Hell Hound On My Trail

The hare for run 1806 was Salesman. This short pithy sentence probably encapsulates all you need to know about how the run was to unfold (or should I say unravel) but Golden Balls has demanded a proper run report from me (Bukkake), so here goes.

Accompanied by the aforementioned Golden Balls, I drove to our seedy venue (a shadowy underpass beneath Tolo Highway near Shan Tong Village) and whilst seeking a place to park was confronted by a shuffling, Quasimodo-like character crossing the road in front of me. This turned out, on closer inspection, to be Gunpowder Plod. Two other dingy figures were perceptible in the gloom and, as Golden Balls and I stepped over to investigate, the inane banter emanating from the couple instantly identified them as Eunuch and Mango Groove. Our small group was soon swollen by the arrival of Liberace and then Catch Of The Day, who, for reasons which remained obscure, had also brought along her poor long-suffering mother.

Given that the hare was Salesman, his absence from the rendezvous and the lack of any helpful identifying markings (such as, perhaps, a luminous “N2TH3” scrawled on the ground as a beacon in the inky darkness), went entirely unremarked. Eventually however, Golden Balls urged us all to gather round so that he could divulge the hare’s “instructions”, to which he had been made privy. These instructions were brief and disarmingly conventional until Golden Balls reached the postscript: “You may encounter a HUGE HOUND that will attempt to misdirect you down sundry false trails.”

Still digesting that last piece of intelligence, the group (minus COTD’s mother) dispersed in all directions in search of trail, which was eventually detected on some steps going uphill on a bend in the road leading to Shan Tong. It was at this point that G-Spot, brilliantly timing his arrival to avoid having to spend tedious minutes searching for trail, came bounding up the hill looking disgustingly fit and healthy. The steps led up and quickly gave way to long, steep, arduous and slippery shiggy.

The pack (less Plod, who had prudently turned back, and Golden Balls who was late finding the trail) was still fairly close together during the early stages of this ascent, and so we all heard the blood-curdling shriek emitted by COTD when she was suddenly accosted by the HUGE HOUND as it sprang at her from the bushes. Mango could then be heard piteously attempting to befriend the beast and begging for mercy – a craven tactic but one which appeared to work.

I am constantly reminded that N2TH3 is a shiggy-loving hash, a mantra that I dutifully repeated over and over during the ensuing epoch (or 15 minutes) of unrelenting shigginess. Then – oh joy – we emerged onto a trail less vertical and less bushy and were able to tentatively trot along for a bit. The front runners, Liberace and Eunuch, had by this point opened up a large lead and, inevitably, ended up catching the wide-eyed hare. He pleaded for a five-minute stay of execution while he scarpered downhill. The regrouped pack then set off after him, descending along a concreted footpath which eventually brought us to the top of Shan Tong Road and an easy jog back down to the start. Salesman had valiantly put in a little loop off the main road toward the end but only a couple of eagle-eyed hashers (G-Spot, Eunuch(?), COTD) spotted it.

So, job done? Not quite. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, Golden Balls was enduring a tale of woe, which began when, already a long way behind the pack, he stumbled at the start of the shiggy and dropped his torch, which promptly gave up the ghost and defeated his frantic efforts to find it. Instead of doing the sensible thing and turning back to hit the hash beer early, he resolved to carry on, using his keenly developed hash senses to sniff out the trail in the dark. Having miraculously got through the shiggy, he was given a second nasty shock when he was accosted by the HUGE HOUND, which had been lurking on the ridge waiting for him. This ordeal so discombobulated him that he subsequently took the wrong trail down, ending up some miles away on Tai Po Road. By the time he staggered back to the starting point the circle was being wound up, but there was still sufficient beer for him to gratefully accept one or two down-downs. – Bukkake

Hare: Salesman

Runners: Bukkake, Golden Balls, Gunpowder Plod, Mango Groove, Eunuch, Catch Of The Day, Liberace, G-Spot

Non-runner: COTD’s mum

Hell Hound On My Trail – Robert Johnson

Golden Plod: Are You a Sai Kunger?

