I arrived in Tokyo on Tuesday with that `illin feeling. Checking into my capsule hotel, I made it about a day before coming down with a full blown case of Montezuma's revenge. Would I let that stop me from missing the Tokyo Hash House Harriers trail? Nope!
After taking an hour to figure out the train system (most of everything isn't even subtitled in English), I arrived at the trail start with a good hour to kill before the listed start time. I took the opportunity to pop into a small noodle shop near the station exit and have some 'authentic' Japanese noodles & pork. I probably shouldn't be that impressed with something so standard here, but I am. Especially since I had to order by pointing at some Japanese characters on the menu next to a price. Not even a picture to go by!
After the meal I started looking for hashers... looking... looking... I ran into one hasher, visiting from Paris. I think his name was Wa Wa Wee (though I could be confusing that with the TV thing Wa Wa Wheee! in the Philippines as his name made me make an immediate connection). Neither of us could find any other hashers after scouring quite a large area by the exit of the station. Then, about 5 minutes to three, another hasher appeared. This time a Tokyo hasher who told us to start looking for arrows pointing towards trail start.
Cool, here's one!
We made it about 50 feet when we run into the hares. It turns out that trail was supposed to start at 7:15 p.m. They changed trail time but didn't update the website.
I spend the next few hours downtown in Ginza, walking around the streets and checking out a Nissan showroom. Even got to sit in the new GTR, roughly a 90k car, yum.
Returned to trail start around 6:30, following arrows this time to start location and ran into PeeWee who walked with me to start and introduced me to other hashers with names like Iku Iku (Japanese for I'm Cumming), Toto (a guy, not the harriette I met in Kiev), the hares Spud Poker and Tidy Whitey and others like Uranus, Khumming Rouge, King Cock, and more.
During trail I also ran into the illustrious Joystick, whom I first met at the Prague weekend and then again during the Munich Oktobeerfest hash. Small world eh? He is the third hasher that I've met multiple times without knowing he would be there. The others were Crazy German (now with the official Subic Bay name of Schindler's Butt Boy) and Copenhagen's own Swamp Thing.
Trail itself was a solid 8k through the backstreets of the Shinagawa district of Tokyo. Using the twisty, windy streets and a large number of both checks and back-checks, Spud was able to keep the pack together for a fairly large amount of the time. It was definitely chilly (the coldest I've seen on trail since Switzerland), but by using my bandana to keep my ears warm and keeping up a good running pace, I was able to ward off the cold until the On-In. We did a quick toast to the hares and then went into the restaurant we first met at to hold circle. Beer and food came in plenty and we ate and drank ourselves silly while having a riot of a time. The energy in the room was so infective that by the time we were halfway through circle, the other two full tables (we were in a group room with 2 other groups) started clapping along to our songs and down-downs.
Loads of fun, only interrupted when I had to make a quick and extended bathroom run (see first paragraph).
Today I was going to go to the Akamura district (electronics heaven), but ended up spending the entire day at the capsule hotel just recovering.
Tomorrow is New Year's Eve and the Tokyo Hash House Harriettes trail. Should prove to be fun if the TH3 was any indication!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Fucking Old Santa
Monday, December 22, was the Subic Bay H3's own Santa trail. Much like the Angeles City H3's one the day prior, but a tad better organized. Most people had candy and for the ones who forgot to bring their own, or didn't know about the theme of the trail, they had candy for sale at the start.
The theme itself was giving. Let's give these kids a start on a merry X-mas and toss them candy while running through their neighborhoods.
Guess what else starts with the letter "G" ladies and gentlemen? Nope, not Gispert, but greed.
Holy fuck, it was like throwing raw meat into a sea of hungry sharks. Total feeding frenzy and sharing wasn't part of the programming.
It was a double edged sword in a lot of ways. I thoroughly enjoyed giving out candy to kids who are truly in need (squalor conditions in a lot of the places we went through), but when I had kids walking up to me for the umpteenth time on trail with candy overflowing out of their pockets or their shirts bundled up like kangaroo pouches saying, "give me more candy!" it really stung the spirit.
What was worse were the adults. You'd walk up to a little girl or boy and hand them a piece of candy with a "Merry Christmas!" attached and out of no where you'd see their parent or grandparent walk up with their hand out asking, "What about me?"
Fuck off, this is for the kids.
There was a kind of second dawn though as trail moved further and further from the start. You could tell which kids were following along stuffing anything into their pockets and you told them to go away so you could give candy to new kids. I also started to just hand out candy person-by-person. As the bag got lower, it went to kids who were too shy to ask for candy or too busy playing down a side alley to even notice the hashers were there. I think those are the ones who really enjoyed the sweets and I felt really good about seeing the smiles on their faces when out of the blue a few pieces of candy would drop from the sky in front of them.
Honestly, I had it easy though. Fucking Old Man donned a full fledged Santa outfit and trailed with an entourage of red hatted harriets to toss out candy to the massing kids. There were times when you'd be afraid he was going to get bowled over and torn apart by the youngins looking for more sweets.
Moment of the trail though has to go to fellow Las Vegas hasher Special Ed.
There was one kid who continually followed him for most of the trail asking for candy. As he grabbed more and more he started to form a pouch with his shirt. SpEd called him his 'little kangaroo.'
Finally, at the third drink stop, SpEd was running low on candy. There were a bunch of new children around him clamboring for treats and here comes the little kangaroo, pouch stuffed full, asking for more.
So SpEd goes to hand out a candy to kangaroo kid and when he reaches out for it, SpEd gives a quick tug on the top of the kids shirt and a ton of candy spills to the ground. SpEd quickly yells out to all the newer kids without candy, "Look! CANDY!" and in a flash greedy kangaroo kid lost his horde.
AWESOME.
Well, after trail we all gathered in Johannsan's Bar & Grill for circle and dinner. Fucking Old Man as Santa had some of the hashers children sit on his lap, then some of the harriets sit on his lap (Lucking Old Man). Charges were given, down-downs were drunk. I got to meet up with Swamp Thing one more time before he leaves to Phuket, Thailand and I move on to Japan (hopefully).
Lollipop Hemmrrhoid kept things moving quickly and pricisely as only a Chicago native can. The ice was used, the standard Ice Checks (from last Subic Hash post) continued unabated.
I think I've only got one more chance to hang out with these fine buggers, and if what I've been told is true, next weeks trail will be a doozy.
I guess the biggest bonus about hashing more than once with a chapter is that by time two or three, I can start remembering names along with the faces. Personal favorite of this evening was Kentucky Fried Fuckhead.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, so it may be a span before I get to post again. If anyone knows where I can get a cheap flight to Japan (in the $300-50 range), please let me know!
Update on Cebu Pacific debacle:
Through the graces of spending a day in Manila, I was able to finally walk up to a ticket desk and cancel the flight. The downside is a $25 processing fee that I'll have to swallow, but I'm just glad to get it over with. For what it's worth though, they can still suck a salty left nut. That's my warning to any hashers going to Borneo for 2010 Interhash. I'm just saying.
The theme itself was giving. Let's give these kids a start on a merry X-mas and toss them candy while running through their neighborhoods.
Guess what else starts with the letter "G" ladies and gentlemen? Nope, not Gispert, but greed.
Holy fuck, it was like throwing raw meat into a sea of hungry sharks. Total feeding frenzy and sharing wasn't part of the programming.
It was a double edged sword in a lot of ways. I thoroughly enjoyed giving out candy to kids who are truly in need (squalor conditions in a lot of the places we went through), but when I had kids walking up to me for the umpteenth time on trail with candy overflowing out of their pockets or their shirts bundled up like kangaroo pouches saying, "give me more candy!" it really stung the spirit.
What was worse were the adults. You'd walk up to a little girl or boy and hand them a piece of candy with a "Merry Christmas!" attached and out of no where you'd see their parent or grandparent walk up with their hand out asking, "What about me?"
Fuck off, this is for the kids.
There was a kind of second dawn though as trail moved further and further from the start. You could tell which kids were following along stuffing anything into their pockets and you told them to go away so you could give candy to new kids. I also started to just hand out candy person-by-person. As the bag got lower, it went to kids who were too shy to ask for candy or too busy playing down a side alley to even notice the hashers were there. I think those are the ones who really enjoyed the sweets and I felt really good about seeing the smiles on their faces when out of the blue a few pieces of candy would drop from the sky in front of them.
Honestly, I had it easy though. Fucking Old Man donned a full fledged Santa outfit and trailed with an entourage of red hatted harriets to toss out candy to the massing kids. There were times when you'd be afraid he was going to get bowled over and torn apart by the youngins looking for more sweets.
Moment of the trail though has to go to fellow Las Vegas hasher Special Ed.
There was one kid who continually followed him for most of the trail asking for candy. As he grabbed more and more he started to form a pouch with his shirt. SpEd called him his 'little kangaroo.'
Finally, at the third drink stop, SpEd was running low on candy. There were a bunch of new children around him clamboring for treats and here comes the little kangaroo, pouch stuffed full, asking for more.
So SpEd goes to hand out a candy to kangaroo kid and when he reaches out for it, SpEd gives a quick tug on the top of the kids shirt and a ton of candy spills to the ground. SpEd quickly yells out to all the newer kids without candy, "Look! CANDY!" and in a flash greedy kangaroo kid lost his horde.
AWESOME.
Well, after trail we all gathered in Johannsan's Bar & Grill for circle and dinner. Fucking Old Man as Santa had some of the hashers children sit on his lap, then some of the harriets sit on his lap (Lucking Old Man). Charges were given, down-downs were drunk. I got to meet up with Swamp Thing one more time before he leaves to Phuket, Thailand and I move on to Japan (hopefully).
Lollipop Hemmrrhoid kept things moving quickly and pricisely as only a Chicago native can. The ice was used, the standard Ice Checks (from last Subic Hash post) continued unabated.
I think I've only got one more chance to hang out with these fine buggers, and if what I've been told is true, next weeks trail will be a doozy.
I guess the biggest bonus about hashing more than once with a chapter is that by time two or three, I can start remembering names along with the faces. Personal favorite of this evening was Kentucky Fried Fuckhead.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, so it may be a span before I get to post again. If anyone knows where I can get a cheap flight to Japan (in the $300-50 range), please let me know!
Update on Cebu Pacific debacle:
Through the graces of spending a day in Manila, I was able to finally walk up to a ticket desk and cancel the flight. The downside is a $25 processing fee that I'll have to swallow, but I'm just glad to get it over with. For what it's worth though, they can still suck a salty left nut. That's my warning to any hashers going to Borneo for 2010 Interhash. I'm just saying.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Lost in Angeles
Yesterday marked my second Philippine hash with the Angeles City H3. With a goofy caribou as their mascot and the Anchorage as their official home, I have heard a lot of promise about how grand these chaps are.
Well, yes and no. I have a feeling that the trail I was on yesterday is not the typical for these hardcore hashers.
If you haven't been paying attention to the calendar lately, it's nearing Christmas. The Philippine Islands are absolutely HUGE on the holiday, celebrating it for the length of time usually relegated to department stores in the U.S. This being the case, most of the hashes out here are holding Santa-style trails where they travel through the local neighborhoods and toss candy out to the kids.
Angeles City H3 held just such a trail, but somewhere along the lines of the idea, not everyone knew what was going on. So it turned into a fairly flat, street trail with a lot of walking and only about five people were throwing candy. I had no idea this was going on, so I showed up with nothing to give to the kids. It was trail only for me.
That being said, trail wasn't really laid for visitors. There was a runner/walker split, but the runner trail had zero markings (save for a couple from trails past that hadn't washed away yet). So, about a third of the way through the runners trail, I ended up having to find a group of local hashers to figure out trail with. It was all a bit off unfortunately and hopefully (assuming) I can attend one more of their hashes before moving onward, I will have a vastly different experience.
On the other hand, circle was quite fun. For a bunch of crusty 'ol men (I mean that in the most light-hearted of ways), they cornered the market on the dry British style of witty humour and kept the pack's eyes glued to the center. All without the use of ice that I've become so familiar with around Southeast Asia.
Outside of being a visitor and 1 (count it... ONE!) broken bottle, I kept fairly low key compared to lately except for one glaring exception.
During the singing of "Royal Brittania" I outvoiced (for better or worse) all participants, then got called in for being the damn typical Yank (with the same light-heartedness I mentioned earlier).
I took my down-down with pride and after they closed circle a little bit later, we all went into the Anchorage to chow down on a grand meal that a birdie told me was paid for by one Titanic Dickhead. Hey, what a great guy feeding the hash, kind of a little early X-mas gift for the Angeles City H3.
Other things of note, I got to run into some traveling hashers from Copenhagen, Swamp Thing and Thunderpiss. The original "black dick" brothers, named so because they like to go to certain places and do certain things until their foreskins go black and fall off (was that crude?).
That's the 4th time I've run into Swamp Thing, the first being in Copenhagen returning their mascot Kylie to the CH3 and again in Sukothai, Thailand for Mekong Indochina 2008 and the third stop being in Hong Kong at their Santa Hash.
May traveling hashers unite!
Well, yes and no. I have a feeling that the trail I was on yesterday is not the typical for these hardcore hashers.
If you haven't been paying attention to the calendar lately, it's nearing Christmas. The Philippine Islands are absolutely HUGE on the holiday, celebrating it for the length of time usually relegated to department stores in the U.S. This being the case, most of the hashes out here are holding Santa-style trails where they travel through the local neighborhoods and toss candy out to the kids.
Angeles City H3 held just such a trail, but somewhere along the lines of the idea, not everyone knew what was going on. So it turned into a fairly flat, street trail with a lot of walking and only about five people were throwing candy. I had no idea this was going on, so I showed up with nothing to give to the kids. It was trail only for me.
That being said, trail wasn't really laid for visitors. There was a runner/walker split, but the runner trail had zero markings (save for a couple from trails past that hadn't washed away yet). So, about a third of the way through the runners trail, I ended up having to find a group of local hashers to figure out trail with. It was all a bit off unfortunately and hopefully (assuming) I can attend one more of their hashes before moving onward, I will have a vastly different experience.
On the other hand, circle was quite fun. For a bunch of crusty 'ol men (I mean that in the most light-hearted of ways), they cornered the market on the dry British style of witty humour and kept the pack's eyes glued to the center. All without the use of ice that I've become so familiar with around Southeast Asia.
Outside of being a visitor and 1 (count it... ONE!) broken bottle, I kept fairly low key compared to lately except for one glaring exception.
During the singing of "Royal Brittania" I outvoiced (for better or worse) all participants, then got called in for being the damn typical Yank (with the same light-heartedness I mentioned earlier).
I took my down-down with pride and after they closed circle a little bit later, we all went into the Anchorage to chow down on a grand meal that a birdie told me was paid for by one Titanic Dickhead. Hey, what a great guy feeding the hash, kind of a little early X-mas gift for the Angeles City H3.
Other things of note, I got to run into some traveling hashers from Copenhagen, Swamp Thing and Thunderpiss. The original "black dick" brothers, named so because they like to go to certain places and do certain things until their foreskins go black and fall off (was that crude?).
That's the 4th time I've run into Swamp Thing, the first being in Copenhagen returning their mascot Kylie to the CH3 and again in Sukothai, Thailand for Mekong Indochina 2008 and the third stop being in Hong Kong at their Santa Hash.
May traveling hashers unite!
Friday, December 19, 2008
From the Cradle to the Grave
This post has two parts. The first is me talking about the shitty airline (Cebu Pacific) that I took a flight over from Hong Kong to Philippines on.
If you would rather not read about me bitching and moaning, skip to part 2 and read about my first hash in the Philippines with Subic Bay H3!
So I have my ticket to Clark Airport, which is near Subic Bay, Philippines. I booked it online in Macau. No problem, right? Wrong!
I arrive at the airport. There's roughly an hour fifteen before the flight leaves. I get to the check in desk and it is overrun with passengers for the flight after mine. Apparently Cebu Pacific decided that they would start taking in all passengers for all flights at the same desk at the same time. I wait for twenty minutes before one guy who works the desk asks which flight I am on, and tells me to jump to the front of the line. Here I thought everyone was on the same flight as I was and they were just backed up...
Then, I get to the check-in counter and they tell me that I can't board the plane without a return flight. Well, I don't want to go back to Hong Kong. They tell me I need printed proof of a return ticket or I won't get past immigration in Philippines. I said I don't, I have an American passport and I'm good for a 21 day visa upon arrival.
They refuse to give me my boarding pass, send me to the other side of the check-in building to buy a return ticket. Ok, fine you bastards. I'll buy the ticket and cancel it for a refund when I get there.
Not so simple.
It seems that I need to cancel the ticket in Manila, which is a four hour drive from where I'm staying in Philippines. This is complete bullshit.
I now have a $210 charge on my credit card for a ticket I don't want and am pretty sure I don't need.
I sprint for the terminal, speed through security (fortunately it's lax since I'm in Asia) and get to the plane 5 minutes before take-off. There are still 6 people behind me who are going through whatever bullshit Cebu Pacific put them through (this includes one German guy who has a ticket to someplace else but Cebu tells him he needs a return flight).
The airplane is dirty. Floss pik on the floor under my seat, someone's cracker crumbs and what looks like grated cheese on the seat next to mine... Then in the middle of the flight they announce a Christmas carol contest.
I want to stab people.
The plane arrives, of course I don't need any printed proof of a return flight. They lied to me and forced me to buy a ticket I didn't need and will have a difficult time getting a refund on.
I call my bank to stop the charge, they can't file dispute until the charge goes though, just effin' great...
I get online to Cebu's website, I try to cancel the flight for refund, I can't because the ticket wasn't purchased online. I call the airline number on the website, they won't cancel the flight because I bought it in the terminal.
I ask for the phone number to the place I need to cancel it at in Manila (to see if I can do it over the phone) and the line drops on their side.
I call back and the line drops again half-way through getting the phone number.
So now I'm stuck with an over $200 charge on my card and very little recourse in fixing the problem save wait until the charge is filed on my CC statement (it's currently pending) and then file a dispute with Bank of America to try and get my money back.
Not happy.
Ok, on to PART TWO
I arrive in Clark airport and get picked up by Special Ed, we go to his place in Barrio Barretto (sp?), drop my bags, I change and we jet to the hash which starts every week at a bar roughly 5 minutes from his place. Introductions are made, I purchase a couple patches and order a beer. I'm the youngest guy by far, but as I've mentioned before the hash is ageless.
