Same as it Ever Was

Having been sternly warned of the early start (2pm) and the perils of navigating and village parking in the light of the traditional burning of the Wishing Tree ceremony, Moah offered to drop me off at Hong Lok Yuen, so as not to get stuck in a jam, but walk to Luk Sup Gow’s new place. As we approached the HLY Roundabout, I said, “Go ahead, it’s clear, never mind the rozzers!” “Too late,” said she, turning left beforehand, and I had to hike about 20 minutes uphill in otherwise beautifully hot sunshine. I passed by the police and tree-mongs, and picked up trail opposite Leafy Glade, snaking through the village when all at once I saw a crowd, a host of golden Filipinas, beside the meadow beneath the trees, chattering and drinking in the breeze.

It was LSG’s new authentic village crib, and I entered the patio, noting the great pastoral view. “Hello!” said I. “You’re late,” said they, “the runners left 15 minutes ago.” I slung my bag, and presented a Chinese calendar to our host, Beer Tits, as she appeared at the house doorway, who was looking a bit porky. “You’re looking a bit fat,” said I. “I’m pregnant, 18 weeks,” said she. The what was suddenly inside my head talked out, committing a second faux pas – “It’s not mine! ….(pregnant pause)….Er, here’s a calendar from Moah.” Then the music and talking was in my head:

And you may find yourself
Living in a Lam Tsuen shack
And you may find yourself
In another part of the world
And you may find yourself
Behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house
With a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself, well
How did I get here?

So, Luk Sup Gow, how did you get here?

Looking south to the Lam Tsuen ridge running to Lin Au, I could hear no calls, so set off in hard pursuit. Down the winding path, to the start of a wooded, shiggy trail, with a steep drop left to a stream. Then I heard calls and looked up to the ridgeline yonder. Front running bastards Gaelle Says No, and maybe Dingaling, were eastward bound on the contour path. I figured that’s 15 minutes ahead, so tried to pick up the pace. Then, immediately, what with all the CNY partying, and forced route march to the start, my pulse went off the scale and forced me to go at Spanish donkey pace.

Trail was technical and well marked, with mud and blood.  I wandered lonely as a cloud, that floats on high o’er vales and hills, beside the stream, beneath the trees. Into the blue again, in to the silent water, under the rocks and stones, there is water underground, and as I neared the ridge summit path, my racing pulse decided to have a time out, and I was better able to appreciate momentary scenes of beautiful and rugged nature  flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude; and then my heart with pleasure fills. In other words, it was a good trail, pretty in parts.

Along the ridge. Then some down stuff, grabbing twigs and branches. Then onto the rambos, through the ancient valley and meadow on the south side of the ridge, then up the hill at the end, over, down, through the villages and back to the buckets. Knackered.

The party was already in swing even before an extended circle. A big turnount from eminent, hard drinking hashers on good form such as Stingray, Crème Brûlée, Gaelle SN and Canuck mate Mr Titties, Golden Balls, Fartypants, Victim, Stunt Double, Dram, Geriatric, others I can’t recall because they weren’t being bad enough, and of course all the hash ladies, including the one who sawed her foot off and reattached it just for the challenge, Catch of the Day, who was very well-behaved that glorious afternoon and sunset, despite wearing a special Chinese festival hat. Much later some young buck turned up, forgot his name [Green Head Penis], but a newbie FRB who had managed, despite uncharacteristically good markings, to lose trail and run back from Taipo. Latecomers Moah and Hard Up then arrived, and I did not neglect to insult either of them with ’70s “humour” and, as usual, suffer the consequences.

Our hosts were extremely generous as usual. A great barbecue, and loads of craft beer and wine. We wish Beer Tits, LSG, Philip and the the one under construction the very best for an auspicious Year of the Pig.

The hashers beside them danced;

but they out-did the sparkling twats in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
in such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
what wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
I have a jolly good wank,

I may tell myself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!

