Run 1627, Kam Tin, 26 March 2014

Editor’s warning: The Kam Tin “aroma” the writer cites early in this report is clearly hallucinatory; our scribe’s version of events peopled with all sorts of mysterious characters. If you don’t want your head messed with, leave now.

There Again and Back

By Screwless


This was the second N2TH3 run I’ve attended and ’twas a jolly little number lain by Fartypants and his “mystery returnee”, who, as it turned out, was the not so mysterious Cock Of The South, who’d slunk back for reasons undeclared; but one that suspects the allure of big men playing with odd shaped balls may have something to do with it.

The start was at the fragrant Kat Hing Wai playground, a delightful spot beneath the glowering walls of the er… walled village; the air pregnant with the aroma of suppressed violence and racial tension. Upon arrival I found Lost at Sea* seemingly rummaging through a sack of old clothes, which I presumed he’d nicked from the skip round the back of the nearby Salvation Army Hostel. It was only when said bag of jumble spoke that I realised it was, in fact, Big Moany in his grandfather’s socks and footie bags. The rummaging bit was seemingly a trick of the light.

The pack of hounds trickled in, all well after the 7:30 start time, eventually meandering off to do the run at a bit before eight. The route ran (or strolled in my case) up to Wellcome, then left and under the bypass to an immediate and cunning right up the cycle path. This confused the “But we never go that way” pack, who carried straight on over the nullah as per usual. We then followed the bypass and turned left through Tai Kong Po Village, heading towards hills and the smell of pig shit. Past the pigs we climbed up to a lovely little contour path above the pig farms leading out to a little ridge with splendid views. A lovely bit of the run, which I presume was only included by accident. “I can see the stars!” cried a tearful and emotionally vulnerable Velcro, distraught at the thought of her husband’s imminent return from Indonesia.

On down the ridge, back into what passes in Kam Tin for civilisation, then heading west past Kam Tin Country Club (who wouldn’t let us in as we weren’t wearing ties), through the historic and interesting village of Shui Mei Tsuen (missing all the historic and interesting bits) and thence back to Kam Tin.

The trail was parsimoniously marked, I’ve seen more flour dusted on a loaf of bread. But no one complained other than Eunuch who was, as a consequence, roundly pilloried for his masturbatory tendencies.

The usual circle shenanigans ensued, with Salesman taking the lead. It was however somewhat delayed as all the beer had been drunk by the FRBs, the swines. Once enbeered, Salesman demonstrated his new hygienic down-down technique of standing on a bench and pouring said down-downs into mouths from a height. No more dirty cups for the N2TH3!

Down downs various were issued: Catch Of The Day for distracting the boys with her underwear and akimbo poses, Mango Groove for still having silly hair, Cock Of The South for having the temerity to turn up, Lost At Sea** for beer crimes and breaking the esky, Eunuch for moaning.

Shenanigans over, most repaired to the daipaidong where a special alfresco soundproof booth had been constructed to stop us upsetting the natives. The staff were all very happy to see me as I told them you owed me money and would be paying off my outstanding beer and noodle bill. Much beer was consumed and some top food delivered. Sweet and sour fish, veggies with dried fish, meat with nuts and celery, deep fried squid, chow fan and beef and black pepper sauce combo, all inspired. Well done Catch Of The Day for the menu choices, $55 dollar a head if memory serves.

*Skinny cove, somewhat balding with big specs. Always smiling. Somewhat clipped accent; always expect him to end each sentence with a “What what”.

** if it be he; may be someone else entirely.


Run 1627, Kam Tin, 26 March 2014

Kam Tin

Date: Wednesday, 26 March, 2014

Time: 7.30pm

Place: Kat Hing Wai playground, Kam Tin (next to the walled village)

Get there: Short walk from Kam Sheung Rd MTR station

Park: Wherever you can find space

Hare: Fartypants

Hare says: Possible mystery returnee who I also hope to cajole into SPing…assuming the plane gets to Beijing first. On on planned at the Kam Tin pigeonsula.

Receding hareline

1627 April 2 hare needed

1628 April 5 Golden Balls (Saturday 2.30pm)

1629 April 9 hare needed

1630 April 16 Liberace

1631 April 23 Velcro Lips

1632 April 30 Dram

1626, King’s Belly, 19 March 2014


By Gunpowder Plod

Tai Po 1949

Gunpowder Plod’s 67th birthday “run with a difference” had everybody guessing – and the difference was NO MARKINGS. Instead the pack was given 60 minutes to discover the answers to 22 questions – including “How many mickey mice at Golden Balls’ monument?” – with penalties for late return.

The pack meandered into the King’s Belly and, in Velcro Lips’ case, meandered out, never to be seen again. The remainder listened attentively to Plod’s briefing and went off at 7.45 clutching their clue sheets and maps and scratching their heads while Plod tucked into a nice burger and Dram and LSG supped ale and nattered about lost planes, loose women and tight skirts and Scotsmen.

