Run 1713, 26 September 2015, Yau Tong The Saturday Run No. 7

The Devils Gough Pottinger Run

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So we set off from Lam Tsuen Valley in bright sunshine, Gaele Says No, Canton Klap, Popeye and myself, heading for Yau Tong station for what the hare promised was a “wicked” run. “The start will be marked in chalk from the station exit” said Gaele Says No. Arriving at the station we picked up new N2TH3 runner/virgin Stewart but no chalk markings as it was raining cats and dogs! As we dithered about wondering what to do Dram and T Bird turned up, and after some deliberation we set off up the hill in the pissing rain looking for the park and the start. Arriving at the park we found Stingray with the beer and Penile Dementia. Eventually GM Velcro Lips, Golden Balls and Liberace turned up, and then the hare arrived. Did he have the major neck extension that everyone was expecting, did he bollocks; with a huge smile on his face he gave the briefing, “Well chaps there has been a sodding big thunderstorm and its washed out all the trail, so I will have to go out and re-set it, give me a 15-minute start, there are two trails, the rambos will take in all the historic sites, blah blah blah… oh and wait for Catch Of The Day, she’s on her way, don’t start without her”. Whilst waiting, Popeye was pleading with Billy Jizz to run the Rambos to no avail, but Billy Jizz did the next best thing and pressganged a reluctant Liberace into a baby sitting role. He can’t possibly run the Rambos, said Libs, pointing to the 6-year-old-sized Popeye. He’ll be fine, said Billy Jizz. Twenty minutes later COTD arrived and off we set back down the road towards Yau Tong station, where a check was found at the bottom of a flight of stairs. “It’s up” said COTD, “I saw Mango going up when I was on my way.” So up we all went. At the top runners dispersed in all directions searching in vain for the elusive trail. None was found. Back down the stairs and GB found trail heading up the road towards the hills, so who was that sylph-like, dark-clad figur, lugging a bag of flour and chalk up the stairs? can Mango be in two places at once or does he have a doppleganger? (Spooky action – ED.)

Back on trail the front runners had departed, leaving Billy Jizz and Stingray to do their own run, with the wimps a bit further behind. Onwards and upwards we went, reaching the top of Goughs Peak and the now ruined Second World War gun emplacement, where the Brits attempted in vain to hold off the invading Japanese hordes. “These are pointless,” said Stingray. “No Japanese would be stupid enough to come up here.” “Well one is,” replied Billy Jizz. “She’s somewhere up ahead of us.” Having looked around the historical site number one we got back on trails heading up to Devils Peak and historical site number two, another gun emplacement. Billy Jizz got a torch out and we looked around inside one of the buildings; nothing to see but four walls of 70-year-old concrete.

Libs was clearly doing a grand baby sitting job as there was no sign of him or Popeye, so both were still well ahead. Trail then took us on an excellent bit of shiggy, incluging a section of 6 foot high elephant grass, at the end of which we arrived at Pottinger Peak and the third and final gun emplacement. Trail then took us down towards Lei Yue Mun where we picked up Velcro and Dram, and past the seafood restaurants laden with all manner of sea creatures – including some humongous crabs – and then back to the start.

Velcro opened the circle welcoming back Billy Jizz, and virgins Popeye (yes, Libs successfully completed his baby sitting job and got Popeye back and on the podium) and Stewart, at which point Mango Groove in his role of Religious Advisor took over the circle and started to quiz Stewart. “So what do you do Steweart?” “I’m a horse vet, I work for the Jockey Club.” “So have you ever held a big, erect throbbing horse’s member?” “Err, maybe” stuttered Stewart with a wry grin on his face. “I’ve got it,” said Mango, “on your knees Stewart.” So knowing Mango’s reputation and with the thoughts of throbbing horse bits in mind, we were all fearing for our new runner. Would we ever see him again? So with Stewart on his knees, Mango proclaimed in his best Scottish accent (Stewart being Scottish) that had everyone rolling about in laughter as he sounded more like a Pakistani: “Henceforth Stewart, you shall be known as ………………..Red Rump!”

A few more down downs were handed out, and then some of the pack went to a restaurant. Unfortunately none of them could speak Chinese, se we ended up ordering by impersonating the plants and animals we wanted to eat. – Billy Jizz

Run 1712, 23 September 2015, Ma On Shan

Spooky Action

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“I’m not driving, I’ll join you in the taxi,” said Dram, “because I want to have a few beers after the run.” So Dram, Serbian Bomber and Golden Balls met at Ma On Shan station and after blundering around for a while located a cab, getting to the start at 7.45 to find Luk Sup Gow and the hare Dingaling, who said the GM had set the pack off at 7.30. But we didn’t care because we’d been in the best taxi ever – the jukebox taxi, where you can request songs from a list and sing along with the driver. By the time we reached Ma On Shan park we’d wrapped our tonsils around Can’t Buy Me Love, Like A Virgin, Beat It, Suspicious Minds and Delilah.

