Hares Castrato and An@l Invitation
A good turnout of some 35 runners for this hash, billed as the post-nuptial run by co-hare Anal Invitation, who'd got married to Anal Acceptance the previous day. As it happened, however, the run should probably be renamed, as Mr. Invitation told me he was up until 4 o'clock the night of his wedding talking to his friend Legal Beaver. His new bride sidled up to me after the run. "What's sex like?" she whispered.
The A was reached after following trail, including at least three open checks, from the Sham Shui Po MTR station. From there we ran through the park, with Bondi Barbie striding out in front of the pack, until the first check by a huge cutaway. From there it was up to the main road and another check, with Inflate-a-date in the lead but not going far enough over the bridge and thus missing the on-on. Then up and up, following a long series of steps and trails to the contour path encircling the Eagle's Nest. This was the first split, with Rambos taking the longer arc of the trail. Beautiful running with great views of the harbour; side-trails were ignored and opportunities for checks squandered generously. Halfway through, proceedings were enlivened by an unusual check-back that led a couple of hundred yards up steep hillside, ensnaring most of the front runners. Amongst others, Crème Brule and FFFM were heard cursing most foully.
After rejoining the wimps, the trail headed down on Beacon Hill Road, where markings leading into the shiggy on the right led to further confusion. Wanchai Wanker had spent hours trying to figure out the way, to no avail. We later found out that the hares had actually set the trail backwards from B to A, occasionally forgetting to point their arrows the correct way.
At this point Toilet Spray, who had got lost and was futilely running up and down the nature trail, suddenly appeared and with a squawk of relief threw herself into Octopussy's arms. One more Rambo split awaited us. It led down the main road into a sports ground, most of the way round the perimeter, and up ladders to another road. From here trail led down some evil-looking steps and into thick, blind shiggy. Inflate-a-date encountered barbed wire here, in a manner that suggested he should be renamed Deflate-a-date.
At this point I realized that the three people (with only one torch) I'd passed previously on more than one occasion were actually on the LSW hash trail; they made their way through the shiggy with unfailing good humour.
We found the B next to a pleasant pond with cold beer and pizza, where the frogs spent the rest of the night trying to imitate and outdo Indy. An enjoyable and memorable evening.
Down downs by Indy :
…The hares, for the run, dubious markings, setting the trail backwards B to A without realizing the arrows had to go the other way, and irritating check-backs.
…Anals. The happy couple, complete with Cartier ring.
…Crème Brule, for leading everyone up the ropeway for the first checkback right at the top of the hill.
…Hopeless, no orange chalk for once, but that did not stop him and Piss Perfect from putting down lots of misleading arrows
…Wanchai Wanker, lost and wandering around in thick shiggy like an enraged elephant. Also for running through a checkback.
…Stephen, friend of Hanna Montana, running round and round the sports pitch like a headless chicken without finding the steps exit. And of course Hanna Montana himself, on his last run, drinking his customary 12 cans, an excellent hasher.
…FFFM, lost and weeping in the last bit of evil shiggy, where she was being eaten by dogs, shouting 'Why didn't you call?' before running off and leaving helpless visitors (Macao Drunk's family) stranded
…Toilet Spray, running around with large silver earrings
…Ash Hole, loving life, sleazing on the Free China, WH3, and now LSW. Watch out, girls!
…Legal Beaver, swearing most foully at the barbed wire fence
…Denvy, for putting false and misleading on-on markings when she'd not even checked the trail. Turned out she was correct
…Inflate-a-date, losing body parts over the afore-mentioned barbed wire fence
…Boilers, having no shoes on the hash, so quietly nicked Castrato's who then wandered around barefoot the whole evening