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Hashshit Holders Next Week and Elephant Man

Its Thursday and thankfully the mayhem of Monday night is but just a disturbing memory! As I vaguely remember it was all a bit of a curates egg, some good bits and some embarrassingly forgettable bits. The athletic task force had been in surprisingly good temper, when it set off from a new or at least rarely used site somewhere off Jalan Bogor Raya, just south of Cibinong. The weather was acceptable, but that was not enough to explain the general good humor that accompanied us on our way. Up the road from the site, a short hike along a larger road and then a lefty into the kampung and soon out into the sawah, tricky little checks had us guessing before we were to reach a path along a canal. The hares tested us by a series of checks over bamboo bridges, over the canal and up the steeper slope the other side. Eventually one of these diversions was the proper route. By now it was twenty past five and the pack was still bunched. From now on though the running became more serious and the pack stretched itself over a longer front. Yet another teasing check and as luck would have it I was out in front. For what seemed like an endless period I forced myself onwards, the first against the scorching heat and the howling gale, the first to reach the mosquito invested swamps, the eerie gloom of the bamboo thickets and the undulations of strength sapping red earth country. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness I continued to force myself, but eventually I was tricked by one check and Jonathan Gordon eased by, followed Mudguard and Leeky Dick. Soon we were to come across the newest recruit to the short cutting bastard league, Col. Bloodbank, who was then to bore and eventually annoy us as he unsuccessfully tried to explain how he’d already run twice as far as everyone else. He did tell us that Angie was way out in front of us, and we all new that there would later be tedious stories of how he’d been on paper all the way. Eventually we were to come across the trail that we had run out on. One slippery and tenuous bamboo catwalk slowed us all down, and some time after passing over we could hear a final splintering and a splash as Holy Joop failed in his crossing. For me I had enjoyed the run arriving back in a timely 1hour and 10, a few runners had arrived 5 or so minutes earlier and most were back by 10 minutes after. The fateful Leeky arrived the last after being fooled by what had been the final check of the day.

The Hash Master was back! No one seemed that interested though and even his attempts at telling us about his golf game in Irian Jaya [= West Papaya of earlier reports] didn’t come to much. Something about lots of rough, but whether that was on the course or in the bars we never knew. I think he tried to tell a funny about being gobbled by monkeys or was it monks? For me this was an opportunity to have a slash and enjoy a few minutes, in the cooling breeze, watering the river below.

And so to the run discussion, a period in the evening when erudite and sometimes mildly humorous debate is enacted mainly by our more experienced [and pushy] hashers. A time for the novice to learn about the strategies, and time the consuming planning that had got us there, and how the committee brilliantly masterminds the coupling of hares, who attempt to set a challenge which is both a test of endurance and intellect. Finally how the hash master selects and sifts even the smallest morsels of evidence and makes his decision on the quality of the run, a decision which will then stand in the annals of hash lore for all time. On this particular run the committee had selecteed an intriguing pairing, one brain dead and the other brainless, but there turned out to be massive support for it from the likes of Skin Head, Holy Joop, Rabeye, KK, Jungle Fucker, a Tall Orange Fucker, GoblockM, Sadist, Magic Dragon, Vatican Rag, Tom Jones, Herpes, Jonathan Gordon, Next Week and lots more. There were two amongst so few though who very correctly noted that for various reasons it was technically a hash shit. So where would the scales settle on this one?

There was some good singing led initially by Crusty, with the Girls from Maribia [where every that is]. Some cheeky new verses to S and M Man from Col. Bludlust, regarding the previous week’s Welsh Run, which is being touted for Run of the Year. The Tall Orange Fucker [who thankfully was only a visitor] chipped in with a song, but his purchase of those dreadful blue hash shorts was a highlight of the evening and sincere congratulation should go out to Nick Leison who master minded the sale in the absence of his father, Jonesy. [The designer of the said items [Herpes] was noticeably quiet at this point]. The hares sung songs vaguely the tunes of ‘Have You Ever’ and ‘Heavens Door’. The second of the two being the most controversial, as some thought it was slur on the memories of Bob Dylan and someone else, possibly Yoko Ono, if they had been dead.

There was little ice early on but eventually the RA’s asserted them selves, with Angie and Herpes selecting necessary candidates. There were down downs for the winning and loosing America’s Cup teams, with one team being essentially more greasy than the other. Mugs were given to a couple of mugs; Jungle Fucker for 550 runs and Browneye for last year’s run of last year. Magic told a joke about Adam and Eve and we all wandered what Tarzan meant when he said he was going to Make a Jock. There was something quite funny about someone or something being adroit, but like so many other things on that that fateful night it is lost and forgotten in the mists of time…………………

Back to the bonsai [E.M.].

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