Ever prepared for action, Serbian Bomber was off like a shot, bristling with gadgetry. Dram left a couple of minutes later after changing his shorts, while I was last away after a full kit change. Trail went up the steps opposite the park and along the ridge, where I passed Dram, then down increasingly steeply to the ravine and across a small dam. On the way down the lights of the back markers of the front pack could be seen ascending the hill to the south. Serbian could be heard calling up the hill, and as I ascended Dram came up behind me, or so I thought – but it was One Eyed Jack, who was even later than us. “Did you see Dram?” I asked. “No,” came the reply. Obviously quantum biology was at work here, or quantum mechanics acting at the particle level where said particle can appear to be in more than one place at the same time, something Einstein called “spooky action at a distance”. How else could One Eyed Jack have ghosted past Dram? Worse was to come when One Eyed Jack and I got to the finish before Serbian Bomber, despite not passing him on trail! Woo-ooo-oooo.

Meanwhile, at the front of the pack Catch Of The Day was showing a clean pair of heels to the pack and was well ahead, until Mango Groove abruptly caught her in a densely forested area. “Catch Of The Day, are you OK?” enquired the concerned Mango, thinking only an injury could have slowed her down so spectacularly. “Spiders!” came the panicked arachnophobic response. And so brave Mango went to the front and collected all the arachnids for the pack. Trail went up up up to the trig point and then left down to a hamlet with barking dogs as Gaele Says No hit the front and stayed there to the finish. Other harriers on trail were Eunuch, Liberace, Stingray and Velcro Lips.

At the bucket the craic was boisterous and the beer supply dwindled rapidly as we waited for Dram … and waited … and waited. An attempt by GM2 Serbian Bomber to get the circle started was thwarted by the GM, who said we had to wait for Dram, at which Mango got all self-righteous about the time nine years ago at Luk Keng when he was out for three hours and when he got back everybody had gone, leaving on the pavement only his bag and two tinnies – of soft drinks! Mango took this perceived injustice and worked himself up into quite a state, demanding that Dram be afforded the same treatment, and that we drink all the beer before he got back.

Finally somebody called Dram to find he’d taken the wrong path from the trig point and was floundering about in some lost valley. Catch Of The Day and Liberace took off in COTD’s car while Dram was instructed to head back up to the trig point and this time take the path with markings on it down to the road, and soon he was back at the finish and tucking in to the last of the booze as the circle started, down-downs administered from a bottle by Catch Of The Day direct to mouth as she celebrated yet another sacking. Good run and entertaining circle. – Golden Balls

Run 1711, 16 September 2015, Wu Kai Sha

The Not-So-Magnificent Seven

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As informed by Golden Balls earlier in the day, the advertised location for the run was changed slightly, to a sitting area along the sea front at Wu Kai Sha. However, when we all managed to get to the run, the GM and hare Velcro Lips informed us of a better and more suitable location just down from where the cars were parked. Visiting runner Noah also appeared at the car park looking very sweaty as he had run from the University, just to warm up. As usual we had to wait for Eunuch to put his make-up on and at 7.45pm a somewhat lost Golden Jelly was heard in conversation with Velcro about the start location. Not wanting to delay further, Velcro assembled the pack together and after telling us the trail was marked with flour, chalk and some toilet paper, off we went.

The first check led us straight through the village and out onto another check which took us in multiple directions. It was here that the hash group showed real concern for their fellow hashmen (NOT). As Golden Balls held check and waited for a call in the right direction so that he could mark it for Piss Flaps (his new best friend), everyone started checking in all directions. Well when I say everyone I actually mean Mango who ran in every conceivable direction and upon returning to Golden Balls at the check asked where everyone had gone to, at which Golden Balls ran over the bridge in hope of finding trail and the pack, leaving Mango to look again for trail. After many minutes of buggering around and realizing that everyone else had found trail and not a single sausage poo poo had bothered to call, Mango and GB decided to head downwards towards the subway. The rest of the pack had all found trail but decided to keep it a secret from Mango and GB, yes that’s right Eunuch, Liberace, Noah, One Eyed Jack, Catch Of The Day, Piss Flaps and Penile Dementia (aka The Magnificent Seven). Mango and Golden Balls eventually found trail near the subway underpass. After running over the bridge and spying an on-on into the station they could see The Magnificent Seven dispersed in all directions. As The Magnificent Seven ran around like complete twats on the MTR platform, Mango looked at GB and said “what a bunch of morons, the N2TH3 should be proud to have them.” Cries of check back! check back! were heard from The Magnificent Seven, especially Penile Dementia and COTD, and at one point Liberace appeared from the ticket office. When GB and Mango asked where did you see a check back because we’ve just passed the on-on pointing into the station, “What on-on?” came the reply from The Magnificent Seven. After realizing what a complete bunch of toss wipes they really were cos there was no check back and somehow The Magnificent Seven managed to convince each other that one really existed, trail was found around and out the MTR (yes by GB and Mango) before heading up the long steps adjacent to the hillside.

