Run 1877, 20 August, Sheung Shui

Served Cold

Unknown

Heading north. Robert Peary. Roald Amundsen. Ian Botham, Thomas Dolby. None of them had experienced a storm like this. I’d arranged a lift to Sheung Shui with Gunpowder Plod, but he bailed. “There’s a MASSIVE storm system coming down from China and it’s stuck over Sheung Shui,” he blubbed. “The wife doesn’t want me to go…”

Hare Mango Groove’s initial bravado had evaporated. “This lightning is putting the willies up me,” he opined, perhaps revealing a Freudian adoration. “I am a bit scared now. Where is Eunuch when I need a cuddle?”

SAS-trained frontiersman Serbian Bomber was even more rabbit-headlighted. “Torrential rain. Is there still a run?” And Luk Sup Gow, heading in from Shenzhen, added, “Bring your handy lightning protectors… absolute World War 3 broken out here in China.” Even the normally stoic shortcutter One Eyed Jack was moved to comment: “Mango, you have just gone up in a puff of smoke.”

But it turned out Mango was made of sterner stuff, and issued his own thunderstorm warning: “Members of the public are advised to take the following precautions when thunderstorms occur: 1. Stay indoors. Seek shelter in buildings if you are engaging in outdoor activities. The hash is ok though cos you are a bunch of morons and deserve to be struck by lightning. 2. Do not stand on high ground. Keep away from highly conductive objects, trees or masts. Unless Mango sets a trail to the top of a big fucking hill. 3. Wear a condom.”

Arriving late at Jockey Club Park in Shek Wu Hui, I was surprised by how many had actually made the effort to run in these shit conditions. A pack of about a dozen had turned up to the back of beyond in an enormous thunderstorm (it blew trees down near my gaff nearby), including the unbearably smug Velcro Lips, who now has a posh address in Stanley. That’s quite a journey!

Mango had set off to re-mark the trail – it turned out to be A trail, not THE trail, and off we went into the parallel-trader universe of Shek Wu Hui, running down streets and alleys lined with pharmacies and dodging the wheeled suitcases of mainlanders.

It didn’t take long for the front-runners to get through the melee, but they were stymied by a crossroads check. Liberace had done the straight-ahead direction and come back wih his usual plaintive “no marking”, but I managed to find trail down the same avenue within five metres, and delighted in the customary haranguing that followed me as I trundled on. “You fucking moron Liberace!” was one of the more charitable comments.

Then something weird happened in my calf and I walked the rest of the trail with Back To The Future, Golden Jelly and Liberace. ‘Twas clearly an abridged route as we never got more than five metres above nullah level, and in fact followed a nullah for 2km of mind-numbing numptiness – but at least there was a run. Let us commend Mango for going out into the unknown when his painstakingly set original trail was blasted from the face of the Earth by the wanton forces of nature, that kill us for its sport… or something.

There were Marmite biscuits at the finish courtesy of Geriatric, and a lively circle dominated by the RA, who claimed that he missed out on the Jaffa Cakes provided by Mango at the run two weeks prior, when Mango gave the RA’s designated Jaffa Cake to Serbian Bomber, who wanted a second one like the gutsy chubber he is. The RA intoned: “Revenge is a dish best served cold … and wet … Nuff said. – RA

Hare: Mango Groove

Runners: Liberace, Eunuch, Creme Brulee, One Eyed Jack, Back To The Future, Geriatric, Golden Jelly, Golden Balls

Pussies: South Side Pushover, Velcro Lips, Catch Of The Day

 

Run 1876, 15 August, San Tin

Gone Fishin’

fishponds

A good sized pack of enthusiasts (and Gunpowder Plod) assembled in a dark lane under a looming archway guarded by two large mythical Chinese beasts (or perhaps they were Golden Balls and Serbian Bomber – difficult to distinguish in the gloom).

The Hare, Golden Jelly, announced that she had held hands with Back to the Future setting this run which promised a single hill with a “slippery descent” and only one trail of “about 5K”. (It was more like 8K!!)

She then pointed up the steps into the park and we were off. Well, not Plod who likening not the prospect of said slippery descent, ran off around the hill intent on a premature interception.

He failed and, at about the same time that Liberace ran back down the steps complaining “No twail, NO TWAIL!!”, ran all the way around the hill back to the Start.

Sent back out with typically obscure feminine instructions, Liberace tried the hill again and Plod found Dram wondering aimlessly on the main road before they encountered Back to the Future sweeping who pointed them in the right direction and then buggered off in pursuit of the pack.

The trail led us off northwards towards the alluring neon lights of the Motherland around a succession of fish ponds, although Dram went off trail for a while and Plod found a wandering Mango Groove who had lost touch while picking Mangos and admiring the Jackfruit. (“Loves Fruits” might be a better name for this poor lost soul…).