Well it was Saturday 20 May, time for our long awaited first joint Saturday run with Sai Kung Saturday Hash House Harriers.  The pre-advertised meeting point had been moved, because of slightly deteriorating weather, to the small shelter near Ma On Shan Village. Not a bad location, plenty of room for parking, nice location for a circle and most importantly it allowed Monnie adequate privacy for his pre-run dump.  It was almost 3pm when this weeks scribe arrived with Liberace, but where were the SKSH3 lot. “Plod, where are your mates?” called the pack as we waited around mainly discussing photos of Moonie’s backside which have now gone viral.  “Oh look, here comes a Sai Kunger!” called Dingaling as a slim bloke walked towards us.  “Hello,  my name is Pacemaker,” said the fit looking hasher as he introduced himself. “Oh you must be a Sai Kunger?” queried Stunt Double, to which came the reply “No, just doing a visa run. Thought I should check out a few hashes.” Next from behind the mass of parked cars came another even younger geezer. “Hello I am Jim,” said the young man as he jovially introduced himself.  “Oh you must be a Sai Kunger?” queried Hoover, to which came the reply “no this is my first ever hash, never hashed before, but I like running.” So there we were a mass of hardcore N2TH3 hashers, two visitors, no Sai Kunger’s and Plod sat on his foldable chair, bottom lip beginning to protrude. But wait a minute, an automobile pulls up, out jumps a dog called Benji and a stalwart hash lady, Pissed in Pink, who is a well-known one hundred percent certified Sai Kunger.  Very quickly Plod’s eyes regained their sparkle, his bottom lip quickly retracted and up he jumped. “Time for instructions!” he shouted.

Give Plod his due credit, he went out the day before on a seven-hour recce (with Jam the Vag) and then took four hours setting trail.  In true Plod style, he used a combination of creative and sensible markings, in the event of a downpour, just so we won’t get lost. “Police tape, red string and closed arrowheads mean you are on correct trail. I have used shredded paper, there is a rambo / wimps split but rambos may take two hours,” instructed Plod. Loud shouts of “WTF, two hours are you nuts!” followed Plod’s instructions. Even Dram was taking no chances after his escapade on Wednesday night making sure he was armed with a Serbian Bomber style survival rucksack and for extra safety he made sure that his long-time friend, Geriatric, was going to stay with him.

So off we went, straight up the road, as if we were heading towards the old iron ore mines. Gaele Says No, Canton Clap, Catch of the Day, Liberace, Pissed in Pink and Moonie moved pretty sharpish as we approached the climb up Ma On Shan Country Trail. Two thirds of the way up, a check-back caused Pacemaker and Jim to run off trail for a while as the trail cleverly took us up into some shiggy to a four- way check that was eventually solved by Stunt Double and Dingaling, leading us rightwards. A slight downhill run followed before we headed back up Pyramid Hill, but not all the way to the top as the trail led nicely along the ridge. On a clear day we could have seen over Sai Kung, but the clouds were low, visibility down to less than 50 metres and we were getting wet, excellent conditions for hashing. An undulating but easy running trial eventually led to the Ngong Ping campsite, where Moonie, Gaele Says No and Pacemaker decided to investigate some strange movements coming from inside a red tent. Turns out it was two blokes playing hide the sausage…not good.

As the pack kept close together, we headed away from the campsite following a shiggy trail to Ngong Ping Chi Tong and the rambo / wimps split.  Pissed in Pink wanted to do the wimps, but didn’t want to be by herself so she stuck with the rambos. This proved to be a good call for Pissed in Pink as her dog, Benji was having a great time rolling around in the mud. Sensibly, Golden Jelly and Hoover took the wimps trail leading down some shiggy and back onto the on out trail for about a four kilometre run. The rest of the pack continued gamely on, mainly following red string and shredded paper, into some very swampy terrain. It was here that confusion reigned as most of the pack began following clear plastic tape. Only when Golden Balls arrived and together with Dingaling regained control, eventually finding trail veering rightwards before a long descent down. By now Mooinie and Gaele Says No had long gone and had solved every check first time, leaving the rest of the pack to look after each other. Some nice tricky downhill shiggy followed, much to the liking and amusement of Mango. A very well marked trail took us along the old boulder track towards Tai Shui Hang. By now Dingaling, Liberace and a few others were together as we found trail through the ruins at Chi Tong where an open check didn’t take long to solve as we guessed correctly that the trail was heading up through the bamboo laden hill near Shek Kung Tsai. A couple of checks later and we found ourselves running down from the saddle, past the large water tank, through Ma On Shan Village and on home. Having handled the run superbly, Pacemaker had a slip near the end, grazing his right arm and similarly Catch of the Day twisted her ankle on the return into Ma On Shan Village… some serious hoo doo going on there. Even Mango appeared moonstruck after the run, as he could not differentiate between Golden Balls and Gunpowder Plod, referring to them both as Golden Plod. First back were Moonie and Gaele Says No, who took just over an hour. The rest of the pack came in over the next 20 minutes, with the exception of Dram and Geriatric.