A check at the end of the concrete path fooled both Noah and Liberace who ran downwards towards the city. Eunuch clambered up an unmarked hillside whereas COTD backtracked slightly to find a nice path heading up the hillside. The trail after this point up was quite steep but well marked with flour and chalk. As we ascended, the now super-fit COTD pulled further away from Eunuch, who had managed to twist his ankle, and leaving Liberace, Mango and Penile Dementia behind. As he climbed even higher, Liberace mentioned that we hadn’t seen the rambo / wimp split yet, which had everyone worried, before a slight descent downwards. It was here that GB, who had fallen behind the pack, saw a torch far below in the woods which turned out to be Piss Flaps, who had somehow blundered off-piste. Being the lovely jubbly type of geezer that he is, GB stood and waited for our newest hasher because he was worried about him. The trail then continued steeply up a path with a fixed rope and eventually onto the rambo / wimp split. The rambo trail took us over a stream and up a little more to the trig point on the path above. A run down some steps and then right at a check had the rambos back on the outskirts of the village, where the two trails rejoined. At this point there was a short section down through some woods before the trail then took us out onto the road before turning left, under the subway and a short run back in along the sea shore. But it was at the woods that Piss Flaps got lost a second time, and when GB, who had got ahead of him, realised Piss Flaps was lost in the woods again he went back to look for him – an inexcusable and heinous gentlemanly act for which he was later punished.

The rambos were all back in just over an hour, with Liberace and COTD complaining that it was too short and Mango collapsing with exhaustion and regretting not taking the wimp trail cos he is well crap on up hills. GB and Piss Flaps were the final runners back and Golden Jelly had eventually managed to join the group, after spending nearly an hour finding the location, even though she use to work nearby (looks like she’s been learning GPS stuff from Liberace!)

After a few cans of beer were consumed the GM led the circle by awarding herself a down down for the run and then continuously wiggling two fingers in front her crutch whenever she called in Piss Flaps. Noah was named Bungle because the RA wanted him to have a nice cuddly name name to tell his son. After several others gave out down downs, COTD was invited into the circle by GB to sing the King Kong song, in Japanese, which was very entertaining. Once again another great run with the N2TH3, thanks Velcro. – Mango Groove

Run 1710, 9 September 2015, Leafy Glade

Jihadi Jim – A Long Run To Freedom

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Jihadi Jim Gibson, JJ, terrorist, freedom fighter, executioner and people smuggler was the organizer of choice for the masses of the N2TH3.

His unlikely alliance with veteran peoples’ champion Dram of UNHCR had drawn the hordes of hash refugees in a final chance to escape the calamities of war-torn TaiPo.

It was to be a mass break-out from the Leafy Glade Detention Centre. With so much at stake GM Velcro Lips had enlisted the intrepid Sergeant Mango to lead the party. Mango, ex- Boys Brigade, who had suffered from the sexist ‘Boys In Luton Keep Out’ policy and was known to all as Sergeant BILKO.

JJ made a last minute arrival, avoiding the attraction of immigration officials, then gave crucial instructions and revealed the secret directions of flalk and chour.

On Velcro’s call the migrant swarm headed north. They were to carefully elude the Chung Uk New Tsuen faction, the dreaded c*nts.

The glamorous Valki Talkistrova had been enlisted to attract the reassuring presence of the foreign media. But there was no threatening intervention from locals and a circuitous route to the treacherous Lam Kam Road was reached with only the sacrifice of the new nomad Golden Ball.

Crossing into the barren Ping Long wilderness and with little JJ trail in evidence Father Eunuch was called upon to seek direction from the higher authorities above, and he was not to disappoint, pointing to the burning bush shining a light up on the high-altitude ridge where only the moon made its home. Bilko pushed on, this was no comedy show.

The red lights and pulsating music of the wild frontier town of Lin Au have been a magnet to venturers and hobos over many years but on this night silence was called for. Liberace was both dumbfounded and baffled by this quiet, but the suspicious infiltrating presence of a known local police informant kept the usually exuberant Libs under a cloud of silent introspection.

