented by softies and shandies. The Circle was then called to order by the non-running, broken-toed incompetent parent known as Eunuch. By the end of the evening, he and most of the pack probably wished that he HAD had his bits chopped off before consummating his marriage…
 
Plod observed that he had not realised that Eunuch’s younger son was in fact called “You Little Shit!”. This was what his father called him after he stomped on his broken toe, anyway…
 
“You Little Shit” then went on to pour the down-down beer out of the expensive N2TH3 hand-tooled stainless steel antique muglettes onto the ground.
 
His father, declining to drink several of the righteous DDs awarded him, then revenged himself by pouring his DDs over “You Little Shit’s” head, who seemed to enjoy it.
 
The crowning glory of this lovable delinquent’s behaviour came at the end of the proceedings however. He strutted up to the bucket and pissed in it!!
 
His father then paid the penalty of a full can DD out of the Piss Bucket.
 
“You Little Shit’s” final piece of yobbery could not be ignored so, in the absence of the RA, the lesser Sek Kong Hash RA, Liberace, stepped up and, to broad approval and acclamation, named  “You Little Shit” – Piss In Bucket, a moniker which he will no doubt be explaining for the rest of his hashing life. On on! – Gunpowder Plod
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Hare: Liberace

Runners: Mango Groove, Penile Dementia, Gunpowder Plod, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Velcro Lips, Oranguwank, FBI, Dingaling, Pool Boy, Secret Swinger, Catch Of The Day

Non-runners: Eunuch, Piss in Bucket, Travis, Yummy Mummy