As we stood around drinking, a couple out hiking approached the group wanting to know where the old iron ore mines were. Dingaling quickly offered to help and with the assistance of Overdue decided to play tour guide… he really loves mines does our Dingaling. Plod wanted to get things going quickly so a circle was called. As the circle was in process, who should we see sprinting, round the corner of Ma on Shan Village? Yes, Dram. He decided that he didn’t want to be last back so raced Geriatric in.  Poor Geriatric, he looked like his eyes were popping out of his head when he got back. Turns out that the hare, Plod, had given Dram some instructions where to go and where to shortcut, but Dram misunderstood the instructions and instead of Pyramid Hill, headed for Needle Hill, miles and miles away, taking Geriatric with him. After giving Dram and Geriatric their respective punishments for attempting to shortcut, the circle continued until closure and home time. Must say, this was nothing short of an excellent run, great trail and very good markings. Definitely a gold star for Mr Plod or should it be Golden Plod? – Mango Groove

Hare & SP: Gunpowder Plod & Jam The Vag

Runners: Golden Jelly, Hoover, Dram, Geriatric, Moonie, Gaele Says No, Pacemaker, Jim, Liberace, Dingaling, Stunt Double, Canton Clap, Catch Of The Day, Pissed In Pink, Golden Balls

 

Help Ma Bob!

A new starting place – the waterfront park at Tai Shui Hang – and a new runner, Paul, who like Golden Balls used to be blindingly fast and is now just an old crock. A hare who had marked the trail the previous day and was scornfully contemptuous of the “no markings” bleatings from the pack. A trail that started off like a train wreck and turned into a shinkansen. Yes, it was another night on the Northern New Territories Hash.

Hare Velcro Lips delivered a briefing and indicated we should head north in the general direction of Mui Tsz Lam. This suited Paul, a Tai Shui Hang resident, who as we trooped off declared there were basically only two ways to go. How little he knows! How much he has to learn of the craft of hashing!

The first check was quickly reached near a crossroads and the pack duly split up to investigate the several options, and found… nothing. We milled and probed for a good 10 minutes until Gaele Says No, heading back towards the start from the check, found trail over a railing leading down a rough track to a stream. Paul was suitably impressed. “I’ve lived all these years and never knew this path was here.” Just wait until later, pal.

Another mystifying check was eventually solved by GB cutting through grass towards the Tai Shui Hang high-rises. At this point latecomers Mango Groove and Eunuch joined us, having been fed intelligence by the hare.

Into the high-rises and the village area. Sporadic, seemingly random arrows would appear. “Trail!” and off we funnelled. At this point, Paul peeled off, distinctly unimpressed with his first hashing experience. Or perhaps it was because he lives nearby and dinner was on table and he’d told his wife he wouldn’t be more than an hour… “As soon as I left you I saw several arrows that I followed on my way home but then they disappeared again…better luck next time?”

Another hard check, eventually solved by Catch Of The Day, leading to a bridge with yet another unsolvable check, or at least it was to me as I checked north towards the sea for a long way. When I got back to the check everybody had disappeared and there were so many options – and I couldn’t find trail anywhere.

