Toilet Trading

I arrived at Serbian Bomber’s favourite place in the whole world early for once, and was soon joined by four other hashers: Velcro Lips, Radio 1 and the hares Back To The Future and Golden Jelly. “Is this turning into the Ladies Hash?” I asked, in response to which a resounding trombone blast rent the air. “What the fuck was that?” Velcro replied “It’s Revenge of the Chick…peas. I had some healthy shit for lunch and tried to pick out all the chickpeas, but some made it through…” “I’m off to get changed,” choked Radio 1, heading for the toilet block.

A little while later I too headed for the toilets. My bewilderment on entering the gents – greeted by the sight of Radio 1 in her vest and panties – knew no bounds. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in outrage. In response, I indicated the men’s urinals not a metre from where she was getting changed. You’ve never seen a jaw hit the floor so quickly. She spent the rest of the evening protesting she didn’t mean to be in the men’s toilets half naked, a protest which became less and less convincing as the night progressed.

But I digress. There was a run to be dealt with, and the hares dismayed the pack with words like “hard run”, “”up and down” and “8km”. There was no wimps trail. There was one T. It was Back To The Future’s first stab at being hare for the NNT. Which way? Down to Route Twisk and across the road.

So off we went, into the country park management area and a three-way check. Eunuch went up the road. “T!”. Liberace went along the path to the left. “No markings!”. Creme Brûlée took the trail to the right. “Trail!”, and we all followed, until Eunuch said ,”Here, that’s not flour, it’s paint!”. Thus we milled around and even tested the 180-degree check hypothesis, to no avail, until Eunuch re-tested the Liberace path. “Trail!” he yelled after less than 100 metres. We should have known.

The going was rough underfoot with plenty of rock gardens and root estates, and soon it got more technical as trail led down down down a nice shiggy trail, eventually emerging at the village opposite Chuen Lung. Here trail crossed a stream, and Mango fell in, cracking his elbow badly on a rock. We all laughed as he lay there in agony, except Liberace, who said, “Mango, can you move? Yes? Then you’re OK. Bye…”

The next section sorted us out. It was a steep bamboo forest and trail led uphill along pig tracks through dense bamboo knitted low overhead. It was observed that the diminutive BTTF and the slim Golden Jelly had clearly not taken into account the girth of the chubbers that were supposed to follow this impossible pathway. I very soon had my head torch ripped off so was obliged to carry it, immobilising one hand in terrain that required two. Behind, Velcro’s muffled swearing could be discerned. Above, Eunuch was apparently levitating above the shiggy, so rapid was his ascent.

There followed more ups and downs, all in forest, of varying runnability. Velcro’s torch faded to nothing but Radio 1 was on hand to help her along. QT fell over three times. Where are we? The disorientation only alleviated by the occasional sound of motoring from Route Twisk. At long last we hit the familiar and hateful steps up to the road leading to Tai Lam Chung Reservoir, from where it was a simple run down to Tsuen Kam Au and the finish.

A successful hash is one that turns the air blue at the finish. If the amount of bitching and recrimination between the first half dozen back – scaring off a bunch of shaven-coiffed and tattooed tripod types – was anything to go by, this was run of the year! Back To The Future went round with a cake tin full of toffee walnut she’d prepared. The circle featured a 69 between One Eyed Jack and Liberace, in which Liberace’s reputation as a Lothario took a severe pounding when he appeared to be confused by what a 69 actually is. “Which way do I face?”

Great first effort by hare Back To The Future and co-hare Golden Jelly! – Golden Balls

Hares: Back To The Future, Golden Jelly

Runners: Liberace, One Eyed Jack, Liberace, Mango Groove, Creme Brûlée, Radio 1, QT, Velcro Lips, Dram, Antiseptic, T-Bird, Golden Balls

Collaboration

As there were so many routes on Electrolux’s trail from the Kau Lung Hang railway bridge pagoda, This week’s report is a collaborative effort.

Mango Groove: “It is a very easy run, I took 45 minutes to run it.  Remember the number C8034 if you want to get home.” said the hare, Electrolux, just before the off.  Foolishly thinking that this was going to be a piece of cake the pack sprinted off, with co-hare Beer Tits leading the way.  A short while later Beer Tits was on the phone asking Electrolux where trail was. It was at this point that we all decided to split up, searching frantically for trail in Kau Lung Hang, checking in all directions, running around like sweaty fools on a cool April evening.

