Ode to a HHH Hound
Things don’t always turn out as you plan – and as each hash, the trail ahead you scan – you look across the wreckage of past schemes – and wonder what became of all your dreams. Perhaps you flew too high and went too far – beyond the range of the hash Horn’s blar.
The On In paradise you hoped that you would find – existed, may be, only in your mind. Net your dreams within the possible – content to fill your hashing-cup half full. Though small your portion and the measure short – thankful be for what the down-downs have brought.
Around 35 hardcore runner’s, give or take a few, showed up at the a-site, for today’s Bush songkran fun run.
In the distance they heard loud thunderous cries,
and saw lightning blasting away all over the skies.
The hares looked so dry, and happy this day,
but it was all just a ruse to ensure that we'd play.
They said paper was white, on the ground and hanging,
but who then can
trust, hares that leave things dangling?
We were told to look out for pictures with numbers,
but no one told Jellobutt lonely wet elephants couldn't
be plundered
On the bus we went, toward Huay Yai's storm,
the long runners amongst us would still be out there at dawn.
We got off the bus when all was still,
at what
used to be, the blue house on the hill.
The long runners took off and went on their way,
the short runners remained and awaited their play.
They'd get their chance, all in due course,
but only when the bus had reached the water stop pause
“So, round eyed ex-pat bastards, you thought you were going for a pleasant healthy hop through Pattaya’s lovely countryside. Not so cookie boys, why you so stupid?” No doubt before today’s run there were some amongst you who thought that you had put up with the worst that lunatic hares could throw at you. There have been wankers trails across rice paddies, balancing acts between stagnant ditches, safaris through thorn bush clumps. You name it, and we’ve fallen into it, tripped over it or got lost in it.
Well didn't you underestimate the English/Belgium gift for innovation? Who else could have found a pile of mud three feet deep and 14 to 16 km long and send a bunch of frail geriatric unsuspecting Hash men and women right through the middle of it?
So ok, being true hashers, we survived the trauma of seeing our legs disappear from under us and continued on what would have been a clear and well marked trail if not for the downpour we had all witnessed from the a-site an hour or so before the run start.
The long runners more or less all arrived at the water stop at the same time
about 1 ½ hours after starting the run. A slightly red eyed V.V. was there
to tell us that the second half would be shorter at around 50 minutes ……..
why you forget about the the rain and mud V.V.? I told you no drink
the beer
Tampax bought until after run when you go ome, why you no listen me?
Around 30 minutes later at Mapbrachan lake, the tired, weary and bedraggled short trail runners were just starting to arrive back at the Siam Country road entrance to the lake -- and a 2 ½ km On In to the a-site on the other side!
Forty minutes after that, the first long runners (Mud Cracker) was seen sprinting along the causeway as the light had just about fallen away. We were told that the true On In was down in the trees below the causeway but the
only guy’s to go that way were the short trail runners: Ringworm, Yao Yao and Sheik Meme. Everyone else either missed it because it was too dark or said sod it, and followed the causeway instead.
Two hours and forty minutes after starting today’s run, Mud Cracker sprinted into the a-site. For most others today, the run was more a ball breaker that even Pussy Virus would have been proud. He wasn't here today as he was hanging about somewhere else under another dark cloud!
Everyone made it back under their own steam although one or two stumbled
back in the dark. That is to say, all except a couple of French newcomers, who:
after our failed bids to find them by car,
called a bloke in Belgium who called V.V. from afar.
When their time in the jungle, had gone by without meaning,
they got on a motorbike, and found the bar of their dreaming.
Nedless to say, they'd done with their hike
when Tampax and V.T. found them high as a kite
Maneke pissed and emotionally beaming,
they were taken back, to our circle of healing.
After eating all V.V.’s, very rich food,
all sat in the circle, and enjoyed the good mood.
RA after RA took the circle this day,
but the hares were not there, as they’d earlier gone away.
They came back a while later, and along with the French,
saw all in the circle, were totally drenched.
But never mind who's to blame,
we'd be happy to do it all, again
and again .....
The hares gave out prizes,
but only those who ran fast straight and true,
got the chance to call in, and confirm they were due.
So Jellobutt missed out, who care’s some may say,
only an elephant with numbers, wins the game this day.
On On
|
