The Location: Villa No 2, Tit Hang – Chez Jelly-Balls

The Hares: Golden Balls with Golden Jelly

The Pack: GM QT, Vibrator, Gunpowder Plod, Liberace, Stuntdouble, Hoover, Farty Pants, Walky Talky, Velcro Lips, G-Spot, Eunuch, Auntieseptic, Piss in Bucket, Immaculate Conception, Ruthy, Luk Sap Gow, Beer Tits, MSG, Cathy, Moonie, Tangerine Dream, Radio One, Back to the Future, Salesman, Catch of the Day, Penile Dementia, Ponce of Darkness and Anus the Horrible.

The Scribe: Vibrator – originally named:

The Approach: The first challenge of the day was to find Golden Balls and Golden Jelly’s place, well hidden in his village of Tit Hang . Thanks to a lift from Gunpowder Plod I didn’t have to find it myself. Golden Balls takes the first ‘N’ in N2TH3 to extremes. I think the next village north is in China proper. A few cars arrived just before we were off to have a good turnout.Back to the Future in full biohazard gear leaves the Tit Hang WuFlu Quarantine Center

The Run: The run started through the vegetable patches close to the house. Golden Balls found his old running speed and must have kept sprinting ahead of the pack to pop up at every corner to take photos.Salesman overtakes the toddlers

The first part of the run was flat and easy terrain. This didn’t stop QT tripping 3 times inside 30m. Luckily, when he fell flat on his face he had a soft landing and fell in the manure. His record for the day was 8 crashes on trail plus 1 at the BBQ.

The hill continued up and along the ridge with great views of Shenzhen. Luckily the fresh breeze wasn’t Northerly and blowing in any airborne WuFlu. Moonie, after starting late, came charging through the pack taking the uphill and downhill like a Chamois. Only Golden Balls beat him down in time to take more photos. On-On to the Rambo split.Radio One tuned in…

The Rambo started with a rather steep and challenging burned-out slope. Golden Balls later admitted that he was far too scared to climb that slope and left Golden Jelly to set trail alone. Moonie and Liberace were the first up. Libs uncharacteristically went the wrong way at the check on the top. This left Moonie to chase down the other side and on-home shouting ‘On-On’, while the rest of the pack were still floundering going up.

Coming off the hill I met Eunuch coming up the wrong way having missed the well-marked split. This obviously wasn’t his fault as he blamed his Piss in Bucket, Immaculate Coception and Ruthy for leading him astray.

A great run; no concrete, not too long yet quite challenging with great views. And a couple had some sneaky Sex on the Hash:

The RA may have re-name these two following the oblivious Back to the Future up Humping Hill!

On-On: to Golden Balls and Golden Jelly’s Bash with greet food and plenty of booze and a Circle run by GM QT:

“Why you don’t like my Brexit Soup?”

Photos: Golden Balls, Walky Talky, Gunpowder Plod, Salesman

The Location: Ma On Shan Promenade

The Hare: Velcropolips

The Pack: Honorable GM QT, Bunter, Crème Brulee,  Geriatric, Golden Balls,  Golden Jelly, Liberace, Ponce of Darkness, Radio One, Back to the Future, Jambe Moins for one night only

The Scribe: Oneyejack

“Shiver me timbers” (or “shiver my timbers” in Standard English) is an exclamation in the form of a mock oath usually attributed to the speech of pirates in works of fiction. It is employed as a literary device by authors to express shock, surprise or annoyance.

It was cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey.

The expression: “It is cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey” comes from the practice of putting iron cannon balls on a dimpled brass plate on the deck of a war-ship. When very cold the brass contracted sufficiently to cause the iron balls to fall out.

First time back and I get given the pencil!

The Trail: 

For those that need to know, based on discussions with the pack and hare, it went as follows:

Round the new cycle track away from the sea front, under the highway into Chevalier Gardens. That is if you are not Bunter, Back to the Future, Golden Jelly and Golden Balls, who didn’t listen to the hares briefing correctly, who all decided to run towards Shatin.