We all (roughly 25) jump in the back of a large pick-up style truck and get lifted to the start somewhere down the way (I haven't figured out direction in this place yet).
When we do take off, it's straight up a hill and through a squatters backyard. We crest on the ridge and do a straight shot along the ridgeline before dropping down to the top of a cemetery.
Now, let me tell you something about cemetery's in the Philippines. They are above ground tombs that are randomly clustered on a hillside. There are walls separating the tombs (sometimes) and the occasional path snaking down. These paths are not for certain and do not lead to every tomb. There is nothing in the way of sense of order or design, they just throw them up as they go along.
So we're hashing down this cemetery and at points all you can do is hop from wall to tomb to ground to tomb, etc.
I'm doing my little free-running bit, really enjoying the exercise of finding the right spot to land and picking where to go next. I'm a touch off trail, but Special Ed is with me and we're heading in the right general direction (we're also hardcore FRB's at this point).
That's when it happens. I'm jumping from the top of one tomb to the next and when I land the portion directly under my feet caves in and I fall in up to my waist with a loud, "Ow."
I pull myself out, SpEd's taking a picture of my debacle while saying, "See, that's why I was staying on the walls. I understand the quality level of workmanship in the Philippines."
Oh, thanks for telling me that NOW!
I am understandably cautious and find the remaining descent from the cemetary to be a bit more precarious. We finally get to the bottom and trail moves down past a lighthouse and along the beach.
When trail was set, the water was at low tide, it's now rising and we begin to reach points where you can no longer follow trail while keeping your shoes dry. It goes along the beach for a good long while, following the coastline before jumping back up to the main road and then cutting over to the On-In, Arizona Bar & Grill.
While waiting for the majority of pack to arrive, I clean off my bloody leg (crashing through poor concrete tends to do a number on the shins) and bandage it before grabbing a beer. It was a good 9k or so trail and given the rampant zombie attack, I can say my arrival to Philippines hashing was a success!
Circle of course consisted of a return to block ice and some great tales from the trail. GM Roadwhore did a splendid job punishing rank offenders while Lollipop Hemorrhoid kept private conversation in the small group to a minimum. With Cujo at the singing helm (including a number of numbers I've never heard before!), circle was great.
The major difference here is the ice check. Keeping in mind that hashers here tend to be older with much younger Philippine girlfriends, they tend to celebrate this fact.
After a down-down is given on the ice (and particulary for the females), when the person gets up, their significant other will lick the ice block those bare behinds have been on.
Being without attachment, I was spared participation in this event.
Now, during circle they have a raffle. People can bring in small items of whatever value and then purchase raffle tickets for a fairly cheap price before circle. These are then raffled off with the money going to the hash. The items aren't typically much, but there is a coveted tequila shot prize, where one of the bar girls puts lime on one nipple and then salt on the other. I think you can figure out the rest of that sequence.
This time another girl won that prize, which made for a very intriguing spectacle of girl on girl nipple sucking which for all accounts was pretty damn cool.
On-On PI
If you would rather not read about me bitching and moaning, skip to part 2 and read about my first hash in the Philippines with Subic Bay H3!
So I have my ticket to Clark Airport, which is near Subic Bay, Philippines. I booked it online in Macau. No problem, right? Wrong!
I arrive at the airport. There's roughly an hour fifteen before the flight leaves. I get to the check in desk and it is overrun with passengers for the flight after mine. Apparently Cebu Pacific decided that they would start taking in all passengers for all flights at the same desk at the same time. I wait for twenty minutes before one guy who works the desk asks which flight I am on, and tells me to jump to the front of the line. Here I thought everyone was on the same flight as I was and they were just backed up...
Then, I get to the check-in counter and they tell me that I can't board the plane without a return flight. Well, I don't want to go back to Hong Kong. They tell me I need printed proof of a return ticket or I won't get past immigration in Philippines. I said I don't, I have an American passport and I'm good for a 21 day visa upon arrival.
They refuse to give me my boarding pass, send me to the other side of the check-in building to buy a return ticket. Ok, fine you bastards. I'll buy the ticket and cancel it for a refund when I get there.
Not so simple.
It seems that I need to cancel the ticket in Manila, which is a four hour drive from where I'm staying in Philippines. This is complete bullshit.
I now have a $210 charge on my credit card for a ticket I don't want and am pretty sure I don't need.
I sprint for the terminal, speed through security (fortunately it's lax since I'm in Asia) and get to the plane 5 minutes before take-off. There are still 6 people behind me who are going through whatever bullshit Cebu Pacific put them through (this includes one German guy who has a ticket to someplace else but Cebu tells him he needs a return flight).
The airplane is dirty. Floss pik on the floor under my seat, someone's cracker crumbs and what looks like grated cheese on the seat next to mine... Then in the middle of the flight they announce a Christmas carol contest.
I want to stab people.
The plane arrives, of course I don't need any printed proof of a return flight. They lied to me and forced me to buy a ticket I didn't need and will have a difficult time getting a refund on.
I call my bank to stop the charge, they can't file dispute until the charge goes though, just effin' great...
I get online to Cebu's website, I try to cancel the flight for refund, I can't because the ticket wasn't purchased online. I call the airline number on the website, they won't cancel the flight because I bought it in the terminal.
I ask for the phone number to the place I need to cancel it at in Manila (to see if I can do it over the phone) and the line drops on their side.
I call back and the line drops again half-way through getting the phone number.
So now I'm stuck with an over $200 charge on my card and very little recourse in fixing the problem save wait until the charge is filed on my CC statement (it's currently pending) and then file a dispute with Bank of America to try and get my money back.
Not happy.
Ok, on to PART TWO
I arrive in Clark airport and get picked up by Special Ed, we go to his place in Barrio Barretto (sp?), drop my bags, I change and we jet to the hash which starts every week at a bar roughly 5 minutes from his place. Introductions are made, I purchase a couple patches and order a beer. I'm the youngest guy by far, but as I've mentioned before the hash is ageless.
We all (roughly 25) jump in the back of a large pick-up style truck and get lifted to the start somewhere down the way (I haven't figured out direction in this place yet).
When we do take off, it's straight up a hill and through a squatters backyard. We crest on the ridge and do a straight shot along the ridgeline before dropping down to the top of a cemetery.
Now, let me tell you something about cemetery's in the Philippines. They are above ground tombs that are randomly clustered on a hillside. There are walls separating the tombs (sometimes) and the occasional path snaking down. These paths are not for certain and do not lead to every tomb. There is nothing in the way of sense of order or design, they just throw them up as they go along.
So we're hashing down this cemetery and at points all you can do is hop from wall to tomb to ground to tomb, etc.
I'm doing my little free-running bit, really enjoying the exercise of finding the right spot to land and picking where to go next. I'm a touch off trail, but Special Ed is with me and we're heading in the right general direction (we're also hardcore FRB's at this point).
That's when it happens. I'm jumping from the top of one tomb to the next and when I land the portion directly under my feet caves in and I fall in up to my waist with a loud, "Ow."
I pull myself out, SpEd's taking a picture of my debacle while saying, "See, that's why I was staying on the walls. I understand the quality level of workmanship in the Philippines."
Oh, thanks for telling me that NOW!
I am understandably cautious and find the remaining descent from the cemetary to be a bit more precarious. We finally get to the bottom and trail moves down past a lighthouse and along the beach.
When trail was set, the water was at low tide, it's now rising and we begin to reach points where you can no longer follow trail while keeping your shoes dry. It goes along the beach for a good long while, following the coastline before jumping back up to the main road and then cutting over to the On-In, Arizona Bar & Grill.
While waiting for the majority of pack to arrive, I clean off my bloody leg (crashing through poor concrete tends to do a number on the shins) and bandage it before grabbing a beer. It was a good 9k or so trail and given the rampant zombie attack, I can say my arrival to Philippines hashing was a success!
Circle of course consisted of a return to block ice and some great tales from the trail. GM Roadwhore did a splendid job punishing rank offenders while Lollipop Hemorrhoid kept private conversation in the small group to a minimum. With Cujo at the singing helm (including a number of numbers I've never heard before!), circle was great.
The major difference here is the ice check. Keeping in mind that hashers here tend to be older with much younger Philippine girlfriends, they tend to celebrate this fact.
After a down-down is given on the ice (and particulary for the females), when the person gets up, their significant other will lick the ice block those bare behinds have been on.
Being without attachment, I was spared participation in this event.
Now, during circle they have a raffle. People can bring in small items of whatever value and then purchase raffle tickets for a fairly cheap price before circle. These are then raffled off with the money going to the hash. The items aren't typically much, but there is a coveted tequila shot prize, where one of the bar girls puts lime on one nipple and then salt on the other. I think you can figure out the rest of that sequence.
This time another girl won that prize, which made for a very intriguing spectacle of girl on girl nipple sucking which for all accounts was pretty damn cool.
On-On PI
Thursday, December 18, 2008
On-On Macau, Sir Cunter! On-On Hong Kong!
A few years ago, a Las Vegas Hasher named Cunter Ass Thompson left the fair (sin) city for Macau in order to work for MGM and in the process get a bit of world experience under his belt.
Cunter as I've known him is a great guy and absolutely awesome hasher, so when my travels got me to Asia, I made a point to get up north towards Hong Kong and visit him in Macau.
Meanwhile, in Subic Bay, Philippines, another Vegas hasher by the name of Special Ed was taking a month-long break.
With such a close proximity of hashers, how could we not both travel up to Macau and visit Cunter, a reuniting of Las Vegas H3 half a world away!
I got to Macau a couple days before Special Ed did and spent the majority of the time (Cunter was at work) hiking around the fairly small island, going from casino to casino, going up Guia Hill to the lighthouse on the top.
The really neat thing about Macau is that much of the island is reclaimed land from the sea. They've built it up years at a time, taking dirt from nearby mountains and dropping it into the water, waiting for it to settle and repeating the process until there was enough solid land to build on. The hilarious result of this is that the lighthouse is now 1/3 of the way into the island, rendering its light a tad bit useless as the shoreline is now quite a ways from where it was when the lighthouse was built.
It still operates though, shining its bright warning into the rooms of high-rise apartment dwellers and corporate offices!
My first hash in this trifecta (you can hash every day of the week between Macau and Hong Kong) was with the Hong Kong Friday Night Hash. A baby of a hash with a monthly trail.
It was my first real introduction to Hong Kong stairs as well. Holy bleedin' robot in a hand basket, this thing was brutal! I suppose I shouldn't complain too much though, the trail itself was actually well laid out with F arrow marks, even if they were spaced a tad too far apart at times.
Starting at the Tin Hau Temple, we went up and up and up the city of Hong Kong. I can only imaging counting the steps we climbed, but didn't for fear of losing my sanity. It was hardcore brutal and I can only imagine the great shape my legs would be in (and the shitty shape my knees would be in) if I did that kind of thing every day.
Not that there wasn't a pay-off though. Once we got far enough up and out of the city we were on wonderful trails that ran alongside the surrounding hills. Barring any cresting or ridge-running, we were still extremely high up, high enough that you could look across the city of Hong Kong and if you had the eyes of an eagle (and the hairy ass of a crow), see into the top floors of any of their high-rises. Those steps were a lesson in the pleasures of pain.
The way down was much more gentle, until we came to more steps. Much like the ones on the way up, these bastards came in groups by the hundred and were sized for Asian feet. I had solid fear for misstepping in the darkness of night and rolling down several flights. It didn't happen, but it sure as hell crossed my mind!
Once on solid, flat ground again we worked out way around to the Yaht Club where we slipped into their shower room and cleaned off before rejoining out in the parking lot for down-downs and moving on to the On-After bar called the Englishman's Pub for frosty brews and a chance meeting with Melvis, the Chinese Elvis! Yes, photo-op!
Day two brought more hashing, only this time in the fine location of Taipa, an island ajoined to Macau via three long bridges. Taipa-Macau are pretty much the same place and don't distinguish themselves as separate from each other other than the island names.
The Taipa-Macau H3 is Cunter's home hash in the area and is smack dab full of fun.
Generally they use the same hills because the island is so small and hugely developed, so locals knew the place well, but as a visitor it was new and I was giddy to get going on trail.
Oh fuck, stairs.
I have a new found hatred for stairs.
Once we got past that initial obstacle, it was a short jaunt along a road until we entered a walking park of sorts near the top of the hill. I was doing quite well in everything but my knees. The concrete of Hong Kong the day prior combined with the incredibly immense amount of stairs had whalloped me. I slowed down and felt pretty unsure on a couple patches of downhill shiggy. Once I hit flat ground again I could continue running until the big long downhill road where my knees just weren't up to it.
The trail went past a large Chinese cemetery (a shame I don't have a trail specific camera) and wound its way back down to the stilted apartments fairly close to start.
As I was coming along the last bit of trail a hand pats my shoulder. It's Special Ed and he wanted me to tell everyone reading this blog that an AARP member caught up to me on trail.
Circle itself was full of fervor. With Cunter's help they've learned a lot of great hash songs and their GM (I'm just going to call her Robert Paulson for now) kept a pretty strict, but fun circle.
Oh, the Robert Paulson thing. She called me into circle, pointed to a hasher and asked me what his name was. I couldn't recall his hash name so I simply replied, "His name is Robert Paulson." (a quote from the movie Fight Club).
Boom, I was given a down-down.
She pointed at someone else whose name I couldn't remember, I replied, "His name is Robert Paulson."
Boom, another down-down.
Well two is absent-mindedness, three is a joke, so this time she pointed at Nancy Boy, a hasher whom I did remember the name and it was fairly well known. I responded, "His name is Robert Paulson."
Laughs ensued, another down-down.
She said, "Look, I'll make it easy for you. What's my name? (she had a hash style necklace on with her hash name on it.)
"Your name is Robert Paulson."
By now other hashers were joining in. It was pretty damn funny.
The down-side was we needed to leave early as Special Ed's flight back to the Philippines was scheduled for Saturday, Dec. 14th. (Get out your calendars boys and girls, look at that date a little closer and tell me what's wrong!)
Oh, by the way, don't ever fly Cebu Pacific Airlines. They operate like a cluster-fuck of people with a missing chromosome. I'll get into that next post though as I had my own issues with them going to the Philippines.
The third day of hashing with Cunter brought us back to Hong Kong for their annual Santa Hash. Here is an excerpt from their website www.santahash.com
"Each year all of the Hong Kong based Hash House Harrier clubs, or kennels, now numbering 12, organise a joint Hash to raise money for Operation Santa Claus organised by the South China Morning Post (SCMP) and Radio Television Hong Kong (RTHK)."
Trail this time started in a small park near Quarry Bay. It was a little less drastic than the previous days, but again those steps! We shot straight up and through what looked like someone's apartment building, squeezing into single file to fit into the narrow staircase. Once up we got onto one of the surrounding hillsides, enjoying amazing daytime views of the city and harbor as well as having some well trodden footpaths to run along. One of the coolest things we passed were some old WW2 kitchens that the Japanese had set-up but never used. Just row after row of brick and mortar ovens.
Things were looking familiar though and I figured out that we were hashing in the same area that trail was on Friday night! We spent more time up in the hills though and covered a wider distance overall.
The hare for Taipa-Macau (can't remember his name, if anyone reading knows I can edit it in later!) also hared for the Santa Hash and just did an excellent job in having a well marked and easily read trail with extremely clever spots for checks.
Coming into circle, it was a good 10k trail that felt more like 7. I have always felt that the sign of a well laid trail is that it feels shorter than it is. Bonus to the hare!
Circle itself was large and interspersed with a raffle, drawn out a bit. Especially since they took a while to get started. Since Special Ed's flight was coming close, him, Cunter and I had to jet early.
The poor caterer. A wonderful guy who saw we were leaving looked heartbroken and distraught that we wouldn't be able to enjoy his food (which he was just finishing setting up at the time).
We gave our apologies and he put together a little bit of a to-go meal for us which was extremely kind.
After dropping Special Ed off for his flight (for the second time...), Cunter and I went to a local Thai restaurant near the Irish Bar (official bar for the Taipa-Macau hash and a sponsor for all their shirts!), enjoyed some Tom Yum Fun soup and chatted a bit, playing catch up that was waylayed by the business of the week and hash. Post that I decided to play visitor and dropped a couple hundred Hong Kong dollars (roughly $20 U.S.) into a machine. The first one didn't pay off, but the second one pumped out almost 700HKD!
In typical tourist fashion though, I didn't pay out and the casino ate all my winnings. Hey, no heavy loss and I had a little bit of fun.
I must say, the casinos in Macau are a big step up from the ones in Las Vegas. They really cater to the high roller and wealthy visitor in terms of tables. Slots are really low key and the customers of the casino lack the "typical Las Vegas tourist" look and level of obnoxioiusness.
It was grand seeing you Cunter! Do try to make it back to Las Vegas again sometime soon!
Cunter as I've known him is a great guy and absolutely awesome hasher, so when my travels got me to Asia, I made a point to get up north towards Hong Kong and visit him in Macau.
Meanwhile, in Subic Bay, Philippines, another Vegas hasher by the name of Special Ed was taking a month-long break.
With such a close proximity of hashers, how could we not both travel up to Macau and visit Cunter, a reuniting of Las Vegas H3 half a world away!
I got to Macau a couple days before Special Ed did and spent the majority of the time (Cunter was at work) hiking around the fairly small island, going from casino to casino, going up Guia Hill to the lighthouse on the top.
The really neat thing about Macau is that much of the island is reclaimed land from the sea. They've built it up years at a time, taking dirt from nearby mountains and dropping it into the water, waiting for it to settle and repeating the process until there was enough solid land to build on. The hilarious result of this is that the lighthouse is now 1/3 of the way into the island, rendering its light a tad bit useless as the shoreline is now quite a ways from where it was when the lighthouse was built.
It still operates though, shining its bright warning into the rooms of high-rise apartment dwellers and corporate offices!
My first hash in this trifecta (you can hash every day of the week between Macau and Hong Kong) was with the Hong Kong Friday Night Hash. A baby of a hash with a monthly trail.
It was my first real introduction to Hong Kong stairs as well. Holy bleedin' robot in a hand basket, this thing was brutal! I suppose I shouldn't complain too much though, the trail itself was actually well laid out with F arrow marks, even if they were spaced a tad too far apart at times.
