The Short, the Bad and the Fugly
Hare: Jerry French
Venue: Taman Agroteknologi
Scribe: John Paul Brown
The brash young Hasher announces to Master Hasher Dave
"I am ready to Hash, I am not afraid"
To which Master Hasher Dave coldly replies
"yessss, you will be, you will be!"
Or, for those who aren't into Star Wars quotes
There are old hashers and there are bold hashers, but there are no old bold hashers.
This just about sets the scene and mood for run 1689, the Short, the Bad and the Fugly. Confusion at the run site did not bode well. Paper was here and it was also there. Which was the start of the run, which was the finish and which was the false trail? Never mind, the run started predictably with the Hopelessly Enthusiastic Fast Young Things (hereafter referred to as HEFTY's) led by Laurence charging up the lose, steep, hole infested road cutting like the British storming the beach at Gallipoli following what was obviously a false start while the Experienced Old Gits (hereafter referred to as the EOG's) ambled down the road like Three Toed Sloths on Valium, laughing all the way.
The paper leading up lose, steep road cutting of course went absolutely nowhere and ended in an unusual new Hash sign - a big Hash paper T (hummm???). Obviously not the on-on so down the steep, lose road cutting charged the HEFTY's with yours truly using the perfect bum slide technique that I perfected after years of practice on my grandmas stair case. Meanwhile the EOG's had found the paper leading across the river - just wide enough and deep enough to get everyone's feet nice and wet and up the hill through the bamboo. Fortunately for the HEFTY's the hill was long enough to ensure that the EOG's were huffin and puffin over there geriatric walking tools by half way up the hill which allowed the HEFTY's to once again charge off down the next false trail where we found yet another new hash sign which rather cheekily indicated that the real run was a "long, long way back". Hummm, and I thought the false trails were meant to be 120m max??!! So once again the HEFTY's charged back up the false trail discussing various tortures for the Hare - egg's, flour, ice, rabid ferrets down the shorts!
Once again, back on paper, down through the bamboo and a few bits of nasty rattan. Up the next hill, jump (or roll, depending on your waistline) over a few trees and a big down hill back to the river where we found our cunning Hare waiting with several bottles of Vodka and orange. Now far be from me to encourage binge drinking and alcohol abuse on the hash, but if I am ever in charge of the Hash I will vote to make this a compulsory feature of every Hash. Sitting in the river with a cold voddy and orange while watching my new friend Mr. Leach suck up some vodka laced blood was marvelous.
But sadly all good things must come to an end and so after the semi-legal libation it was a short hike back up to Ramly's truck to start on the 100 plus/mango juice/Tiger/Guinness. Pre-circle conversation centered around discussing whether "it" had been worth "getting out of bed for" and pre-circle activities included some of the HEFTY's going for a jog down the road to replace the 6 KM that was mysteriously missing from the Hash!
All in all, a bit of a short run, and in fact not much running, more a lot of slogging up hills and finding strange new Hash symbols for False Trail. Anyhow, for me the vodka and orange made up for the 2.7 km run so I hope there was no toilet seat involved.
At this point my H1N1 like fever was getting the better of me so I went home. I presume the Hare got thoroughly roasted but I hope no rabid ferrets where involved. Since Dave Smith wasn't at the run I presume we didn't have any of his amusing jokes about people with short arms, short brains or big mouths. And since I wasn't at the circle the other Dave (who shall remain nameless) couldn't get me on the box and make me flash my tackle - which he seems to do quite regularly, hummmm!
On on.
Venue: Ulu Yam Hot Springs
Hare: John Brown
Co-Hare: Whoremonger
Scribe: Maid Marion
Cars were parked neatly at first and a space allocated for the beer truck. Toilets and large hot baths at the run site is always a good sign although just as the run was about to start the local outdoor adventure boys decided to wade across the postage stamp swamp and through our car park. The key box was hastily put in a place of safety but sadly no one in authority took charge at the allotted moment to send off the pack.
Confusion reigned until our JM Dave ‘Heartbreaker’ Wilson called the pack to order at 4.35pm in the alternative car park. The pack was off and up a gentle tarmac path into the orchards where many of the harriettes relieved the trees of their burden of fruit. Although ‘Featherlite’ did resist the temptation of munching through a jack fruit while on the run.
1st & 2nd checks were disguised well and the pack continued to bark ‘Are You’ for some minutes at both scenic spots. ‘Rambo’ insisted the 2nd check was over the hill down to the river. The trail was down the hill away from the river.