Then after scaring the natives, who were walking around with their masks on, the trail went up the side of a nullah and then uphill, eventually reaching the Rambo Wimps split. The Wimps went down left across the stream and left onto the road, the Rambos went further up hill before also coming down crossing the river at the water works and joining the same road. Both groups then shuffled down the road, through the subway and round the back of Kam Tai Court.

Everyone got a Down Down, some more that others. Started with a few bangs, as corks popped off the chilled bottles of bubbly donated by BTTF. Everyone got awarded a unique distinct cup that they retained for the duration of the circle. 

On On to the next Saturday Run at Tit Hang this week (see Next Run)

Location: Shan Mei Street Playground, Fo Tan

Hare: G-Spot

The Pack: Radio One, Stingray, Eunuch, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Liberace, Back to the Future, Gunpowder Plod, Crème Brûlée, Penile Dementia, Prince of Darkness*

Virgin Scribe: The Ponce of Darkness – formerly known as:

Post-Run: My senses come to a hurtling halt. Who am I? Where am I? This body that I have found myself in aches and the adrenalin is pumping.  Why am I here? Where have I just come from? And who does this body belong to?

This body fits me perfectly but it is NOT mine! I see what he sees. I feel what he feels.  I am aware of my host but he is unaware of my presence. My host enters into a dark and dingy playground….

The playground is surrounded by tall industrial buildings. I read the sign “Shan Mei Street Basketball Court”.  Inside the playground I begin to make out the presence of silhouettes in the darkness. We are not alone!

People begin to step out of the shadows; I can tell that they are athletes. Not by their body shape but their clothing. They are wearing trainers that have seen better days, They are wearing shorts along with jerseys of important sporting events. Probably events that they have participated in.  They notice my host entering into the playground and inquire animatedly:  What took you so long? Did you get lost?

The cacophony continues as my host is handed a chilled can of beer. A beer will sort you out” a firm voice states. I can sense my host is happy to see these sporty individuals.  Each athlete addresses each other with weird and wonderful names, such as;, Radio One, Stingray, Eunuch, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Liberace, Back to the Future, Gunpowder Plod, Crème Brûlée, Penile Dementia and the like!  A circle forms and a kind of ceremony begins .Am I in some kind strange ritualistic occult?  What’s going on here?

The Circle: A portly gentleman addresses the members, “Prince of Darkness, into the circle.” He beckons my host to the centre. “Who me?” He replies in surprise.  My host hesitantly enters into the circle. From the banter I can tell that the portly gentleman is named Golden Balls. Golden Balls whips out a familiar phallic looking item as if he were a magician performing in a show. On closer inspection I can tell that the object in Golden Balls grasp is an oversized wooden pencil with a fake lead tip. GB hands it to my host.. “Prince of Darkness you are to write about tonight’s run”.  I can tell my host is petrified of the thought. He doubts he has the ability to write. I feel his panic. We need to collect our thoughts … Run! What run?

A Flashback: I have a flashback! Before I entered my host body, I felt nothing and saw nothing. It was pitch black, a floating nothingness. I prefer to be in the warmth of a host body than to be airborne.I have been in many bodies over the centuries.  More recently I have been hosted by snakes, camels and bats to name just a few. There is not a body that will not do if I am accepted.  I enter them uninvited and stay in them as I please. I can use them for mobility.

Mind you most animals are predictable but my preferred creatures are humans.  They are so diverse, so complex. They are the most insane of all the animal kingdom.  But, the human species do have minds of their own and I also love to play around with their sanity. Furthermore, the human race have a great capacity for ingenuity, so with a little direction from moi,  I can commandeer their bodies and direct their madness to create truly wonderful things. And the thing I treasure the most about humanity is its CULTURE! It is also my favourite word in any of their numerous languages; CULTURE! 

With this culture they create language and art in many various shapes and forms, they use their culture to nurture their young and share with others. They build marvelous cathedrals, amazing machines. They share their thoughts through the airwaves and more recently along fibre optics. This species are shooting into space towards the stars. But sometimes I find myself in spaces without a body to influence. It can be a lonesome helpless place. A void I prefer to avoid.