After about 10 minutes I gave up and was heading back towards the start when I came across arrows heading home. Yes! I followed these backwards up a dark barricaded road heading uphill to a service reservoir, eventually reaching the rambo/wimp split. Now I was the FRB, but the real front-runners were already coming down from the direction of the service reservoir. They had found trail out of the village and uphill through low scrub, then down to the service reservoir. Inexplicably Plod was in the lead. How?

I took the rambo option and found myself on a well marked contoury-undulatory track looking down on Ma On Shan Town. After a while there was a check at a junction, with the option of going steeply uphill or steeply downhill. Being first to get there I was obliged to check in one of these directions. I chose the steeply downhill, consigning the fast-closing Gaele Says No to the uphill option. Then I found trail. Yes! I waited another 10 seconds before calling just to make GSN climb a bit more. “Trail!!!”

Wasn’t long before GSN and then Eunuch came past me like a freight train, and the three of us emerged more or less together on a quiet back road where there was a check. As I gamely waited at the check to mark it for the others, GSN and Eunuch went charging off left, the intuitive direction to the finish. Then came charging back. “T!” At this point Plod emerged and headed left, ignoring our warnings, and ran straight through the T, which was positioned under a street light. “I didn’t see it,” he protested later. A classic case of selective vision.

We checked right – nothing. Up the embankment on to the highway – nothing. Left again – T. By this time, Catch Of The Day, Dingaling and Mango Groove had joined the throng checking every likely and unlikely which-way, until we heard a distant strangulated call from Eunuch, 700 metres to the right. “Trail!!!” From there it was over the pedestrian flyover into Ma On Shan, through a park, under a subway and – after a final spiteful bit of disappearing trail – a one-kilometre jog home along the waterfront.

Back at the toilet block we call home we got stuck in to bottles of “craft” beer (still drinking the leftovers from the 1800th run!). Velcro was concerned about Dram, who nobody had seen at all after the village. Eventually he hobbled in from the south, looking much the worse for wear, and declaiming “I’ve got to stop doing this!” We waited for the pronouncement that from where he stands he shall hash no more forever. “I’ve got to stop using my initiative!” At the top of the first hill, where trail went left down to the reservoir, he had spied a likely-looking short cut to the right that looked like it would head straight back to the finish. “It got steeper and steeper and then I was in this river bed clambering boulders for ages. Then I came up out of the ravine to a gate and fence 3 metres high. Well, the only way round was to clamber over these rocks above a cliff and… ooh! Help ma bob!”

Next to the bucket there was one of those hateful pebbly walkways, which we proceeded to try out. Bukkake and me strolled it, whistling tunelessly, face screwed into a rictus of agony, but Liberace and Dram’s antics were hilarious as they minced strangely around the circuit. Plod tried to go on in his shoes, to universal condemnation. “It’s like walking on tatami in shoes, totally disrespectful!” Then the Japanese Catch Of The Day walked on it in her shoes. Later she was most put out when Mango mistook some fat bird stretching on the exercise frames for her, especially as she’s paid $35,000 for a personal trainer and hasn’t lost an ounce. Eunuch led an irreverent circle about which the only thing I can remember is laughing till my sides hurt, and then we went home. A great night’s hashing. – Golden Balls

Hare & SP: Velcro Lips and Kay

Runners: Liberace, Eunuch, Mango Groove, Dram, Geriatric, Penile Dementia, Catch Of The Day, Bukkake, Gaele Says No, Golden Balls, Gunpowder Plod, One Eyed Jack, Dingaling, Paul

All in the Wrist Action

The Start: A goodly pack of victims turned up for Dram’s latest offering. First to arrive were Plod and Geriatric bringing with them the leftover beer from the 1800 and 1801 runs; all 300 pints of it. Liberace had urged Plod to buy more, so he had, buying Skol for Eunuch (nobody else drinks this crap), Tsing Tao for the masses, alkoholfrei German piss for Dram and some San Mig Light for himself. Then Liberace showed up with yet more Skol and other crap lager as well as the ice, which had Mango Groove moaning that Little Sai Wan would think we were all alcoholics. Why; we should just drink it all before we have the impending joint run with them. Plod and Liberace then loaded all the nice bottled beer into the ice bucket leaving the cans aside and everyone left their bags in Plod’s locked car; more of this later.

