Run 1601

The Night of a Thousand Cervical Vertebrae
By G-Spot
And so with the conviction that the hare would have to set a cracker as a statistical certainty a hardy bunch of hashers set out to find a pagoda whose location was indicated as poorly as ever on Centamap. At some time around 7.30 G-Spot and Vecro’s cars passed one another along some road or other, evidence already appearing of a number of additional vertebrae. A moment or 2 later a phone call from a completely lost V Lips (by now with an intolerable number of additional cervical vertebrae) wishing the hash well and forwarding her apologies for non attendance in Anglo-Saxon words of around 4 letters.
Eventual arrival at the gravel carpark revealed to me a gaggle of optimists including One Eyed Jack, Eunuch, Walky Talky, Mango Groove, Hard Up and erm… no that was it. There was however the strange aura that indicated the nearby presence of the hallowed GM. (Oh, apparently it’s a swift not an aura)
“It’s marked in flour, chalk & paper and starts here,” announced the hare, pointing at a check adorned with the word “start”. With these words the pack split up in four directions until a call of check was heard from beneath a lucky tree at the roadside. Once more hashers checked in all directions to no avail. Then the hare crept from the darkness and marked it straight on and the pack minus Eunuch followed that arrow. On and on in the direction of that arrow with no sign of marking until at last a call. Walkie Talkie crushed a calcareous dog turd beneth her purple Adidas and pronounced it “trail”, so onward they ran to, eventually, a road with a perpendicular chalk arrow. “We must have gone wrong. Never mind.”
The trail then ducked around shiggy lite and ponds until we were reunited with the hare grinning on a check near some dog borstal. Yours truly and OEJ were left behind by the youthful speed of Mango and WT until they were found, WT gnashing teeth and swearing having gone the wrong way in some rather long grass, only saved by the navigational facility of the neck extension, and then to Mango, hysterically jabbering as he cowered behind a tree having once more succumbed to his buffalophobia. “They’re looking at me!” he screamed. “And one of them is quite big. Don’t let them stampede!” A swift and unsentimental slap around the face from OEJ brought him out of the hallucination and we continued on trail past some big rocks.
The yellow brick road then lead us to the Kam Tin Steppe, a vast open grassed plain erratically populated by blobs of flour, across which we swept majestically, now accompanied by Eunuch
Bog paper then lured the pack onto a gravel road opening out into a desolate bit of dodgy development. Eventually more trail was found leading into some promising looking shiggy. “Hoorah!” went the cry of the FRBs only to be flattened by the chalked message “Reverse to home”. In his confusion Mango ran headlong into a swampy bit whereupon his shoes went George Michael (1) on him much to his chagrin and cervical extension.
As the pack retraced their steps, dejected and fuming, a side turning was spied and, as “Home” means any way you like (Hash Rule 2387 a (xxi)) the 200m direct shortcut to the bucket was taken. Cruelly the hopes of the pack were once more crushed – not just by the hunched figure of the returned GM – but the complete lack of a bloody bucket! The GM was joined in despondent hunching until the idea of nicking Eunuch’s pissless piss was hatched. The mirth induced by even pissless piss was greatly enhanced by tales of Salesman’s threat to “sort out that Eunuch”, and of course the arrival of the hare, who had been hiding on trail to gloat at the returning pack, only to have his fireworks pissed on by the shortcut. And with little further ado, bucketless and circleless, all flounced off in their chosen directions. 
(1) Oh come on, you know the joke.

Clusterfuck – Run No. …Oh, Whatthehell

By Salesman

Could feel it in my bones since the day before – then the ominous clues and hints just continued to roll. 

was looking forward to an eclectic twist from our seasoned hares, and was not disappointed.

I received the location notification later than most. I glanced at the email on my mobile which said something about Kam Tin, fung shui tee, gravel car park where we had been before.
After an overshoot, and a visit to the tree house and carpark where we had run from before, at 8pm I eventually found the big gravel car park (very dark) – and spotted Eunuch’s car and a few other cars (too few…mmmm), and wandered o’er towards the pagoda where at once I came across our lonely, pouting host, Hard Up, who did not recognise me at first as she was sitting in a trance guarding a cardboard box containing few warm non-acloholic large tins of Oettinger beer. 