The three then managed to short-cut to rejoin the rear of the pack heading back towards the start. But the start was a long way off and despite catching the pack again after a long, cunning check-back that brought the whole pack together, Plod was last home behind Dram and a charging Golden Balls who’d started late in an hour and a half – except for the even later arriving Eunuch family, all eight little legs pattering in shortly afterwards.

In the meantime, Mango and GB got lost in San Tin village (one village wag offering to call them a taxi) and by my reckoning nobody managed to follow trail 100 percent in the last half mile except perhaps said Eunuch family.

The Circle, in the absence of most of the mismanagement, was run by Serbian Bomber and Golden Balls with contributions by Richard Billingham @ Liberace, Gunpowder Plod and others.

A hard core of Golden Balls and Jelly, Mango Groove, Gunpowder Plod and Radio 1 then assembled at a daipaidong across the road for a spicy scoff and Blue Girl. – Gunpowder Plod

Hares: Golden Jelly, Back To The Future

Runners: Serbian Bomber, Radio 1, Mango Groove, Liberace, Dram, Gunpowder Plod, Golden Balls, Piss In Bucket, Eunuch, Antiseptic, Ruth, Liberace, One Eyed Jack, Penile Dementia

Run 1875, 8 August, Sheung Shui

mmm

image

In a world where Winnie the Pooh is considered a subversive element, one man is willing to stand up and set a hash in Sheung Shui.

Watch in disbelief as Liberace takes on the establishment, setting a trial around the tower blocks, roads and rail lines. Enjoy the comradery of the pack lost and confused at each check, comforting each other with cries of “are you” and ultimately, “on trail”. Revel in the beauty of the natural environment as the pack explores the overgrown riverside and road embankments. Swoon as Gaelle Says No rips off his top to expose his toned body. Be shocked as the ground gives way below the GM, leaving him perilously  suspended above a bottomless pit and abandoned by the pack.

Suspend your disbelief and wonder how Golden Balls finds himself at the front of the pack only to drop back again as he struggles up the road embankment. Witness the return of Mango Grove, following his enforced absence due to unfounded allegations about his poor calling and and sense of direction.

Share the joy of the Eunuch family, as they introduce their children to the dark area of Sheung Shui. Will the boys survive, or turn to plastic toys to stave off their craving for crisps and computer games?  Enjoy the slapstick antics of QT as he runs off in the wrong direction and comes in first, completing the 8km run in only 7.5km. A star in the making, and one who will not show up on Serbian Bomber’s new app, “Babes in Bathrooms” (available for download from the hash store); just point at a house and the app will show you a babe of your selection in the bathroom.

Its not every day that a trail is set; its not every week that a good trail emerges from the dark, and its not every year that Dram enjoys himself!

The papers described the trail as “unimaginable” (South China Moaning Post), “eye opening” (The Standard) and “nice tits” (Apple Daily). – Dingaling

Hare: Liberace

Runners:

\

Run 1874, 1 August, Sha Lo Tung

Sabotage!

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_9b32

Billy Jizz set the tone when hare Creme Brulee announced his “wet” run at Sha Lo Tung:

“Beware of the water snakes. Anyone remember Dingaling’s run from a few years ago, same start location? GB swimming torch in mouth, Mango and Eunuch screaming SNAKE, SNAKE, panic in those following, oh the memories…”

There was also the incident on that run where One Eyed Jack fell three metres off a slippery rock into the engorged river. So with this sort of pedigree it was little surprise to meet a Sha Lo Tung native driving down the road as I went up, demanding what we were doing and asking what the “white powder” in the village was – powder that he’d just washed away, thinking it was dog poison. After the car reversing palaver on the narrow ascent I missed the start, runners and hare alike unaware of the missing section of trail. This looked set to be another disaster.

The hare warned of extreme shiggy on the rambo route, and to go right around the new house, not left. As I set off, fellow late starter Golden Jelly moaned that her torch was dying and opted to do her own thing. So off I set into the dark, but it wasn’t long before I caught the small pack at abandoned Lei Uk village (not the one near the road head – more on that later). They were coming back from something or other. Gaelle Says No plunged down a slope and yelled “Trail!” We were on.

Easy trail followed until we reached a new house fenced off in the middle of nowhere. Was there a check? I can’t remember, but hashers were thrashing around in various directions. Liberace had gone to the right of the house, as the hare had advised me, presumably to help me catch the pack. Very soon Liberace returned with the inevitability of night following day. “No markings!” He’d gone about 30 metres. I continued following the fence until I came to a washed-out blob of flour. “Trail!” At this point I hadn’t revealed my inside knowledge to the pack, and they chased me down the access road of the new house until we reached a check on the dirt road that connects the roadhead with Cheung Uk Village. Golden Jelly was there.