The Run: Tonight I entered my host with a big bang. It was just a few hours earlier. At first I was disorientated, as I am with all new bodies. I scanned with my new hosts eyes and tried to orientate myself.  We were running alongside the industrial building on Shan Mei Street heading West with a convoy of runners from the New Territories Hash Harriers. This I deduced from the sports kit that they wore. They were searching for the markings set by the hare who goes by the name of G-Spot. My host wanted to keep up with them but I wanted to venture elsewhere. I knew the Hashers were heading for the hills above Fo Tan. Naturally I thrive in filthy crowded cities, so the last place I want to be is in the healthy countryside.

Anyway Golden Balls ran with my host along San Chuk Street. It was therefore hard to mislead my host in going in any other direction. We left behind the Fo Tan industrial zone and very quickly found the trail towards Kwei Tei San Chuen. The road ended abruptly and a wonky concrete path took over.  However, we had not been on the path for very long before Golden Balls announced that he had some kind of appointment to take care of. He swiftly took a detour and headed down towards the new estate.

I tried once again to give urges for my host to return to the city too but my host could hear the calls of the other hashers who were snaking through the village some distance further ahead.  My host was too determined so soon gave up with my attempts to divert him. It was safer not to.

As the path took a steeper incline the village homes became fewer and far between. Many of these were abandoned and sat derelict in the hillsides.My host entered a track that weaved through the bushes, the Hash House Harriers calls were barely audible across the valley as the gap widened.  The signs for the trail changed from arrows marked in chalk to splotches of chalk powder that looked more like dumped cocaine. My host Prince of Darkness entered the shiggy. This part of the trail was marked by dangling unused toilet paper. Not that I cared any less if the bog roll was used or not. PoD kept his distance just in case.

My host is boiling; why was he so hot?  I summoned his eyes to look down at his own appearance.  Good job I had! His laces were undone! My host stopped to tie them up. SHOES! He was wearing walking shoes. What stupid fucker wears walking shoes on a mountain hike? He was also not wearing sports clothes but regular clothing with brown denim jeans.  Is this fucker trying to sweat me out? Who fucking runs through a jungle with a thick clothing!? Twat! He had trouble tying them.  What is he, a retard?  I shrieked! Did I yell an expletive into his consciousness? I stopped cursing and calmed down. I felt faint so I simply observed my host’s running strategy.  The sound of the trail being called by the other runners had long disappeared but was now replaced with the sound of my sweaty host’s wheezing.

We reached the top of the valley and headed due southwest along the flat, my host broke into a sprint but he ran into a hidden branch which jousted for space on the narrow passage, knocking him off the trail.  He was on the edge of a sheer drop with his feet dug into the exposed roots. He managed to scramble up before losing his footing.The sound of the trail being called by the other runners disappeared to the sound of my sweaty host’s wheezing.

Next my host came across a stream with boulders. This part my host refered to as the Leaping Gorge and it was then that the Prince of Darkness’ jeans took a mighty big rip in the crutch. Heat poured out from his boxers as his bollocks cooled down.

No time to survey the damage; PoD hurried along a concreted road through the country park leading down a winding valley back towards Kwei Tei San Chuen.  Eventually my host was heading back to the playground but before my host could reach the finish line a familiar face gleamed out from a dining table at the local Tai Pan Dong restaurant. Andrew and Co from the dragon boat team accosted my host.  They forced him to sit and drink beer making me and my host very giddy before we managed to escape.

Run! What run? Oh! That run.  It was good…..

Back at the Circle: Crème Brûlée, Penile Dementia, Radio One, Stingray, Eunuch,  Liberace and Back to the Future had all got back safely. Golden Jelly and Gunpowder Plod never left. Then it was discovered that Golden Balls’ important detour was in fact to drink with Andrew of the Dragon Boat team 5 minutes from the playground!. Back to the Future also had had a mishap and she share her experience: she had an injured cheek which she nursed.