Starting at the Tin Hau Temple, we went up and up and up the city of Hong Kong. I can only imaging counting the steps we climbed, but didn't for fear of losing my sanity. It was hardcore brutal and I can only imagine the great shape my legs would be in (and the shitty shape my knees would be in) if I did that kind of thing every day.
Not that there wasn't a pay-off though. Once we got far enough up and out of the city we were on wonderful trails that ran alongside the surrounding hills. Barring any cresting or ridge-running, we were still extremely high up, high enough that you could look across the city of Hong Kong and if you had the eyes of an eagle (and the hairy ass of a crow), see into the top floors of any of their high-rises. Those steps were a lesson in the pleasures of pain.
The way down was much more gentle, until we came to more steps. Much like the ones on the way up, these bastards came in groups by the hundred and were sized for Asian feet. I had solid fear for misstepping in the darkness of night and rolling down several flights. It didn't happen, but it sure as hell crossed my mind!
Once on solid, flat ground again we worked out way around to the Yaht Club where we slipped into their shower room and cleaned off before rejoining out in the parking lot for down-downs and moving on to the On-After bar called the Englishman's Pub for frosty brews and a chance meeting with Melvis, the Chinese Elvis! Yes, photo-op!
Day two brought more hashing, only this time in the fine location of Taipa, an island ajoined to Macau via three long bridges. Taipa-Macau are pretty much the same place and don't distinguish themselves as separate from each other other than the island names.
The Taipa-Macau H3 is Cunter's home hash in the area and is smack dab full of fun.
Generally they use the same hills because the island is so small and hugely developed, so locals knew the place well, but as a visitor it was new and I was giddy to get going on trail.
Oh fuck, stairs.
I have a new found hatred for stairs.
Once we got past that initial obstacle, it was a short jaunt along a road until we entered a walking park of sorts near the top of the hill. I was doing quite well in everything but my knees. The concrete of Hong Kong the day prior combined with the incredibly immense amount of stairs had whalloped me. I slowed down and felt pretty unsure on a couple patches of downhill shiggy. Once I hit flat ground again I could continue running until the big long downhill road where my knees just weren't up to it.
The trail went past a large Chinese cemetery (a shame I don't have a trail specific camera) and wound its way back down to the stilted apartments fairly close to start.
As I was coming along the last bit of trail a hand pats my shoulder. It's Special Ed and he wanted me to tell everyone reading this blog that an AARP member caught up to me on trail.
Circle itself was full of fervor. With Cunter's help they've learned a lot of great hash songs and their GM (I'm just going to call her Robert Paulson for now) kept a pretty strict, but fun circle.
Oh, the Robert Paulson thing. She called me into circle, pointed to a hasher and asked me what his name was. I couldn't recall his hash name so I simply replied, "His name is Robert Paulson." (a quote from the movie Fight Club).
Boom, I was given a down-down.
She pointed at someone else whose name I couldn't remember, I replied, "His name is Robert Paulson."
Boom, another down-down.
Well two is absent-mindedness, three is a joke, so this time she pointed at Nancy Boy, a hasher whom I did remember the name and it was fairly well known. I responded, "His name is Robert Paulson."
Laughs ensued, another down-down.
She said, "Look, I'll make it easy for you. What's my name? (she had a hash style necklace on with her hash name on it.)
"Your name is Robert Paulson."
By now other hashers were joining in. It was pretty damn funny.
The down-side was we needed to leave early as Special Ed's flight back to the Philippines was scheduled for Saturday, Dec. 14th. (Get out your calendars boys and girls, look at that date a little closer and tell me what's wrong!)
Oh, by the way, don't ever fly Cebu Pacific Airlines. They operate like a cluster-fuck of people with a missing chromosome. I'll get into that next post though as I had my own issues with them going to the Philippines.
The third day of hashing with Cunter brought us back to Hong Kong for their annual Santa Hash. Here is an excerpt from their website www.santahash.com
"Each year all of the Hong Kong based Hash House Harrier clubs, or kennels, now numbering 12, organise a joint Hash to raise money for Operation Santa Claus organised by the South China Morning Post (SCMP) and Radio Television Hong Kong (RTHK)."
Trail this time started in a small park near Quarry Bay. It was a little less drastic than the previous days, but again those steps! We shot straight up and through what looked like someone's apartment building, squeezing into single file to fit into the narrow staircase. Once up we got onto one of the surrounding hillsides, enjoying amazing daytime views of the city and harbor as well as having some well trodden footpaths to run along. One of the coolest things we passed were some old WW2 kitchens that the Japanese had set-up but never used. Just row after row of brick and mortar ovens.
Things were looking familiar though and I figured out that we were hashing in the same area that trail was on Friday night! We spent more time up in the hills though and covered a wider distance overall.
The hare for Taipa-Macau (can't remember his name, if anyone reading knows I can edit it in later!) also hared for the Santa Hash and just did an excellent job in having a well marked and easily read trail with extremely clever spots for checks.
Coming into circle, it was a good 10k trail that felt more like 7. I have always felt that the sign of a well laid trail is that it feels shorter than it is. Bonus to the hare!
Circle itself was large and interspersed with a raffle, drawn out a bit. Especially since they took a while to get started. Since Special Ed's flight was coming close, him, Cunter and I had to jet early.
The poor caterer. A wonderful guy who saw we were leaving looked heartbroken and distraught that we wouldn't be able to enjoy his food (which he was just finishing setting up at the time).
We gave our apologies and he put together a little bit of a to-go meal for us which was extremely kind.
After dropping Special Ed off for his flight (for the second time...), Cunter and I went to a local Thai restaurant near the Irish Bar (official bar for the Taipa-Macau hash and a sponsor for all their shirts!), enjoyed some Tom Yum Fun soup and chatted a bit, playing catch up that was waylayed by the business of the week and hash. Post that I decided to play visitor and dropped a couple hundred Hong Kong dollars (roughly $20 U.S.) into a machine. The first one didn't pay off, but the second one pumped out almost 700HKD!
In typical tourist fashion though, I didn't pay out and the casino ate all my winnings. Hey, no heavy loss and I had a little bit of fun.
I must say, the casinos in Macau are a big step up from the ones in Las Vegas. They really cater to the high roller and wealthy visitor in terms of tables. Slots are really low key and the customers of the casino lack the "typical Las Vegas tourist" look and level of obnoxioiusness.
It was grand seeing you Cunter! Do try to make it back to Las Vegas again sometime soon!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Mother Hash 70th Anniversary Bash
Ok fine followers of hash-land. I sincerely apologize for a big lack of updates. To date I am 5 behind.
Do I have an unwarranted, half-assed excuse? Sure I do! My cell phone (most of my updates are done via my cell phone and internet accessed on it) is bricked. Something happened somewhere alone the way (first day in Philippines) where half the keys don't work, and the phone would do strange things on its own as if it was possessed. When I tried to reset it to factory settings, the whole thing bricked. The touch screen doesn't even work now. Ghastly, I know.
Anyways, I am currently sitting in one Special Ed's upstairs lounge in Barrio Barretto, Subic Bay, Philippines and he has a laptop, so my discourse on the biology of rodent mammals can continue unabated (at least until I move on).
Two weekends ago (Sunday, Dec. 7th to be exact) I was fortunate enough to attend the Hash House Harriers (also known as the Mother Hash) 70th Anniversary trail and party.
Getting picked up for trail by one of the organizers was a bit of a snafu though as I was waiting at a bus stop by Petaling St. on the wrong side of Kuala Lumpur's main post office. I made poor Opera wait an extra 20 minutes as I figured out where I was vs. where he was then made a mad dash sprint to the other side of the building complex (which is fairly large).
Getting there early did help in one thing though, I could rego on the spot without wading through masses of people and got my goodie bag early on. The contents of which were basic, a Mother Hash 70th polo shirt and a Hash House Harriers 70th Anniversary Celebration Run magazine, chock full of hash history and tales from the trail.
Now, I know we're all accustomed to hash names (well, if you've been following the blog, I'm sure you are), but Mother Hash does it a little differently. They don't have "hash names" they really just use their own names. Occasionally a nickname will pop up along the way (G, Ah Pek and Dynamite for example), but that is fairly seldom. I guess that will make this post slightly less interesting (or not, your call).
As the first couple hours past prior to trail start the area started to flood with hashers. We were in the bottom of a rock quarry a couple clicks from a main road and off the beaten path enough that our idiocy would be endured by whatever local population might be in earshot.
Then it started to rain and the place started to just flood.
Hashers were jumping puddles, huddling under tents and jib-jabbering away about exactly how wet this trail was going to be when things finally kicked off. If not drenched by the rain, the folly would be mud. This was compounded when stories started to leak forth of a hasher "Jungle" Tom Besar who was lost overnight the last time they laid trail in this location. In fact, there was a full recount of his disappearance in the 70th Anniversary magazine that everyone was reading at some point while waiting for the rain to disperse and/or trail to start.
Apparantly he started trail extremely late, made a mad dash to catch up and fell off the side of the hill... twice.
Now decently injured and a touch off trail in the pitch dark of the jungle night, Jungle Tom felt it would be best to hole up until day break and then work his way out of his predicament. With no mobile on his person, Tom started looking for paper again the next day and eventually got out of the bush and into a clearing, then with the help of some good samaritans, was able to reach a main road and make a call to get picked up by the missus. He was out on trail for roughly 21 hours.
So yeah, we're holding trail in the same place Tom got lost in, it's no longer raining, but the ground is muddy and wet.
I'm not sure everyone reading this knows what freshly rained on jungle is like, but slippery is an understatement. The ground is thick slimy mud that cakes on your shoes and removes any semblance of grip you thought you might have had. A properly prepared hasher would be wearing soccer cleats and even then, it might not do any good.
So trail kicked off. I made the most of a decent uphill slope climb to work my way up with the FRB's with the plan of if I got tired, I could slow down, let others overtake me and end up smack-dab near the middle.
This strategy worked out exceedingly well for a while, until a massive circle jerk near the top of the first big hill sent me fairly far back in the group.
This was also the last bit of sane land we hashed on as it went from following wet and muddy hillside footpaths to just wet and muddy hillside. But who needs grip anyways, you can just slide around and use trees to control the movement. Oops, that one has thorns... I'll just grab that other one... ouch, that one too. Ah fuck, now I'll just have to manuver this without grabbing onto anything. Or sliding into any of those thorn trees. Yay!
After cresting the second large hill in a switch-back fashion, the down part was pretty simple. Go down.
Without anything sensible to grab on to and my shoes now caked with mud, I was running out of options though. I decided to just balls out go for it and picked the cleanest path down I could find.
Then I took that mis-step that I tend to do in these situations which left me sliding, then spinning, then sliding headfirst on my back down this fairly steep muddy hill.
I think I went down a good 20 feet when I reached out and grabbed a nearby tree root, spinning myself back around so I could just slide down the last 5 or so feet and step off the hill onto the service road winding its way around the mountain.
With my backside completely covered in mud, I kept on trail for a little while until a passing stream gave me the opportunity to lie down and do a half-assed job of rinsing myself off. Well, at least I got most of the mud out of my shorts.
With the most difficult portion of trail over, we followed the service road to a lakeside path where trail followed the leading edge of the water for another couple of kilometers (trail was supposedly 15k, though it felt closer to 12 or 13) getting pictures taken by the hash flash and arriving at a previously unknown (and much needed) water stop. There the hashers monitoring the stop said it was only 3k more back to the start and the On-In.
I jogged this little bit, catching up to a lot of the hashers who passed me long ago in the jungle. It was a great warm-down from the exertion of navigating the hill.
Once On-In they opened up the water trucks, two giant tankers with water in them spraying from random pipes. Everyone took the opportunity to get a much needed shower after trail, drying off and putting on a fresh change of clothes.
The food was brought out in all its deliciousness. Curry, noodles, rice, curry, noodles and curry.
They also brought out the beer made specially for the occasion.
You see, Tiger Beer is kind of the official beer of the Mother Hash. It's been in the Mother Hash since its inception in 1938. Only then it was known by the label Malaysian Breweries Ltd.
Working with the Hash Heritage Foundation (working to rebuild the Hash House where the original Harriers lived and started the Hash), Tiger brewed one batch of Tiger Beer using the original labeling and ingredients that were used back in 1938.
The back label states, "A special reproduction of the vintage Tiger Beer as consumed by the founders and early members of the Hash House Harriers, at its inception in the Hash House in Kuala Lumpur, in 1938 and in the ensuing runs before WW2"
Wankers and diddlers, this is a new level of cool!
As the food wrapped up, we all gathered our seats near the stage where Edwin Ho, the On-Sec (taking the combined role of GM and RA positions that most hashes have) and another hasher (whose name I cannot recall) gave out various down-downs either in honor of individuals that helped put the event together or random charges for such offenses as new shoes and Freudian slips of whatever fashion.
When the charges were all said and done, the man in charge of the stage brought out a group that he simply called, "the unmentionables" a singer and four background dancers.
The ladies did an admirable job with the slightly un-energetic group (what were they expecting, strippers? Probably...), until the singer of the group started little games requiring audience participation to liven things up.
Me being me, of course I got up on stage. Other top notch joiners-in were Wild Wolf/Propo from the Wolfpack hash in the Philippines and TRTL Cock (This Ride Tastes Like Cock) from San Louis Obispo, California. Yes, when it came to actual partying, the visitors outshone the locals. It was a little brass, but those were hard working gals trying to entertain us, it's only fair to help out!
So, the five little competitions were a dancing competition, an air-band style competition, the "swing the carrot hanging between your legs to move the potato on the ground from start to finish race" and "background dancer" thing.
After the girls left, Wild Wolf started a little circle of his own which I joined in and we continued the silliness fairly late into the night before I caught a ride back to the guest house to prepare for my next stop.
Do I have an unwarranted, half-assed excuse? Sure I do! My cell phone (most of my updates are done via my cell phone and internet accessed on it) is bricked. Something happened somewhere alone the way (first day in Philippines) where half the keys don't work, and the phone would do strange things on its own as if it was possessed. When I tried to reset it to factory settings, the whole thing bricked. The touch screen doesn't even work now. Ghastly, I know.
Anyways, I am currently sitting in one Special Ed's upstairs lounge in Barrio Barretto, Subic Bay, Philippines and he has a laptop, so my discourse on the biology of rodent mammals can continue unabated (at least until I move on).
Two weekends ago (Sunday, Dec. 7th to be exact) I was fortunate enough to attend the Hash House Harriers (also known as the Mother Hash) 70th Anniversary trail and party.
Getting picked up for trail by one of the organizers was a bit of a snafu though as I was waiting at a bus stop by Petaling St. on the wrong side of Kuala Lumpur's main post office. I made poor Opera wait an extra 20 minutes as I figured out where I was vs. where he was then made a mad dash sprint to the other side of the building complex (which is fairly large).
Getting there early did help in one thing though, I could rego on the spot without wading through masses of people and got my goodie bag early on. The contents of which were basic, a Mother Hash 70th polo shirt and a Hash House Harriers 70th Anniversary Celebration Run magazine, chock full of hash history and tales from the trail.
Now, I know we're all accustomed to hash names (well, if you've been following the blog, I'm sure you are), but Mother Hash does it a little differently. They don't have "hash names" they really just use their own names. Occasionally a nickname will pop up along the way (G, Ah Pek and Dynamite for example), but that is fairly seldom. I guess that will make this post slightly less interesting (or not, your call).
As the first couple hours past prior to trail start the area started to flood with hashers. We were in the bottom of a rock quarry a couple clicks from a main road and off the beaten path enough that our idiocy would be endured by whatever local population might be in earshot.
Then it started to rain and the place started to just flood.
Hashers were jumping puddles, huddling under tents and jib-jabbering away about exactly how wet this trail was going to be when things finally kicked off. If not drenched by the rain, the folly would be mud. This was compounded when stories started to leak forth of a hasher "Jungle" Tom Besar who was lost overnight the last time they laid trail in this location. In fact, there was a full recount of his disappearance in the 70th Anniversary magazine that everyone was reading at some point while waiting for the rain to disperse and/or trail to start.
Apparantly he started trail extremely late, made a mad dash to catch up and fell off the side of the hill... twice.
Now decently injured and a touch off trail in the pitch dark of the jungle night, Jungle Tom felt it would be best to hole up until day break and then work his way out of his predicament. With no mobile on his person, Tom started looking for paper again the next day and eventually got out of the bush and into a clearing, then with the help of some good samaritans, was able to reach a main road and make a call to get picked up by the missus. He was out on trail for roughly 21 hours.
So yeah, we're holding trail in the same place Tom got lost in, it's no longer raining, but the ground is muddy and wet.
I'm not sure everyone reading this knows what freshly rained on jungle is like, but slippery is an understatement. The ground is thick slimy mud that cakes on your shoes and removes any semblance of grip you thought you might have had. A properly prepared hasher would be wearing soccer cleats and even then, it might not do any good.
So trail kicked off. I made the most of a decent uphill slope climb to work my way up with the FRB's with the plan of if I got tired, I could slow down, let others overtake me and end up smack-dab near the middle.
This strategy worked out exceedingly well for a while, until a massive circle jerk near the top of the first big hill sent me fairly far back in the group.
This was also the last bit of sane land we hashed on as it went from following wet and muddy hillside footpaths to just wet and muddy hillside. But who needs grip anyways, you can just slide around and use trees to control the movement. Oops, that one has thorns... I'll just grab that other one... ouch, that one too. Ah fuck, now I'll just have to manuver this without grabbing onto anything. Or sliding into any of those thorn trees. Yay!
After cresting the second large hill in a switch-back fashion, the down part was pretty simple. Go down.
Without anything sensible to grab on to and my shoes now caked with mud, I was running out of options though. I decided to just balls out go for it and picked the cleanest path down I could find.
Then I took that mis-step that I tend to do in these situations which left me sliding, then spinning, then sliding headfirst on my back down this fairly steep muddy hill.
I think I went down a good 20 feet when I reached out and grabbed a nearby tree root, spinning myself back around so I could just slide down the last 5 or so feet and step off the hill onto the service road winding its way around the mountain.
With my backside completely covered in mud, I kept on trail for a little while until a passing stream gave me the opportunity to lie down and do a half-assed job of rinsing myself off. Well, at least I got most of the mud out of my shorts.
With the most difficult portion of trail over, we followed the service road to a lakeside path where trail followed the leading edge of the water for another couple of kilometers (trail was supposedly 15k, though it felt closer to 12 or 13) getting pictures taken by the hash flash and arriving at a previously unknown (and much needed) water stop. There the hashers monitoring the stop said it was only 3k more back to the start and the On-In.