At this point I called the pack together and told them what I knew. There were only two ways to go and one led left back to the bucket, so we all headed right towards Cheung Uk, except Liberace, who insisted volubly that we’d just come from that direction.Who scrambled the compass in his head?

Nobody could find any trail. We split into two teams, with QT, Liberace and Dingaling checking through the village and Gaelle Says No, Eunuch and myself taking the trails towards Hok Tau. After almost a kilometre we finally admitted we weren’t on trail and split three ways, GSN running the whole Sha Lo Tung loop, Eunuch probing east and me heading back towards Cheung Uk. The village unit hadn’t fared any better, and after being out for around 40 minutes we followed the on-home arrows back to the roadhead, having missed the promised extreme shiggy.

The GM had a spread waiting for us: salami, pickled onions, crusty bread, a large sort of camembert whose name eludes me, and a magnum of rose. He also explained that we’d short cut the run at Lei Uk and got ourselves onto the wimp trail, so being good little hashers Dingaling and Eunuch set off again while we scoffed their nosh.

A carload of young people arrived to see the fireflies and we bade them good evening in a civil, friendly manner and helped them on their way. We didn’t see them again until the end of the superbly raucous circle. They emerged from the dark to the sight of the entire pack, who had been given a gloating down down by GB for not winning the Tour de France, throwing their rancid suds as one over me, in the end the only hasher to be soaked.

Eunuch and Dingaling produced a “go home” sign they’d found in eerie circumstances in the shiggy, but it wasn’t part of a pernicious village plot  – it was the work of Creme Brulee’s son. As the circle wound down the GM suddenly shinned up a tree to fetch a light he’d hung there earlier. Competition for South Lantau’s Tree Climber at last!

And so the run was sabotaged. Some will see it as due comeuppance for another instance of Sha Lo Tung sabotage a few years back. But we don’t talk about that…  – Golden Balls

Hare: Creme Brulee

Runners: Golden Jelly, Gaelle Says No, Eunuch, Golden Balls, Dingaling, QT, Liberace

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_9b33

Run 1873, 25 July, Lam Tsuen

Pizza Express

caiteatprofilepic

The pack  of about 15 runners and hangers-on assembled at San Uk Tsai (aka Fong Ma Po? ) park  to be briefed by our esteemed hare, Dingaling, who assured us it was a shortish run – about 40 minutes or so – and  included a section of “virgin trail” cut through shiggy cleared by his own fair hand wielding a machete. The GM – being French – dithered about giving the off pending the arrival of Liberace with the ice, so our geriatric members (Plod and my goodself, D RAM), through long experience of Dingaling’s normal “commando” type runs, decided to jump the gun and set off in advance of the sheep. Shortly thereafter we came upon Liberace hopelessly lost (as usual) who we directed to the start with the ice before running on. Unfortunately we didn’t get far before being flummoxed by the 1st check (by the Super-Toilet). But not to worry, I thought, here comes the pack led by Rogan Josh who I  assumed  would have some insight  into the trail, he being the son of the hare. I thus followed him but after running around exhaustingly  I realised he hadn’t a clue. Fortunately, “on on” was called by  others, albeit taking us in almost the opposite direction. The pack ran across a wide paved area to cross  Lam Tsuen Road but to be  flummoxed yet again by another check, this time near the Hang Ha Po public toilet (Dingaling obviously likes checking public toilets but let’s not dwell on this aspect of his character). Eventually trail was found which took us into a dark and heavily vegetated bog to a further check where the pack milled around for an extended period like headless chickens. I’m ashamed to say (liar!) I chickened out at this point and headed home for a refreshing beer and the promised  pizza, leaving our keener members to run on.

I thus have no personal knowledge of what happened on the trail thereafter but from feedback gleaned from the pack once they arrived back home and a “Strava” map  from Cutie I understand that the trail out of the bog eventually headed up some well hidden steps through thick bush up to a very steep and muddy bank  where GB (or was it Serbian Bomber ? ) loitered about to kindly assist some of our lady members uphill  by placing their hands on rumps and pushing. Unfortunately GB, after pushing Golden Jelly up the by now slippery mudslide was reportedly unable to get up the bank himself and retreated home with visitor Christine in tow, whereas I understand Serbian, with his SAS training, having “assisted” Back To The Future, managed to get up. The trail then went for about 150 metres through the  shiggy (virgin?) trail  cut earlierby Dingaling  and then on to the paved road to the WSD Water Treatment Plant before taking a right turn beside a stream course and back down into Lam Tsuen valley and home.