Letting the days go by (same as it ever was)
Once in a lifetime
Letting the days go by

On on – Salesman (with apologies to Wordsworth and David Byrne)

Hares Luk Sup Gow, Beer Tits, Phil (with a little help from Dingaling and his bolt cutters)

Runners Golden Jelly, Stunt Double, Liberace, Creme Brulee, Golden Balls, Hoover, Dingaling, Green Head Penis, No Rough Stuff, Stingray, Dram, Victim, Gaelle Says No, Mr Titties, Salesman, Geriatric, Walky Talky, Fartypants, T-Bird

Non-runners Terryman, North & South, Hard Up, Moah, Overdue, VD, Chemical Ali, Desperate Dan, All The Way, M&M, Catch Of The Day

Jab It in Yore Eye

Location: Across the river from Lo Wu at the Chinese border. We showed up greeted by a pleasant view of Shenzhen and a police post. Once all had arrived we were given a quick brief telling us of a gate which we must solve the opening of, and to not fall into a ditch. With a relatively flat trail, a good pace was kept. Gaelle Says No headed up the pack, not calling so as to make sure others would get plenty of good exercise. After heading through a village, Liu Pok, we went up some small hills with a few checks.

After a check at the top of a hill the path was found leading us down hill through shiggy. Creme Brulee on the way down jumped around Stingray to expedite his decent. Later down the hill Creme Brulee attempted to short cut and fell into a deep ditch. Once reaching the bottom a two way check was found. Which was of course not marked by our front runner causing a few to turn the wrong way.

After some flat distance the rambo and wimps split came along. The rambo was a virgin shiggy trail which led us to the border fence. Along which was the aforementioned ditch we were not to fall into. Miraculously no one had any issues with the ditch but the good luck was not to last. Steps, a lot of steps getting up the final hill. The run down was a death trap featuring left over barbed wire fence which lay on the trail and metal wire hung like a clothesline. On the way down Liberace ran into this wire, tearing his eyelid. It appears the hare had hoped to reduce the number of the pack, and he nearly succeeded. The trail came down to join the wimps of which only Golden Jelly took part in.

We returned the way we came leading us back to the meeting point. The circle was formed. Down downs were given in the form of boxed wine. After all only the best educated down wine from a box. Eventually we ran out of people to give down downs to and called it an evening.  – Green Head Penis

Hare Golden Balls

Runners Gaelle Says No, Green Head Penis, Golden Jelly, Liberace, Creme Brulee, One Eyed Jack, Stingray

Non-runners Luk Sup Gow, Dram, T-Bird

 

Loadsa Trottoir

Report to come (QT)

Hare Stingray

Runners Penile Dementia, Liberace, Creme Brulee, Radio 1, Aiden, QT, Alice, Back To The Future, Count Von Cunt, No Rough Stuff, Golden Balls, One Eyed Jack

Society’s Best Efforts

Despite the much depleted pack (Eunuch, Mango Groove, BJ and Geriatric all out of town, QT and No Rough Stuff unable to make it) more than a dozen hashers turned out for Stingray’s short, flat run around Ping Yeung, numbers that a decade ago, when packs of half a dozen were common, would have been hailed as handsome. And indeed it was a memorable night – but not for the reasons expected.

We were greeted with the sight of a wrapped pagoda, sheathed in tarpaulin by One Eyed Jack, who has plenty of experience in mega-managing dodgy structures. Inside, Penile Dementia was fiddling with sausages, while behind the edifice Catch Of The Day was doing her favourite thing, building a fire. Penile’s previous warning that we shouldn’t use this “village people” pagoda didn’t seem ominous in the slightest.

And so the first instalment of hashers set off (some were still looking for the start) down the hill to Ping Yeung and on to a track through vegetation. Gaelle Says No showed a clean pair of heels to the pack and was not seen again until the finish. The rest of us, meanwhile, followed a convoluted trail through agriculture and villages on concrete and dirt paths, with the frequent checks bringing the pack together time and again like a conked-out accordion. And of course there were the “hilarious” Stingray touches – like the bit where Golden Jelly, Velcro Lips and myself followed trail all the way around a huge grave and back to where we started.

