Run 1674, 21 January 2015, Ha Hang

Ha Ha Ha Hang

crater-resident copy
Stingray welcomes us to his new gaff

After abandoning his palatial residence at Sai Sha Villas, Stingray welcomed us to his new abode, tentatively named Filthy Lucre Towers, at Ha Hang. “Business is going really well at the moment,” he beamed as he set out the buckets, “and I’ve got a loverly run for you. Nah dahn’t worry if you keep finking deja vu, because that’s exactly what it’ll be.” Meanwhile an eclectic bunch had arrived. Lyman, a Guangzhou hasher who happened to be vacationing at the Tai Mei Tuk youth hostel. James of Ha Hang, fresh from a 50km spin on his bike. Nina, who we’d met on the pub run. Plus the usual suspects: Mango Groove, Golden Balls, Eunuch, Velcro Lips, Penile Dementia, Liberace, One Eyed Jack and so on.

Trail went left along Ting Kok Road then up through the village and into some old paddy long turned wild. James, who had hashed in the distant past, seemed a bit unsure of himself when confronted with the chest-high tangle of grasses and bushes and lassoos that trip you up all the time when you’ve got big feet (four crashes for GB) but soon got the hang of following toilet paper. Liberace as usual ran round like a headless chicken, constantly appearing from behind the backmarkers like some Wile E Coyote inexorably motoring towards his next catastrophe. Meanwhile at the front Eunuch, Mango Groove and Lyman led the pack out to Ting Kok Road then up again into forest. Trail led up to Sha Lo Tung Road, where the check fooled only GB, who started heading downhill. The rest went up and, predictably, down the steps to Fung Yuen, passing Tangerine Dream along the way, who tried to trick them into running the wrong way. After a circuit of the “butterfly farm” it was out again to Ting Kok Road and a lovely circuit of the industrial estate via the waterfront.

On Stingray’s patio M&M served up a fine curry with rice and garlic peanuts as the usual boisterous dissection of the run coloured the air. Then James arrived and flung himself to the floor. We thought he was going for 50 push-ups, having complained earlier that he hadn’t managed the 100km on the bike he’d planned on doing, but no – he was knackered after losing trail and following some fence for miles.

Nina was a honey and engaged Mango in discussing the minutae of honey production by bees. She must have wished she’d kept her mouth shut as the increasingly unhinged RA promptly named her Sticky Apid Bottom Exudate. Lyman and James looked nervous.

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