Soon enough Liberace disappeared, nobody could work out where he went as his shouts of “Twail!!” could not be heard.  Eunuch messed around, always returning to where he had started whereas the GM, Radio One and Mango started checking out some shiggy zones. Then out of the darkness Dingaling arrived. ”I can tell you where the rambo / wimp split is if you like, I walked over it on my way to the run.” Not wanting to shortcut but really wanting to shortcut, a few of the group took Dingaling’s advice and headed straight down the path almost to the last bridge to find the split.

At this point Liberace had turned back leaving Golden Jelly and Back To The Future to find trail themselves. The wimps appeared to take us over the bridge whereas the rambo trail kept us going straight. A few minutes later Golden Balls, Eunuch, Crème Brule, G-Spot, One Eyed Jack and Mango managed to find trail leading around the Hong Lok Yuen layby before going into the main estate. We were to find out later that we had missed a checkback and were supposed to have headed towards Tai Po Tau.  So now we were doing the on back in reverse…….

Radio 1: I started running and ran in every direction through the village but couldn’t find trail. I saw Liberace give up and go back to the start. I saw Dingaling who told me where the rambo/wimp split is. On the way I met Golden Jelly. She said “Do you want to visit a new farm in Tai Hang?” So we walked to the farm and then walked back to the start. I did 6km.

Golden Balls: I arrived late and was told by the hare it was a short run, rambos 45 minutes, wimps 30 minutes, and she suggested I go straight along the road by the railway to the last bridge where I’d come to the rambo/wimp split. While I was getting changed, a minibus driver got out of his van and implored Electrolux to move her car, which was obstructing his three-point turn. Electrolux has clearly inherited BJ’s schadenfreudal streak as she commented, “If he’s a good enough driver he can get past…”

So I set off down the road, passing Luk Sup Gow, Beer Tits and Phil and then a couple of ladies who looked like Velcro Lips and Golden Jelly from behind but weren’t and were bewildered by my yelling on on as I passed them. As I got to the split, at the southernmost railway bridge, I saw Dram, BackTo The Future, One Eyed Jack and G Spot ahead of me on the bridge. I followed OEJ and G Spot as they were on arrows towards the old Hong Lok Yuen meeting place, while Dram inexplicably led Back To The Future along the cycle track. It turned out that was the correct trail, so what were these arrows?

Near the Hong Lok Yuen meeting point, on a sawn-off tree trunk, was a check. G Spot took the track up into the forest, OEJ headed for Hong Lok Yuen and I went to the subway under the roundabout. Nothing. By the time I got back to the check Mango Groove, Creme Brulee and Eunuch had arrived and were all following OEJ’s call of trail into the estate. I tried to use the code to enter but it didn’t work so I dis some nifty dodging around the barrier and joined the other five.

Eunuch: My grim tale begins at the mosquito-infested old N2th3 gathering place just outside Hong Lok Yuen, where a confused G-spot was stood claiming to be checking things out, but in reality he was trying to hide a puddle of stinking piss which he had just done.

Towards the direction of Hong Lok Yuen, a surly sounding “on on” confirmed that One Eyed Jack had found trail, and after catching up with him, Mango took the initiative to mince around the high security fences into what was believed to be forbidden suburbanite territory.Insisting he was best at finding trail, Mango then led the pack in completely the wrong direction, thus leaving us lost in a never-ending sprawl of streets littered with Filipino maids busy scraping up the recently ejected shit from their employers’ dog’s arses.

Utilizing a cheeky looking back passage, none other than Eunuch himself (that’s me), guided the pack back on flour, only to discover an arrow showing we were going in the wrong direction. At this point, the choice of continuing backwards along trail or following trail forwards needed to be made. For Eunuch and G-Spot it was simple, we’d picked up on the wrong trail at the check at Hong Lok Yuen and followed it backwards, but for One Eyed Jack, Mango Groove, Creme Brulee and Golden Balls it was an ideal opportunity to about-face and return home like little bitches.

So, not really much to say from this point onward, G Spot and myself went up through the gate (with the C8034 code), climbed up Cloudy Hill to a check, headed down to Tai Po, then followed the cycle path all the way back to the Hong Lok Yuen junction, confirming a pan handle loop. The problem was that the closest marking to the check at the start of this tale was in the wrong direction around the loop, however since she’s a chick we shouldn’t blame the hare, so let’s blame One Eye’d Jack for finding the wrong trail, phew, wot a looney.

