Scribe: Sen
The weather looked ominous as we arrived at the well-ran site. A few hashers stayed in their cars, napping in the rainy afternoon with mouths gapping wide. It certainly didn’t look encouraging but then, we fearless hashers were never fearful of whatever Mother Nature threw at us. This rain won’t bother us and we will go through the run, or will we, for my mind was still fresh from that Wednesday hash not too many weeks ago when we all had to abandon the run, not because of the weather but for one particular co-hare. And today, we had that co-hare! And it was the same site!
The run started like any other normal run, foreplay before the main thrust, circling the perimeter of the forest plantation before we stabbed further into the deep. We passed a car that was stuck in deep mud, the driver and his passengers cussing at their misfortune and at the same time looking at us with bewilderment; panting hashers passing them by and not offering any assistance!
In less than five minutes, the heavens opened and it chucked down with rain. The first check was quickly broken but not before we had to wade across a torrent river. As we went deeper and deeper into the forest, the rain got heavier and heavier, blinding our vision and slowing us down considerably. The second check took a bit longer to break and we were straining our ears above the rain patter for callings from the front runners. The running paths have by now become running rivers carrying with it our precious paper trails. At the third check, we were stranded for a good 20 minutes. Immediately, I thought of the co-hare! By now, we all looked like chickens waiting to be slaughtered, our tee-shirts had become our skin and navigating through gushing water that came from every direction was becoming a life hazard. Restless, the crowd soon scattered lest they become victims of a freak mudslide.
A series of white and red plastic ribbons led a few of us to a rubber plantation, an opening and a tunnel. There, a distinguished silver-hair Englishman dashed into a tunnel and disappeared in a flash of lightning. Instinctively, a French mademoiselle and I went through the tunnel and at the end of the tunnel, we saw our first precious paper trail after more than half an hour. A few hundred meters through light foliage brought us up onto a knoll and another check. A wide valley lay in front of us and the elusive silver-hair Englishman suddenly reappeared at the other end of the valley but disappeared again just as quickly. A path ascended steeply up to the right of the valley and a Dutchman with a Spanish name looked hesitant as he climbed the path. After a few seconds of hesitation, he waved and the check was broken.
By now, we had on us a few extra kilograms as we collected mud on and in our shoes. The rain had abated by now but not our misery. The jungle path had become so soggy it was akin to running on cement paste. The last check presented some difficulty and clear crisp howls of ‘On-On” were soon heard reverberating in the rubber plantation for only the first time at today’s run. A couple of checks later, sights of civilization appeared and then that familiar iron crossbar at the top of a hill. At exactly one hour and 45 minutes, the first runner checked in, sparring the hare an automatic toilet seat and maybe a 10-weeker. One by one, we staggered in, like human prunes. I enjoyed the run overall and it would have been a cracker of a run if not for the weather. As steam emanated from our hot bodies and crimson red blood dripped down on some white pasty legs, I suddenly felt a tingle. Damn those leeches, why can’t they leave my crotch alone?!!
Venue: Universiti Islam Malaysia, Gombak (Off Karak Highway)/Sungai Pusu
Hare: Shirley Tan
Co-Hares: Trail Blazers.
As I have never run from this site this report will be necessarily vague. I noted that my name is shown as the recalcitrant scribe for this run.
I guess a surprisingly good crowd of runners turned up and set off into the nearby rubber plantation. Up and down and along the creek to the first check. This check was broken quite quickly and On On was called. The pack continued running in an anti-clockwise direction through at least two checks in the rubber estate before ending up in a creek for another check. The trail led into the jungle across the creek and up the hill.
At the far point of the run at the top of the hill the pack came into an open area before running back into the jungle to a check, the On On trail for which continued further into the jungle. From here the On On trail was on a path winding through the jungle and down to a creek. Fortunately the hares decided not to put a check here and the trail led home on the road. The trail wound along the road skirting the rubber plantation on home for a good run which would have suited the runners.
The runners returned at varying times after a good run while all the while the rain was pissing down.
On On was at Dave and Charlotte’s place as it was New Year’s Eve.
The GM had plenty of charges with the help of the bomoh’s.
A good night was had by all. Thanks to Dave and Charlotte.
If this brief account of what happened bears any resemblance to the run you were on it is merely coincidental.
On On
Silver Fox
Venue: Serendah Waterfall
Hare: Barry Sage
Scribe: Sripen
While most of the Committee members were enjoying themselves in Chiengmai on the Interhash, certainly cool and dry at this time of the year, many remaining hashers had to make do with a wet and muddy runsite north of Rawang.
Actually the runsite was beautiful. It was drizzling most of the time, but no real downpour, and the vegetation was green and lush, not dry and yellowish as a certain other place. The runsite had not been used for some time and it was new to many of us. First we had to struggle uphill on muddy slopes, interspersed with trails on hard rocks covered with slimy green algae and moss. There was some amount of pushing and pulling, but the scribes are discrete and will not cite anyone for indecent pushing. A few hungry leeches took advantage of the readily served meal passing by (another thing they missed in Chiengmai).
After the main hill, the run became easier. The hare had considerately provided directions for both a long and a short run and Berry even screened the runners at the T-junction (or gave personal advice if you want to express it that way). The long run was certainly very scenic. Coming out of the forested hill, we descended on a lot that perhaps may be used for a resort in the future for those who long for a tranquil spot, surrounded by verdant hills.
The trail continued around a large area used for vegetable farming and a few fish ponds. Experienced hashers told that this was quite recent agricultural development after the area was opened up due to logging activities. The area with fields was long and rather narrow, so a number of hashers spotted the front runners and short-cutted across the fields. The home-trail was easy, down a gently sloping gravel road, which gave some of the more energetic runners an opportunity to show that they still had some energy left.
As many of the most vocal hashers were shouting more than 2,000 kms north of the runsite, the circle had an intimate atmosphere. But still quite active with a number of charges, none of which will be repeated here as the culprits already have suffered their punishments.
On-on was at a well hidden restaurant, 218. Though we had no opportunity to sample the genuine tom yam, green curry and somdam (green papaya salad) that certain other hashers (hopefully) enjoyed further to the north at the same time, the food was quite good.
However, it is necessary to mention that a group of over ten Chinese are due to sit on ice if they dare to show up next time. Not only did they skip the circle, but they went to the same restaurant, ordered the best food and we busy filling themselves when we arrived. They left, stomachs filled to the brim, while they rest of us were starving and waiting patiently for the cook to prepare what they had spared.