The barbed wire frontier fences of the feared Water Works and Homeland Security Authority had proved a near impenetrable barrier for JJ and his trusty Dram. Only through a dramatic descent through jungle and around a series of man traps – with every step being a life-threatening game of luck and chance – was the search for a better life maintained.

There are two Immigration barriers to cross. The first at the Tolo Super Highway and the second at the Lam Tsuen River. They are both manned and both under control of the Bad Boy Immigration Triads. It was up to the silky smoothe tongue and persuasive words of one Stingray to clear the way. The migrants slipped by as the Bad Boys slept.

It was ON ON ON now, as the trail was followed and then passed, all was well, all was easy until all was back at Leafy Glade!. Just what had gone wrong ?

The sweeper returned and vast quantities of cash changed hands. Any question of dissent was rapidly quelled by the administration of alcohol and noodles. Awards for gallantry and bravery were given out. These were later reclassified as awards for stupidity. Which just left two questions on the lips of the refugees.

One: Why do we keep paying for this rubbish ? And
Two: Where’s next weeks run ?

CHORUS:

We gotta get out of this place

If it’s the last thing we ever do

We gotta get out of this place

Girl there’s a better life for me and you

– Stingray

Run 1709, 2 September 2015, Cafeteria Beach

Really…Piss Flaps???

The hare this week was none other than our very own Gilded Bollocks who brought us to the slums of Tseun Mun (aka his neighbourhood). The run started and finished on a beautiful stretch of beach with the fresh smell of rotting fish and public toilets in the air. The wise old hare, knowing that the day after the run was a public holiday decided to pull out all the stops and request that everyone buy 4 dozen beers, ice and crisps thinking everyone would be on the piss. Eleven out of the 196 beers were consumed.

Nonetheless, the pack set off on time and was quickly onto the first check which was sorted without losing a stride. Heading towards the Sam Shing daipaidongs we were confronted with the toughest check of the evening. It appeared that GB was experimenting with a new style of marking which involved just not marking anything, not even a check! After scrambling through the restaurant area we finally found a mark which sent Catch of the Day running down a pier. About half way down was a check back (in case it wasn’t already obvious), but COTD decided to run the end (where it meets the sea) before coming back to inform all of us that “it’s not that way”. Thanks. After endless searching Eunuch managed to sniff out some markings leading Penile Dementia and myself out of the housing estate. Leaving the rest of the pack for dead.

The trail heading in the direction of the Wah Fat park and onto a check sent runners to the top of the hill before hitting a check back. Most runners solved this immediately as the true trail marking was clearly visible when returning down the road, however Liberace decided to not look left and ended up doing an extra 3km trying to solve the check. A quick grind up to the Maclehose and the front pack was cruising. A tricky check sent some runners up a shiggy trail in search of marks. Luckily for the front runners, Penile Dementia was close by with his solar flare headlamp and we were able to see 4km down the road and on on to the next arrow. A set of stairs took us back down to the rambo-wimp split, with rambos looping around Harrow and the last check, where Eunuch opted for the route up into the hills. I went the other way along village tracks and on to the Gold Coast, with a quick sprint up the beach taking us back to the start, were D-Ram had nearly finished all of the eight bags of crisps.

All in all a great run with only two people getting lost. A first-time runner from Japan who is completely unfamiliar with Hong Kong, and Raymondo, some dude who has lived about 200m from the run start for the past 32 years…but still managed to get lost.

While the pack was out on trail, the GM arrived fashionably late and ready with a list of down-downs she had spent two hours typing into her iPhone so she could look tech savvy. As the next day was announced as public holiday, COTD and her comfort man were very quick to let us know the true meaning of the holiday…Japanese victory day. Liberace spoiled us with not one, but two of his lengthy, unfathomable down downs. One ended up with him saying “F@%^ing Guy!” 28 times and blaming Eunuch for something. The other ended up with him calling the GM Jelrous???

On to one of the highlights of the evening. Mango thought it would be a good idea to name the new guy because he’s not from around here and we need to make sure he never comes back. He began the naming by asking the poor bloke his name (which I forget) but COTD was quick to inform us that when translated to English his name means Water Valley, to which Mango immediately belted out “Piss Flaps” (I’m sure he’ll be back). The only thing more disturbing than his name was COTD and Velco circling around him dangling their fingers in front of their crotches screeching “Piss Flaps, Piss Flaps…” (I’m sure he’ll be back). – Gaele Says No

Hare: Golden Balls

Harriers: Gaele Says No, Eunuch, Raymond, Piss Flaps, Penile Dementia, Stingray, Catch Of The Day, Mango Groove, Liberace, Dram

Non-runners: T-Bird, Velcro Lips