Gunpowder Plod was awarded the celestial bread maker.  Many of the patrons entered the circle to receive their jovial ribbing. Dozens of beers were either consumed, spat out or poured away. Golden Balls then recited a time he had a very unfortunate accident where his mouth was ripped open during a nasty prat fall requiring surgery. GB continued to fondly reminisce about being temporarily renamed “Cunt Face” He was in stitches, both then and now! 

The Re-naming: The circle came to an end and the proceedings finalized but suddenly it was suggested that my host was actually a pimp. The circle became reopened unilaterally wherein Prince of Darkness was doused unceremoniously with cheap beer as the instigator bellowed, “PoD, we now rename you the Ponce of Darkness” to the great amusement of the others, especially Radio One and G-Spot.  

PoD remonstrated that he had never consorted with prostitutes let alone solicited their services. He reminded them that he was happily married. With fond farewells everyone then departed on their merry way.

The Journey Home: My host smelled like a stinky piss-head which aroused the nostrils of of fellow commuters on his long journey home on public transport. For me I couldn’t care less; the shame was for my host not me but my host still held his head high.

The Revelation: Curious readers (who have got this far – Ed) may by now be wondering about my true identity. Let me tell you that my great ancestors gave you consciousness when we invaded your body.  It is where your great power and ingenuity came from.  You may call me a king because I wear a crown all around my body.  You do not have to fear me that isn’t important but you need to respect me at all times. 

My name is Corona.  You are born to run, so run for your life and savour every moment!

Scribe: Golden Balls

Hare: Liberace

Location: Central Kwai Chung Park

The Pack: Penile Dementia, Bunter, Geriatric, Eunuch, QT, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Back To The Future, Velcro Lips

Year Of Birth (YOB) Intro: 1956 was a great year for the birth of sporting greats, producing Sebastian Coe, Sugar Ray Leonard, Bjorn Borg and Martina Navratilova.In music, Johnny “Rotten” Lydon emerged bug-eyed with a rage that never subsided, and Ravi Shankar first saw the light. Chef Alain Ducasse and food maverick Anthony Bourdain had their first taste of the world, and acting greats Tom Hanks in America and Lesley Cheung in Hong Kong emerged onto the stage. In politics, Hong Kong had its first serious set of riots, with police, nationalists and communists going at each other – 59 people were killed – while in UK who could have known that tiny Theresa would be such a lame duck PM in 2019. Some of the future celebs emerging from the womb were not really there: David Copperfield, Homer Simpson and the phantom of the lift, Kenny G. And then of course there were the hashers: One Eyed Jack, Overdue, Golden Balls and Radio 1 *

The Run: Only one of this esteemed quartet * made it to Liberace’s run at a Kwai Chung Central Park. Confusingly, Liberace has the same name as the Hong Kong actor named above, but was not born in 1956. He was a last-minute hare when Stingray pulled out, but if anybody was expecting an easy jaunt (an expectation reinforced by the hare’s briefing, which promised no shiggy and “the shortest run I ever set”), they were wrong.

The small pack (Penile Dementia, Bunter, Geriatric, Eunuch, QT, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Back To The Future, Velcro Lips) set off upwards through the park and immediately into a steep, rough shiggy section that did not bode well for the veracity of the hare’s briefing. Once out of the park there was a Castle Peak Road section heading back down towards Kwai Chung, losing all the height just gained. I saw QT on the other side of the road gamely plodding up the hill but when I crossed the pedestrian flyover at the bottom of the road I perceived trail heading into Kam Shan Country Park – and QT appeared again, this time running back down Castle Peak Road in a plausible impersonation of the grand old Duke of York.

Meanwhile Bunter and Geriatric sensibly decided to create their own wimps trail. They must have known what to expect.

So, on up steps and more steps. Then up a rising ledge cut into an almost vertical slope following a narrow culvert which, despite there being a rusty, broken wire fence between the narrow passage and the increasing drop to a concrete splat – as well as a frayed fixed rope – could not dispel feelings of vertigo. I started to fall well behind the pack, although I could still hear them.

