Run 2323 – 9th Jan 2012 – Sydney Hash House Harriers

MEMORABLE MOMENTS

THE BUSH BASHING SCRAMBLE AT MT KURING-GAI

After the incredible down pour on Sunday, half of the Run was completely washed out. Fortunately the other half was still intact so the Two Mariners didn’t have to set sail and reset the Trail on the Monday. But just went with the Half that was still intact.

This was not generally known by the Runners, the Walkers and the Sloggers who mostly came back within the hour congratulating themself on how Pilko, approaching Three Score Years and Ten, had mellowed. Of course the passing of the years has dimmed the memories and thinned the ranks of the forlorn survivors of the Infamous Galston Gorge Massacres of the eighties. Most are now in Nursing Homes or sheltered workshops still recovering from nightmares associated with those notorious evenings. Some of course never returned. There was talk at the time of setting up a plaque at The Gorge to their memory but it was thought that would just encourage him to set a Commemorative Run there later on the Anniversary.

With the prospect of Pilko putting on a turn to celebrate his birthday and another “Spud” evening, understandably the Pack only approached a modest forty on the evening. A good dozen came by train just in case Pilko had a wash-away planned to go with the Spuds.

So promptly at 6.30pm they set off, unaware of the Past more concerned with the leeches and the ticks to be encountered on the way. They need not have worried, no self-respecting leech would hang around or climb onto heaps of scattered timber strewn around. It was not an over demanding Run, following a circular pattern with a dam which had thankfully emptied itself and a abseiling section to keep the interest going. And to finish, a set of wood inlaid steps which led to who knows where other than.. The Bucket.

To make up for the absence of a Curry to quicken the pulse and the bowels the following morning, the highlight of the On On was Captain Fizz orchestrating a crowd scene with the help of the Hash for his production of King ‘Leer” at the Redfern RSL. No doubt inspired by the recent weather, he was most impressive throwing his arms about shouting “Blow, winds and crack your cheeks ! Rage ! Blow!” Forgetting he is casted in the role of Fool not King Lear. Fortunately for all present, the full moon continued to shine……

AND THERE IS MORE

I COMPLETELY DISASSOCIATED MYSELF FROM THE FOLLOWING ARTICLE, I WAS ON THE FIDDLE NOT THE BANJO

“I’M JUST A SONG AND DANCE MAN…………”

Just when we were thankful that Christmas was at last over. Just when we could quietly tip all those ghastly ties and tasteless coloured under- pants into the garbage bin, we get hit with the “Festering of Sydney”. A drink and drug induced period in the Domain when the homeless and the hopeless are allowed to lie around all night and most of the day, snoring, vomiting and defecating freely all over the place.

In previous years, a series of Acts were hired to bang away, whilst street musicians moved through the throng, picking pockets and playing tuneless popular songs. However times are hard for the pavement artists and the assorted amateurish musicians. Passers-by are meaner than usual. Snotty nosed little kids are not adverse to dropping fresh dog turds into your cloth cap instead of the odd coin, so I’m told.

“The tunnel at Central Railway, is not what it used to be,” said Gone Slow, when interviewed by the Gosford Greyhound Gazette. That said, it was understandably with a great deal of apprehension, he answered the call from the depths of obscurity. To return to the Banjo business just for the Sydney Festival. He was to be dressed as a strolling troubadour from the Middle Ages. Jeremiah Juniper no less.

As the Festival was working with a tight budget, having blown most of it stupidly on the fireworks, Gone Slow had to provide his own costume, which was undoubtedly to be unique. When I saw him strumming away in the crowd, his shoulder length hair had been taken from a floor mop, tastefully embellished with blonde streaks. However, the straggly beard was all his own. He had a very large colourful bath towel casually thrown over his shoulders, which on close examination had the words “Imperial Hotel, Delhi, India” in one corner. The rest of his assemble was somewhat unfortunate. With black the predominate colour, the full length body skin tights were a size too small. A few minor splits had to be sprayed over with black paint each night. The area around the buttocks looked decidedly odd and the liberally applied black paint made walking difficult. To complete this outlandish get up, and in keeping with the period, he wore an over large silver Cod Piece. It was actually a silver spray-painted wicket keeper’s box on which were colourfully stuck, “hundreds and thousands” left over from a Woman’s Weekly cake recipe.

That assemble. The hideous racket he made playing discordantly on the banjo accompanied by his raucous singing, certainly made him a stand out with a very appreciative crowd. Unfortunately for other members of the Hash who went along later in the week to see him perform, he had been suspended. One night, after having had far too much to drink, he switched from a Medieval cantata to off-colour songs he had learnt whilst in Hong Kong. One dirty ditty had a pronounced Chinese flavour. Something about “doing it sideways”. This clearly upset a predominately Asian section of the crowd, putting an entirely wrong slant on the Festive occasion. He was led away to deafening applause from a rapturous audience, who clearly preferred him to the lot on stage.

His costume just didn’t manage to hang together after the rough handling in this series of misadventures, so he quietly picked up his banjo and stole away into the night. One must ask, will we ever see his like again ?

After speaking to the Festival organisers, it seems that we are unlikely to see or hear a repeat performance from Jeremiah Juniper in The Sydney Festival of 2013.