I jogged this little bit, catching up to a lot of the hashers who passed me long ago in the jungle. It was a great warm-down from the exertion of navigating the hill.
Once On-In they opened up the water trucks, two giant tankers with water in them spraying from random pipes. Everyone took the opportunity to get a much needed shower after trail, drying off and putting on a fresh change of clothes.
The food was brought out in all its deliciousness. Curry, noodles, rice, curry, noodles and curry.
They also brought out the beer made specially for the occasion.
You see, Tiger Beer is kind of the official beer of the Mother Hash. It's been in the Mother Hash since its inception in 1938. Only then it was known by the label Malaysian Breweries Ltd.
Working with the Hash Heritage Foundation (working to rebuild the Hash House where the original Harriers lived and started the Hash), Tiger brewed one batch of Tiger Beer using the original labeling and ingredients that were used back in 1938.
The back label states, "A special reproduction of the vintage Tiger Beer as consumed by the founders and early members of the Hash House Harriers, at its inception in the Hash House in Kuala Lumpur, in 1938 and in the ensuing runs before WW2"
Wankers and diddlers, this is a new level of cool!
As the food wrapped up, we all gathered our seats near the stage where Edwin Ho, the On-Sec (taking the combined role of GM and RA positions that most hashes have) and another hasher (whose name I cannot recall) gave out various down-downs either in honor of individuals that helped put the event together or random charges for such offenses as new shoes and Freudian slips of whatever fashion.
When the charges were all said and done, the man in charge of the stage brought out a group that he simply called, "the unmentionables" a singer and four background dancers.
The ladies did an admirable job with the slightly un-energetic group (what were they expecting, strippers? Probably...), until the singer of the group started little games requiring audience participation to liven things up.
Me being me, of course I got up on stage. Other top notch joiners-in were Wild Wolf/Propo from the Wolfpack hash in the Philippines and TRTL Cock (This Ride Tastes Like Cock) from San Louis Obispo, California. Yes, when it came to actual partying, the visitors outshone the locals. It was a little brass, but those were hard working gals trying to entertain us, it's only fair to help out!
So, the five little competitions were a dancing competition, an air-band style competition, the "swing the carrot hanging between your legs to move the potato on the ground from start to finish race" and "background dancer" thing.
After the girls left, Wild Wolf started a little circle of his own which I joined in and we continued the silliness fairly late into the night before I caught a ride back to the guest house to prepare for my next stop.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Lion City H3, Singapore
My personal prelube to the Mother Hash's 70th (can you tell I'm a tad excited about this?), I re-attended the Singapore Lion City H3 with full intent to do a complete trail and not just futz around on a bus the whole time to catch the tail end and trail.
Thanks to my hosts, The Velcros, I achieved success! Arriving in time for the start of a classy birthday run by Bully who turn s/ed the immaculate age of 69 at some point in time in the calendar on or around the specific day of the hash.
Still stinging from the level: inferno sunburn that was the result of my kayaking adventure in Bintan, I absolved to suck it up (what else was I to do? Bitch? Moan? Get back in the kitchen? Hardly!) and take trail on with the full ferocity (drunkeness?) of Alcoholiday!
Trail itself was a debacle on its own though as some clever T stops (remember: backchecks) kept the pack in slight disarray early on. Being the intelligent bastards that we are though, we sorted it out and got moving in a rather disorderly fashion (this is the hash, after all) on-on trail.
Somewhere along the way I ran across Cock Radio who said, "Haven't we gotten rid of you yet?" to which I replied with a solid, "I'm like tartar, you just haven't brushed enough."
Ummm... it sounded better in my head (Who said head?).
Anyways, I balanced myself between running, climbing, jogging and jabbering with another hasher about scuba diving (seriously, what?), then running again until we all arrived on the back end of this restaurant complex and lost paper.
Paper, what paper? We searched in vain for a good 13 or 14 minutes with no luck. At that point, hashers which knew their way around the area started to say, "eff this, we're just shortcutting back to start." (There is a benefit to A to A hashing in this aspect, though I don't think A to B exists in Asia to begin with)
I followed the thin line of hashers heading back to the main road, where about half a mile down was bloody trail!
Turns out there was a fence of some sort that had a gap at the bottom. The hare expected the pack to realize this and dodge under it. Now, back in the U.S.A. we're used to this sort of thing. But we're in Asia, and no one thought to look that way. Oh bother, tough shit, we're at the On-In now anyway!
Before circle itself kicked in, the pack slowly made its way to the pool area for some impromptu swimming. I tried suggesting possibly having circle in the pool itself, but was informed that the already fresh and dressed Grand Matress probably wouldn't budge on that mark. I didn't bother trying anymore (hey, not my hash).
Circle itself was held outside under constant threat of rain and in which the usual primordial charges were held. Hares, returnees, visitors, those with acid reflux, etc.
It was all good fun, but I fear that the constant use of the same two or three songs over and over again is going to stunt me in terms of returning to U.S. hashing in the coming month/s. Nevertheless, I was entertained by the accompaniment of hasher San, a Malaysian gal who usually does Bike Hashes and what-not. In fact, I'm supposed to e-mail her this link (hello, San! Look, you're mentioned!) Umm... hopefully that doesn't put her off e-mailing me back.
Dinner itself was grand, for his 69th, Bully put on an extravagant buffet of salad, noodles, au gratin, salmon, turkey and stuffing. For an American boy like me who just missed Thanksgiving, this was an absolute stunner. I ate and drank well that night with absolutely great company. For a final hash in the Singapore portion of this trip, I don't think I could've recieved better.
After the food was gone, the Velcros and I, accompanied by Cock Radio piled into their VW, dropping Cock Radio off before coming home. They broke open a bottle of champagne to send me off (how thoughtful, eh!?) and well, now they're asleep and I'm typing this. Tomorrow they're taking me to the Golden Mile where I'm getting my bus to Kuala Lumpur, positively snazzy! (I just typed that...)
Oh, and I was commented that I should leave more pics with my posts. For the most part I'm blogging by phone (I have one of those fancy ones with a qwerty pad), so it's not really feasible. When I get back though, I do hope to go through my photos and add one for all my posts (assuming I have one relevant).
I've got about two thousand though, so it may take some time to sort the crap from the utter crap.
Thanks to my hosts, The Velcros, I achieved success! Arriving in time for the start of a classy birthday run by Bully who turn s/ed the immaculate age of 69 at some point in time in the calendar on or around the specific day of the hash.
Still stinging from the level: inferno sunburn that was the result of my kayaking adventure in Bintan, I absolved to suck it up (what else was I to do? Bitch? Moan? Get back in the kitchen? Hardly!) and take trail on with the full ferocity (drunkeness?) of Alcoholiday!
Trail itself was a debacle on its own though as some clever T stops (remember: backchecks) kept the pack in slight disarray early on. Being the intelligent bastards that we are though, we sorted it out and got moving in a rather disorderly fashion (this is the hash, after all) on-on trail.
Somewhere along the way I ran across Cock Radio who said, "Haven't we gotten rid of you yet?" to which I replied with a solid, "I'm like tartar, you just haven't brushed enough."
Ummm... it sounded better in my head (Who said head?).
Anyways, I balanced myself between running, climbing, jogging and jabbering with another hasher about scuba diving (seriously, what?), then running again until we all arrived on the back end of this restaurant complex and lost paper.
Paper, what paper? We searched in vain for a good 13 or 14 minutes with no luck. At that point, hashers which knew their way around the area started to say, "eff this, we're just shortcutting back to start." (There is a benefit to A to A hashing in this aspect, though I don't think A to B exists in Asia to begin with)
I followed the thin line of hashers heading back to the main road, where about half a mile down was bloody trail!
Turns out there was a fence of some sort that had a gap at the bottom. The hare expected the pack to realize this and dodge under it. Now, back in the U.S.A. we're used to this sort of thing. But we're in Asia, and no one thought to look that way. Oh bother, tough shit, we're at the On-In now anyway!
Before circle itself kicked in, the pack slowly made its way to the pool area for some impromptu swimming. I tried suggesting possibly having circle in the pool itself, but was informed that the already fresh and dressed Grand Matress probably wouldn't budge on that mark. I didn't bother trying anymore (hey, not my hash).
Circle itself was held outside under constant threat of rain and in which the usual primordial charges were held. Hares, returnees, visitors, those with acid reflux, etc.
It was all good fun, but I fear that the constant use of the same two or three songs over and over again is going to stunt me in terms of returning to U.S. hashing in the coming month/s. Nevertheless, I was entertained by the accompaniment of hasher San, a Malaysian gal who usually does Bike Hashes and what-not. In fact, I'm supposed to e-mail her this link (hello, San! Look, you're mentioned!) Umm... hopefully that doesn't put her off e-mailing me back.
Dinner itself was grand, for his 69th, Bully put on an extravagant buffet of salad, noodles, au gratin, salmon, turkey and stuffing. For an American boy like me who just missed Thanksgiving, this was an absolute stunner. I ate and drank well that night with absolutely great company. For a final hash in the Singapore portion of this trip, I don't think I could've recieved better.
After the food was gone, the Velcros and I, accompanied by Cock Radio piled into their VW, dropping Cock Radio off before coming home. They broke open a bottle of champagne to send me off (how thoughtful, eh!?) and well, now they're asleep and I'm typing this. Tomorrow they're taking me to the Golden Mile where I'm getting my bus to Kuala Lumpur, positively snazzy! (I just typed that...)
Oh, and I was commented that I should leave more pics with my posts. For the most part I'm blogging by phone (I have one of those fancy ones with a qwerty pad), so it's not really feasible. When I get back though, I do hope to go through my photos and add one for all my posts (assuming I have one relevant).
I've got about two thousand though, so it may take some time to sort the crap from the utter crap.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Bintan Break after 4
The past three days I was on the Indonesian island of Bintan, drinking three times my room cost in beer and eating freshly caught squid.
I ocean kayaked to the nearest island "White Sands" getting fried like a fritatta in the process and spent my time just chilling out and relaxing.
The one thing I didn't do in Indonesia was hash. Which is a tad bit strange as some of the more major Indonesian islands have more hashes per square meter than anywhere else in the worlds. I've heard stories of Medan, where all the hashes line up on the side of the road and you can pick which group you're going to run trail with that day. It's insane!
I didn't do that. You see, I decided that after the past 7 months of bouncing around, going to trail runs and having no particular solid place to stay for the length of a day, I needed a vacation. That's right, a vacation from the trip.
Following four extremely busy days of cramped backpacker hostels and jetting around from hash to hash, I needed a break before continuing on. (Thankfully, the Velcros -Slow Cum and Jack Off- were kind enough to put me up for a couple days while I sorted the Indonesia travel plan thing, and again -now- as I prep to jump back up to KL for the Mother Hash anniversary)
So, the majority of my time in Singapore has been spent going to hashes. You can hash every day of the week here, so I put my time to good use.
First off was last Wednesday with the Singapore Harriets, reputedly the oldest hash chapter in the world, starting in 1973.
It was the wives of a bunch of hashers who were bored while their husbands were off gallavanting around the jungle, so they set up a meeting spot, held a run of their own and a H3 chapter was born!
Back in the original days it was a true Female only hash, if any male wanted to run trail with them, they had to be invited by a harriet, then placed in front of a commitee who would determine if they were allowed to attend the actual hash. Insane, yes, but not all that far from what a lot of Men's hash chapters do.
Now, of course, the Singapore Harriets are much more democratic in letting men join in on their fun. The one standing rule is that at all points in time a Harriet has to be leading the pack. If a man (for any reason) is leading the hash they will get charged at the On-In and be sentenced to having lip stick placed on them (usually via a kiss from Original -one of the original Harriets- on the lips) which they have to wear to the On-On-On.
Trail that night was (in comparison to a lot of what I've run in Asia) fairly even soiled. Mostly on bridges and roads with some grand detours across grassy fields and a couple walking trails in, on and around a large hill and the surrounding forests. It was roughly 10k, which is long for a lot of the trails I have done recently, but given as there was much less jungle treking, it was perfectly fine and cleverly placed T-stops (similar to back checks) kept the pack fairly together.
However, the humidity made things almost unreasonably hot, and upon arrival in circle I saw the ice water the drinks were placed in and dipped my face in to cool it off. Oops, faux pa on my part. Charge!
Ummm, "charge" is what they call accusations when they give out down-downs.
As I didn't have a shirt change and I was soaking from the trail, I took my shirt off (ooh la-la?) and laid it out to dry during circle, whereupon I was called out for not wearing a shirt. Ummm, oops?
It later turns out I was just being given shit for whatever reason. I took it in stride and resolved to bring an extra hash shirt next time I did trail.
I sang songs, which didn't go over as well as in prior hashes (to each their own?), but it seemed secretly a lot of harriets liked hearing something different but figure no one would go for it if they didn't know the lyrics. Someone get these girls a songmeister!
The on-after was at a fairly famous restaurant (name of which I cannot clearly recall) and consisted of fish and chips.
Fun moments on trail included asking Jack Off what "this is?" holding up a type of flower and getting the response of... "A flower."
I was more intelligent the next time around, simply stating, "I know what that is! A car!" while pointing at things.
Taking a quick wash behind the beer van with Goody Bags (a Harriet with a body 25 years younger than her actual age), who was changing her panties (under a sarong) for the second time and when I asked why she said the other ones were for the daytime (?) or something like that. She then offered them to me, at which point I simply said, "No thanks, their lace and I don't think the see-through effect would go over well."
Pure, comedy... gold!
The next day was the Thirsdae Hash, a more local group who held their trail out by the Nature Preserve, which also houses the largest hill in all of Singapore.
Oh joy, more hills!
I arrived in time to introduce myself to a number of their number, and with enough time to change into my shirts before trail started.
Beginning with a nice bit of road going into the preserve it quickly veered off into the jungle, shortcutting over onto a set of mountain biking trails.
Trail itself was fairly long, measuring in at the 8k range, but kept mainly to the trails so it went by quickly for the most part. Except for a few sections where we took around 500 steps UP UP UP to the top of the hill in sequence with jaunting around the sides and down a few sections.
Now, I've been a fairly good runner at the hashes, but generally the locals have the advantage on hill-territory because they know the lay of the land and are more used to the humidity.
This was the first time since Switzerland (that I recall without re-reading my prior posts) in which I was FRB. It almost wasn't so though as the steps up to the top of the hill brutalized me and it took me a touch longer to reach the top than other hashers.
Somehow though, I was able to sniff out trail a bit quicker at a check and with no more uphill to go, blazed on through to the road, which was a long, winding section down to where we started.
A very good trail with a nice circle afterwards. Ice was a welcome friend that I had last seen in Kuala Lumpur, and they sat me down on it to introduce myself before they lined up and introduced themselves one-by-one.
Afterwards I was asked to recall 5 of their names. Fortunately I was warned about this by a harriet named "Bring More" and was aptly prepared.
The On-After was at a local Korean restaurant and was the "everyone take some from the same platter" style. The Singaporeans were impressed at my willingness to try bits of every food (dried fish, whole, kim chee, etc.) as I suppose most westerners are a little wary of food that looks back at them.
I looked at the bus schedule and skipped the bar afterwards to make sure I didn't miss my bus back to my guest house in Chinatown and got home roughly midnight-ish. Just in time to catch the last sidewalk food vendor for some spicy dumpling soup before they closed.
The next day was the Lion City Hash. Singapore's name actually means "Lion City" or something like that and the city's logo is a Mer-lion, or a fish with a lion head. There's a famous statue near the port entrance, I took pics, it's grand, they'll get posted eventually.
So as for the Lion City Hash itself, well, I'll have to get back to you with that.
I left for it an hour and a half before the run start, only to get caught up on the bus there for over an hour. Couple that with the issue of finding a working ATM at the bus station and in the MRT (tube) lines, I ended up being an hour late for the hash. In fact I was on the bus to the start when I saw hashers (the walkers) at the end of trail. I told the bus driver to stop, jumped out and joined in file.
Of course I got a charge for that, autowanking an entire hash.
However, now that I'm back from Bintan, I will be attending the full Lion City H3 this evening, so I will just skip over that debacle and move on to this past Saturday.
The Singapore Hash House Harriets (SHHH...) 35th Anniversary!
Now staying with The Velcros, we drove to the Changi Sailing Club extremely early in order to start setting up for the event.
I took the opportunity of having extra time after registering to take a walk around the nearby park, where camping seemed to be in full swing. It was picturesque and very chill. It's someplace that would be amazing to hold a hash camp weekend or something if you could get governmental permission for the results of free flowing booze...
Returning to see everything in full swing, I changed into my hash gear and joined the line of people who were heading to the ferry boats for the long trail.
Trail was FANTASTIC! We all took ferries (about 20 ferries in all) to a nearby island. It's famous for seafood, camping and the lot. There trail took us around the edges of the seashore before cutting deep into the wood, disrupting a boy scout campout (yay!) and giving everyone a chance to slip and slide in the newly formed mud from the rain earlier that day.
Not wanting to give up on my new found energy burst (and FRBism), I spent most of the trail behind a Harriet named Tiger Lily. She's a marathoner and as strong a runner as anyone I've seen. With her in the pack, there was little worry about me ending up being lipsticked at the circle.
My only way of keeping up actually was the jungle. It appears that as fleet of foot as Tiger Lily is on the road, the jungle slows her down. I crash through areas regardless and didn't lose much speed whilst tripping over vines and what-not.
With about 10k full of a brilliant run, it was just a blast of a trail. There was a death trap (two rotting wooden planks across a treacherous gap!), a run across a still water-filled bay (reminiscent of one of Boston's trails that blew me away), and somewhere along the line some type of seasnake or something jumped up at me while I was running through a low tidal pool (yikes!).
Arriving to the end site of trail we were all treated to 100 Plus and water while we awaited ferry rides back to the sailing club for beer, food and circle.
Once there, I rinsed out my highly muddy shoes and took off my shirt before jumping in the pool. Yes, quite refreshing it was!
Beer in hand, I swam along contentedly until I heard the SHHH GM calling for circle.
I jumped out of the pool, then joined in circle (again without a shirt... oops? hey, mine was drying from trail and my back-up was drying from the rain earlier in the day!).