Finally getting away from the drop, I was looking forward to something a bit easier. But trail carried on up water authority steps, up a rusty metal staircase that looked like it could way at any time, through a short, flattish agricultural section and then onto more steps. These steps just never stopped. Every time you thought you’d reached a plateau it was a false one and the relentless steepness continued. In fact, it got steeper the higher you went. At least there was no drop at the side.Finally cresting to a walkers’ garden, I realised we’d actually climbed Golden Hill, 369 metres, with probably 300m on steps. There was a brief trail along the ridge – the only nice part of the run – before a left turn took us back down towards Kwai Chung on another staircase. Now these steps, unlike the engineered concrete ones that started above the ropy bit of the ascent, were carved into gravelly soil and reinforced with planks inserted edgeways into the ground. All well and good, but in most cases the plank protruded above the lip of the step, making it easy to trip – especially because the descent was so steep and the steps so narrow that those with long, size 49 feet (like me) had to do the entire thing with feet planted sideways. A particularly steep section reduced me to going down with one hand on the step lip two or three steps higher than where my feet were. (Penile Dementia also admitted after the run to descending with shaking legs.)

Well all of this took a bit of time but at least Golden Jelly was with me. But as we approached the blessed lights of Kwai Chung I heard a strangled noise behind. A sort of stentorian yap that eventually resolved itself into the voice of Serbian Bomber, who bombed past us as we emerged into the lights of Kwai Chung. On on!

Back at the finish it emerged Golden Jelly and I had been out for two hours on this “shortest run I ever set”.

THE circle: GM QT ran the circle, notable for the more than $1,000 donated by the few hashers present for the Australian bush fire crisis. Who said we don’t do charity?

Ed’s Comment: The Golden Couple probably took the opportunity to visit nearby Smugglers’ Ridge for a spot of dogging hence their extended 2 hour “run”.

Le Location: Tai Po Cooked Food Market

Le ‘are: Bunter

Le Pack: GM QT, Creme Brulee, Golden Balls, Gaelle Says No, Liberace, Stingray, Eunuch, Back to the Future, Radio One, Catch of the Day, Ponce of Darkness (and many more I’m sure but apparently they were forgetable – Ed)

Le Preamble: First time we met, the hare was named Q… but I’ve never heard this name again, ever. Instead everybody else call him Banter. At least I thought. Until very recently my ear received a snap in the cold:

“How do you call him?! It is BUnter, not BAnter! Can’t you hear the difference! prick!”

Well, in fact, I still can’t make the difference between anger and hunger. So if you invite me for lunch I might transformed into the Hulk. Anyway, what bunter does mean?….

From Word Finder:

“The name “Bunter” derives from the German term ” Buntsandstein”, “bunt” meaning “variegated”, referring to the colour of the sandstone deposit, which varies from reddish to greenish. It can be found in Warwickshire, Cheshire, Staffordshire, Nottinghamshire, Yorkshire, Devon and Dorset in England.” ……… ……. Some British humour I guess…..

But where does that take us:

To the garden terrasse of Tai Po Wet Market where BUnter set his run, number 1955, exactly where we had a colourful and joyful AGM just a few weeks ago. (Months! – Ed) Excellent idea, it is early January, night can chill. Certainly a good OnOn is in the box. And so a nice 20 something bunch of avid hashers gather, ready to circle the table.

Le Courir: Off we go, down the staircase , turn right, cross the car park access and Check!…

Straight or right. I follow Gaelle Says No right . He’s already 200m away when the call comes for the other way. I don’t even have time to cover the 20m away from the check that GSN flash past me.

Cross the railway bridge to stumble on another check. GM QT is standing on top of it, watching the wandering , ready like a shepherd to gather his life stock (sic) in the right direction. Once done, he’s running with speed and authority toward the next check, overtake me in the process, followed by GSN who zoom pass him.

