A Combo of Drug Running & Biological Warfare
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We all know Rule #1 of the hash…….but can you remember Rule #2 ?
Most of you have probably forgotten, I’ll bet. OK, so when you know that the weather might be a bit dodgy, it’s best to jump on-line and check the met office forecast. It really helps.
It was lucky that good old Lane Cove has been a stomping ground for 40 years, so the territory was generally familiar but the options were pretty varied. Anyway about 5 or 10 minutes into the run the heavens opened and all the carefully and lightly laid chalk arrows and mini dobs of flour disappeared “pronto – like!”
The front runners started calling each other for moral support, not least the ever vocal Goon Show. Not that gave him or his running mates any idea where they were until good old Salty showed up with map in hand and (dickhead) torch on head, and from thereon it was essentially a live hare/TM run for the rest of the night with Salty laying down fresh chalk to keep us all together.
It’s amazing that with all the “you beaut” LED torch give-aways in the last 3 or 4 years just how many POSHmen reckon they have military styled night vision. For instance Chastity and PayLing walk around with such flat batteries that they wouldn’t be able to find their own crotches for a good scratch. Major Disaster steps out every Monday night sans any illumination…on Principle. Others just have weekly amnesia.
But let’s get on with the run. It was a good combination of a few parks, reserves, laneways and quiet streets to lose ourselves in, and we worked our way round in a rough circle, returning via Gordon Street passing God Knows’ esteemed chateaux; but where was God Knows? Well, God only knows!
I was thinking to myself “Ahhhhhh…. Time for a quick shot of port or some other enriching liquid substance”…but the lights were orrrff and no one at home. Neither was God Knows with us for the night.
Thinking that we were within spitting distance to home we plunged into a dark and damp urban woodland and now being ahead of Salty ’and without his careful guidance’, it was hard to know if this was truly the trail home. Flour was almost non existent…but a little later we saw funny smatterings of white stuff half way up tree trunks…or was that just some kind of fetid fungus?. There’s always some clever “know-it-allbugger”
who knows exactly where to go on winter runs……..Well this time they weren’t with us.
Grape ‘urged’ us up to high ground…”You can always see where you are going and where to go to” Prophetic words they were, as this brought us out onto Mowbray Road with just a short jaunt up the road and back to the bucket.
Wagga Rod showed up just before the run start with a young offsider called “H” or was that “Haitch”. Both showed us that as a hash group we have all become that bit older and slower, but because our ailments et al are all relative to each other we hadn’t noticed our loss of pace over the years.
Six Foot Dick (an unsubstantiated brag of a name) and Candlestick from the North Shore
Wanderers……also infiltrated our ranks. But they were sufficiently outnumbered so as to make no difference to the Monday night chemistry.
A good run, about the right length, enough variety en-route, but pity that God Knows hadn’t set up a table outside his pad with Port or Whisky shots to keep us going to the bitter end. Also, had the hares laid surveyor’s chalk knowing that heavy rain was imminent and placed bigger dobs of flour, then the trail markings may well have survived the downpour. A good lesson for future hares.
The On-On in the Great Northern is always a guaranteed standard. Steaks aplenty, at $12 a pop with chips and salad and Frenchie had wrangled for us to buy our wine in the bottleshop, then take it into the dining room and thus avoid the corkage. Good one! But what Frenchie and/or Calici failed to do was herd the hash mob to the allocated dining room area to sit altogether. Instead it was every hashman for himself who chose their own tables scattered in the public area and solemnly watched Adam Scott trounce the ever sexed Tiger Woods in the US Masters. That put paid to any down downs and other
POSH On-On nonsense. Next week’s hares should learn from this fatal administrative stuff-up.
Your Hash Journo