Halfway point was Ping Che Road, which we followed for a short stretch before trail led off into agriculture again. Radio 1 was particularly nervous of the many hare-eyed jittery dogs and sprinted with a sort of yelp to the nearest man whenever a canine looked vaguely in her direction. Velcro Lips on the other hand quelled them with the power of the Hartlepool accent. Aiden, One Eyed Jack and Creme Brulee swapped the lead until going wrong in the final section, a traverse of a maze of pig trails through tall grass, where Golden Balls was the first to find his way up the bank to the pagoda to find…

…cops and cop cars everywhere, the whole pagoda awash with water from a Fire Services hosepipe, a fire engine, irate villagers with their dogs (bizarrely with glowing collars), a defiant Catch Of The Day standing over the drowned fire arguing the toss with the lead cop, Stingray grinning inanely and making up cockney-philosophy, and Penile Dementia doggedly turning the sausages on the barbecue while ignoring the pandemonium surrounding him.

Velcro Lips, hot on GB’s tail, took one look at the scene and sensibly fled into the night. Lead cop was demanding the place be cleaned up, so clean it up we did (but not before COTD had asked to record the cops’ demand to return the glowing logs to the bush, where they’d cause a fire) and the paramilitary and village enforcers finally left us to our sausages, baguettes, mulled wine and other devices.

Chief among these being the “game”. We were split into teams (late arrivals Liberace, Serbian Bomber and Back To The Future having joined by this time) based on our finishing positions, with Team A wearing hats made from Asahi crates and Team B wearing hats made from Tsingtao crates. We then had to take it in turns to do what the GM called “butt writing”, which entailed writing a word with – yes – your butt. Team A ran out easy winners with Creme Brulee particularly prescient in determining letters carved in air by oscillating bottoms. Team A walked off with chocolate lunar new year ornaments while Team B got calligraphy, which Liberace interpreted for us in his inimitable way. Who could have guessed that classic Chinese New Year calligraphy was so loaded with innuendo?

Then it was Learning With Libs, where the professor of Chinglish explained that 1900 actually meant bukkake (19 = sup gau = moist dooda and you can guess the rest). The mulled wine disappeared and not a sausage remained as we drove off leaving the evening’s architects sitting amidst the smouldering ruins of their nemesis: the village people’s pagoda.

Actually we left it in better shape than we found it – as always – and proved that despite society’s best efforts there’s no stopping the Northern!  – Golden Balls

Hare Stingray

Runners Gaelle Says No, Golden Balls, Radio 1, Serbian Bomber, Golden Jelly, One Eyed Jack, Liberace, Aiden, Velcro Lips, Creme Brulee

Non-runners Catch Of The Day, Penile Dementia, Luk Sup Gow

Radio No Silence

Vibrate is the hare.

7:30 is start time for Fish of the Day, Fat Student, Stem Degeneration, Friction Lip.

7:38 is start time for Hazelnut, Monocular, Succulent, Aton, Hitting Doll, Ghost Fish, Radio 1.

8:10 Golden Ball, No Rough Stuff start.

I started to turn right into the village for a few minutes. I saw Fish of the Day, Fat Student. I thought it was CHECK. In fact we need to climb a big water pipe and then turn up the mountain road. I thought how would Fish of the Day would go up, but I saw the group of boys climbed without considering. Go up, I am only dead and afraid of getting lost!

After going up the mountain, I first saw the Friction Lip and followed the Stem Degeneration all the way up into a fine bamboo forest. After passing through it, I saw the street lamp on the right side of the hillside at Mui Tsz Lam Road. Everyone thought that TRIAL should be right.

The first CHECK, the Stem Degenerates straight to the right, TRIAL DOWN, TRIAL DOWN, “T”!

I went back up the mountain and went up a hill. I heard the Hazelnut yelling at CHECK BACK. After turning back and running, I saw Libale cut right ONON up the mountain and reached the top of the mountain to see Aton at CHECK. I was in the direction of Libale. Right, Aton left to forest, and soon heard TRIAL, Once again, it proves that HASH can never be cut with Libale. It must be wrong! When you turn back to the mountain, you can see the Succulent, the Monocular, and the Ghost Fish will join the forest. Soon you will fall into a dangerous path.