Sad to say though, circle was a touch lackluster. There were a HUGE amount of visitors (mostly from Malaysia), and I there was little control going on. The Malaysian hashes basically took over circle in the end with the only real outside inclusion being the Phillipino based Boo-Boo who threw out some triumphant charges on the basis that he was supposed to be in Bangkok with his fiancee until the protests caused the airports to shut and he was diverted to Singapore instead.
I got more crap for my being shirtless, but whatever, it's all good as a charge is a charge!
Things picked up in fun again though when the dinner was served. I sat next to a couple great hashers and chatted etc. for a while through dinner. Then a raffle (didn't win anything, but since I'm traveling, do I really need to?) and some skits, more raffle and dancing!
With the exception of my hating Abba (I mean, really... Abba?), it was a lot of fun. I got to dance with Original, Goody Bags and a few other ladies. None were in my age frame, but the night was about fun, not getting "action" anyway.
Eventually things closed up, the Malays went back to their hotels and most of the people left. I helped clean up with those that remained and shortly afterwards the music was on again and we all began a huge game of "throw each other in the pool!"
Within the span of 20 minutes no one was spared and we were all drenched. Thankfully we also did a great job in not throwing anyone's wallet or cell phone into the pool along with the person. Though, we did have to search for a hotel room key and a pair of glasses. It was an opportunity to test the water tightness of my flashlight I purchased in KL. Yes, it worked!
Ok, that's up to date now. I'm back from Bintan, staying with The Velcros, and we're going to the Lion City Hash tonight. Tomorrow off to KL for the Mother Hash's 70th Anniversary. On-On!
I ocean kayaked to the nearest island "White Sands" getting fried like a fritatta in the process and spent my time just chilling out and relaxing.
The one thing I didn't do in Indonesia was hash. Which is a tad bit strange as some of the more major Indonesian islands have more hashes per square meter than anywhere else in the worlds. I've heard stories of Medan, where all the hashes line up on the side of the road and you can pick which group you're going to run trail with that day. It's insane!
I didn't do that. You see, I decided that after the past 7 months of bouncing around, going to trail runs and having no particular solid place to stay for the length of a day, I needed a vacation. That's right, a vacation from the trip.
Following four extremely busy days of cramped backpacker hostels and jetting around from hash to hash, I needed a break before continuing on. (Thankfully, the Velcros -Slow Cum and Jack Off- were kind enough to put me up for a couple days while I sorted the Indonesia travel plan thing, and again -now- as I prep to jump back up to KL for the Mother Hash anniversary)
So, the majority of my time in Singapore has been spent going to hashes. You can hash every day of the week here, so I put my time to good use.
First off was last Wednesday with the Singapore Harriets, reputedly the oldest hash chapter in the world, starting in 1973.
It was the wives of a bunch of hashers who were bored while their husbands were off gallavanting around the jungle, so they set up a meeting spot, held a run of their own and a H3 chapter was born!
Back in the original days it was a true Female only hash, if any male wanted to run trail with them, they had to be invited by a harriet, then placed in front of a commitee who would determine if they were allowed to attend the actual hash. Insane, yes, but not all that far from what a lot of Men's hash chapters do.
Now, of course, the Singapore Harriets are much more democratic in letting men join in on their fun. The one standing rule is that at all points in time a Harriet has to be leading the pack. If a man (for any reason) is leading the hash they will get charged at the On-In and be sentenced to having lip stick placed on them (usually via a kiss from Original -one of the original Harriets- on the lips) which they have to wear to the On-On-On.
Trail that night was (in comparison to a lot of what I've run in Asia) fairly even soiled. Mostly on bridges and roads with some grand detours across grassy fields and a couple walking trails in, on and around a large hill and the surrounding forests. It was roughly 10k, which is long for a lot of the trails I have done recently, but given as there was much less jungle treking, it was perfectly fine and cleverly placed T-stops (similar to back checks) kept the pack fairly together.
However, the humidity made things almost unreasonably hot, and upon arrival in circle I saw the ice water the drinks were placed in and dipped my face in to cool it off. Oops, faux pa on my part. Charge!
Ummm, "charge" is what they call accusations when they give out down-downs.
As I didn't have a shirt change and I was soaking from the trail, I took my shirt off (ooh la-la?) and laid it out to dry during circle, whereupon I was called out for not wearing a shirt. Ummm, oops?
It later turns out I was just being given shit for whatever reason. I took it in stride and resolved to bring an extra hash shirt next time I did trail.
I sang songs, which didn't go over as well as in prior hashes (to each their own?), but it seemed secretly a lot of harriets liked hearing something different but figure no one would go for it if they didn't know the lyrics. Someone get these girls a songmeister!
The on-after was at a fairly famous restaurant (name of which I cannot clearly recall) and consisted of fish and chips.
Fun moments on trail included asking Jack Off what "this is?" holding up a type of flower and getting the response of... "A flower."
I was more intelligent the next time around, simply stating, "I know what that is! A car!" while pointing at things.
Taking a quick wash behind the beer van with Goody Bags (a Harriet with a body 25 years younger than her actual age), who was changing her panties (under a sarong) for the second time and when I asked why she said the other ones were for the daytime (?) or something like that. She then offered them to me, at which point I simply said, "No thanks, their lace and I don't think the see-through effect would go over well."
Pure, comedy... gold!
The next day was the Thirsdae Hash, a more local group who held their trail out by the Nature Preserve, which also houses the largest hill in all of Singapore.
Oh joy, more hills!
I arrived in time to introduce myself to a number of their number, and with enough time to change into my shirts before trail started.
Beginning with a nice bit of road going into the preserve it quickly veered off into the jungle, shortcutting over onto a set of mountain biking trails.
Trail itself was fairly long, measuring in at the 8k range, but kept mainly to the trails so it went by quickly for the most part. Except for a few sections where we took around 500 steps UP UP UP to the top of the hill in sequence with jaunting around the sides and down a few sections.
Now, I've been a fairly good runner at the hashes, but generally the locals have the advantage on hill-territory because they know the lay of the land and are more used to the humidity.
This was the first time since Switzerland (that I recall without re-reading my prior posts) in which I was FRB. It almost wasn't so though as the steps up to the top of the hill brutalized me and it took me a touch longer to reach the top than other hashers.
Somehow though, I was able to sniff out trail a bit quicker at a check and with no more uphill to go, blazed on through to the road, which was a long, winding section down to where we started.
A very good trail with a nice circle afterwards. Ice was a welcome friend that I had last seen in Kuala Lumpur, and they sat me down on it to introduce myself before they lined up and introduced themselves one-by-one.
Afterwards I was asked to recall 5 of their names. Fortunately I was warned about this by a harriet named "Bring More" and was aptly prepared.
The On-After was at a local Korean restaurant and was the "everyone take some from the same platter" style. The Singaporeans were impressed at my willingness to try bits of every food (dried fish, whole, kim chee, etc.) as I suppose most westerners are a little wary of food that looks back at them.
I looked at the bus schedule and skipped the bar afterwards to make sure I didn't miss my bus back to my guest house in Chinatown and got home roughly midnight-ish. Just in time to catch the last sidewalk food vendor for some spicy dumpling soup before they closed.
The next day was the Lion City Hash. Singapore's name actually means "Lion City" or something like that and the city's logo is a Mer-lion, or a fish with a lion head. There's a famous statue near the port entrance, I took pics, it's grand, they'll get posted eventually.
So as for the Lion City Hash itself, well, I'll have to get back to you with that.
I left for it an hour and a half before the run start, only to get caught up on the bus there for over an hour. Couple that with the issue of finding a working ATM at the bus station and in the MRT (tube) lines, I ended up being an hour late for the hash. In fact I was on the bus to the start when I saw hashers (the walkers) at the end of trail. I told the bus driver to stop, jumped out and joined in file.
Of course I got a charge for that, autowanking an entire hash.
However, now that I'm back from Bintan, I will be attending the full Lion City H3 this evening, so I will just skip over that debacle and move on to this past Saturday.
The Singapore Hash House Harriets (SHHH...) 35th Anniversary!
Now staying with The Velcros, we drove to the Changi Sailing Club extremely early in order to start setting up for the event.
I took the opportunity of having extra time after registering to take a walk around the nearby park, where camping seemed to be in full swing. It was picturesque and very chill. It's someplace that would be amazing to hold a hash camp weekend or something if you could get governmental permission for the results of free flowing booze...
Returning to see everything in full swing, I changed into my hash gear and joined the line of people who were heading to the ferry boats for the long trail.
Trail was FANTASTIC! We all took ferries (about 20 ferries in all) to a nearby island. It's famous for seafood, camping and the lot. There trail took us around the edges of the seashore before cutting deep into the wood, disrupting a boy scout campout (yay!) and giving everyone a chance to slip and slide in the newly formed mud from the rain earlier that day.
Not wanting to give up on my new found energy burst (and FRBism), I spent most of the trail behind a Harriet named Tiger Lily. She's a marathoner and as strong a runner as anyone I've seen. With her in the pack, there was little worry about me ending up being lipsticked at the circle.
My only way of keeping up actually was the jungle. It appears that as fleet of foot as Tiger Lily is on the road, the jungle slows her down. I crash through areas regardless and didn't lose much speed whilst tripping over vines and what-not.
With about 10k full of a brilliant run, it was just a blast of a trail. There was a death trap (two rotting wooden planks across a treacherous gap!), a run across a still water-filled bay (reminiscent of one of Boston's trails that blew me away), and somewhere along the line some type of seasnake or something jumped up at me while I was running through a low tidal pool (yikes!).
Arriving to the end site of trail we were all treated to 100 Plus and water while we awaited ferry rides back to the sailing club for beer, food and circle.
Once there, I rinsed out my highly muddy shoes and took off my shirt before jumping in the pool. Yes, quite refreshing it was!
Beer in hand, I swam along contentedly until I heard the SHHH GM calling for circle.
I jumped out of the pool, then joined in circle (again without a shirt... oops? hey, mine was drying from trail and my back-up was drying from the rain earlier in the day!).
Sad to say though, circle was a touch lackluster. There were a HUGE amount of visitors (mostly from Malaysia), and I there was little control going on. The Malaysian hashes basically took over circle in the end with the only real outside inclusion being the Phillipino based Boo-Boo who threw out some triumphant charges on the basis that he was supposed to be in Bangkok with his fiancee until the protests caused the airports to shut and he was diverted to Singapore instead.
I got more crap for my being shirtless, but whatever, it's all good as a charge is a charge!
Things picked up in fun again though when the dinner was served. I sat next to a couple great hashers and chatted etc. for a while through dinner. Then a raffle (didn't win anything, but since I'm traveling, do I really need to?) and some skits, more raffle and dancing!
With the exception of my hating Abba (I mean, really... Abba?), it was a lot of fun. I got to dance with Original, Goody Bags and a few other ladies. None were in my age frame, but the night was about fun, not getting "action" anyway.
Eventually things closed up, the Malays went back to their hotels and most of the people left. I helped clean up with those that remained and shortly afterwards the music was on again and we all began a huge game of "throw each other in the pool!"
Within the span of 20 minutes no one was spared and we were all drenched. Thankfully we also did a great job in not throwing anyone's wallet or cell phone into the pool along with the person. Though, we did have to search for a hotel room key and a pair of glasses. It was an opportunity to test the water tightness of my flashlight I purchased in KL. Yes, it worked!
Ok, that's up to date now. I'm back from Bintan, staying with The Velcros, and we're going to the Lion City Hash tonight. Tomorrow off to KL for the Mother Hash's 70th Anniversary. On-On!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Better than that hash you did on Alpha Centauri
A week ago (this would be a Monday here in Southeast Asia), I forewent going to the Mother Hash. It sounds insane, I know. However, I got an invite from Chicken Shit (one of the many I met during Sukhothai) to instead attend his hash, the PJ Animals. We called up one of the Mother Hash's mismanagement to confirm I could still register for the 70th Anniversary, day-of, and took off to the PJ Animals.
Chicken Shit is (I think...) an Indian gentleman who sports an enthusiasm for the wilder side of hashing that is on par, or bests, many I've seen. He's someone who takes it to heart, and it shows on his upper right arm where he has a PJ Animals tattoo.
Wanting to represent properly, I wore my LVHHH shirt (a neon green one with the logo designed by Nut N Honey) and bandana. On the way there, Chicken Shit asked me if the shirt I wore was from a mixed hash, "of course." I replied.
Then I learned a little something about the PJ Animals.
You see, they are a men's only hash. Like a lot of men's hashes in Asia, no women are allowed. Unlike a lot of men's hashes, with the Animals I can actually understand why. They take the "no women" as the bible and integrate it into every part of their circle. Even mentioning the word gives you a down-down charge.
Let me tell you about those! The Animals have (I kid you not... er, I goat you not?) an Ice Throne. It's a stainless steel tub with a backrest, set on something akin to a barber shop chair's base. They keep the initial beers in it until circle, then remove the beer and add more ice and water until it's the kind of slushy holy fuck that -to quote- "Is just enough to numb the balls and frost the tip."
It's both intimidating and completely amazing at the same time.
During circle, I was called up to introduce myself. Using the typical "Vegas" style rev-you-up, I immediately went into "Ladie....sssssshit." and they immediately placed me on the Ice Throne while the RA repeated that the Animals do not allow mention of "unmentionables" in circle.
I got up again, introduced myself without a slip-up, and afterwards was informed that the PJ Animals is not just the best hash in the world, but "In the universe!"
Yes, "The best hash in the universe!" is pretty much the PJ Animals call sign. Whether you or I feel our hashes are the best is indifferent, they're buying the dictionary on this one.
So, anyways, I get plopped on the ice, they give me my visitor charge and as a first time Animals attendee, I had to stand in front of the RA who pointed out my mixed hash shirt. It is an offense to wear a mixed hash shirt at the PJ Animals men's only hash!
Wow, to the extreme!
They asked if I had another shirt, I said no.
They put me aside and called in Chicken Shit. How dare he invite a hasher and not inform him of the PJ Animals custom!? Charge! On the ice! Down-down!
Then I got put back in front of the RA. I was given my beer (Quite the full one too...) and told that I had to match or beat the previous record of 1.34 seconds on the down down, or they would add ice (from the dreaded throne?) to the beer and I would have to drink it all... eww...
What have I gotten myself into?
I recieved my song, I did my down-down and as the last drop passed my lips, I felt a sudden shock and rush of cold over my head and down my back. Those bastards had taken a bucket full of ice water and drenched me!
The RA told me to take off my shirt (bandana was already off) and I handed it to Chicken Shit.
He then presented me with a dry PJ Animals shirt and the statement, "The Animals offer you a cold shower, but a warm welcome."
Then, one by one, each member lined up and shook my hand, welcoming me.
It may be the most welcome I have ever felt at a hash other than my home. Not to put down any of the absolutely amazing chapters that I've run with, but the Animals provided one hell of a show and the fuss over my presence (I'm only going to assume every visitor gets the same treatment) was overwhelming.
This is one of those shirts that I will probably never wear on trail. I will treasure it and put it on afterwards (or at least during pub crawls where I won't be sweating as much).
Congrats to the PJ Animals, they officially deserve to call themselves "Men's Only" and have the true hash spirit!
Also, trail was pretty kick ass. Nothing quite like Penang, but good mountain biking stuff up and down a bloody hill.
As for me now, I'm in Singapore, having just finished hashing 4 times in as many days. I owe a lot of blogging and I plan on completing it while I recover in Indonesia for the next 3 days. Expect to read from me again then!
On-On!
Chicken Shit is (I think...) an Indian gentleman who sports an enthusiasm for the wilder side of hashing that is on par, or bests, many I've seen. He's someone who takes it to heart, and it shows on his upper right arm where he has a PJ Animals tattoo.
Wanting to represent properly, I wore my LVHHH shirt (a neon green one with the logo designed by Nut N Honey) and bandana. On the way there, Chicken Shit asked me if the shirt I wore was from a mixed hash, "of course." I replied.
Then I learned a little something about the PJ Animals.
You see, they are a men's only hash. Like a lot of men's hashes in Asia, no women are allowed. Unlike a lot of men's hashes, with the Animals I can actually understand why. They take the "no women" as the bible and integrate it into every part of their circle. Even mentioning the word gives you a down-down charge.
Let me tell you about those! The Animals have (I kid you not... er, I goat you not?) an Ice Throne. It's a stainless steel tub with a backrest, set on something akin to a barber shop chair's base. They keep the initial beers in it until circle, then remove the beer and add more ice and water until it's the kind of slushy holy fuck that -to quote- "Is just enough to numb the balls and frost the tip."
It's both intimidating and completely amazing at the same time.
During circle, I was called up to introduce myself. Using the typical "Vegas" style rev-you-up, I immediately went into "Ladie....sssssshit." and they immediately placed me on the Ice Throne while the RA repeated that the Animals do not allow mention of "unmentionables" in circle.
I got up again, introduced myself without a slip-up, and afterwards was informed that the PJ Animals is not just the best hash in the world, but "In the universe!"
Yes, "The best hash in the universe!" is pretty much the PJ Animals call sign. Whether you or I feel our hashes are the best is indifferent, they're buying the dictionary on this one.
So, anyways, I get plopped on the ice, they give me my visitor charge and as a first time Animals attendee, I had to stand in front of the RA who pointed out my mixed hash shirt. It is an offense to wear a mixed hash shirt at the PJ Animals men's only hash!
Wow, to the extreme!
They asked if I had another shirt, I said no.
They put me aside and called in Chicken Shit. How dare he invite a hasher and not inform him of the PJ Animals custom!? Charge! On the ice! Down-down!
Then I got put back in front of the RA. I was given my beer (Quite the full one too...) and told that I had to match or beat the previous record of 1.34 seconds on the down down, or they would add ice (from the dreaded throne?) to the beer and I would have to drink it all... eww...
What have I gotten myself into?
I recieved my song, I did my down-down and as the last drop passed my lips, I felt a sudden shock and rush of cold over my head and down my back. Those bastards had taken a bucket full of ice water and drenched me!
The RA told me to take off my shirt (bandana was already off) and I handed it to Chicken Shit.
He then presented me with a dry PJ Animals shirt and the statement, "The Animals offer you a cold shower, but a warm welcome."
Then, one by one, each member lined up and shook my hand, welcoming me.
It may be the most welcome I have ever felt at a hash other than my home. Not to put down any of the absolutely amazing chapters that I've run with, but the Animals provided one hell of a show and the fuss over my presence (I'm only going to assume every visitor gets the same treatment) was overwhelming.
