The Illiterates Strike Back
I have come to realise that it would be a mistake to let most of our hashers loose with an Ikea self-assembly furniture kit. There would be screws and bolts and even panels left over and plaintive cries of “Why is it looking so wonky?”
This was illustrated by this week’s run, where author Bukkake and prize-winning poet (yes, really) Serbian Spammer Bomber Baron Diver von Mooseheime waited forlornly at the start with hare, Moonie. Of our other writers, Golden Balls was otherwise occupied and Gunpowder Plod was laid up with syphilis (or so I heard). Nobody else had read the hare’s clear and precise instructions and so they all waited in the wrong place. Even those who, like Velcro Lips, had replied to it.
In the correct location, we waited as 7:30 approached and left and nobody else arrived. Eventually, I asked our hare to brief us. With the pack (of two) crowding round him, Moonie explained that the trail was marked in chalk (arrows, on-on arrows, checks, and a solitary check back, and… (wait for it) … orange dyed flour with one blob for trail and two blobs for on on. The hare’s instructions took a further turn for the bizarre, as he explained that he had not actually completed the trail and that after 8km (with no wimp/rambo split) he had given up. We should look for two concrete blocks and there we should turn to the right and make our way back to the out trail then follow it, in reverse, to home.
Throughout the briefing, I kept a sharp lookout for any more hashers arriving, but none were to be seen.
Assuming that the others had been put off by the rain showers, Bukkake and I set off. Since there were only two of us, we quickly made a pact to cooperate at all of the checks; whoever found trail at the check would then wait for the other to catch up before pursuing trail.
Little did I realise how I would suffer for this, as I had to stand and wait after solving each and every check, while Bukkake ran back from checking in the wrong direction. Of course, Bukkake had a different take on this, muttering about running all the extra distance…
After 4km, as we solved the check back, there was a sudden thunder of feet as those illiterates Eunuch, Mango, and Oranguwank caught up, asking if G-Spot had passed us. Velcro Lips and Dram had also turned up, although I’m not sure where they ran (except to be certain that it was somewhere that was not the trail).
Between villages, Eunuch solved a check quickly, climbing out of the valley while the rest of us blundered around, trying to find out how he had got up there. Finally, one of the locals called us over and showed us where Eunuch had gone.
As we climbed a short hill, I soon found myself trailing in the rear. A check marked the crest and I heard Mango calling trail to the left and so I followed. Bukkake was just ahead of me, also calling trail. Eunuch caught up from behind after he had lost trail, bitterly complaining about how nobody called trail.
Descending back towards Fanling, we all missed a small arrow marking a trail off to the left. At the wrong end of the village Bukkake turned left casting for trail but turned back without seeing anything. We cast backwards until we found the missed turn-off and followed trail until we found ourselves running past an arrow at the very spot where Bukkake had just a minute before given up (how does he ever spot the dragonflies?)
As we ran on and I had to stop to let cars squeeze past on the narrow road, I soon found myself on my own, out of sight of the other runners. Never mind, I thought. Soon be back.
As I continued onwards, I observed the transition from chalk arrows to the promised orange-dyed flour markings; both trail and on-on markings. Since they had missed the briefing, none of the other runners (except Bukkake) knew to look for orange. And Bukkake was blindly chasing after the other runners.
As I passed the two concrete blocks, I remembered to turn and ran down hill, quickly reconnecting with the out trail. There I found the hare, Moonie, marking arrows back to home. “Am I the last?” I asked, puzzled as to why he was still marking arrows even after I passed.
“No, mate.” he replied. “You’re the first.”
Refusing to let this go to my head, I headed swiftly for home, only to find almost everyone there waiting (short-cutting bastards). The sole remaining runner out there, G-Spot, was suffering déjà vu as he kept looping back to checks that he had already run through.
Down downs included (amongst others):
Hare – for setting a crap trail and (second down down) for not completing it.
Eunuch – for complete fuckwittery – he had actually been shopping next to the start while Moonie and I were waiting there and had walked past without stopping, on his way to the incorrect start.
Eunuch – for offering a lift to Mango despite knowing that Mango lives next to the start
Mango – for offering Eunuch a map to the (wrong) start
Nearly everybody – for failing to read the email instructions to find the start
Velcro – for replying to the run instructions without actually reading them
Everybody except the GM and the hare – for short-cutting
Dram – for being the same age as Donald Trump
Velcro – for being Buckethead (she wanted to be fish fingers)
Finally, for the sceptics, here’s one I wrote after a walk through the New Forest in the South of England, back when I was single and lonely:
Autumn Ache
I wander alone
Through swirling
Gold of sunbeams and
Autumn leaves
Drifting down
From the trees.
I hear the wind
Whispering through the
Branches above.
Calling,
Calling to me,
From wherever you are,
From whoever you are,
Telling me of your love.
How will all this seem,
Next year
When you are here
To share all this
With me?
– Serbian Bomber
Northern New Territories Hash 