Next, I was so shocked that I would hold the tree and the grass together. The Monocular and the Succulent were hitting CRASH respectively. We turned into the ditch for about 50 metres and could not find the TRIAL fold and saw Libale, and then entered the bamboo forest. The trails are all roots, and the Monocular is not interesting. Finally they asked me not to go fast because their headlights and flashlights are not enough! Until the diversion channel runs back to the starting point along the road. – Radio 1

Hare Vibrator

Runners No Rough Stuff, Golden Balls, Radio 1, Stingray, Crash Test Dummy, Aiden, QT, One Eyed Jack, Mango Groove, Velcro Lips, Penile Dementia, Bunter, Catch Of The Day

1898 and all that

What would be your worst nightmare? Being hare for a Northern New Territories Hash Saturday run, setting a good run, providing sausages and 21 year whiskey, but for nobody to turn up. This is what actually happened to Penile Dementia….poor bloke!!

But the demented one thought the run was at 2 pm and after waiting for almost an hour of nobody turning up, GM Catch Of The Day was the first one to arrive. She had to console the broken Penile, in tears and suicidal, bringing him out of his nightmare. What a plonker or has the dementia started to move upwards?

Anyway there was a turnout of 13 hashers at this first N2TH3 Saturday run of 2019 and even visiting hasher Bondi Barbie together with his collection of knives and choppers after lurking around Tai Mo Shan all morning with them….uhmmm. This is where the start of the run was and COTD gave an extra briefing after the hare’s usual run brief by saying the first 5 persons to finish the run were in Team A and the last 5 persons was in Team B for a competition after the circle as this was run 1898, which is the same year the British took the NT under a 99 years lease.

The run went along the MacLehose trail west of Route Twisk and at the first check, trail was called on the road section only to end up at a T and back to the check and left into Twisk nature trails It was thereafter into nice Tai Mo Shan trails with a couple of Ts keeping the pack well together until the last stretch of the MacLehose road back to the start. As I ran down with Radio One onto an intersection, a load of marshals were shouting at us “ are you competing runners” because this was a stop for the Tai Mo Shan 160 km Ultra race, see we don’t look decrepit at all, fit in easily with those ultra-marathon runners.

Circle was valiantly held by COTD, who was facing severe food poisoning from eating sushi the night before in Kowloon City and even compered the 1898 games. BRAVO and what dedication. Too many downs downs to remember from all the N2TH3 mismanagement (GM, GM2, RA and RA2). The games started with Team A (GB, Dram, Penile, Radio 1, Bondi and Stunt Double) Vs Team B (One Eyed Jack, Stingray, Geriatric, Hoover, BJ and Electrolux). All questions was cleverly related in some ways to 1898 i.e. 1+ 8 x 9 – 8 =?, Who was the emperor of China in 1898 and who could speak 1898 in French, German or Spanish and more. Person, who knew the answer, ran to a can of beer and gave his right or wrong answer. What great fun and it was Team B who eventually won the contest by 1 point, bloody cheats.

It was then onto the sausages, hot buns, Cheddar flown in from UK by BJ and biscuits and quaffed down with beers and 21 year old whisky….what an excellent way to spend a Saturday in the New Territories. — Stunt Double

Hare Penile Dementia

Runners Dram, Golden Balls, Stunt Double, Radio 1, Hoover, One Eyed Jack, Stingray, BJ

Non-runners Electrolux, Catch Of The Day, Geriatric, Bondi Barbie

The First Run of 2019

Here we were, recovering from the New Year celebrations. This was to be the first Wednesday run of 2019. It was overcast, it was cold and there was the threat of rain, but 10 celebrated hashers were able to find the start of the run at a covered sitting out area next to the Pak Wo Road roundabout, Fanling. Of course, not all hashers made it by 7.30pm, but the run kicked off a few minutes later after we had been graced with the presence of our GM.

The Markings: The hare kindly described the markings and in so doing confused everyone with the suggestion that an “end of trail” (a traditional “T” accompanied by a dob of flour above the “T”) needn’t be interpreted as an “end of trail”! Eh? Beware of the check back(s), and look out for a potentially wet crossing of a stream, said the hare pointing to his muddy trainers. As far as the Old Fart’s Knitting Circle was concerned (namely yours truly), it was encouraging to learn that there would be no massive hills to climb (as per the run in Fo Tan on 19 December) and there was to be very little shiggy to clamber over. Phew! Thank you, Mister Hare.

