Run No 1683 Wednesday 3rd June - Marina Cove
Hare : Allergic To Pussy
The Balloon Run
Hi ho, hi ho, it's hashing we will go. Starting at Marina Cove in deepest darkest Sai Kung.
The illustrious hare resplendent in his shiny DryLite vest outlined the markings. No chalk. Just flour. And balloons. Pink for the wimps. Hmmm... what's wrong with the old fashioned markings that have served us well over the years? You know arrows and stuff? This newfangled balloon idea sounds a bit suspect. Still mustn't stand in the face of progress.
Things started splendiferously. Up Ho Cheung Valley, joyful calls of "on-on" as the Duracell hashers darted from one open Check to another. All sorted in double quick time. Could it be that we were actually working as a team? Then into the foothills of Tung Yeung Shan and up through to a small road at Tai Lam Wu.
Undaunted the hashers ventured onwards and upwards over seemingly endless steps. A fairly hefty climb up stage 4 of the Wilson Trail. At 350m altitude pink balloons were sighted off to the right and the weak and feeble trudged off into the shiggy.
The more noble (and less observant) continued upwards along the Rambo trail right to the 535m top of the mountain. And again off into shiggy.
Now at this point things started to come unstuck. The air bristled with electricity. Below them on other mountains the Rambos espied dark foreboding clouds flashing with energy. Over and through the shiggy they went spurred on by the thought of being stuck in an electrical storm on the top of the mountain. Rain started falling just to keep them on target. Forty minutes later they emerged onto stage 4 of the Maclehose trail.
Meanwhile the wimps started to wonder if perhaps they had not made the best choice. The trail was narrow to non-existent and hidden by foliage. The mud was slippery. The trail was periodically cut by steep streams. The stones were damp and greasy underfoot. Your faithful correspondent never ever falls. Yet he fell a number of times on this trail losing (and fortunately regaining) his torch in the process. Forty minutes later the chastened wimps emerged onto stage 4 of the Maclehose trail.
At this point wimps and Rambos collided. The Rambos said that the wimps trail was the only way out. The wimps swore blind there were no turnings off the trail and pointed out that perhaps ten wimps had come down that trail and none of them had seen any turnings of any sort. Brazilian Buttslap screamed that it was the worst thing she had ever done and that she would "sooner die than return down that hell trail". Clustering around on top of the mountain an hour and a half into the run and still no sign of any way back…….
In this kind of situation leadership comes to the fore. It's just a pity that the hash is a disparate collection of odd and individualistic persons who perhaps don't lend themselves to leadership and rhetoric. People cast around for those with local knowledge - none. Or those with phones - Indy. Pity the only numbers she had were for people up there with her on the mountain.
It seems the larger the group the worse the decisions. So like a group of sheep we ran down the Maclehose one way. Then after a click or so changed our minds and ran the other way. Then back again. And back again. Finally after the fourth retracement the group fractured into more manageable sized chunks each with someone who felt they actually knew something about the area.
Led by Indy shouting into her phone at Plod and with calls of "I know this bit it's the Gillwell Scout Campsite" one group went southwest. Now those who know Indy will know that no matter how fond we are of her, she is somewhat locationally challenged. So this call sent shivers down our spines but given no better options we followed on. And to her credit she proved right! We emerged from a campsite and onto a small road. Civilization!
Down the road the group fractured further at Tate's Pass - one half choosing to follow what appeared to be the Wilson Trail down the mountain and down the valley back home. The other half ran down the Fei Ngo Shan Road and from there caught taxis back courtesy of a wonderfully helpful security guard at the entrance to the estate. Both groups arrived back within minutes of each other, a mere three hours after departure.
Another smaller group lead by Olya vanished off northeast up the Maclehose trail. Then cut off down another trail on the right and down back into the valley.
Now the wimps, that was a different matter. Marty the Irishman and Piss Perfect decided to head back to try out a shiggy trail they had seen previously picking up Nurse F***, Lost in Space and Brazilian Buttslap on the way. Not such a good choice as the trail petered out and it soon became evident that perhaps Nurse F**** should have drunk a bit more water. Making their way back towards Gilwell camp (why didn't they just go there first!?) they sent runners out to bring back water from the creek to keep Nurse F*** going. Finally they made their way out to the road where Brazilian Buttslap and Marty appeared in a taxi, out of the fog like an emblazoned chariot to the rescue. They arrived back four hours nine minutes after the departure. As a result of this incident I think we can conclusively rule out any suggestion that Nurse F*** is a camel!
Due to the extreme length of the run there was no on-on. There was no time!c Only the hardy stayed on for the down-downs adminstered by the doughty Hopeless. They went something a little bit (but not too much) like this,
The Hare - for creating a truly notable run. The stuff of legends.
The Wimps (Brazilian Buttslap, Lost In Space, Martin Smith, Nurse Fcuker, and Piss Perfect) - for not seeing the turning off
Castrato & Bravef@rt - for insisting that it was impossible that they might have missed a turning off.
Hopeless - for believing them.
The Hare - for managing to make an obvious turning invisible to the wimps. That one was a full can of SKOL Down Down.
Indy - for having a phone but not knowing anyone's number.
Indy - for actually knowing where she was.
Hopeless and Hanah Montana - for claiming that Indy didn't know where she was and they had to guide her out.
The Hare - for staying on until the bitter end waiting for the final wimps to return. As if he had any choice.
Philippe - for doing the run without a torch.
Piss Perfect - for taking so long to get back. Isn't this his backyard?
Piss Perfect - for not daring to do another run in Sai Kung next week "All I'd have would be one brown dog!"
Dr. Evil - waiting for Brazilian Buttslap, with his head torch on "in case she can see us" - from 4 miles of shiggy away?!
Lost In Space - for not flying this week and avoiding Brazilian airspace.
Hannah Montana - leading the pack out to Gilwell Camp.
Allergic To Pussy - Hare leaving HK for good next week - left his mark on LSWH3's annuals of history with "the longest night run" and 12 hashers in taxis.
Macau Drunk - "I really rather enjoyed it actually".
Stripper - the only hasher to find the trail, home in 1 hour 45 minutes!