The trail now takes us up the steep road leading to the back of Tai Po shaggy town (has Creme Brulee discovered a previously unknown lantern rouge quartier? – Ed) and linking with Ma Wo Rd end. The pack is panting while going up and GSN is passing everybody , pacing himself with a morning warmup jog footing. (Does that make sens at all?) (Was Charles de Gaulle an Anglophile? – Ed)

After a couple more check where invariably the GM is standing to make sure everybody is taking the right direction and GSN is overtaking everybody, we zap Classical Garden (Egh? – Ed) and cross the tunnel under the highway. Can’t resist to shout TRAIL! for the echo.

Turn left, go along the highway for a while. No need to shout TRAIL! here. Nobody can’t hear. Then slight right on crumbling stairs to go up the hill.

At the end of the stairs, on the right , there is an abandoned house with a large, flat, man made area overlooking the valley. If it was in the Ardennes in Belgium, it would be a perfect setting for an Auberge serving gallons of beer, fries or Home made meat balls.

But Liberace, Eunuch and GSN don’t care about balls and they follow the trail left to reach the stream. I’m about 50m behind. No much water after such a long dry season and the trail is jumping from one shore to another among the rocks. Need steady feet. How can Catch of the Day goes through this with her crutches?

Meanwhile Liberace is regularly announcing TWEL! Eunuch is chitchatting like a Virgin Twat with GSN who keeps the conversation alive with : “Sure….. Yes….Oh, I see….. hmhmm…… Sure…… Yes……. Really!?….. Oh, I see….” And then after 500m of this.

Liberace: There’s no marking! We have to go back.!

Moi: What do you mean, no marking? What about all these arrows?

Liberace: I put the arrows! We have to go back!

Somehow these three musketeers go back down the stream, Liberace screaming R U ?! I’m just staying there, pondering different option when GM QT shows up:

QT: It’s up! There is marking.!

Moi: Liberace’s marking.

QT: No. Not him. Flours marking. And to point a sprinkle of flours on the other side of the stream.

And so going up again, trusting QT who seams to know better. But really no marking at all except a Kowloon Hash arrow showing the way down. “That’s very strange” comments QT, “there should be some marking here.” Anyway it’s up. And finally we reach the Wilson Trail but nothing to tell us right or left:

QT: Oh for fuck sake ! Someone erased the marking! There was a check there and the trail is going right. I marked it! Explains QT, son of Bunter. The pack has now regrouped at this point and most of us are going right.

But Liberace: I’m not going right . It’s concrete all the way.

And while the pack is following the GM’s light right, Liberace goes dark left. And howls after 20m: RU????!!!!

Caught by surprise, Radio One grabs Stingray’s arm: -Is it a wolf ?!

Stingray: No …. I think it’s Liberace

Radio One: You sure?

Anyway we won’t see or hear of Liberace anymore and we follow the Wilson Trail all the way, pass the smelly kennel, go down one of the steepest road in the world ( looking forward to the next ice age for a bit of fun here) while Stingray is reading the marking on the floor: Slow Down…. Give Way….. Look Left….. All the way down to Kam Shan Rd where a On Home greets us. With no further marking. Some knew their way. Some got lost like Golden Balls and Back to the Future  who end up at the King Belly…., some took a cab (COTD…).

And with 7 check to solve, GSN overtook me 7 time.

The Prince of Darkness managed to find his way alone in the dark but he was so Lantern Rouge that we had to start the circle without him and anyway we missed the deadline for the onon.

Post-Amble: Prince of Darkness, now that you are Ponce of Darkness, take a fucking torch with you!

Florent@Creme Brulee

Run No: 1954

Scribe: Dingaling

Hare: Geriatric with Catch of the Day

Location: Kin’s Farm, Chau Tin Tsuen, Ping Che

(Sections in italics are for the history and triviality anoraks amongst us…-Ed)

Oh what a day for a run and oh what a start location, Kin’s new Farm and Short-stay (hourly and daily rates available but no toilets – “do it on the veg” says Catch of the Day). It was a great run, great weather but so many questions, so I thought I best address them.