The venue was a first; a gloomy construction site surrounding a forlorn shelter where the pack assembled to find Gaelic script scrawled in chalk on a bench giving explicit instructions on the run. “Out re-setting. Wild dogs on trail; speak softly and carry a big stick!” Once this was deciphered, there being no sign of the GM, RA Luk Dim Boon took charge and we were off at 1935hrs.

The Trail: As there was an arrow in the shelter pointing left into the construction site, Moonie and Eunuch got tangled up in a homo heap while trying to climb through the hoarding first. The rest of the pack, averting their eyes, took the more obvious route out. Up the hill into the country park …. but NO!!! Trail went up the road towards Sha Tin and the park up on the left-hand side.

First Check at Tai Po Kau Park. Absolute bedlam as everybody checked, rechecked and triple-checked every bit of trampled grass for sign of trail. After what seemed like an hour, but was in reality 10 minutes of searching, Plod got on his phone where the hare gave us the good news and got us on our way. (It turns out that the local villager probably rubbed out the check and removed the paper markings)

So, down through the park we went to the public toilets at the bottom, and onto another check. Trail went right and around the Lake Egret Nature Park, but some of us (starts whistling a nondescript tune….) went left, knowing full well that the trail went round the lake and back to within 100 metres of the check.

Onto another check and on right towards the highway. Right at the end, under the highway. And right along the cycle path. Into a small dead-end park to try and slow us down, then along and back under the highway through the subway.

Along past the MTR Tai Po Kau Clubhouse and up the road back to Tai Po Road. Right onto a Check, left over the crossing and up the back of Chataeu Royal Residential area. This is where we were met by the Hounds of Hell. The pack were quick to pick up sticks n stones and after fighting them off we were up and onto a concrete path that wound up the hill towards Tai Po Kau Country Park.

We wound through and came out onto Yat Yiu Avenue. Left to the end, right along Tai Po Road and back to the buckets. Good run if a tadge damp!!!

Plod, meanwhile, was soon at the back and reached the bottom of the hill with not a soul in sight or hearing, and no checks marked. He ignored a couple of telephone calls, correctly believing that they were from the FRBs at the finish trying to get their bags out of his car and find the bottle opener (which he was wearing around his neck – sweet revenge).

The Circle: First priority was getting the beer open in light of Plod’s malicious deed. The construction site fence, garbage bins and chopsticks were employed creatively in this function, while Bukkake set up shop trying to flog his newly self-published books: a guide to basic multiplication for tiny tots entitled Sevens and a memoir, Confessions of a Hong Kong Naturist, complete with risque photos of himself cavorting in the wild.

Down downs included: Liberace for trying to climb into the building site, because that was literally where the marking was pointing!; Mango did Plod for the enormous amount of beer that was on show. He compared it to the Kowloon Hash on Monday where there were twice as many runners and half as much beer. But hey …. gay Kowloon Hash!!; Bukkake for a book signing function going on in the corner of the pagoda; Luk Dim Boon for trying to protect Catch Of The Day’s honour and saying Moonie’s arse should stay under wraps; Golden Balls – short-cutting BASTARD!!! (whats new?); Saleman – latecomer; Moonie for causing confusion at the first Check!! (But Plod went down there first!!! …. “Honest M’Lud”); can’t remember any more! ON ON! – Moonie, Gunpowder Plod

Present: Dram, Mango Groove, Eunuch, QT, Catch Of The Day, Golden Balls, Bukkake, Gunpowder Plod, One Eyed Jack, Luk Dim Boon, Moonie

 

 

 

 

 

 

Muddy Waters

The Date: Wednesday, 3 May 2017 – Buddha’s 2,590th birthday and the second daytime run in 10 days

The Hares: Geriatric and Miami Vice – not quite as old as Buddha but close

The Start: Nai Chung = “Muddy Waters”, Sap Sei Heung near Wu Kai Sha

The Markings and Briefing by Geriatric: clear evidence of dissent on trail between the hares; confused markings and lack of clarity, no toilet paper! Only marginally better than Diane Abbott’s recent car crash radio interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOZY33H8KIk

The Run: The pack was off smartly at 3pm (thank you GM 🙂 and shot off down a path to the beach led by Gunpowder Plod and Dougal to the first check. Plod, suspecting a double-double bluff, headed left and the rest of the befuddled pack headed right; and they were right.

