One Plucked Pheasant & a General de Bawl at Mona Vale
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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.
Those of you who occaisionally read this weekly bilge will be forgiven for thinking that they have read these opening lines before. Indeed you have, a mere 3 weeks ago for Frenchie and Calici’s washed out run in Lane Cove.
So the old adage that “those who do not learn from history are condemned to repeating it”, is 100% applicable to this run. There must be something about the sea breeze of Northern Beaches that addles the brain to the point where commonsense takes leave of the hashing cranium, and to the detriment of their Monday night hashing mates.
It’s a good stretch to drive out to Mona Vale from the city or the surrounding inner suburbs, so we all made the pilgimage in high hopes that something different would be turned on for the evening…like a romp across Mona Vale Golf Course and/or along one of the nearby beaches or …..something that would at least mark this run apart from the standard suburban jaunts yet to come over the next 3.5 months. So what did we get dished up with?
Absolutely Sweet Nothing. Actually I’ll come clean…Almost nothing! You see the light coastal showers as clearly forecoast for the previous 24 hours was utterly ignored by our old time (dare I say senile) hares, and from the first 20 metres into the run there were virtually no arrows that could be found, other than under the occasional tree canopy or set vertically on a rock. The rest had been washed out by those forecast coastal showers. How easy would it have been to use surveyors chalk and big dobs of flour!
We headed out through an ‘exotic’ industrial waste land. XXXX was found a mere 100 metres from the start as lost as Little Bo Peep who had lost her sheep.. He had been told where the trail was meant to go, but was stuck the wrong side of a 2.4 metre high chain mesh fence in the outstandingly beautiful industrial estate and not an arrow to be found. He wasn’t the only one. In fact the whole bloody pack was in the same predicament.
Luckily our stand in TM, Payling, was the man of the night. He was good enough to make this a virtual live hare run. And so we transited from a bland industrial estate to ubiquitous suburban streets at night.
Mind you, some of the houses were highly desirable real estate and one wonders why more hashmen don’t live along the northern beaches. But one does, and loves it. Spud.
Thus we had two live hares. One who was herding the lost sheep from the back of the pack clutching a soggy map, and the other who guessed at the lowest common denominator where this sublime and suburban run might lead us. And thus we followed our way around several utterly anonymous looking streets. One of them being along the backside of Bayview Golf Course (Cabbage Tree Road) which became Samuel Street, which in turn brought us out onto deafening traffic noise of Mona Vale Road.
Every hashman’s nightmare! From there every right minded hashman knew that it was only a short romp back along Bungan Street back to the bucket at the basement car park level of Coles supermarket for some noise respite and a little refreshment.
It was a pleasure to be joined for the night by Coupla Weeks’ two sons: Andrew and James, nephew Richard and grandson William, who has now been renamed as Coupla Days. What a little champion this lad is. Only 8 or 9 years of age he quickly had the measure of most of us and was able to outpace just about anyone, with rapid sprints to make us feel even more aged and decrepid. Throughout the run the Jessup company was an absolute joy, just as their Dad (uncle and grandfather) had always been.
The On-On next door at the Mona Vale Hotel was decidedly up-market for us impoverished hashing wallas. Steaks at $32-00 a pop was the first horror shock, although there was a supposedly generous $10-00 discount for Monday night. It was cold comfort for some, like Scud, who understandably spat the dummy at the slow service and high prices and went home for a hot shower and a home cooked meal.
Those who stayed on had to raid their Super funds to pay for the exorbitantly priced beer. A light beer and a schooner of James Squire came to a whopping $12. Pleeeeease bring back the restaurants where we can bring our own wine and beers!!!!!
Andrew Jessup was awarded with one of Last Card’s “carded” and collared T shirts (you know that tasteless pale blue number; the one that only a few select hashmen dare to wear in the dead of night for fear of being seen as utterly out of date and a total dork by the general public). Doubtless it will be a high fashion accessory back in France where he lives with his champion little son, Coupla Days.
Apart from the run drubbing, most who turned up enjoyed the evening and our usual camaraderie and so the POSH hash lives on.
Although next week’s On-On is in another hotel, the food prices will be very affordable, especially as a Senior’s card will be accepted for special tucker food discounts. And please give another warm welcome to all the Jessup family who are likely to attend.
Thereafter all hares are urged in the most strenuous terms to arrange their On-On’s at a restaurant or suitable location where we can bring our own beers and wines and eat handsomely for the standard fixed
price of $25-00 per head
Your Hash Journo