The Farmers’ Curse

As I was heading towards Tsiu Keng at the foot of the Kai Kung Leng massif I got a text from the GM: “Sorry, I’m busy tonight. Will have to leave mah boys to their own devices,” to which I replied, “So you don’t fancy trudging up and down the Cock Range then?” (Kai kung = male chicken.) The response was swift: “Cock? Nobody said anything about cocks or I’d have been there!” For heaven’s sake come back G-Spot, we can’t hold out much longer!

It was a small pack again: Stingray, Crash, Golden Balls, Liberace, Eunuch, Catch Of The Day, One Eyed Jack and Dingaling with Sam in tow. The precious and highly strung racehorse Mango Groove was a non-running latecomer, claiming to be resting before his 50km Green Power race on Saturday. All I can say is Eunuch and One Eyed Jack were entered in the same event.

Panic ensued before the start when it was realised that nobody had brought the drinks. A mayday call went out to Golden Jelly, who was nearby working on her farm. Yes, she had the leftover beer from last week. Yes, she had it in her car. Yes, she could bring them to the run. Saved by the Jell!

So off we set, heading west through the village, through a grove of palm trees and onto the paths around the fields. The first check took a few minutes to solve, and also claimed casualty no. 1 – Crash, who pulled a muscle in his calf. But it was as nought compared to the second check, where the numerous options available were all explored and explored again to no avail. Villagers and farmers were out with folded arms telling us there was no way that way, that way or any way but the way we’d just come. After 20 minutes a group of us headed back to the start to consult the hare.

Gaele Says No led us back to the check and was nonplussed to find no trail going through the banana grove where it should have been. Then the eagle-eyed Golden Balls spotted a fleck of flour – not a blob, just a tiny spot. A few more of these tiny spots revealed themselves as we were led through the shiggy. We surmised that the farmer had come out with his watering can and obliterated this section of trail. Probably one of the worthies who were standing around with folded arms.

This check claimed One Eyed Jack, Dingaling and Sam, who hadn’t attached themselves to the return-to-start group but milled round aimlessly a bit longer before giving up. Meanwhile a fine trail presented itself, crossing Fan Kam Road and winding through the seldom hashed villages and hills on the eastern side of Fan Kam Road. All the checks were hard and the remaining five on course came together several times. Finally, at a check by a house below a forested hillside, Stingray and Golden Balls ran through the galley kitchen and out onto a village concrete path. Deciding to abandon trail, they followed this path out a kilometre to Fan Kam Road, where they rediscovered markings. Back at the check, after farting around for another few minutes Liberace, Eunuch and Catch Of The Day also took the kitchen galley route home. All agreed it was a fine trail.

Meanwhile Golden Jelly had trucked in the beer and the hare had miraculously procured ice. So we were all set to give Gaele Says No a good figurative face slap with copious down downs for injuries, crap markings, nonexistent trail and lost hashers when he revealed he couldn’t have any beer as he was being “probed” the next day.

Very convenient!

Crash Course

By One Eyed Jack

The pack gathered: Penile Dementia, James, Liberace, Oneyejack, Velcro Lips, Golden Jelly, Mango, Catch Of The Day and her mum with a very late comer of Eunuch.

There was a short briefing, and as Stingray was off playing golf there were no interruptions! As usual both Mango and Liberace did not pay attention.

The trail went off up towards the reservoir, a couple of checks later it was on up to the catchwater to a checkback. Mango and Liberace had not a clue as to where to find trail. OEJ being such a knowledgeable hasher found the solution. A gravelly trail led up the hill from the right side. The only sound was a barking deer, the hashers had no wind. It meandered up and up with false summits, right at the next check and back down off the hill, eventually joining a road to another reservoir and right.  The trail then went back along the road all the way to the start. James was back last having got lost (again) close to the finish.

As the hounds were baying the GM moved the pack to the toilet block for the circle and some quiet. The RA officially refreshed the hash name of James – Crash – who hadn’t hashed for eight years until last week.

Usual culprits got their punishments:  Mango for not marking checks, as usual; Eunuch for taking 3.5 hours to get from work to the start; Penile Dementia for not remembering anything; Catch Of The Day for private circles with her mum; etc etc

Z Cars

Dram was the hare for this Saturday afternoon excursion at one of Hong Kong’s most beautiful trail running locations, but the run was almost killed off before it started when the police blockaded the road up to the country park and wouldn’t let any vehicles through. Happily the first hashers on the scene – the hare and Stingray – managed to blag their way past by claiming to be the advanced guard of an “athletics club” who were having an “event” in the country park. This seemed to satisfy them, but what they made of Dram asleep among the eskies when they patrolled past after the start is anybody’s guess. “Do you do much running?” one of them hazarded, suspiciously eyeing the crates of Tsingtao, Carlsberg, Skol and Kingway strewn around the pagoda.

Big Moany, Yummy Mummy, Oranguwank and Lyman were other early birds, soon joined by Golden Jelly, Nick, Sticky Apid Bottom Exudate, One Eyed Jack and Golden Balls. Stunt Double, Velcro Lips and Gaele Says No duly arrived and then, just before the off was declared, a half-inebriated trio of Moonie, Tintin and Salesman, who’d commendably prised themselves out of a lunchtime session in favour of the bracing mountain air. Liberace and Penile Dementia were to be the latecomers.

“Don’t expect anything special, it’s a boring, predictable trail,” gloomed the Scotch hare, and we were off – through the park, out along the trail behind the toilets and down the unused road towards the new Trailwalker finish. Check, and down the steps to the track for a kilometre, then to the rambo-wimp split. Rambos went up the steps to the mysterious undriveable road loop, along the road then up the track to the ridge leading to the Tai Lam Tunnel car park, but taking the opposite direction towards the reservoir. A beautiful bit of ridge running was followed by a descent down badlands (the same route set by GB in December) and thus to the track we’d started on. Out to the road and up to Tai Tong with a final little hill trail loop back to Tai Tong Road and the finish. Wimps meanwhile went straight on from the split and the two trails joined where the rambos came down from the badlands.

Or at least we thought it did. GB was the first wimp to the split and checked up the hill to the right, whereupon finding nothing he just continued, eventually hitting markings where the trail came up to the final hill trail loop. Moonie and Tintin did the same, then Big Moany and Velcro Lips, leaving just Golden Jelly and Yummy Mummy to tackle the “real” wimp trail. Meanwhile Oranguwank and Lyman, a visitor from Guangzhou, trotted home first on the long course in just under an hour with Gaele Says No in tow a couple of minutes behind. ‘Twas a fine trail in marvellous weather.

As the business started we had observers – yes, five of the coppers who had allowed the “athletics club” through came to witness the bizarre, arcane proceedings, ritual humiliations and grog-swilling antics. They watched curiously as the drivers poured thimbleful after thimbleful of piss down their throats, departing only when the circle broke up and the cars drove away, one of them muttering darkly into a walk talky. We feared the worst, expecting to be pulled over at the roadblock down the hill. But Asia’s Finest deemed us no threat to society and cheerily waved us on, one even asking for the website address. A vote of thanks to the police. Without them the place would have been overrun and we’d never have been able to park!