Hot, sunny and dry.

Parking on meters opposite presented no problem as there were plenty of spaces and no PoPo appeared as they were busy in Hong Kong Island. However, our visitor Crazy German, walking from Tai Wai MTR, had to get directions from five locals, the last of whom, standing outside the gates to the garden, insisted that “there no garden here”.

The Hare, covered in flour and sweat, chalked up the markings in flour and chalk and told us there were both rambo and wimp runs but that the wimps was “short and boring”, prompting BJ, pointing at Stunt Double, to quip “Like him!”. (I heard later that Stunty tried to shunt BJ over a cliff on the run but was squewered by one of BJ’s poles for his efforts.)

Started at 1610hrs and I was behind at the first check, suspecting a trick. I was also behind at the second check and checked downhill the wrong way so I was on my own again at the back for most of the run but thankful that the front runners were marking checks.

After ascending many steps, we emerged in the tranquil grounds and buildings of the To Fung Shan christian retreat wheere an ecstatic Eunuch apparently went into paroxysms of giddy bliss when he realised that they were not Buddhist.

At the split on the steps beyond, bearing in mind the briefing, I chose the rambos, following the sound of giggling kids – Eunuch, Piss-in-Bucket and Ruth – below me. Down, down and down interminable steps went the trail beside a river in a ravine . Then finally over a bridge and up, up and up more interminable steps and slopes on the other side, passing temples and cottages and curious villagers.

Then it appeared that the pack had been flummoxed by a check-back for a while before discovering a little shiggy path off to the left wherein were crossed-out gay-hash markings (Royal South Side) that could have been there for a year or more as they were scrawled on a vertical rain-sheltered surface and it became clear that nobody had used this track for ages.

At least it was cool initially in the woods and I foolishly thought that the path would rejoin the concrete path further up. But no. Up and up and up it went, hottter and hotter and more airless it got and the hilltop ahead further and further away in the stifling shiggy. Finally I heard the squeaking of small voices ahead of me again and found Eunuch, Auntie Septic, Piss-in-Bucket and Ruth cavorting semi-naked in a pool. I was invited in but declined thinking that if I plunged in I might never get out again.

So I plodded on for the final 200 metres and emerged at a check marked left on a concrete path. This afforded splendid views down the valley to Shatin with temples in the forground.

I was finally able to break into a shuffle again and camed to another check with the trail leading down a shiggy path to the right which I handled quite well using my stick and bamboo for support. Here I was overtaken by a late-coming Mhd G-Spot and later by the Eunuch family.

Finally we hit a road past luxury houses and later a path which became so steep that I had to resort to walking backwards to save my knees. Thus it was that I returned in 1 hour 40 minutes, holding my red lantern and thinking that the briefing was somewhat inexplicit as to the true nature of the rambos…

As not a single member of the N2TH3 mismanagement was present (other then webshite Golden Balls), the circle was ably and hilariously run by Liberace, who brought mismanagement lookalikes out one by one to punish. There were many other good down-downs awarded ……. but Mhd G-Spot called me in for “going backwards on trail” and renamed me “The Occidental Prune” – bloody cheek!