She said, “They’ve gone, a few minutes ago (!) – you’ll catch them easily (!!)” …Mmm..
“Which direction?”, said I, stroking my imaginary pet trouser ferret, though I had no trousers. 
“Down there,” said Hard Up, pointing in her delightfully upbeat, pert way.
“And then?”
“Turn left.” 
“Not right?” I demonstrated with my free hand, facing the same direction as Hard Up, “but left, i.e. this is left, as in my my left hand is pointing left?”
“Yes”, said she, beginning to feel that perhaps I was being a little pedantic.
“Not straight on at this junction, then?”
“No, left”.
OK, I was now certain that it will be left at the first check or junction then.

Off I bounded, got to the village road junction, noticed a circle, and went left. No markings. …Mmmmm

So, I came back to the check and out of nowhere came Eunuch, brushing past me like I was not there, no hello, no eye contact or nothing. I said hello, and he said, “There’s no fucking markings, I’ve been up there and there and there”.
I told him Hard Up said most certainly it was left. Eunuch said, “You can go down there then if you want, I’ve been down there and there’s no markings,” etc.  ….mmmm…
Then I spotted a fresh arrow marked straight ahead on the check (i.e. not left or right). I said, “What about that?”
Eunuch retorted, “There’s no fucking markings, Ive been up there and there and there.”I said, “But I expect weirdness from a Won Hung Lo run….come, let us go hashing together.” 
To which Eunuch muttered, “You can blah, blah…” and then simply vanished. …..mmmkay…

I checked every direction for about 250m, whereupon I met a returning Gunpowder Plod. We ambled back On Home, and he mentioned that Eunuch had growled at him. 
“Aha, so trail was right from the check then?” I asked.
“Er, dunno” said Plod, who had just ambled until he saw flour and followed for a while, then returned. …..mmmm-ora..
I jokingly (of course!) said that I had better abort or I might have to have it out with Eunuch for perceived poo-pooing of me. Plod said he will feature this threat of violence within the circle. Mmmm, thought I.

Then Tangerine Dream texted Plod to say she’s not coming (i.e. not bringing the blizzard cold piss). Big MMMMMmmmshitolammmmmmmm.

Hard Up repeated that the trail is left at the first check. …..Mmmm.

Ok, I’ll try again…but first….I shall just go and put my bag in the car…in case y’all gone when I get back…..mmmmmmmmmm

Clunk… …….brmm, brmmm………stop…..pangs of guilt….check for trail on road left of check…..nothing…..text to GM to say bye-bye, I’m aborting… (which he received 18 hours later)!

My first ever hash veto. Well done, Hares!

Run 1601 / Report Run 1600

Run 1601

Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Kam Tin area
Hares: One Hung Lo, Hard Up

Next hare: October 2, Luk Sup Gow
Note: NOT a Shenzhen run as it’s a public holiday in China and LSG has the luxury of setting a run in Hong Kong
The hareline

Run 1600
Coming East With A Salty Wad In My Eye
By Go West

Gosh! What an honour I had bestowed on me when our illustrious GM coerced me to write something about the 1600th run. Makes that 16-hour flight on Air China for one of my regular pilgrimages to Hong Kong well worth it.

Great choice of venue for our 1600th run – a pub. And probably the best pub in Tai Po, no less – The King’s Belly. We all assembled and listened in on the hare’s not so brief briefing, in which he admitted the markings would be of that lesser hash from Sai Kung. For extra guidance, orange ribbons tied on trees were definitely on trail. So chalk arrows may not be?

We set off heading south and eventually climbed up through Ha Wong Yi Au Village and into shiggy

 and on up to the abandoned Sheung Wong Yi Au Village

. The trail was well marked with tricky checks which kept the pack together. It turns out the hare got lost


 The pack stayed together until we came back onto the road near Savannah Garden and the pace quickened with Mango racing to the front. Moonie headed off down to Sea View Villas before realising he had gone wrong. He decided he’d had enough and went straight back to the pub down Tai Po Road, ignoring the markings so that he could get to the beer first. Mango and Salesman continued to race, followed by Walkie Talkie, One Eyed Jack and Dingaling. The trail veered off Tai Po Road through Trackside Villas and under the Tolo Highway and back along the cycle track to the pub. 

The hash was won by Salesman, despite the best cheating efforts of Mango who decided not to follow the safety of the subways at the Kwong Fuk crossroads, and instead took on the traffic along the road. 

Our GM conducted the circle with the usual hash chaos. His research had shown some relevance to our hash run number that in 1600 the British East India Co was chartered and Jimi Hendrix died on 18th September in 1970. Most hashers weren’t really listening to this though, and were instead discussing what outfits they would wear at this year’s hash Christmas party, with bible themes seeming to be the most popular. Several non-runners joined us, including Farty, Victim, Golden Balls, Overdue, Tangerine Dream and Ginger M


n. Eunuch was there at the start of the run, but went home claiming sickness (poof) and Bogbrush was loitering in the wings, but disappeared inexplicably.