This is one of those shirts that I will probably never wear on trail. I will treasure it and put it on afterwards (or at least during pub crawls where I won't be sweating as much).
Congrats to the PJ Animals, they officially deserve to call themselves "Men's Only" and have the true hash spirit!
Also, trail was pretty kick ass. Nothing quite like Penang, but good mountain biking stuff up and down a bloody hill.
As for me now, I'm in Singapore, having just finished hashing 4 times in as many days. I owe a lot of blogging and I plan on completing it while I recover in Indonesia for the next 3 days. Expect to read from me again then!
On-On!
Friday, November 21, 2008
A Hash With Three Acts
Last night I attended my first hash in the Kuala Lumpur area of Malaysia. The (insert horns and drum roll here)... Royal Sengalor Hash House Harriers.
Started in 1938, this is one of the oldest hash chapters in existence, apparantly competing with the "Mother Hash" for that honor.
Of course, the Royal Sengalor Club is the home of the original Hash House, the one where the hash founders would grub down after trails. I did not get inside the actual club, and the original one has long ago burned down. Though, I hear one chapter is currently trying to raise the money to rebuild it.
Arriving by one of those bastard overcharging taxi's (35 ringiit for a trip that should've cost no more than 15), I had no choice as the first three drivers wouldn't even take me that far out of the center of town. It was either pay up, or miss trail. I have now set up rides for other hashes out here in which I wish to partake. Something I did almost immediately following my arrival yesterday at trail.
So, with those bad (bad, bad) tidings out of the way, I threw my bag in the beer wagon and joined up with the pack as trail started.
When I was in Penang, I was warned that KL wasn't nearly as hilly on their trails as my prior Malay hashing experience. Oops, wrong! We hit one of the hash's favorite trail locations and almost immediately started going up. The biggest difference was that this time we were on actual trails, mostly of the mountain biking variety.
Having started the day with a slight itchy feeling in the back of my throat, I knew I would be in for worse the next day when I felt myself getting quite worn on my way up the hill. I drained my water bottle and stopped about three or four times to catch my breath before moving on.
Finally, cresting the top of the hill by following a water drainage channel in the mud, I caught up with some of the other front runners, including Chicken Shit, a PJ Animals hasher who I met in Sukothai during Indochina. A great guy, he offered to give me a lift to his hash on Monday, then placed a call to the "Mother Hash" to make sure I can register for the 70th Anniversary event the day of.
Going down was a much quicker version of going up. It wasn't nearly the level of descent that I had experienced up in Penang, but at the same time it made the whole journey a bit more balanced.
To break down trail, there were three main components.
Start out going uphill, with a touch of road before cutting into the jungle mtn. bike trail where the real uphill portions gradually set in from slight angles to heavy ones.
Crest the top, and follow a moderate downhill slope on the same types of mtn. biking trails we went up on.
A long stretch of curvy road that went up briefly before winding down the side of the hill to lead the pack back to start.
Overall it wasn't an overly long hash, with the front runners coming in around 40 minutes (I came in closer to 45 mins). There could have been a few more checks, but the ones that they had (about 3) were well placed and tricky enough to keep the pack together up until we crested the hill.
Circle was more of the standard icey goodness. I quickly became defacto songmeister again, and all the charges were done in their due time. Afterwards we ate a great dinner of chicken and rice while cleansing our palates with Carlsburg draught on tap and eventually a bottle of scotch whisky.
Post On-In, Chicken Shit and I met a couple of the harriets (Mad Fish and Meow) at a bar for another couple of drinks before he took me back in to town and I got a quick foot massage (for the second night) before going to bed. No, there were no "happy endings"... though I might be able to bartar for a free foot massage later on as they keep wanting to practice their English with me.
Today I was "supposed" to go to the Petaling H3's run in a couple hours, but I called around for a ride an hour ago and most people have left already. I hear the start is about 50k out of town, so the only way I can get there now is via taxi, which I've already decided I don't want to do. Oh well, there's still the Chelas H3 tomorrow (wherever they're hashing at), and definitely the PJ Animals on Monday!
I've also seemed to pick up some decent bartaring skill in Chinatown. I grabbed a pair of leather Puma slip on shoes for 55 ringiit, talking them down from the original 95 quote.
I figure I might grab some local garb to ship back on Monday with a whole buttload of hash shirts I've collected and now need to offload to make room in my bag.
Broheim, if you read this in the next 24, want anything to add to your wardrobe?
Started in 1938, this is one of the oldest hash chapters in existence, apparantly competing with the "Mother Hash" for that honor.
Of course, the Royal Sengalor Club is the home of the original Hash House, the one where the hash founders would grub down after trails. I did not get inside the actual club, and the original one has long ago burned down. Though, I hear one chapter is currently trying to raise the money to rebuild it.
Arriving by one of those bastard overcharging taxi's (35 ringiit for a trip that should've cost no more than 15), I had no choice as the first three drivers wouldn't even take me that far out of the center of town. It was either pay up, or miss trail. I have now set up rides for other hashes out here in which I wish to partake. Something I did almost immediately following my arrival yesterday at trail.
So, with those bad (bad, bad) tidings out of the way, I threw my bag in the beer wagon and joined up with the pack as trail started.
When I was in Penang, I was warned that KL wasn't nearly as hilly on their trails as my prior Malay hashing experience. Oops, wrong! We hit one of the hash's favorite trail locations and almost immediately started going up. The biggest difference was that this time we were on actual trails, mostly of the mountain biking variety.
Having started the day with a slight itchy feeling in the back of my throat, I knew I would be in for worse the next day when I felt myself getting quite worn on my way up the hill. I drained my water bottle and stopped about three or four times to catch my breath before moving on.
Finally, cresting the top of the hill by following a water drainage channel in the mud, I caught up with some of the other front runners, including Chicken Shit, a PJ Animals hasher who I met in Sukothai during Indochina. A great guy, he offered to give me a lift to his hash on Monday, then placed a call to the "Mother Hash" to make sure I can register for the 70th Anniversary event the day of.
Going down was a much quicker version of going up. It wasn't nearly the level of descent that I had experienced up in Penang, but at the same time it made the whole journey a bit more balanced.
To break down trail, there were three main components.
Start out going uphill, with a touch of road before cutting into the jungle mtn. bike trail where the real uphill portions gradually set in from slight angles to heavy ones.
Crest the top, and follow a moderate downhill slope on the same types of mtn. biking trails we went up on.
A long stretch of curvy road that went up briefly before winding down the side of the hill to lead the pack back to start.
Overall it wasn't an overly long hash, with the front runners coming in around 40 minutes (I came in closer to 45 mins). There could have been a few more checks, but the ones that they had (about 3) were well placed and tricky enough to keep the pack together up until we crested the hill.
Circle was more of the standard icey goodness. I quickly became defacto songmeister again, and all the charges were done in their due time. Afterwards we ate a great dinner of chicken and rice while cleansing our palates with Carlsburg draught on tap and eventually a bottle of scotch whisky.
Post On-In, Chicken Shit and I met a couple of the harriets (Mad Fish and Meow) at a bar for another couple of drinks before he took me back in to town and I got a quick foot massage (for the second night) before going to bed. No, there were no "happy endings"... though I might be able to bartar for a free foot massage later on as they keep wanting to practice their English with me.
Today I was "supposed" to go to the Petaling H3's run in a couple hours, but I called around for a ride an hour ago and most people have left already. I hear the start is about 50k out of town, so the only way I can get there now is via taxi, which I've already decided I don't want to do. Oh well, there's still the Chelas H3 tomorrow (wherever they're hashing at), and definitely the PJ Animals on Monday!
I've also seemed to pick up some decent bartaring skill in Chinatown. I grabbed a pair of leather Puma slip on shoes for 55 ringiit, talking them down from the original 95 quote.
I figure I might grab some local garb to ship back on Monday with a whole buttload of hash shirts I've collected and now need to offload to make room in my bag.
Broheim, if you read this in the next 24, want anything to add to your wardrobe?
Thursday, November 20, 2008
A Tale of 3 Hashes (The 3H club?)
I must say I like Penang, Malaysia.
Absolutely loads of hashes, great folks and the jungle trails are simply insane hill climbing treks that leave you completely winded on the way up and exhilarated on the way down.
I spent a week in Penang, starting out at a small guest house just across the beach from Batu Ferringi, then switching over to Casa de Gangreen, a fellow hasher with a guest room who invited me to stay over with his family for the rest of my time there.
I also parasailed, had the misfortune of having a jellyfish (more likely stray dismembered tentacles from one) go up the leg of my swimwear, and got to snap pictures of wild monkeys while in the Botanical Gardens.
While in Penang I also hashed with three (count 'em, 1... 2... 3! Ha ha ha!) hashes. The Hash House Harriets Penang , the Penang International Hash Hounds (or PI) and the Hash Kaki Penang (Penang's simplest hash).
In doing so, I managed to miss hashing with 3 other hash clubs. The PH4, Penang Men's Hash and the Seberang H4.
In fact, to hash once with every single hash in Penang, it would take the better part of a month, simply because many hashes run on the same day, at the same time. It's almost like Atlanta, but seemingly more competitive in regards to group splits.
In regards to my paid internet time, I will comment that every hash I went to went up into a jungle, up and around large hills (more like small mountains), crested the top, then went back down in some fashion. They were all A to A trails and there were no water stops.
Hash House Harriets Penang:
This was my first trail on the jungle island and due to my phone's clock being off (it seems to do that a lot lately), I was late to the start. The pack had taken off about 10 minutes prior and I quickly got trail instructions from the harriet who laid trail prior to my starting.
Oh, with no bag car and not knowing if the trail was A to A or not, I carried my backpack with me into the trees.
Within about 20 minutes my calves were burning, my water bottle was already halfway gone and my shirt was soaked. The intense jungle humidity combined with the extra weight of my pack and my not being used to hills was simply brutal. I did quickly catch up to some of the older hashers, but ended up doing most of trail with just one trail buddy after two others turned back.
Up, down and around, then up again, around some more and then down, trail was only 3k, but the amount of ascents kept things from going too quickly. Eventually, a harriet named Bibi caught up to us (she was later to start than I!) and we followed her in.
Food was cooked, chats were had, I ran into Crazy German again (whom I first met at Indochina) and I learned that in Penang, you have to pay for beer. Nope, it's not included with the run fee. But it is the cheapest beer in town at roughly a dollar fifty a bottle. Yes, beer in Malaysia is pricey compared to other Asian countries. I think it has something to do with the heavy Muslim influence here. Oh well...
Circle itself was a lot of fun. They had the requisite block of ice, with the added fun of them dumping cups of cold water on you when you weren't looking during the accusation.
They also like to sing, but they don't know that many songs. When I started singing one of the more common ones from the U.S., looks of glee ignited in the Harriets eyes and I suddenly became Song Meister for the evening. I was also made to promise to get lyrics out to hashers within the group for their own learning and singing enjoyment. Here ya go!
http://harrier.net/songbook/index.html
Penang International Hash Hounds:
This trail started out halfway up one of Penang's giant hills and only went up from there! The group this time was much bigger, numbering what seemed like around 80. They were also more into it with rugby socks, gloves and everyone (including me this time thanks to Gangreen) had water packs on.
Trail started out climbing up a concrete water drainage canal directly into the bush, which is where I spilt my first blood of the night ramming my knee into one of the steps.
Shaking it off, we started a small animal path up, up and up, following a paper trail that eventually led to a check. We split up looking for trail in all sorts of directions, myself going up and right into a thick mess of bush with lots of friendly pricks looking to say, "Hi!" with a couple other hashers.
Several minutes later, someone found trail straight right from the check and not wanting to give up the high ground, me and a couple other pushed one last time through the waist high shrubbery to another animal trail before cutting right. A few meters later, the FRB's were climbing up right past us, so we changed course and joined in the chorus line of hashers.
I could feel my calves on fire from the heavy ascent and my left hand had two bleeding fingers from grabbing onto sawgrass, then switching to something with spikes, but I could've cared less. Atlanta had taught me how to block off the superficial cuts and scrapes and it probably saved me a down-down later that night. Rock on.
Trail was this past Saturday, so it was longer, probably 6 or 7k. Normally not a tough time, but with the hills and trees it was brutal. Often times I would need to simply grab trees and vines and climb up the hill, often falling back down or sliding onto my stomach into the mud because my shoes had long lost their tread (I had been looking for a new pair since Europe).
Eventually we crested the hill and after one more drop on my ass (to which Love Lace told me, "at least you have cushioning!"), The three or four hashers in my midst had a straight clear path through the trees on relatively stable ground.
Picking up speed, I suddenly felt a sharp jab on the back of my leg, up near the knee. Then a couple steps later, again in my shin. I slowed down wondering what the hell I had stepped in thinking that a thorny branch was sticking me, when Love Lace slapped her upper arm and cried out in pain. O.B., a harriet in front of both of us yelled, "bees! RUN!" and we did, high tailing it past a couple other hashers and out of the area as quickly as possible before we could get stung more.
Funny thing about the bees in the Penang jungle hills. They are small, black, hurt like hell and I never heard them coming.
Eventually safe from maurading insects and catching up to other hashers we then started going down, down, down amongst the trees. Often times the way down was so steep (combined with a lack of tread on my shoes) that the best way to progress was to go George of the Jungle style and simply use smaller, flexible trees and jungle vines as a way to control an otherwise wickedly fast descent. Barring the couple times when I almost ran into trees covered in inch long thorns, this was absolutely thrilling! By the time I had made it almost down the hill, I had become a master of just swinging from vine to tree to tree to vine again. In most cases I simply jumped, leaving my feet to touch the ground again only after whatever I grabbed onto slowed my momentum enough to bounce to the next one.
This only failed me once, at the very end, when I lost trail, but knew it was within 50 meters up from the roadside, and I decided to just shortcut through the bush but grabbed a hold of an unsecure vine which left me to roll once and then crash into the back side of a metal shed. Creating an awesome WHAM! sound.
Unhurt, time for circle!
Food and beer were the same as before. The munchies were a proper dinner cooked by the hares, and beer you paid for by the bottle. The only beer included with the run price was the down down beer, of which I had a few.
You see, somehow my singing prowess (?) had gotten out from the previous hash two nights prior and I was called to sing again a few times. Eventually getting called into circle for my visitor down-down.
Knowing what they did last time (let's keep your shirt dry, they dumped it in the ice water the beer was in before placing it over me), I beat them to the punch, taking off my shirt, then dousing it in ice water before putting it on again, then sitting on the ice.
They poured ice water over me, to no effect.
Now what? Oh yes, insted of putting Alcoholiday on the ice, let's put the ice on Alcoholiday!
They had me lay on the ground, then lifted up the ice block and placed it on my chest/stomach.
I'd like to think I held it up pretty well, especially when they then poured ice water on me. Stories were told, I sang my song and drank my beer, then another before they finally took the ice off and I got up.
Asking the Harriets for help to get warm (to no avail!), I got back into circle and seemed to become the song guy again, though less to an extent of the hash before.
Very good fun, and the Penang International Hash Hounds is holding a weekend pre-amble to next year's Interhash in Borneo that is promising to be spectacular. They are even holding a Red Dress Run during the pre-amble. So if you're going to '10 Interhash, it very well may be worth it to include a stop over in Penang before hand!
Tuesday Kaki Hash:
Oh boy, this should be fun.
I dislike taxi's in Malaysia, they charge foriegners anywhere from two to three times as much for fares and they refuse to use the meter they are supposed to follow by law. Gangreen explained the why to me, but all that means is I guess I won't be taking taxi's anywhere.
I ended up several kilometers away from where I was staying as a result of wanting to check out the Queensbay Mall (Penang's largest). When trying to go back, no one would take me on meter, so I told them to fuck off and went to look for a bus.
Instead I found myself in the back side of a police boat yard. I explained my mishaps and one of the wrenchers offered to take me in to Georgetown on his motorbike. I graciously accepted, threw him a few ringit for petrol and jumped on, getting in touch with Gangreen to arrange a pick up at a major hotel so I could make the trail (sadly making us both late to start by quite a bit as a result).
When we finally arrived, we were about half an hour late, late enough that the hares provided us with a short-cut route to meet up with the others. So we SCB'd directly up the hill. A much shorter, but much steeper route. Having adjusted to the hill climbs that had slaughtered me earlier, combined with knowing we were chunking off a huge part of trail, it felt like a quick ascent to the top, backtracking on some bits to follow trail paper left by a couple other hash clubs that had been in the same area over the past week or so.
At the top we waited in some kind of makeshift Chinese playground/tea room until Gangreen's wife, Sex Bitch arrived, then together we followed trail down to the on-in.
Crazy German was there as well (he was at all 3 of my Penang hashes), but decided to try and cut trail short by going downhill at an earlier point and ended up on the wrong side of the island.
Food, beer, etc. It was a good meal, with dessert included!
The circle was held with ice, down downs were given. It wasn't as hard core as the nights before, but then again, the Tuesday Kaki Hash is Penang's simplest hash!
On-On!
Tonight I hash in KL!
Absolutely loads of hashes, great folks and the jungle trails are simply insane hill climbing treks that leave you completely winded on the way up and exhilarated on the way down.
I spent a week in Penang, starting out at a small guest house just across the beach from Batu Ferringi, then switching over to Casa de Gangreen, a fellow hasher with a guest room who invited me to stay over with his family for the rest of my time there.
I also parasailed, had the misfortune of having a jellyfish (more likely stray dismembered tentacles from one) go up the leg of my swimwear, and got to snap pictures of wild monkeys while in the Botanical Gardens.
While in Penang I also hashed with three (count 'em, 1... 2... 3! Ha ha ha!) hashes. The Hash House Harriets Penang , the Penang International Hash Hounds (or PI) and the Hash Kaki Penang (Penang's simplest hash).
In doing so, I managed to miss hashing with 3 other hash clubs. The PH4, Penang Men's Hash and the Seberang H4.
In fact, to hash once with every single hash in Penang, it would take the better part of a month, simply because many hashes run on the same day, at the same time. It's almost like Atlanta, but seemingly more competitive in regards to group splits.
In regards to my paid internet time, I will comment that every hash I went to went up into a jungle, up and around large hills (more like small mountains), crested the top, then went back down in some fashion. They were all A to A trails and there were no water stops.