Golden Balls: The Intrepid Six plodded on through the ghastly suburban torment of Hong Lok Yuen, clearly off trail but all following Mango like rent boys.”Why are we going this way when there’s no trail?” I asked plaintively. No response but a grim setting of jaws as we pushed on, and on, and up, and up, heading for the security gate to Cloudy Hill and the Wilson Trail. At last, near the gate, we saw flour. “Trail!” Then we saw an arrow pointing in the direction we’d just come. “You’re going the wrong way!” we called to Eunuch and G Spot, who had the bit between their teeth and visions of Cloudy Hill in their eyes. They heard us and chose not to listen.

Thus did the Inept Six fracture into the Cack-handed Two and the Ham-fisted Four. As the Four finally approached the barrier gate and the end of the baleful Hong Lok Yuen section, a young couple punched the security code into the steps down towards the country club and Creme Brulee, One Eyed Jack slipped through. How we cackled as the gate closed before Mango could get through. He stood there sobbing like a girl so I went back up the steps to try and open the gate while the GM and OEJ, sensing their opportunity to make a break, sprinted off down the alley beside the supermarket. By the time I failed to open the gate and got back down the steps a convoy of vehicles from the country club blocked my passage and I stood there while Mango sprinted down the road above to cover the break. Alas, I was isolated! But not all was lost as I used my secret tunnel under the railway to get back in front of the sneaky One Eyed Jack on the run home.

As we waited for Eunuch and G Spot (who must have taken at least an hour and a half for this “short” run), Electrolux drove off with Overdue and Antiseptic and came back with excellent curries, rice and salad. Good effort, hare!

G Spot: I smell a rat. We all know what the French did to collaborators!

Hares: Electrolux, Beer Tits

Runners: Eunuch, G Spot, Creme Brulee, One Eyed Jack, Mango Groove, Golden Balls, Radio 1, Liberace, Dingaling, Velcro Lips, Golden Jelly, Dram, Back To The Future, Luk Sup Gow, Phil, Antiseptic

Non-runners: T-Bird, Overdue

 

 

 

 

Rambo vs Predator

It was a standard One Eyed Jack run – meaning a well laid, well considered trail with lots of variety and plenty of shiggy. After some initial parking confusion with Creme Brûlée and Radio 1, both newcomers to the Shek Kong catchwater, we set off westwards along the catchwater road, encountering several checks until after a kilometre or so the inevitable shiggy trail was found leading steeply uphill. Did I say trail? It looked more like OEJ had simply pushed his way through the forest in an upward direction.

After a fair bit of this it started to feel like the Walky Talky / Hard Up trail last year that just kept on going up through shiggy forever, or at least up to the 500m contour. Happily this particular bit of fighting ended at a recognisable trail that levelled out as it twisted through the forest. Now it looked like the trail Salesman set for Shek Kong a few weeks ago, and indeed it was as we turned in an easterly direction back towards the start along the contour trail cleared by the salesperson.

But there was a twist. While the wimps went down the Ancient Trail for a simple run in, the rambos turned upwards yet again, where a check back took them onto an extremely steep descent into a ravine to cross a stream. This is where it all went to pieces, with front-runner Gaelle Says No running through the check back to do the mountain bike loop (with BJ following him) and Creme Brûlée characterising the descent as “not Rambo but Predator”. Radio 1 fell well behind the pack and spent a good half hour alone in the forest unsure of whether she was on trail (she was) and backtracking all the time to check it really was flour on the ground there.

The hare rejected all charges of trail plagiarism with the argument that he actually first set that run 20 years ago with the great Soleless. The man who was so competitive he would try to win his own hashes while claiming to sweep. One Eyed Jack, your credibility is shot.

But sausagy goodness was whipped up by some of the ladies present, who clucked their way through the now habitually chaotic circle until Eunuch memorably silenced them with: “Vagina girls, hush!”

Such fun we had.  – Golden Balls

Hare: One Eyed Jack

Runners: Gaelle Says No, Liberace, Eunuch, BJ, Mango Groove, Creme Brûlée, Radio 1, Golden Balls,   Golden Jelly, Dram, Antiseptic, Beer Tits, Luk Sup Gow, Phil

Non-runner: Electrolux

Blame Fruit

Absolutely it was Mango’s fault. Mango Groove wrongly had great admiration for the GM’s crap write-up last week, don’t know why it turns out to be ME in charge for this week’s write-up. Really I can’t carelessly send any messages to NT WhatsApp group any more. I should learn from Eunuch, stay away from this WhatsApp group.