In all, a great night’s hashing. I look forward to my next visit when I can run with the best hash in the World again. Hoorah!


Run 1600 / Report Run 1599

The King’s Belly, 1600

Wednesday, September 18, 2013
King’s Belly, Tai Po
Hare: Gunpowder Plod

Hare says: A to A. Possibly some 1600 fare…

Run 1599
You Reptile

Luk Sup Gow’s birthday runs over the border always pack a surprise. Last year it was the beerfest at Window of the World; this year he’d spied out a commendable new pub on the Shekou scene.

The run started at McCawley’s, where the tiny pack comprising Dingaling, Overdue, One Eyed Jack, Golden Balls and hare Luk Sup Gow took some time to solve the first check. First off it was thought trail would head down the alley towards the chicken coops but Overdue declared a check-back and we ended up back at the start. Then trail was called across the road and past the decaying masonry of the old Snake Pit…to a dead end. Trail was found through a restaurant where the maitre d’ discouraged us from going further, into a back alley and round the corner to the splendid new George & Dragon. Fluids were replenished here as we admired the brasses on the walls and the warm ambience of this hash halt, and then we were set on our way through Sea World, past the rusting hulk of the old floating hotel and into a dismal place with football on telly. Before long we found the check-back and headed back towards Sea World, up some steps and into a large auditorium-type place full of punters, whose name eludes me. Nourishment was procured, for we had been hashing for almost two hours. Then LSG announced it was time for tits and inexplicably jumped into a taxi. We all followed like good boys and girls.

Next run: Wan Hung Lo, September 25
The hareline

Run 1599, September 11, 2013

Run 1599

Wednesday, September 11, 2013
McCawley’s bar, Sea World, Shenzhen
Hare: Luk Sup Gow

Getting there:
From Futian checkpoint (reached by MTR Lok Ma Chau Spur Line): Take the Metro to Sea World station or share a taxi to Sea World.
Metro map

From Yuen Long MTR bus station: Bus B2 to Shenzhen Bay (every 15 minutes, journey 25 minutes, fare $12), then taxi to Sea World.

Hare says: “I’ll be at McCawley’s at 7pm. Turn up as soon as you can and we’ll take it from there. The Milky Bars are on me!”

Next run, Wednesday September 18, Gunpowder Plod: Run 1600
The hareline

Run 1598 / Report Run 1597

Run 1598, September 4, 2013

Run starts 7.30pm
Hong Lok Yuen – small road next to the railway bridge
Park in small road
Taxi from Tai Wo station, around $20
Hare: Tangerine Dream – birthday run

Next run: September 11, Luk Sup Gow. China visa required

Run 1597
A Warp in the Park

Hare Mango Groove promised a flat 45-minute run with a tall shiggy section. Eight runners trotted auspiciously out of Fanling Recreation Ground and turned left towards Sheung Shui. A jaunt around some old village tenements with a big pond and some cannons. The pack split: Velcro Lips went back to the start; G-Spot, Eunuch and Stingray sniffed out trail; One Eyed Jack, Salesman and Dingaling missed it; and Golden Balls was walking anyway. It all looked a bit like the trail Salesman set for SKH3 a couple of months back, so why he didn’t go up the big pedestrian bridge over the highway and railway towards the hills was a mystery. As it was, the ambulating Balls led the Salesband over the bridge and despite walking managed to stay within sight of the inept trio as they made mistake after mistake. Then it was the shiggy, a trampled path up through undergrowth past graves, over the crest of a hill and down the other side. GB could see Salesman ahead as they approached the west side of Fanling station and the finish – then Salesman disappeared! GB found trail heading north along the cycling track and could see Dingaling and Sam the mutt in front of him. Then they disappeared! GB thought it was deja vu all over again as he recognised bits of the trail from some other run – or was it this one? An utterly confused GB finally got back to the park as a revolt was setting in: Stingray’s increasingly bewildering beer selection had the punters up in arms. No decent grog! Luckily GB had a bottle of wine in his bag, just by chance, and proceeded to neck it. Salesman took charge of the circle and turned it into a debate on something unforgettably esoteric. After five minutes he wondered idly if we had a hare. Mango poured cold Skol (the best of the beer on offer), a general anti-hashness prevailed and nobody did silly hashy things. Instead we all had a bloody good larf.