Hash House Harriets Penang:
This was my first trail on the jungle island and due to my phone's clock being off (it seems to do that a lot lately), I was late to the start. The pack had taken off about 10 minutes prior and I quickly got trail instructions from the harriet who laid trail prior to my starting.
Oh, with no bag car and not knowing if the trail was A to A or not, I carried my backpack with me into the trees.
Within about 20 minutes my calves were burning, my water bottle was already halfway gone and my shirt was soaked. The intense jungle humidity combined with the extra weight of my pack and my not being used to hills was simply brutal. I did quickly catch up to some of the older hashers, but ended up doing most of trail with just one trail buddy after two others turned back.
Up, down and around, then up again, around some more and then down, trail was only 3k, but the amount of ascents kept things from going too quickly. Eventually, a harriet named Bibi caught up to us (she was later to start than I!) and we followed her in.
Food was cooked, chats were had, I ran into Crazy German again (whom I first met at Indochina) and I learned that in Penang, you have to pay for beer. Nope, it's not included with the run fee. But it is the cheapest beer in town at roughly a dollar fifty a bottle. Yes, beer in Malaysia is pricey compared to other Asian countries. I think it has something to do with the heavy Muslim influence here. Oh well...
Circle itself was a lot of fun. They had the requisite block of ice, with the added fun of them dumping cups of cold water on you when you weren't looking during the accusation.
They also like to sing, but they don't know that many songs. When I started singing one of the more common ones from the U.S., looks of glee ignited in the Harriets eyes and I suddenly became Song Meister for the evening. I was also made to promise to get lyrics out to hashers within the group for their own learning and singing enjoyment. Here ya go!
http://harrier.net/songbook/index.html
Penang International Hash Hounds:
This trail started out halfway up one of Penang's giant hills and only went up from there! The group this time was much bigger, numbering what seemed like around 80. They were also more into it with rugby socks, gloves and everyone (including me this time thanks to Gangreen) had water packs on.
Trail started out climbing up a concrete water drainage canal directly into the bush, which is where I spilt my first blood of the night ramming my knee into one of the steps.
Shaking it off, we started a small animal path up, up and up, following a paper trail that eventually led to a check. We split up looking for trail in all sorts of directions, myself going up and right into a thick mess of bush with lots of friendly pricks looking to say, "Hi!" with a couple other hashers.
Several minutes later, someone found trail straight right from the check and not wanting to give up the high ground, me and a couple other pushed one last time through the waist high shrubbery to another animal trail before cutting right. A few meters later, the FRB's were climbing up right past us, so we changed course and joined in the chorus line of hashers.
I could feel my calves on fire from the heavy ascent and my left hand had two bleeding fingers from grabbing onto sawgrass, then switching to something with spikes, but I could've cared less. Atlanta had taught me how to block off the superficial cuts and scrapes and it probably saved me a down-down later that night. Rock on.
Trail was this past Saturday, so it was longer, probably 6 or 7k. Normally not a tough time, but with the hills and trees it was brutal. Often times I would need to simply grab trees and vines and climb up the hill, often falling back down or sliding onto my stomach into the mud because my shoes had long lost their tread (I had been looking for a new pair since Europe).
Eventually we crested the hill and after one more drop on my ass (to which Love Lace told me, "at least you have cushioning!"), The three or four hashers in my midst had a straight clear path through the trees on relatively stable ground.
Picking up speed, I suddenly felt a sharp jab on the back of my leg, up near the knee. Then a couple steps later, again in my shin. I slowed down wondering what the hell I had stepped in thinking that a thorny branch was sticking me, when Love Lace slapped her upper arm and cried out in pain. O.B., a harriet in front of both of us yelled, "bees! RUN!" and we did, high tailing it past a couple other hashers and out of the area as quickly as possible before we could get stung more.
Funny thing about the bees in the Penang jungle hills. They are small, black, hurt like hell and I never heard them coming.
Eventually safe from maurading insects and catching up to other hashers we then started going down, down, down amongst the trees. Often times the way down was so steep (combined with a lack of tread on my shoes) that the best way to progress was to go George of the Jungle style and simply use smaller, flexible trees and jungle vines as a way to control an otherwise wickedly fast descent. Barring the couple times when I almost ran into trees covered in inch long thorns, this was absolutely thrilling! By the time I had made it almost down the hill, I had become a master of just swinging from vine to tree to tree to vine again. In most cases I simply jumped, leaving my feet to touch the ground again only after whatever I grabbed onto slowed my momentum enough to bounce to the next one.
This only failed me once, at the very end, when I lost trail, but knew it was within 50 meters up from the roadside, and I decided to just shortcut through the bush but grabbed a hold of an unsecure vine which left me to roll once and then crash into the back side of a metal shed. Creating an awesome WHAM! sound.
Unhurt, time for circle!
Food and beer were the same as before. The munchies were a proper dinner cooked by the hares, and beer you paid for by the bottle. The only beer included with the run price was the down down beer, of which I had a few.
You see, somehow my singing prowess (?) had gotten out from the previous hash two nights prior and I was called to sing again a few times. Eventually getting called into circle for my visitor down-down.
Knowing what they did last time (let's keep your shirt dry, they dumped it in the ice water the beer was in before placing it over me), I beat them to the punch, taking off my shirt, then dousing it in ice water before putting it on again, then sitting on the ice.
They poured ice water over me, to no effect.
Now what? Oh yes, insted of putting Alcoholiday on the ice, let's put the ice on Alcoholiday!
They had me lay on the ground, then lifted up the ice block and placed it on my chest/stomach.
I'd like to think I held it up pretty well, especially when they then poured ice water on me. Stories were told, I sang my song and drank my beer, then another before they finally took the ice off and I got up.
Asking the Harriets for help to get warm (to no avail!), I got back into circle and seemed to become the song guy again, though less to an extent of the hash before.
Very good fun, and the Penang International Hash Hounds is holding a weekend pre-amble to next year's Interhash in Borneo that is promising to be spectacular. They are even holding a Red Dress Run during the pre-amble. So if you're going to '10 Interhash, it very well may be worth it to include a stop over in Penang before hand!
Tuesday Kaki Hash:
Oh boy, this should be fun.
I dislike taxi's in Malaysia, they charge foriegners anywhere from two to three times as much for fares and they refuse to use the meter they are supposed to follow by law. Gangreen explained the why to me, but all that means is I guess I won't be taking taxi's anywhere.
I ended up several kilometers away from where I was staying as a result of wanting to check out the Queensbay Mall (Penang's largest). When trying to go back, no one would take me on meter, so I told them to fuck off and went to look for a bus.
Instead I found myself in the back side of a police boat yard. I explained my mishaps and one of the wrenchers offered to take me in to Georgetown on his motorbike. I graciously accepted, threw him a few ringit for petrol and jumped on, getting in touch with Gangreen to arrange a pick up at a major hotel so I could make the trail (sadly making us both late to start by quite a bit as a result).
When we finally arrived, we were about half an hour late, late enough that the hares provided us with a short-cut route to meet up with the others. So we SCB'd directly up the hill. A much shorter, but much steeper route. Having adjusted to the hill climbs that had slaughtered me earlier, combined with knowing we were chunking off a huge part of trail, it felt like a quick ascent to the top, backtracking on some bits to follow trail paper left by a couple other hash clubs that had been in the same area over the past week or so.
At the top we waited in some kind of makeshift Chinese playground/tea room until Gangreen's wife, Sex Bitch arrived, then together we followed trail down to the on-in.
Crazy German was there as well (he was at all 3 of my Penang hashes), but decided to try and cut trail short by going downhill at an earlier point and ended up on the wrong side of the island.
Food, beer, etc. It was a good meal, with dessert included!
The circle was held with ice, down downs were given. It wasn't as hard core as the nights before, but then again, the Tuesday Kaki Hash is Penang's simplest hash!
On-On!
Tonight I hash in KL!
Monday, November 17, 2008
DANGER MINES... er HASH!
A little over a week back, Mount Hee and I traveled to Cambodia.
Specifically Phnom Penh, in order to hash.
On his budget level (one thing I have learned is that two travelers on
different budgets should meet up at places rather than travel together
as the limits of one almost always comes in conflict with the other)
we caught a train to the Thai/Cambodia border with intentions of
taking the next rail into Phnom Phen.
Boy that didn't work... First off the train from Bangkok was late,
then we arrived in the border town after the border closed, forcing us
to stay the night.
While looking for lodging Mount Hee kept aiming for the cheapest one.
The end result was a roach infested single room with ants on the bed
(where we figured the sheets weren't washed very frequently either.
Not trusting the place we took our valuables with us when we went out
to get dinner. On the way back I found a much nicer place for a
heftier price.
Not wanting to swallow the extra 3 dollars the reach motel cost him,
Mount Hee went back while I got a roughly 15 dollar room at this other
place where we agreed to meet the next day to cross over the border.
When crossing it was simply a run around. The border agent used a
guidebook (Lonely Planet?) to show us th entry rate, then asked for a
tip.
After that, he set us up with a shared taxi into Siam Reap. A 60
dollar ride smooshed into a Toyota Corolla with 2 other white people.
Then we went on a 4 or so hour ride along ghastly pot hole filled
roads, stopping at money changers (probably all working for the same
company as the taxi and border agent) who kept wanting us to change in
our Thai baht for cambodian currency (no thank you).
Then, the taxi takes us to a Tuk Tuk stand where we are told to switch
rides, and are given a guide who promises to arrange a taxi to Phnom
Penh for 80 US.
The driver doesn't speak english and the taxi doesn't even look like a
taxi. I think up a story to get rid of the tuk tuk driver and our
'guide', then have to pay off the taxi driver to get them to finally
leave.
So, there we are, in the middle of somewhere, siam Reap, Cambodia, the
only white people for who knows how far, and did I mention it's
raining like the dam burst?
Oh, the bus station is 'closed' also...
We hail a new tuk tuk and aim for the airport with hopes of getting a
plane to Phnom Penh and ending what has (for two days) been a relative
nightmare. Only to find out that you can't buy a plane ticket at the
airport. Only through travel agents in town... It's now past 8:00 at
night and we are both feeling very discouraged. Cambodia, so far, has
been ripping us off and leaving us for dead.
We catch another Tuk Tuk back into town, get a decent room that we
split for roughly 10 apiece and purchase boat tickets to Phnom Penh
for the next morning on the advice of Big Beaver, whom gave us a ride
from Indochina to Chiang Mai.
The next day consisted of a solid jet boat ride across the largest
lake in Cambodia, dropping us off in Phnom Penh with about 2 hours
until the hash started. We dropped our bags off, grabbed a tuk tuk and
made it to the pick up point about 1/2 an hour before they left to
begin trail.
Hashing in Cambodia wasn't all that bad, especially considering what
we went through to get there. It wasn't difficult by any means
(especially compared to what other hashers were telling me to expect).
Mostly along back alleys and wide dirt roads. We were in a more rural
area though, so we ran through some of the local villages where the
villagers were lining the streets to watch us (to quote the website)
"crazy barang runners".
Circle was lively and fun where everyone got to drink out of these
small silver bowls. The beer of choice in Cambodia is Anchor, a local
brew that is pretty hefty in alcohol content, ranging right up there
with the English Ales.
We spent an extra day in Phnom Phen, staying with a fellow hasher who
is also on Couchsurfing named Greg.
I finally got to break out my hammock which was also cool. There was
also the Water festival going on, so we all went to check that out.
Later that second night Mount Hee and I caught a flight to Bangkok, to
resituate for Malaysia.
Not wanting to deal with another border crossing mess, I booked a
flight, but seeing the 120 dollar ticket price, Mount Hee said, "Fuck
that." and went to catch an overnight train.
I spent the night at Noriega's bar (hash bars for the win!) and took
the flight the next morning to Penang with an extra day of leeway
before my first intended hash there with the Penang Harriets, which
will be my next post!
Specifically Phnom Penh, in order to hash.
On his budget level (one thing I have learned is that two travelers on
different budgets should meet up at places rather than travel together
as the limits of one almost always comes in conflict with the other)
we caught a train to the Thai/Cambodia border with intentions of
taking the next rail into Phnom Phen.
Boy that didn't work... First off the train from Bangkok was late,
then we arrived in the border town after the border closed, forcing us
to stay the night.
While looking for lodging Mount Hee kept aiming for the cheapest one.
The end result was a roach infested single room with ants on the bed
(where we figured the sheets weren't washed very frequently either.
Not trusting the place we took our valuables with us when we went out
to get dinner. On the way back I found a much nicer place for a
heftier price.
Not wanting to swallow the extra 3 dollars the reach motel cost him,
Mount Hee went back while I got a roughly 15 dollar room at this other
place where we agreed to meet the next day to cross over the border.
When crossing it was simply a run around. The border agent used a
guidebook (Lonely Planet?) to show us th entry rate, then asked for a
tip.
After that, he set us up with a shared taxi into Siam Reap. A 60
dollar ride smooshed into a Toyota Corolla with 2 other white people.
Then we went on a 4 or so hour ride along ghastly pot hole filled
roads, stopping at money changers (probably all working for the same
company as the taxi and border agent) who kept wanting us to change in
our Thai baht for cambodian currency (no thank you).
Then, the taxi takes us to a Tuk Tuk stand where we are told to switch
rides, and are given a guide who promises to arrange a taxi to Phnom
Penh for 80 US.
The driver doesn't speak english and the taxi doesn't even look like a
taxi. I think up a story to get rid of the tuk tuk driver and our
'guide', then have to pay off the taxi driver to get them to finally
leave.
So, there we are, in the middle of somewhere, siam Reap, Cambodia, the
only white people for who knows how far, and did I mention it's
raining like the dam burst?
Oh, the bus station is 'closed' also...
We hail a new tuk tuk and aim for the airport with hopes of getting a
plane to Phnom Penh and ending what has (for two days) been a relative
nightmare. Only to find out that you can't buy a plane ticket at the
airport. Only through travel agents in town... It's now past 8:00 at
night and we are both feeling very discouraged. Cambodia, so far, has
been ripping us off and leaving us for dead.
We catch another Tuk Tuk back into town, get a decent room that we
split for roughly 10 apiece and purchase boat tickets to Phnom Penh
for the next morning on the advice of Big Beaver, whom gave us a ride
from Indochina to Chiang Mai.
The next day consisted of a solid jet boat ride across the largest
lake in Cambodia, dropping us off in Phnom Penh with about 2 hours
until the hash started. We dropped our bags off, grabbed a tuk tuk and
made it to the pick up point about 1/2 an hour before they left to
begin trail.
Hashing in Cambodia wasn't all that bad, especially considering what
we went through to get there. It wasn't difficult by any means
(especially compared to what other hashers were telling me to expect).
Mostly along back alleys and wide dirt roads. We were in a more rural
area though, so we ran through some of the local villages where the
villagers were lining the streets to watch us (to quote the website)
"crazy barang runners".
Circle was lively and fun where everyone got to drink out of these
small silver bowls. The beer of choice in Cambodia is Anchor, a local
brew that is pretty hefty in alcohol content, ranging right up there
with the English Ales.
We spent an extra day in Phnom Phen, staying with a fellow hasher who
is also on Couchsurfing named Greg.
I finally got to break out my hammock which was also cool. There was
also the Water festival going on, so we all went to check that out.
Later that second night Mount Hee and I caught a flight to Bangkok, to
resituate for Malaysia.
Not wanting to deal with another border crossing mess, I booked a
flight, but seeing the 120 dollar ticket price, Mount Hee said, "Fuck
that." and went to catch an overnight train.
I spent the night at Noriega's bar (hash bars for the win!) and took
the flight the next morning to Penang with an extra day of leeway
before my first intended hash there with the Penang Harriets, which
will be my next post!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Posting at the speed of ...meh
Funny thing about tropical island life. It sucks your initiative for
things like posting in blogs, but gives you great energy for things
like waterfalls, running on the beach, rock scrambling, vine swinging
and all that. The perfect appetite builder for Tom Yam Fung and
grilled red snapper.
The only real down side to Malaysia so far is the beer is close to
Western European prices.
What's that? I'm in Malaysia!?
I'm a touch behind in hash posts (over a week now), so I'll have to do
these in a briefer format.
Pattaya H3 was a bit different from the Jungle hash they have out
there. With a group that numbers close to 100, there are definite
clicks that form between group members. Is this for the best of the
hash as a whole? I can't really say.
As for trail itself, we started in the middle of a rubber tree
plantation about a 45 minute bus ride from Pattaya. Traversing all
sorts of various terrain, it was an exceedlingly well laid trail that
broke from the rubber trees to the pineapple fields, then through some
jungle into tapioca trees (thankfully no wasps this time) and back
along service roads before cutting back into the jungle again to
returns into the rubber trees.
All in all it was about a 10k hash with tricky checks and well marked paths.
Circle itself was as grand as most I've attended, though much bigger.
The vibe from the Jungle hashes circle carried through, but not to the
extent of rambunctiousness (if that's even a word, whatever).
Back in Switzerland I was given a book by Moose Diver called Hasta
Bananas, written by a hasher named Black Justice (real name, Otti
Schmidt). While traveling to and through Thailand, I was able to read
through it. Basically his chronicles of sailing the south seas back in
the mid to late 90's, it was a fun read and really has helped me to
continue this blog (though I have been lazy as of late).
Well, standing in circle that night, I look at the hasher standing
next to me and he looks very similar to Otti. I ask him his hash name
and sure enough, It's Black Justice himself!
On the bus ride back into town, we chatted about traveling, writing
and sailing. It turns out he no longer has his boat Hasta Manana, but
still travels around asia and the south seas, just golfing in his
retirement. Very cool, even though I am not a golfer myself.
After the Pattaya hash, I spent a few more days in Pattaya, just
enjoying the beach, then jumped a bus back to Bangkok to meet up with
Mount-Hee to travel to Cambodia. Ummm... that's the next post!
things like posting in blogs, but gives you great energy for things
like waterfalls, running on the beach, rock scrambling, vine swinging
and all that. The perfect appetite builder for Tom Yam Fung and
grilled red snapper.
The only real down side to Malaysia so far is the beer is close to
Western European prices.
What's that? I'm in Malaysia!?
I'm a touch behind in hash posts (over a week now), so I'll have to do
these in a briefer format.
Pattaya H3 was a bit different from the Jungle hash they have out
there. With a group that numbers close to 100, there are definite
clicks that form between group members. Is this for the best of the
hash as a whole? I can't really say.