Stunt Double wanted to know how long the run was; well as you can see from the track below, it was around 5.3km long but there was some confusion at the check on the Kong Nga Po hill top where Geriatric got his markings in a tis. (A polite way of saying screwed up -Ed).

The initial part of the trail passed through Catch of the Days’s greenhouses. Liberace asked “What is hydroponic farming??” The word hydroponic comes from the word hydro – water and ponic – noise. It is a form of growing plants in a waterborne environment where the plant receives nutrient from flowing water and a positive growing environment from the sound of flowing water. It is important to harvest the plants when they are young otherwise the volume of water increases due to poor moisture control with the older plants.

Readers may prefer a simple visual explanation – Ed:

After passing through the greenhouses, we approached the first check, Radio One found the trail but noted that there were concrete paths and old abandoned structures; what had this place been used for? A good question and one that can be answered by looking at the 1950 maps of the area. It used to be a brick works, hence the sides of the valley had been excavated for clay and areas prepared to dry and fire the bricks.

To some it may be interesting to note that on the 1974 aerial photo of the area, there are brick works in both the valleys and these remained in operations until the late 1980.

As we climbed the first hill, beyond an ostentatious grave, Eunuch noted that the hills were “clean shaven”, I don’t understand the reference but he was correct. Again looking at the older aerial photos, the areas used to be monochrome and covered with trees, but with the arrival of colour in the 1980’s the hills realised they looked a little overgrown and decided to clean up their act to make them more attractive to hill loving folk. Thus, the bushes were trimmed and vibrant colours were adopted.

As the trail approached Kong Nga Po, we came across a series of flat platforms and large tracks, the later created by the tyres of four-wheel drive vehicles, the area being popular with the sub-culture of middle aged men with nothing better to do on a Sunday morning. As we explored the area Farty Pants questioned the purpose of the flat platforms; were these landing pads for alien craft? Possibly, but the official explanation found in Government documents is that it is a borrow site created between 1980 and 1990 during the construction of the Kong Nga Po Road. So there. No UFOs! 

Ever alert, after spending 15 minutes searching for a trail that was not there, the GM noted that the markings followed the access road to the main road and back to the start. His eagle eyes spotted notices placed all over the hillside, but what were they for? A question that can only be answered by someone with an inside knowledge of Government process or access to the internet. It would seem that a contract has been let for the site preparation of a new Government facility. No doubt BJ is salivating at the prospects of digging up the hills and covering them with concrete, all for a good cause. But what is the facility? It is a new Police training facility. And who was the technical adviser for this new setup? Yes our very own Gunpowder Plod! No doubt he will deny his involvement, but his fingerprints are all over the plans. who else would need a ‘skid pan’ and ‘straight driving training area’; only a Jaguar driver.

Construction works are due to commence in the near future, preparing the 19 hectares of land, building a 100m long bridge and 1.7km of new access road.

For a project of this nature, there will be a significant amount of spoil to dig up and move around, thus it was timely for G-Spot to take a refresher course on driving a mechanical excavator but he will need to learn some key elements of the job, notably how to turn the bloody thing off!

There followed a great circle with warm sake, cold beer and tasty Japanese sushi along with some Japanese bondage/drinking games dreamed up by Catch of the Day, directed by Gunpowder Plod and won by the GM. And last but not least, an unforgettable Learning with Libs explanation of why Japanese men nowadays have half-size cocks.

OnOn to Next Run: 8 January in Tai Po with Bunter…

The Pub Crawl

Hares: Mainly Stingray but assisted by anyone capable of staggering a few steps to the next watering hole

Pack: Honorable GM QT and Bunter, Catch of the Day, Crème Brulee, Eunuch, Geriatric, Golden Balls, Honey Monster, Liberace, Luk Sap Gao, Mango Groove, Prince of Darkness, Vibrator, Victim   

Report: An exciting run, so filled with excitement that I’ve forgotten most of it.   There was some superb hare-ing, especially by LSG who took the startled (and surprisingly ungainly) hashers scrambling over a fairly high wall. I wonder how the locals navigate it – oh, perhaps they go around.   Thanks to LSG, I received my first hash injury on a pub run! 