With pack back on trail in lush undergrowth we suddenly emerged into a barren lunar landscape which possibly reminded a few of the moon landing anniversary. The 3rd check confused all and the pack ended up spread out across the barren terraces. A far cry sent everyone back from the false trail they had been pointlessly following. Smart thinkers made a short cut down a dusty road to the point where the paper cut back into greenery. Most ending up trudging through a swamp, ‘exactly as planned’ according to the Hare.
Greenery is greenery and so we went on. Up hill, down dale. More orchards, through bamboo and up another hill down to the river where Charles’YK’ Lee was grabbed by an anaconda illusion to enhance his bathing activities.
Into oil palm for a gentle jog and another sighting of Uncle Looi. Back across the river and heading for home rambling along the beautiful terraces and tracks in overgrown rubber.
A lovely trail in a good area planned nicely by the hares.
Back at the run site over eagerness to get into the hot bath had sent Roelef sprawling causing plenty of red stuff to come out of his head. By the time most of the pack returned he had a neat Roti Canai wrapped around his head. I am told no real damage done although he is now showing a significant increase in IQ.
Many of the pack took the opportunity to have their annual bath. Dorian ‘Kojak' Landers declined due to the truck loads of streptococci he believed lived in these tanks when hashers were present. Probably a wise move. ONON.
Venue: Kota Puteri (back-end of Batu Arang)
Hare: Ben Kulen & many Can-Ams
Co-Hare: Kamikaze
Scribe: Patrick Russell
A goodly number of the HHH crew turned up for the combined US / Canada independence day runs. July 1st very conveniently for North America is Canada Day.
The run-site in the vicinity off the Kuala Selangor Rd was good with lots of parking and much evidence of preparation with marquees, BBQ’s and other good ol’ boy paraphernalia including pick-up trucks and ice-boxes. No guns, no turkeys.
Rather like the Grand Old Duke of York the run set of up the hill and straight back down again. So when they were up, they were up, and when they were down they were down etc etc. (was this a clever allusion?), in order to be shot with water-pistols by the treacherous North Americans.
Then it was off around the swamp, thru the forest, up the hill and so on and so on. All normal HHH stuff with some great long distance views from the highpoints out towards Kuala Selangor and the ocean.
The hares were fortunate it was a good day but with a cloud of cover, because tree cover was in rather short supply, with a lot of open hill slogging up and down. But fear not the overheated, because in that very efficient American way, the lovely Nancy turned up like a Pan-Am, TWA, Delta, United, US-Air – no Continental - air-hostess with an ice box full of pre-sliced and deeply iced and chilled water-melon. Nice melons, Nancy, you should get them out more often.
Then it was thru a dry jungly bit, up a slope and up and up a bit and out into the open where the back-markers could see the FROP’s c 1.5km way round a kolam memancing (lake). Actually, this would have been a totally perfect torch-light run, with torches string out across the hills and dales.
Then a bit more of this and that, past the illegal immigrant plastic shanty town (poor guys), down the hill, round the other side of the swampy lake and back up the hill to the run-site. Where-upon the T-shirt freebie was presented to the survivors.
Where there was tex-mex nachos with spicy chilly dip, cold beer (of course) and other cold drinks. Then the usual hash-natter and an unusually relaxed sitting circle (P-T-L we have moved away from the silly “You vill stand and you vill enjoy yourself! For 1hr & 23 mins. Understood!?” era). Jokes were told, charges were discharged and Paul K became an honorary Yank stage show anchorman for the evening.
The chefs had been busy and a delicious red-neck dinner was served – burgers, hot-dogs & apple pie! Yes-sirree! Hot-dawg! Hoo-ha! Ride ‘em cowboy! It was damned tasty camp cooking, ma’am! Better than a burnt steak an a mess of grits. And then the inevitable fireworks. “Oh say can you see....” Not to forget the co-sponsoring canuck(s).
Overall, a good run sensibly short 6.4 km given the lack of shade and the heat and the promise of a bit of party later. Much forethought and effort from the hares and a generously sponsored T-shirt and honest to goodness on-site On-On. Anyway, every –one seemed to enjoy it. The weather was perfect and thus passed another balmy evening in the tropics.
Thanks to the hares and sponsors from all.
P.S. - I did write a lengthy joke about the “war on terror”, predator drones, off-target missile strikes, malfunctioning facial recognition software, a missing Graham Woods and Pentagon spokesman Major “Mad Mike” MA Futtbucker III, but in the interests of Anglo-American goodwill I have deleted it from my files.