Po Tsui Park
Hare - Fumio
The lollipop run at Po Lam with hare: Fumio, arrive on time hashers: Indy, Ruggero, Sticky S*x Toy, Hopeless, Lost in Translation, Rooted, Crackpot & Octopussy plus visitors Pillsbury Blow Boy from California and Polly? from Singapore, latecomers: C*ms up the Rear, Burning Lust, Cheesy Flying F*x, Gobi Lo & Thermal D*ck, plus non-runner: Wanchai W*nker. Ok so I wasn’t going to do much of a ‘right’ up just stick in some out of focus photos but I finally decided that a few words would not go amiss.
Having to take 22 stops on the MTR and allowing sufficient time for an average trip I had the misfortune of getting on the last leg of the journey with a driver intent on getting into the Guinness Book of Records for the maximum number of times he/she could open and close the doors at each station before leaving.
Finally arriving at 6.58pm and being bowled over by Ross & Norris McWhirter with the driver’s trophy I thought I could get to the start just a few minutes late. Little did I realise the start was several kilometres away.
When I finally arrived a motley crew of about 12 huddled together to keep warm reneges were staring in disbelief at the array of instructions being given by the hare Fuming Oh! Never before in the history of hashing have so many instructions been given to so few: off they trotted.
My turn to leave after a quick change and at least 15 seconds of pretending to do warming up and stretching exercises. As the instructions appeared to be in Japanese I just took a photo and headed off, as directed, in a diagonal line to the opposite side of the football pitches. ‘Straight on after the corner – you can’t miss it’ were the last words I heard. Now when someone says you can’t miss it that generally means you can’t miss it only if you know where you are going.
After approximately 5 maybe even 10 minutes of running round the park in the corner I seriously thought about just doing an hours run round the perimeter of the park and slipping in to the pack when the first runners made it back. I couldn’t possibly go back to the start and say I was totally lost – nay laddie. A miracle happened – an arrow appeared like a vision on the steps leading away from a kiddie’s playground.
The next urban section was relatively uneventful but the photo taking was proving to be a bit of a distraction as the camera wouldn’t focus in the dark and my headlight only sought to confuse the situation – so apologies if some of the photos are out of focus.
Off the main path and up some relatively easy going vegetation before I head a rustle in the bushes behind me. The first ‘I’m only here for the free run’ racers raced past never to be seen again. Next up was ‘don’t take a photo of me looking like this’ Indy – so I took two.
Arriving at the W/R split with CUTR catching up I had already decided to take good care of my twisted knee obtained when a Physio tried to increase my flexibility by pushing my thigh one way while pulling my calf the other – so W it was to be. Taking a photo of the R first, as I wasn’t going that way, then going to the W marking for the photo and the charge on home some greater spirit yelled ‘what the hell do you think you are doing’ and suddenly I found myself on the R which I knew I would hate and I was not to be disappointed.
While I’m fully aware that some other hashers get a high on testing ankle twisting track, and no disrespect to the hare, it’s not really the sort of terrain that I revel in. It was ok going up but after 2k of pussyfooting down through shrub Razorlight’s ‘I really really wish I could be somewhere else’ was playing loud and clear in my head. Another ‘I’m only here for the run’ racers flew past on a bend and I’ll swear his feet never touched the ground. With more flour, hell money and chalk per square metre than any hash I’ve ever been on it was virtually impossible (even for the absent MM) to get lost.
Later on I heard this wild bore crashing down the trail behind me but it turned out to be Leaning Bust racing past enquiring ‘are you ok Thermal how come you are going so slow - do you want the long or the short excuse?’ I replied. His race for a podium finish was short lived as he was soon found wandering back and forwards across the now famous ‘T or is it On’ bridge. Loving Breasts swore that the T’s were not there on the way out and continued round the bend to show me the out trail up into the vegetation which somehow he had run past, unlike the rest of the pack.
Anyway back to the bridge, as the trail couldn’t possibly go back the way we came otherwise it would have been announced at the initial briefing saga. Not a lot of obvious choices except for some pretty nasty shaggy. Sod it I’m going to head back to base camp while Laughing Bricks ran backwards and forwards trying to find the pot of gold. At some point I started to find arrows in the correct direction and even one place with arrows in both directions.
Now at this point I vaguely remembered another one of Fuming Oh’s instruction ‘don’t follow this type of arrow follow this one’. Sod it, time to stop trying to work out what could have happened to the markings and time to follow the out trail home. Some comedienne added a few ‘I was here’ names on trail – secret squirrel messages that only make sense if you’re in the club. Finally back home to be met by a nervous (I know the feeling well) looking hare who enquired if I was confused by the markings. Try as I might to be positive and come up with a humorous reply all that came out was ‘yep’.
Three stragglers, - Crackpot, Octopussy, and Pillsbury Blow Boy brought up the rear allowing Fuming Oh to finally relax and wipe the beads of nervous perspiration from his forehead.
Superbly well-marked trail except for the bit at the end that was superbly badly marked – well not really just a tester beyond the combined wit of the LSW hashers. I still believe the most memorable hashes are ones that don’t quite work out as planned and everyone is still talking about it hours and days after (preparing the ground rules for the next hash to be set by yours truly).
After lots of comments about the Scottish summer weather the remaining pack of 15 headed off to a good old fashioned market type Chinese bash and the Down Downs conducted and written by Indy (see scan below). A bottle of Sake in the middle courtesy of the hare capped off the evening and was sufficiently numbing to ease the pain of hearing that dreadful excuse of a song.
Fuming Oh generously gave me the remaining flour, hell money and chalk which is now in the good care of either MTR or Discovery Bay Ferries Ltd.