As Plod returned in the rear he heard the distant plaintive Gaelic wailings of another geriatric latecomer trying to catch up….

Plod eventually arrived at another check by the beach in time to see the pack milling about leaderless with Liberace leading a misguided charge of hopefuls into the bushes.

Apparently only Golden Balls and the GM braved the infamous muddy water crossing with poor wee Stunt Double (attempting to follow) seen rolling up his shorts before wading in over his head. His delectable wife Hoover left him too it, hands waving in the air, bubbling away, leaving him to be rescued by Penile Dementia and Oranguwank.

Meanwhile, Plod, with his local knowledge (three previous trails), sensibly led Bunter off through the village and around via road to Che Ha village, neatly intercepting the front-runners milling about at another check.

Plod once again took up the challenge [short cut] and ran through the village, encountering 9IC, DinDins and Ophelia exiting their pad (thinking the run was on Sunday).

However, only the faithful (but gadgetless) Bunter followed. On on was found beside the river but, not being bamboozled by the Hares’ feeble effort to lead the pack in the wrong direction, Plod again led Bunter across the bridge to find trail on the path heading towards the golf centre, the feeble-minded pack (FMP) eventually catching up at the base of the hill to the pier opposite Sam Pui Chau.

Here the FMP, bleating excitedly, charged over the hill and down the other side leaving Plod to lead Golden Balls (catching up for the fourth time) into the shiggy onto the real trail up the hill to the trig point.

Here they had plenty of time to stop and admire the fine views of Sam Pui Chau and Three Fathoms Cove before the FMP caught up again.

The trail then led down and through Tseng Tau village to the sea and then back up towards Sai Sha Road past the Garden Farm Golf Centre. The trail then split into rambos and wimps.

Plod chose wimps and found Golden Balls rampaging like a lost bull in Ma Kwu Lam village. After Plod had cooled Dougal with a nice garden hose shower, he led Golden Balls back on trail to safety through the woods and fields towards Che Ha village.

However, GB again got lost while picking daisies so Plod and Dougal finished the excellent trail after crossing Sai Sha Road into Kwun Hang village, circumnavigating the temple and dodging hordes of fork-wielding barbecuers en route to the finish in a perfectly judged 65 minutes.

Moonie however preceded Plod, having stormed round the rambos after claiming to be ill and not wanting to run. Second rambo Liberace was later found to have short cut, while Sticky outsprinted Oranguwank in a sickening display of competitiveness.

Two welcome returnees in the shape of Bukkake (here for a 2-month contract) and Seoul Man (5-day holiday) enhanced the run. Seoul Man was true to his name – the soles of both shoes had parted company with the uppers by the end of the run.

The Circle: Led by GM Serbian assisted by stand-in RA Mango, much cheap/free/past sell-by-date ale and cider provided by Sticky Aphid Bottom Exudate (aka Honey) and the remnants of the 1800 booze was consumed.

Mannequin maker Kevin was named My Neck In after a brief undemocratic vote in which most present shouted for a rubbish name.

Ophelia (DinDins exudate), the youngest member of the most exclusive hash in the Northern New Territories, was named Roadie-O after her father 9IC loaded her tricycle pannier with a large assortment of alcoholic beverages for his short walk home (photo). – Gunpowder Plod

The Pack: Moonie, Liberace, Sticky Apid, Oranguwank, Stunt Double, Hoover, G Spot, Serbian Bomber, Ivy, Dram, Catch Of The Day, Penile Dementia, Mango Groove, Kevin, Bunter, Golden Balls, Gunpowder Plod, Seoul Man, Bukkake

The non-runners: Geriatric, Miami Vice (hares), 9IC, DinDins, Roadie-O, Emily

 

 

 

 

 Get Off My Land!