All but one shuffled back in on or nearly on time and the results were:

Mango 24

Eunuch 22

Stingray 17-5 = 12

OEJ 17-5 = 12

GB 3

Then we all realised that Catch of the Day, who had prepared for the event by drinking 3/4 bottle of plonko rosso, had not returned. So…we started the circle without her. There being only minor functionaries from the N2TH3 committee (appointed by former GM Plod), Plod took charge and gave various down downs including to Mango for upsetting a couple copulating in the tower and to Golden Balls for trying to work out all the answers while hiding at the far end of the bar.

Catch of the Day finally came in after two hours, obviously the worse for wear, scoring 15-60 = -45 and complaining that she should have been given the clues in Japanese. Cutie then bounced into the circle after her all smiling and sweaty, which the rest of us found slightly suspicious….

King's Belly

Date: Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Time: 7.30pm

Place: King’s Belly, Tai Po

Hare: Gunpowder Plod

Parking: Metered parking just outside King’s Belly

MTR: 5 minutes walk from Tai Po station

Hare says: It’ll be a run with a difference

1625, Fanling Wai, 12 March 2014

Unhung Hero

By Golden Balls


The Hareline said Serbian Bomber, and indeed the Bomber had announced his intention of theming the run along porn stud lines, with himself as Ron Jeremy. “I notice I have Ron Jeremy’s birthday,” he boasted, “so big fake moustaches will be mandatory, plus anyone who needs extra endowment to stuff a spare pair of socks down their undies. You can start to grow a big moustache now, or wear a fake moustache for the circle. No moustache = downdowns,” he ordained.

As the date of the run approached, speculation grew. Would Serbian Bomber really turn up with a spare pair of socks down his Y-fronts (rumour is he doesn’t need it)? Would John Holmes be resurrected? Would there be a surprise appearance by Salty Wad In My Eye, aka Peter North(am)? Would Golden Balls reprise his role as, well, Goldenballs?


Then something came up and Serbian had to withdraw as hare, leaving a shabby trail of half-grown moutaches in his wake. And a great gaping hole where the hare ought to be. Even on the morning of the run Stingray was heard plaintively asking “Is there goin to be a run tonight?”

Of course there was a run. This is the Northern New Territories Hash, expert at salvaging non-runs that would have other hashes on their knees. And so stepped forward a knight, an unhung hero, the GM, Salesman, with a fine run from his very own gaff in Fanling Wai.

A excellent hour’s jaunt, where I led the pack over the bridge across the railway and around the houses towards PTU after they’d all gone wrong at the start. Pausing for a moment in a graveyard to relieve myself of an extra pair of socks, I lost touch with the pack, but there were loads of checks and after trail had descended into the demi-agricultural Fanlinglands I caught them up returning from a check-back. Mango seemed to know the way and gloated about his local knowledge. Then a tricky bit where trail went along the edge of a nullah. Eunuch was leading and decided not to backtrack with everybody else but picked up an old Kowloon Hash trail from nine days previously, which he disappeared on. As Velcro and I once again fell behind the pack we were passed by Mango and then Stingray, who had followed Mango and his “local knowledge” onto another part of the Kowloon run, set by Mango himself! Local knowledge indeed, I sneered as Mango sprinted desperately for the finish. Dingaling was back further still, another victim of Mango’s local knowledge.

A fine run with the pack within calling distance of each other for most of the run. And not a moustache in sight.

Fanling Wai

Date: 12 March 2014

Time: 7.30pm

Location: House 673, Fanling Wai, off San Wan Road, Fanling, just immediately to right of Gates of Fanling Public School, which is end of cul-de-sac off San Wan Road, almost opposite Fanling Swimming Pool, between a 7-11 and Sinopec petrol station

Five minutes walk from Fanling railway station

Start check – in front of Fanling Public School gates

1624, March 5, Shek Kong Catchment

Barking Mad

By Cock of the South, Mango Groove and Stingray

What really happened
What really happened

Last summer, when outgoing Shek Kong Hash GM Salesman set his sayonara run from Bekk’s in the grim yardie-lands of Kam Tin, only Stunt Double finished it. Salesman claimed near-impenetrable overgrowth had foiled his attempts to reopen an old trail, long gone to shiggy. Undaunted, Dingaling went out with Overdue and a petrol-driven chainsaw to put things to right, and after clearing dense woody thorn triffids, announced he had a great run. And so he did, starting this time much closer to the action at the Shek Kong catchment.

Velcro Lips was first on the scene, at 7 o’clock, but had the willies put up her, after which she promptly went home, having had her fun and frolics. But as 7.30 approached the hashers started arriving until more than a dozen thronged the pit, some only there for the promised curry.

Trail went out along the catchwater road towards Ho Pui. Two runs were set. Five runs were done. Dram and Fartypants did a short out-and-back walk to the point at which trail disappeared into the shiggy. Big Moany and Golden Balls did the fine wimps trail, while latecomer One Eyed Jack somehow managed a super-rambos. It was on the rambos, however, that controversy flared. Let the protagonists speak.

