Run 1571 – Not China
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Entrance to Tai Lam Country Park, Tsing Lung Tau
Time: 7.30pm
Hare: Golden Balls
The scheduled Shenzhen run has been postponed due to lack of interest / visas / gumption. LSG will now attempt to host the “Futian Trot” for his birthday in September. Visa alert!
Run 1570
Saved by the Belle
By Serbian Spammer Bomber Baron Diver von Mooseheime
Well – wasn’t this a run of revelations? Those of you who missed it will be shocked, I tell you. Shocked! Rule number 1 has been thrown out the window.
It all started innocently enough. I arrived in good time, having cadged a lift from Plod. We found our hare – Moonie – lurking a 100 metres away from the daipaidong and waited with him for everyone else to arrive.
Then this big flash poncy merc arrived and instead of driving on past to get to the village houses, it parked. LSG climbed out. From Moonie’s comments at the time, Plod and I had no idea how turned on Moonie was by this turn of events. Well! More would be revealed later. Next arrivals, Eunuch and Mango. Eunuch almost rear-ending the parked Mercedes in his eagerness to get out of his car, unload the beer and start running… And then another flash git – a Jaguar. “Who is this?” everyone asked. “Is it One-Eyed Jack?” Wrong. Tooth Hurty – a visitor from Kowloon Hash. Then Golden Balls strolled down the road.
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| Flash git LSG and his Merc after Eunuch had finished with it |
By now 7:30 had arrived and gone and GM Plod had had enough of waiting – or at least he had had enough of waiting in the wafting stink of sewers, and other assorted unpleasant smells. So off we went in search of trail.
At first by clever check hanging I managed to enjoy a nice easy run but, as other runners kept going off checking down wrong trails (or in one case being suckered into checking all the wrong places by GB) and were now behind me, somehow I ended up being the FRB calling trail and checks, with Mango and Plod following behind me. Eunuch caught us after prancing Bambi-like through a shortcut and together we headed on in search of trail.
After searching a few hundred metres down the wrong way from a check I finally found myself behind the pack instead of leading it – except for GB and the hasher he had bamboozled. And after working hard to catch up and keep up, I found myself keeping Plod company at the tail. Tooth Hurty also caught up with us, having finally overcome GB’s explanations to figure out for himself how Moonie’s trail and checks worked.
Eventually as we rounded a final corner – 6.25km from the start – we spied the hare waiting for us in the distance and I sprinted past Plod for a fast finish despite his over-competitive attempt to shove me into the bushes and his dire warnings of “not giving you a lift home”.
Stunned by my finishing with the pack and also by my not getting lost (and not at all out of breath from my sprinting) I failed to notice the ambience at the finish. Soft make-out music playing from speakers… Hare Moonie and non-runner LSG listening to the sounds of Whitney Houston and similar unmanly stuff, with stars in their eyes… All the other hashers nervously hiding behind their beers and keeping their distance, sure that there had been cheek-to-cheek dancing while they were out pounding round the trail… Things had taken a desperate turn with no women on this night’s run.
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| Moonie feeling up LSG, yesterday |
As I was pondering this strange turn of events and the blatant abandonment of rule number 1, late starter One-Eyed Jack arrived back, complaining vigorously about wrongly marked checks. Well, it wasn’t me or Mango. We didn’t mark any of them. Finally GB arrived from completely the wrong direction having forgotten whether you are supposed to follow the point of the arrow or the tail…
During circle, downdowns were handed down for all of the misdeeds catalogued above, and for other perceived misdeeds too. But typical police mentality – Plod didn’t care if he was pursuing the guilty or fitting up the innocent so long as he was giving out downdowns – and somehow I found myself on the receiving end of more than my fair share of these downdowns despite my obvious blamelessness.
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| Golden Jelly: She chops down trees, she wears high heels… |
Then Golden Jelly (who arrived just for circle and thereby single-handedly rescued us from becoming a gay hash) spent some time distributing her home-grown organic “tomatoes and strawberries” and after sampling these sweet wares we all drifted home in a cloud of bliss. Strawberry fields forever!
Hareline
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Mar 13
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1572
|
G-Spot
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Mar 20
|
1573
|
Mango Groove
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Mar 27
|
1574
|
Hard Up / Chris Higgins
|
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Apr 3
|
1575
|
Dingaling
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Ching Ming Eve
|
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Apr 10
|
1576
|
Walky Talky
|
|
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Apr 17
|
1577
|
One Eyed Jack
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Apr 24
|
1578
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Tangerine Dream
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May 1
|
1579
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Golden Balls
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Labour Day
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May 8
|
1580
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Eunuch
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May 15
|
1581
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Salesman
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May 22
|
1582
|
Zimmerframe
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