After I had my hip operation on Feb 1st, this was my second NT run in two months. My hips has not completely get recovered, so I was taking a rest after Dingaling’s 120-minute (for me) run at Bride’s Pool. And from tomorrow, my mom and sis will visit Hong Kong for the rugby sevens and I will fly away to Japan on the following Monday for my left leg operation, and I will be on crutches for six months. Which means, if I miss tonight’s run, I won’t run for half a year. Or depending on the surgery, in the worst case I can’t run for the rest of my life. Therefore, no matter what, I couldn’t miss tonight’s Luk Sup Gow run.

Of course, I am counting 100 percent on my doctor and don’t think the surgery will go wrong. But any slight chance if I wake up with no legs with me, there will be no LAST HASH for me at all. Therefore I brought a virgin runner, Art, even though he said “I am tired”. I just told him “Get in the car”.

The run started from LSG’s rooftop in Tai Yeung Che. The next day was Ching Ming Festival so nobody had to work, and it looked like the LSG family was preparing a nice meal for us. One after another, hashers arrived and parked their cars on the shoulder of the road. Back To The Future arrived before anyone else. She was picking where is the best place to park her Mercedes. When we started our run after a short briefing from the hare, Back To The Future was still driving her car right and left with tears in her eyes. We tried to help her out but as soon as somebody (perhaps Dingaling) shouted “trail” far to the north-east, the merciless hashers turned their heads and disappeared into the darkness of Tai Yeung Che.

Something passed rapidly in front of me. Is it a bird, is it a plane? It’s One Eyed Jack. OEJ was sprinting to the next check. He can run like a fly these days. What’s happened to him? He’s not only lost his 10-pound beer belly, he’s also lost his sense of direction and forgotten how to short cut.

After passing by village and farm houses, the pack came to the next check and followed the FRBs down to the creek. The FRBs found T at the side of the stream, and everybody said “What is T? What is T?” GB said “T means back to the check”, but foolish hashers confused this with a check-back and were still searching for trails near the creek. Meanwhile sneaky Dingaling and Walky Talky went back to the check immediately and stayed on the main path and found the on-on, shouted “trail!” but it was too far, nobody could hear their voices except me.

When Dingaling, Walky Talky and myself arrived at Ping Long playground, the rest of hashers seemed like they were still lost, until we hiked up from Tai Om village in the direction of Ng Tung, through the forest where Eunuch and GB were caught in pig traps years ago. Finally I heard a noise from my behind. It was Liberace and late comer Eunuch talking about my buttocks all the way to the top of mountain. From there, beautiful shiggy trails were set all the way to Lam Kam Road. “Good job LSG,” I blessed to him. After I enjoyed the zigzag shiggy trails for 10 to 15 minutes, it felt like falling into a black hole. It changed to well maintained runnable downhill trails. I could fly down easily if I don’t have my two crutches. Five or six silly checks were laid on the trail, I am sure nobody was disturbed and they all ran down straight. Perhaps Libs stopped at each check to think where to go…

Finally I got back down to Tai Om and I saw an unmarked check in front of me. Big Moanie passed me without hesitation and I said “Are you on?” And of course he said “No, but I know where his house is”.

Thanks LSG, it was a great run and I enjoyed it so much. Dinner was fantastic too. See you guys in six months – be ready for me to pass you!  – Catch Of The Day

Hares: Luk Sup Gow, Beer Tits, Phil

Runners: Dingaling, Walky Talky, Catch Of The Day, Liberace, Eunuch, Golden Balls, One Eyed Jack, Back To The Future, Golden Jelly, BJ, Big Moany, Antiseptic, Creme Brulee, QT, Art

Non-runners: Electrolux, Hard Up, One Hung Lo, Overdue, 69K, Sam Miguel, Fartytpants, 

The GM Speaks

Merde! I didn’t think about this : with the idea of calling the attendees in French during the circle, I end up writing the report. So you are on for a painful reading, Couille Dorées won’t be able to polish everything.

Hare : Eunuque
Attendees: Jacques Le Borgne, Lèvres Velcro, Couilles Dorées, Gelée d’Or, Cul, Rainure de Mangue, Raie Piquante, Gaël Dit Non, Antiseptique, Liberace, Soixante Neuf, Radio Une, Bombardier Serbe

With some spare time, I stop at the Hong Lok Yuen Pah Kaï for a first necessity shopping. While browsing the wine rack, someone from the other side of the alley, where beers are sitting, shout: “what are you doing here!!”. It is Eunuque, with Antiseptique, filling the bucket and stomping the floor in socks. Yellow T and red face, Eunuque explains: “I set up the trail this afternoon, and it was so hot! There was no shadow up there! “. Nice omen.