Hares Gunpowder Plod and Jam the Vag

The Brief “Police tape, checks, white string, red string, flour, shredded paper and toilet paper …. Oh, and beware!!” said the hare, “Little Sai Wan are running in the same area, so if you see their markings, which are white string, red string, flour, shredded paper and toilet paper …. DO NOT follow them!!” ….(??)

Would we get round before the rain came down …. would we get round at all?!

The Run 

We started from Hebe Haven Pier, just as a group of dragon boaters were heading out onto the water, and ran across the pelican crossing, up through Pak Sha Wan Village to the first check. And so it was that probably half the hash got tangled up in LSW markings, and not seen again until later …. much later!!!

The rest of us got into the first bit of shiggy where Mango thought he was a Lead Pathfinder and was busy letting everybody know until he went wrong 10 metres later!!!

Gaele Says No shouted it on up the dry stream bed, through the first bit of tended land and  out onto Man Kung Wo Road. More confusion with markings all over the place …. Plod’s …. LSW’s …. dogs ….

Down the road we went. Through some more shiggy and the first farm/nursery towards Tai Chung Hau. All pretty straightforward markings besides the fact we didn’t know WHO’S markings they were!!

Turned right at the bottom, through some shiggy and Farmer Fu King’s wife tried to set up the first barricade and stop us from progressing. But it was not to be and while Liberace had a slanging match with her, the rest of us were on through, with Unark’s parting shot of something about asking her if she would get her breasts out….

Out of the shiggy, onto the road and into more confusion as to where trail went from there. As we milled around, near Dodgy Mr Chan’s, who owns the Fwairly Weeriable second hand car shop who also tried to block our way with a couple of scrap cars, Penile Dementia smashed his way through a couple of side window screens to find trail and call it on.

On we went through a nice bit of a concrete path and another nursery.

As we were getting to the other end of the nursery  we were confronted with Farmer Fu King himself barring our way. He had fixed a piece of fence across the trail. Moonie arrived first as Fu King turned on the Stalag 14 search lights into our faces and demanded that we “Get ‘orf his land!!!” An argument then ensued as to who’s land it actually was and we just clambered over and under the section of fencing.

Moonie wasn’t able to find trail and went out onto Hirams Highway and back to the bucket. Meanwhile, the rest of the half-pack went right, up through the ‘Filthy Rich Housing Estate’ and back to the pier.

The Pier 

The Police turned up after about 10 minutes, after responding to a call from some irate farmers that a load of gweilos were running round shouting for “HELP!!!”

Plod went over to fill them in …. on the details and came back saying they were looking a bit worse for wear. He offered them a beer but they wouldn’t because they thought they’d had enough!!!!

So Plod stayed over there swinging the proverbial lamp and telling them “That in my day, we wouldn’t be driving round in a van!!! We would be out on the beat arresting all manner of dodgy criminals, IIs and anybody who looked the least bit dodgy!!!” At this point the Police Sergeant got out the van and asked Plod for his ID card.

Geriatric and Velcro came back after getting lost and following LSW markings for a while.

Back came Oranguwank who had decided that enough was enough of following LSW markings and getting lost so he went home for a shower instead!!!

Back came Golden Balls and Golden Jelly, who had been to LSW’s circle at Hebe Haven Yacht Club. Which we all agreed was a seriously shitty fing to do.

The Circle started without the GM and Catch Of The Day who were lost somewhere and nobody cared as long as there was plenty of beer.

Past came the dragon boaters after their paddling training …. cue Golden Balls …. “We’re Dragon Boaters too…….although you wouldn’t know it to look at us!!!!” (speak for yourself, ‘BALLLLLLS’!!!)

Onto some fine down-downs, which I can’t remember, and just as we were getting to the end of the business the GM and Catch Of The Day turned up!!

Commence the circle, Part 2!!

Oooooooo me head!!!

ON-ON!!!  – Moonie

The pack: Moonie, Penile Dementia, Oranguwank, Mango Groove, Liberace, Unick, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Velcro Lips, Sulieman the Tree Fucker, Geriatric, Sticky Aphid Bottom Exudate, Serbian Bomber, Catch of the Day, Gaele Says No, random lost LSW types