There was even a hidden wimps run. For those of us hanging back, we were advised to climb down into a nullah upon crossing the footbridge. Just look for the on on and we’ll be ahead of the rambo runners. Sounds like a plan!

Shortly after 7.30, the GM declared on on, and we left the sitting out area, picking up the first of the markings just before entering a public park beside Pak Wo Road. The trail followed mainly paths threading their way past no end of single storey NT traditional wooden village houses. As I wasn’t carrying my phone, I was quickly lost as to my whereabouts. Fortunately, I was accompanied by the GM who seemed to be able to predict where trial was destined. Also, it was comforting to note a line of high multi-storey flats dominating the skyline. Surely, even if I go off trail, there’s a better than evens’ chance that I could find my way back to Fanling? Famous last words?

Actually, the trail marking was pretty good, and we stuck to the main paths for most of the way. No end of the village houses had dogs, but every dog was either caged or kept behind secure fencing. Nice Fido, nice doggy!

Eventually, the GM and yours truly stumbled across the nullah footbridge. Everyone else, be they rambos or wimps, were way ahead of us. This was to be the SCB’s chance to short cut! A fence had to be climbed before descending down the wing wall to the footbridge onto a grass verge beside the nullah. Wow and behold, an on on was marked on the pillar supporting the footbridge. Yes, this was the way home. After a few hundred metres, we encountered a check back. We had passed under another footbridge, so it was very likely the trail was on the footbridge. Indeed, it was. The only problem was negotiating the fence securing the course of the nullah. At the risk of castrating myself, the fence was slowly and carefully negotiated. Onto a check. Which way? Yours truly checked out the false trail, the GM instinctly followed the correct trail.

After saying hello to a charming lady outside her village house who seemed to question our right to follow public paths and who encouraged her eight or nine dogs to wake up the dead, we followed the trail alongside a stream in front of the aforementioned blocks of flats. Surely, we were on our way home. After being overtaken by the first of the runners, the path eventually, intercepted the outward trail. Clearly, after the start of the run, the hare had returned to the trail to cross out the outward markings and mark the on home. And so it was back to the bucket in only one hour. We learnt later, that the first batch of short cutters had encountered the outward trail before the hare had marked the on home.

The first runners back to the bucket were the short cutters followed by the runners. QT was the first runner back the bucket. Talking of runners, where was Liberace? There was no sign of him. It transpired that he had chosen to continue along a false trail towards Sheung Shui or possibly Lo Wu. After goodness knows how many kilometres finding neither chalk nor flour, he decided to retrace his steps. He was the last runner home. A first for Liberace? Surely, a prime candidate for a down-down?

And so as the ice cold Carlsberg and Tsing Tao began to flow at the bucket, along with red wine, the GM called the circle to order to announce the first of many down-downs. From my recollection, the hare Golden Balls, Penile Dementia and Liberace were top of the down-down league. The RA called more down-downs, too many for yours truly to recall. And then a free for all seemed to prevail, with everyone receiving many down-downs. Suffice to add that the men’s loo was behind a retained wall supporting the cover to the sitting out area. Not sure where the ladies loo might be found!

The circle could not enjoy the warmth of a Liberace inspired BBQ fire this time, but at least the rain held off bar a few drops of rain from time to time. A security guard looked in on us, but fortunately he didn’t seem particularly interested why a group men and women in running gear were intent of drinking as much alcohol as possible. Perhaps he had encountered such groups before?

The evening’s proceedings came to a close around 10pm. An interesting run, a jovial and jolly bucket. Great company. Grand bonhomie. What more could one ask for in the depth of Hong Kong’s Northern New Territories? Until the next time. — Bunter

Hare:Golden balls

Runners: One Eyed Jack, Liberace, Penile Dementia, Catch of the Day, Bunter, Radio One, Geriatric, Qutie, Golden Jelly, No Rough Stuff,