Mango Groove: The hare said something about walkers, wimps and rambos, to which Mango and Eunuch paid full attention to but Stingray didn’t and had written on his palm, “Note to self. I am gonna shortcut today and try and take Walkie Talkie with me and then pretend I did the full trail.” Anyway we took off straight along the catchment to the first check that went straight then a second and onto a check back that had us looking a bit with Eunuch finding trail up into the shiggy climb off the catchment. At this point poor Dylan had to be told he was going home by Fartypantz due to the presence of wild boar scent (I thought it was my aftershave). Anyway we continued to climb upwards, eventually coming onto a rambo/wimps split with wimps heading upwards and rambos clambering around towards the right. The rambo trail was pretty interesting with lots of fallen trees and jagged edges to negotiate, probably the result of last year’s typhoons. It was later revealed that One Eyed Jack fell off to the side of the trail, managing to pull himself up by holding onto a fallen log. FRB Eunuch managed to solve a couple of checks before we started heading steeply down some lovely soft trail with fixed ropes. Now it looked at this point that we were simply going to continue down the valley and eventually back onto the catchment but the hare had something better in store for us. The third check on the trail down actually took us right and onto a disguised path, that had to be negotiated carefully.

Stingray: On reaching the Rambo/wimps split half a millisecond passed as Walkie Talkie and I considered the options. Wimps being for lesser mortals, not pure quality athletes like us, we threw ourselves onto the rambo trail. Such was our speed and agility through the jungle, suddenly there was no trail. Backtracking just a short distance there was the trail – a mistake, unusually a mistake had been made going left instead of on the trail to the right. So on on we pushed under trees, over snakes, up ladders, barking at the deer, through swamps and around landmines. The trail was well laid, easy to follow, nothing could go wrong. But then lights ahead. Those crazy degenerates Mango and Eunuch coming straight at us, shouting and screaming like only Merseyside supporters can. “You goin the wong way,” Mango mumbled. “Bollocks,” said I. Walkie hurled expletives at them like she was throwing confetti.

Mango: As Eunuch and Mango were running in the correct direction two lights were coming towards them – Stingray and Walkie Talkie. After a group hug and exchange of kisses Eunuch asked Stingray what he was doing on the wimps trail to which he replied he was not and that he was on the rambo and everyone else was wrong.  Mango took great offence at this accusation and then pointed out that both he and Eunuch had been following markings and the arrows on the trees were pointing them in the correct direction.  Stingray was having none of this and replied, “Seriously, come with us, we’re on the rambos.” It must be mentioned that Walkie Talkie remained very quiet in this heated exchange of words, probably because she knew Stingray was wrong but didn’t want to upset him. Anyway the four jolly hashers crossed paths with the correct trail leading us back and onto the semi steps down and back onto the catchment. Arriving back at the bucket there was no sign of Stingray and Walkie Talkie; about 20 minutes later they trundled in with Stingray still insisting he was on the correct trail all along.

Stingray: Mango and Eunuch passed, holding hands and singing nursery rhymes. “Just let them go,” I said, ‘there’s nothing anyone can do to save them now.” We pushed on, a simple check, down to the catchment path, turn right, on on. But then, having discussed the merits of Russian involvement in the Crimea, whether a slave should get an Oscar and if the Babes Hash could be regarded as a functional constituency, it became apparent that there was now a lack of trail to follow. “Obviously the trail went across the catchment, past the pagoda and down towards Shek Kong,” WT explained, and all, again, was right with the world. After all, the hare had said that if there was no trail just follow the trees and Bob’s your uncle, you’ll be home in a jiffy. There was hundreds of trees. As for Mangonuch, clearly they had not interpreted the Dingaling shredded paper in a professional manner, like wot we ‘ad. WT reflected on the matter, ‘We don’t have this incontinence on the Babes hash either”.

Accusations and counter accusations gilded with surrealism – or is it nonsense? All that remains to be said is that Bi Moany ran the brief circle that everybody wanted to end so they could get stuck in to Overdue’s excellent curry, rice, papadoms and baked potatoes. With butter. And the deer barked in the distance.

Shek Kong CatchwaterWednesday, March 5, 2014


Shek Kong catchwater barbecue pits

Hare: Dingaling

Drive: From Route Twisk turn on to the catchwater road just above the PLA building with all the flags flying that used to be the Naafi. Drive in about 800m – there’s a few sets of barbecue pits so look out for the one that looks a bit hashy. Park at roadside.

Public transport: Bus 51 between Kam Sheung Road and Tsuen Wan West railway stations runs over Route Twisk. Bus 64K passes the bottom of Route Twisk – get off at the Shek Kong roundabout and it’s about a 1.3km walk from there.

The run: Dingaling presents his Shek Kong Hash AGM run from last year, the one where only Stunt Double managed to do the rambo trail – so it’s virgin trail!