Liberace managed to set a pub run that was distinctively his;  clear arrows for 20 yards followed by no arrows, all the runners looking around puzzled until “it’s over here” was shouted from 100 hundred yards away in the opposite direction.  Good thing there were a lot of us.  We would have been wandering the streets for hours seeking the next pub.

The operators of said pub might have been happy if we’d failed to visit them, since many pubs were treated to what might kindly be termed ‘out of tune’ Christmas caroling – a holiday event that, to the bar’s regular customers, mercifully comes but once a year.   

But a few minutes per pub and we were off again, hot on another trail.   Mango Groove masterfully manned the cash reserves; when one barkeep told me it would cost hundreds for a few beers, Mango laughed him to scorn and negotiated a damn reasonable price for those slightly post-expiration-date Knight brews.    

Stingray made the evening complete with a fantastic T-shirt, indicating the Tai Po bars on an MTR-style map; I will treasure the shirt when I am old and gray (wait a minute . . .) and not only for the memory.  I will only have to point to any bar on the shirt, drooling emphatically, and the nice gendarmes will take me there.  Speaking of gendarmes, we did not visit the Bobby London on our tour —  perhaps a first?  I guess gendarmerie is not the thing these days. 

But camaraderie was there in plenty; amen for Catch of the Day or it would have been an all-male (lesser) hash.   But all went smoothly; many pubs were visited; smiles were shared; cups held high; down-downs delivered (?).  There was pizza, expertly organized by NNTGM QT, the presence of Honey Monster (international (Scots?) man of mystery), the terrifying pool contest between Liberace and Catch of the Day (would he rip the cloth?), and extended cordial goodbyes as members of the pack departed in turn, awaiting the next crawl.

Scribe: Victim

At Last…the AGM!

After much dithering and changing of plans, the AGM finally came round almost a month after it was first scheduled — and what a good one it was. A well attended, fine run set by outgoing GM2 Penile Dementia with some last-minute assistance from Liberace, followed by a brief bucket session on the podium and a great on on at the adjacent hawker centre with the circle and election results taking place before the meal.

The run started from the roof podium of the Tai Po wet market cum hawker centre and trail initially went into the mazy Tai Po Market backstreets with plenty of checks and feints to keep the pack together, eventually establishing itself along the river and then up through the squatter huts into the shiggy. Fiendish check-backs kept the pack together uphill through the forest, with the most fiendish of all at the top of the hill. Then it was down, along a drainage culvert, down some steep waterworks steps, briefly along the highway then into shiggy again before trail emerged through more squatter stuff, down towards the railway and home. Well set trail with nobody lost and out for ages, all back in good time for the tables booked in the hawker centre.

Outgoing GM Catch Of The Day presided over a hilarious circle, and the new committee was elected appointed with the aid of an animated laptop presentation: young QT is our new GM, while a special new post of cleaner was created, to be known as Broom (“I’ve already had two beers, I’m ready for the broom…”). Roll your mouse over the grid below to see who’s who for the coming twelvemonth.

Then it was dinner (the usual gwailo garbage plus some very fresh seafood purchased from the wet market below) and old-style boozing until the hawkers started hosing the floors down. Drunk, we took the hint. On on to another year of the Northern New Territories Hash House Harriers!

Hares Penile Dementia, Liberace

Present Golden Jelly, Prince Of Darkness, Geriatric, QT, Mango Groove, Golden Balls, Bunter, Radio 1, Back To The Future, Creme Brulee, Eunuch, Stingray, Catch Of The Day, Walkie Talkie, Fartypants (incomplete)

GM QT

RA Creme Brulee

CASH Radio 1

GM2 Serbian Bomber

RA2 Catch Of The Day

HARE RAISER Back To The Future

BOOZE Stingray

THE CLEANER Mango Groove

WEBSHITE Gunpowder Plod