Trail length 3.2km. Needless to say the first full runner back was our super athlete Gaelle Says No who was back in about 30 minutes, although the majority of the pack took were nearer Dingaling’s predicted 40 minutes.The consensus was a well set run with a good mixture of road, hill  and shiggy.

An entertaining circle was held under master-of-ceremonies Crème Brulee with interruptions from GB, Eunuch, Plod and others whilst the pack gorged themselves on a  splendid selection of very tasty pizzas and dough balls with gravy, all home made by Overdue. Antiseptic was announced as winner of the World Cup competition having correctly predicted France, much to the delight of Crème Brulee.

91TBW2fOugL._UX679_

 Hare: Dingaling

Runners: Dram, Back To The Future, Liberace, Creme Brulee, Christine, Gunpowder Plod, Gaelle Says No, Serbian Bomber, Eunuch, Antiseptic, QT, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Rogan Josh

Non-runners: Overdue, T Bird

Run 1872, 18 July, Tai Mo Shan

The Shame

champagne

The shame was not that France won the World Cup, nor that the French GM was demoniacal in his gloating, nor even that his celebratory two bottles of Nicolas Feuillatte Brut Reserve (creme de cassis, lemon curd and pastry riding a creamy mousse and framed by a crisp, well-knit acidity) were trumped by Back To The Future’s three bottles of Marquis de Rothberg Chardonnay Ice Demi-Sec (fruity with notes of vanilla, smoke and hints of sweet spices). No, the shame lay in the distasteful and grossly unedifying spectacle of hashers begging for down-downs like performing seals or craven cringing dogs. Anything, anything, to get another glass of bubbly. It made you do a little bit of sick in your mouth. Which you then had to wash out with champagne.

But what of Serbian Bomber’s run after the thunderstorms of the past few days? Let One Eyed Jack tell the tale…

Loneliness of an FRB (Alleged)

Well after reaching the pagoda near the car park, we (that is Gerriatric and OEJ) decided to have a look around for the hare. Eventually this apparition of a big drip of Sauvignon appeared closely followed by his SP, Back To The Future. During our preliminary chatter, the hare spun a lot of BS about his trail markings and how good they were. There was then a brief spell of wind and a rain shower at about 7:15. So at 7:20 the gathered pack decided that it was getting cold and that they should commence on the run, albeit by walking!

So off we went, down to the first check, left, on to the second, right, the third, straight, the fourth, left, and on to a wimp/rambo split. Gerriatric went up the steps on the wimp trail and OEJ set off down the pig trail. The shiggy was not too bad, but the freshly watered ground was like an ice skating rink on the side of a hill. The markings had suffered from the rain, not much sign of chalk (obviously), flour was a little better, but very small heaps as if they had been placed with a teaspoon. The toilet paper had the appearance of white streaky, elongated, dripping slime – if it was still hanging where placed – or was seen as a white puddle or blob on the ground. I think the hare had only used two-ply rather than the rather more luxurious and desirable three- or four-ply. Not easy to follow! After numerous more checks, a river crossing and then the descent we began to take head up towards Tai Mo Shan Road. Almost all of the trail thus far had been bushwacking – no path to speak of. It was at this point I heard Eunuch’s shouts of traaaail. So being such I kind hearted front runner, I started marking the trail with green noticeable leaves. Eunuch announced later that he didn’t see them, probably because he wasn’t wearing his colour blind vision-correction glasses. The GM confirmed that he had seen the marks. So at least I wasn’t telling porkies. Speaking of such, nearing the top of the trail a large wild boar was disturbed, which I tried to encourage to run down the trail towards the chasing pack. I believe it came close. Onto the road and up hill, right, then eventually left and back down the Maclehose, passing one cow sheltering from the rain and then KY doing her own thing. First rambo back, not too bad an achievement considering I had to solve every check.

The hare was complaining of a snake bite, didn’t know what type, Golden Balls commented that the snake died afterwards, even though there was no actual poison effect on the hare’s leg, just two small beads of blood that could have been caused by a branch.

The circle was extremely lively, with the GM doling out champagne (kindly donated by himself and Back to The Future) for down downs, at the rate of half a bottle per hasher. All on account of France’s World Cup win. These eventually proved to be too much for BTTF, who fell asleep in the pagoda and then insisted on sleeping for an hour in her car. When she woke up the police had set a road block on Route Twisk so she had to go back to the car park and wait until they’d packed up.  – One Eyed Jack

Excellent shiggy and a well marked trail given the conditions. Great circle.

Hares: Serbian Bomber, Back To The Future

Runners: Liberace, Eunuch, Geriatric, Creme Brulee, Radio 1, One Eyed Jack, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly

Non-runner: Dingaling