The meeting point feels strange: no pagoda or shelter, no car park, but a cross road between a no name road, an alley digging in the dark , filled with cars, and on the other side, shacky warehouses / workshops. And dogs barking around. The bunch gaffer quickly anyway and at 7.28 Eunuque put on some leftover shoes to give us the brief : there would be 2 R/W splits , 1 CB that the SW ( Super Wimps!) would have to go through. And off we go , the direction being the alley digging in the dark. Couilles Dorées, Cul, Gelée d’Or, Raie Piquante are back in the running pack.

Quickly Rainure de Mangue is at the front, getting the checks right through the village along Ma Wat River and calling the troops with a warm, fatherly voice. Probably the 1000th double effect. Until that CB where the troops bunched up, looking for the trail. Once again the call comes from above, comes from Rainure de Mangue , showing the poor lost souls the way with his ray of light. Time to leave the barking dogs behind us and go in the shiggy, up the hill.

Soon enough we go across a grave yard. Some stones are cracking under our step. The moon is full but not quite. Goules, ghosts, vampires and warewolves give us a free pass for this time.

At this moment Gael Dit Non and Rainure de Mangue are leading. Liberace breathing on their heels. But Antiseptique and Radio Une have quietly crafted their way and are finding first the way up at a tricky, unmarked split. While Rainure de Mangue and Gaël Dit Non are exploring the right hand, flat option, Liberace goes for the elevation. He quickly comes back: “There is no marking! It must be to the right.”. Rainure de Mangue and Gaël Dit Non are also coming back, saying : “There is no marking! It must be up.” Everybody is a bit confuse, nobody is paying attention to the two girls calling the trail, up in the distance. Such a bunch of Machoron we are!

Finally Rainure de Mangue is going up and after 5m, launch a triomphant “Trail! You twat!” How familiar.!…

And the trail is going up, up, up. Splitting wimp and rambo. Fucking rambo, endless up, it almost takes me. Liberace is catching on me and drops me like a dirty sock. He joins Rainure de Mangue and both disappear in the distance. I’m panting, breathing shit. I got to pee.

Finally the top is there, I can see in the distance three lights pointing at different direction and hear some confused “R U?”
My luck, I can catch on them if rushing down the shiggy! But it is so tweeted and paved of bad rocks.

After a sharp turn left, written on a large flat rock blocking the way, It can be read : ON UP BITCHES! Thanks for your support Eunuque!

Indeed, 10m above the scripture, Radio Une is going up.

“Hey Radio Une! What are you doing? The trail is going to the right. Come back!”
“What?”
”Come back down! the trail is going to the right!”

Indeed you only need to be a bitch for 2m and the track is clearly pointing to the right. I wonder what’s in Radio Une mind. Beside , she’s still going up….

“You have to come down”
“I don’t know how to come down.” She says like a cat in a tree. I’m standing on the trail, guiding her with the light. Patiently. Bye bye Liberace, bye bye Rainure de Mangue. Hello Bombardier Serbe who’s closing the gap.

Back in motion again, going down a rocky way , crossing electric lines furiously crackling in the night.

Mean while , Gelée d’Or and Cul are working their way together on a not so wimpy path when Cul crashes heavily, cutting and bruising both legs. Gelée d’Or helps him and puts up with Cul’s pain and struggle all the way to the finish line. It is Gelée d’Or’s 200th run. Chapeau bas Madame! Lèvres Velcro hands you a well deserved silver mug engraved with your achievement. You gambai it without a fuss!

Once the mountain gobbled, a second Rambo is in offer between houses and barking dogs but it feels a bit gay after that mountain epic. And the loop is closing gently with a bit of concrete path. Bombardier Serbe has recorded the track : it is beautifully shaped.

The circle is opened with a lot to say from every quarter on tonight’s run. Thanks to Eunuque craft (easily in the top 5 of my short hash life) and also thanks to the still fresh records braking 1000th Rainure de Mangue run.

Next week run will be set by Soixante Neuf, Année Erotique according to Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot.

Post Scriptum : Jacques Le Borgne and Cul , good lads, were wearing a T shirt honouring the rooster. Hashers, take note : the GM do appreciate those little mark of allegiance to his frenchitude. As it is, I gave a lift home to Cul. Poor lad didn’t know that the first necessity shopping, including two perfectly ripe Camembert, was seating in the car for two good hours already. Mixed with sweaty close from a day at work, the stench was,….hm….

Post scriptum 2 : Q should translate by Q, isn’t it. But Q in French sounds like cul, which means ass. No hard feeling here, just trying to add some silliness to this all non-sens thing.. – Creme Brulee