As for trail itself, we started in the middle of a rubber tree
plantation about a 45 minute bus ride from Pattaya. Traversing all
sorts of various terrain, it was an exceedlingly well laid trail that
broke from the rubber trees to the pineapple fields, then through some
jungle into tapioca trees (thankfully no wasps this time) and back
along service roads before cutting back into the jungle again to
returns into the rubber trees.
All in all it was about a 10k hash with tricky checks and well marked paths.
Circle itself was as grand as most I've attended, though much bigger.
The vibe from the Jungle hashes circle carried through, but not to the
extent of rambunctiousness (if that's even a word, whatever).
Back in Switzerland I was given a book by Moose Diver called Hasta
Bananas, written by a hasher named Black Justice (real name, Otti
Schmidt). While traveling to and through Thailand, I was able to read
through it. Basically his chronicles of sailing the south seas back in
the mid to late 90's, it was a fun read and really has helped me to
continue this blog (though I have been lazy as of late).
Well, standing in circle that night, I look at the hasher standing
next to me and he looks very similar to Otti. I ask him his hash name
and sure enough, It's Black Justice himself!
On the bus ride back into town, we chatted about traveling, writing
and sailing. It turns out he no longer has his boat Hasta Manana, but
still travels around asia and the south seas, just golfing in his
retirement. Very cool, even though I am not a golfer myself.
After the Pattaya hash, I spent a few more days in Pattaya, just
enjoying the beach, then jumped a bus back to Bangkok to meet up with
Mount-Hee to travel to Cambodia. Ummm... that's the next post!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Welcome to the Jungle (hash)
From my experiences with the Pattaya hashers in both Sukothai and Chiang Mai, I knew they were the group I wanted to hash with next. They seemed to know a good trail from a bad one and they could hold a kick ass circle. All in all, these were good guys.
Catching an overnight train from Chiang Mai to Bangkok (15 hours, 3rd class, sandwiched between two monks, this was an experience in its own right. It should be noted that I was the ONLY person in 3rd class who wasn't Thai. It was a bit rough at times as there was no AC and the mosquitos were rampant, but I would not call it a bad journey by any means, just uncomfortable.), I arrived only to be told that the trains to Pattaya don't run Friday through Sunday, I would have to take a bus instead. Then a worker there said they had one available and I went through the big mess of being conned into paying way too much for a minibus instead of the standard bus I wanted to take. Throw that in with the shit accomodations that they set up for me (charging 400 baht for too... that's the last time I a: let someone else set up my place to stay and b: not look at a place before staying there) and it wasn't the best start.
I took the opportunity of my first day there to walk around, get a map and just learn the area. I found the spot where the hashers meet to catch the hash bus and then headed back to my room with a 4 pack of Singha with the hopes that passing out would help alleviate where I was staying.
The next day I walked all of 5 minutes down the road and found another Guest House named Kim's that was only 100 baht a night more and I can quite frankly call it a 4 star accomodation. With what even the local hashers called a hell of a deal I booked the place for 4 nights and once again walked around, this time making it down to the beach to soak in the sun, dodge the prostitutes (they are EVERYWHERE) and just take in the atmosphere of "the eXtreme city" of Pattaya.
On Sunday I arrived at The Thistle Bar where I met up with many of the Pattaya hashers I had met at Indochina. Shiek Me Me, Shiek Bin Shaggin, Lord Lucan, Dizzy and others, including Mount Hee.
Paying the 400 baht visitor run fee (350 for locals, 250 for women...)
We jumped on the bus and headed out into the tapioca and pineapple fields of the surrounding rural areas for trail. With the bus pulling up next to a water retention basin of some sort, we walked a short way to the A site where they were unloading ice, setting up a circle of stools (sitting circle in Pattaya) and just getting ready in general.
There I met the hares, V.V. and Tampax and after a short span we set off into the tapioca trees to follow paper.
Zipping around the trees was good run, until I heard a slight buzzing in my ear and before I knew it hot fire shot into me. I was the victim of a wasp who nailed me in my left ear. I haven't been stung in a long time, but that just was incredible pain. Shiek Bin Shaggin' later told me he saw the damn thing target me, then follow me from three meters back like a damned guided missle.
By the time I shook off the pain, the running pack was well ahead and I had to work to catch up with the walkers. Regaling my tale with one of the Pattaya members, I got the response, "Welcome to Pattaya Jungle!" Boy ain't that right!
Nevertheless, I wasn't going to let one lousy wasp ruin this trail for me so I took off with a combination of following paper and shortcutting by listening to the cries of "On-On!" in the distance. Through this clever methodology I was easily able to catch up to the meat of the pack.
Eventually falling into a good pace, the trail started to divvy from the pineapple field paths and switched into the jungle. Same good jungle shiggy, much less mud than before. Thankfully the well laid trail kept our losing paper to a minimum and before I knew it, we were breaking back out into grassy fields and more pineapple. A few k more and the On-In was a welcome sight from what I could consider a great jungle run. Honor to the hares, V.V. and Tampax!
While waiting for the rest of the pack to come in, Asheville hasher Mount Hee decided to go swimming in the water basin. Umm, ok, swim away...
As he got out into the water Dizzy yelled at him to get out of the water, that they were starting a crocodile farm. Mount Hee quickly exited only to have Dizzy come up and say, "only joking mate!" Something that would come back to haunt Mount Hee in circle later that night.
With the pack now in, V.V. procured some wonderful french quisine of meatballs, rice and soup. We all noshed on the goodies for a while before Dizzy finally got circle a-goin' by calling the hares to the ice.
Now, it should be noted that Pattaya Jungle Hash is a sitting circle. They provide stools for everyone and two of the stools are pink. These are the "poofter stools" and if you get caught sitting on one, you get the bucket.
After the hare's down-down Dizzy explained his little joke to Mount Hee and after the laughter died down, he was proclaimed "the victim!" and given a fancy bonnet and girlie umbrella.
More down downs were given and Shiek Me Me took the stage with the call of "Jellybutt, in THE BUCKET!"
And there he stayed, in the bucket, while Shiek Me Me related story after story of some form or another. Then us Americans ended up on the ice for... well fucking up the world economy (sorry?). Well, at least we don't half ass stuff.
Shiek Me Me then passed circle back to Dizzy and Jellybutt got called out of the bucket. Not a second after he had rejoined circle Dizzy goes, "Jellybutt, in the bucket!"
Now, I don't know Jellybutt, but the man was getting abuse (sado?).
Circle passed hands a couple more times, with Dizzy getting us Americans on the ice again, this time for a report that came out of America that said people who drink more than 4 liters of beer a week have a greater chance for dementia. He then asked us on the ice how much we drank last week (I said, yes!), then commented on the other hashers drinking levels (I was six beers in, what do you want me to remember? Make it good!). He finished up our down-down and with Jellybutt out of the bucket and the ice empty, I was called in to have a hand in circle.
So, who did I call in? Jellybutt!
Keeping him off the ice for a moment, I asked the pack if they felt he had suffered enough. Of course not. But rather than put him in the bucket, I put him on the ice. I then called out the victim, and said that Jelly's been abused, and who gets abused more than the victim? Mount Hee, in the bucket!
I then called out the hares. You see these wankers were also the beer wenches and they had control of one of the pink poofter stools. All night they were trying to get me to sit on it, switching out my seat every time I stood up. But I am a wary and wily hasher and they failed time and time again. Their only success was when Mount Hee was on the ice and I pointed out to them that a valid opportunity was presented (yeah, I'm an advocate!).
I gave my down down, told Mount Hee to get out of the bucket and on the ice. Then I told the hares to get off the ice, and told Jellybutt to get back in the bucket before passing circle off to Dizzy who wrapped things up nice and cleanly. We all snagged a beer for the road before jumping back on the hash bus and heading back to The Thistle Bar.
All in all it was a grand experience and well worth my journey to Pattaya. Best hash in Asia so far!
Now, you may be wondering why I've gone into so much detail about circle. Well, at the beginning of circle Dizzy was looking for a scribe. No volunteers, so since I knew I would be blogging this anyway, I figured I could do the job with some degree of inefficiency. I've been pecking it together for the past 3 days through the beer haze of my mind. Who needs notes!?
Catching an overnight train from Chiang Mai to Bangkok (15 hours, 3rd class, sandwiched between two monks, this was an experience in its own right. It should be noted that I was the ONLY person in 3rd class who wasn't Thai. It was a bit rough at times as there was no AC and the mosquitos were rampant, but I would not call it a bad journey by any means, just uncomfortable.), I arrived only to be told that the trains to Pattaya don't run Friday through Sunday, I would have to take a bus instead. Then a worker there said they had one available and I went through the big mess of being conned into paying way too much for a minibus instead of the standard bus I wanted to take. Throw that in with the shit accomodations that they set up for me (charging 400 baht for too... that's the last time I a: let someone else set up my place to stay and b: not look at a place before staying there) and it wasn't the best start.
I took the opportunity of my first day there to walk around, get a map and just learn the area. I found the spot where the hashers meet to catch the hash bus and then headed back to my room with a 4 pack of Singha with the hopes that passing out would help alleviate where I was staying.
The next day I walked all of 5 minutes down the road and found another Guest House named Kim's that was only 100 baht a night more and I can quite frankly call it a 4 star accomodation. With what even the local hashers called a hell of a deal I booked the place for 4 nights and once again walked around, this time making it down to the beach to soak in the sun, dodge the prostitutes (they are EVERYWHERE) and just take in the atmosphere of "the eXtreme city" of Pattaya.
On Sunday I arrived at The Thistle Bar where I met up with many of the Pattaya hashers I had met at Indochina. Shiek Me Me, Shiek Bin Shaggin, Lord Lucan, Dizzy and others, including Mount Hee.
Paying the 400 baht visitor run fee (350 for locals, 250 for women...)
We jumped on the bus and headed out into the tapioca and pineapple fields of the surrounding rural areas for trail. With the bus pulling up next to a water retention basin of some sort, we walked a short way to the A site where they were unloading ice, setting up a circle of stools (sitting circle in Pattaya) and just getting ready in general.
There I met the hares, V.V. and Tampax and after a short span we set off into the tapioca trees to follow paper.
Zipping around the trees was good run, until I heard a slight buzzing in my ear and before I knew it hot fire shot into me. I was the victim of a wasp who nailed me in my left ear. I haven't been stung in a long time, but that just was incredible pain. Shiek Bin Shaggin' later told me he saw the damn thing target me, then follow me from three meters back like a damned guided missle.
By the time I shook off the pain, the running pack was well ahead and I had to work to catch up with the walkers. Regaling my tale with one of the Pattaya members, I got the response, "Welcome to Pattaya Jungle!" Boy ain't that right!
Nevertheless, I wasn't going to let one lousy wasp ruin this trail for me so I took off with a combination of following paper and shortcutting by listening to the cries of "On-On!" in the distance. Through this clever methodology I was easily able to catch up to the meat of the pack.
Eventually falling into a good pace, the trail started to divvy from the pineapple field paths and switched into the jungle. Same good jungle shiggy, much less mud than before. Thankfully the well laid trail kept our losing paper to a minimum and before I knew it, we were breaking back out into grassy fields and more pineapple. A few k more and the On-In was a welcome sight from what I could consider a great jungle run. Honor to the hares, V.V. and Tampax!
While waiting for the rest of the pack to come in, Asheville hasher Mount Hee decided to go swimming in the water basin. Umm, ok, swim away...
As he got out into the water Dizzy yelled at him to get out of the water, that they were starting a crocodile farm. Mount Hee quickly exited only to have Dizzy come up and say, "only joking mate!" Something that would come back to haunt Mount Hee in circle later that night.
With the pack now in, V.V. procured some wonderful french quisine of meatballs, rice and soup. We all noshed on the goodies for a while before Dizzy finally got circle a-goin' by calling the hares to the ice.
Now, it should be noted that Pattaya Jungle Hash is a sitting circle. They provide stools for everyone and two of the stools are pink. These are the "poofter stools" and if you get caught sitting on one, you get the bucket.
After the hare's down-down Dizzy explained his little joke to Mount Hee and after the laughter died down, he was proclaimed "the victim!" and given a fancy bonnet and girlie umbrella.
More down downs were given and Shiek Me Me took the stage with the call of "Jellybutt, in THE BUCKET!"
And there he stayed, in the bucket, while Shiek Me Me related story after story of some form or another. Then us Americans ended up on the ice for... well fucking up the world economy (sorry?). Well, at least we don't half ass stuff.
Shiek Me Me then passed circle back to Dizzy and Jellybutt got called out of the bucket. Not a second after he had rejoined circle Dizzy goes, "Jellybutt, in the bucket!"
Now, I don't know Jellybutt, but the man was getting abuse (sado?).
Circle passed hands a couple more times, with Dizzy getting us Americans on the ice again, this time for a report that came out of America that said people who drink more than 4 liters of beer a week have a greater chance for dementia. He then asked us on the ice how much we drank last week (I said, yes!), then commented on the other hashers drinking levels (I was six beers in, what do you want me to remember? Make it good!). He finished up our down-down and with Jellybutt out of the bucket and the ice empty, I was called in to have a hand in circle.
So, who did I call in? Jellybutt!
Keeping him off the ice for a moment, I asked the pack if they felt he had suffered enough. Of course not. But rather than put him in the bucket, I put him on the ice. I then called out the victim, and said that Jelly's been abused, and who gets abused more than the victim? Mount Hee, in the bucket!
I then called out the hares. You see these wankers were also the beer wenches and they had control of one of the pink poofter stools. All night they were trying to get me to sit on it, switching out my seat every time I stood up. But I am a wary and wily hasher and they failed time and time again. Their only success was when Mount Hee was on the ice and I pointed out to them that a valid opportunity was presented (yeah, I'm an advocate!).
I gave my down down, told Mount Hee to get out of the bucket and on the ice. Then I told the hares to get off the ice, and told Jellybutt to get back in the bucket before passing circle off to Dizzy who wrapped things up nice and cleanly. We all snagged a beer for the road before jumping back on the hash bus and heading back to The Thistle Bar.
All in all it was a grand experience and well worth my journey to Pattaya. Best hash in Asia so far!
Now, you may be wondering why I've gone into so much detail about circle. Well, at the beginning of circle Dizzy was looking for a scribe. No volunteers, so since I knew I would be blogging this anyway, I figured I could do the job with some degree of inefficiency. I've been pecking it together for the past 3 days through the beer haze of my mind. Who needs notes!?
Chiang Mai Post Lube
So, Mount Hee, Bimbo and myself caught a ride up with a fellow hasher and his wife up to Chiang Mai for the Indochina post lube.
Brilliant, perhaps this will help offset my disgust at Indochina 2008 itself!
We arrived and Mount Hee and myself snagged a double bed room at a guest house for only 300 baht total. Hanging out our soaked clothes from the rain we got our hash gear on and headed over to the Number 1 Bar to catch the bus to the run start.
Well, one of the run starts. It turns out that both the standard Chiang Mai hash and the Chiang Mai H3 (original, male only) were hosting trails that day. Something about local hash politics... bleh.
Nevermind, I ponied up the remainder of my baht for the trail (700 baht for a trail? wtf?), ordered a beer and waited for the hash bus to arrive. Mount Hee did the same, then, with a miscommunication between the hash cash, ordered the largest beer at the bar, thinking it was free. It should be mentioned that as budgeted as I am (which is why the cost of hashing in Asia has been a horrible shock to me), Mount Hee is even worse. I will swing 100 baht to a meal (roughly 3 bucks) and Mount Hee is grimicing at anything over 70. It's actually a little frustrating because every half penny is getting counted and I can't be bothered with it.
Ok, on to trail.
The bus took us out into the jungles of Thailand, about a half hour trip from the center of Chiang Mai. It turned out to be a special trail because the land was owned by a man who does organic farming and he's never let the hash hold trail there before. Even better was that this was PURE jungle. Most of what we hashed through was more than likely not frequented by humans.
The hares, Liberace, Graven Image and Grease Gorilla put us through our paces with tricky checks and shredded paper dancing akimbo from tree branches, bamboo and bird nets!
Of course right off the bat trail took us across a stream and then up an embankment that must have been in the 60 degree plus range. Combined with the rain earlier that day it turned into a giant mudslide that required us hashers to pick and pull our way up by grabbing the bamboo stalks. Simply incredible and absolutely dirty!
Once we got up on the hill, trail started to follow barely discernable animal trails that were no wider than a couple inches in some places. Still using the trees and bamboo for support, we hashed our way deep into the jungle, finally taking a left and partially sliding down to the creek we had crossed before. Only this time we had lost paper and began trudging around in high grass with who knows what sliding around between our legs. Later that night Dog Shit asked if I saw the snakes... What snakes? Oh, you know, the dozens of snakes that were getting the hell out of the water whenever we went in... Nope, didn't see them...
Eventually, with the call of "On-On!" someone found trail and we sloshed our way out of the grassy fields (did I mention the briar vines entangling our legs yet?) up to a nearby road. That's when I heard a yell of "Holy shit!" behind me. Turning around, Mount Hee was yelling about the largest damn snake he had ever seen that just slid between his legs while walking down the same path that I had just walked! We all got up on the road and a short way down we found the beer stop.
After a quick brewsky, we split up-some of the hashers going on the walking trail and the rest (myself included) on the longer running trail. Liberace informed me that there was only about 1k difference between the two, but the walkers stayed on the road from here on out while us runners got more jungle.
More jungle it was! Just a little way down the road trail suddenly cut left and we were back in the bush and trees, slipping on mud and navigating our way between thorn bush A, thorn bush B and rocky drop off C. At least twice I had grabbed a tree for support, only to yelp in pain as my hand grabbed right onto the half inch long thorns of a vine creeping up the hidden side.
Then the bird nets, where Fag, Mount Hee and myself rescued a trapped sparrow (which probably was eaten by some local wildlife afterwards anyway. These nets were made of an incredibly thing black webbing that in all honesty was completely invisible in the jungle. Immediately after freeing the bird, I ducked the bird net only to run right into another one. Fortunately I wasn't tangled and backed out to catch up with the rest of the pack.
After another few minutes I was now out of the jungle and on the road, catching up with Laos hasher Condom and then Fag. Knowing we were close and not wanting to get stuck out in the rapidly approaching dark, Fag and I shortcut part of trail and slid into the On-In where beer and kebabs waited.
There was a lot of quibble about the early part of trail being poorly marked and how it was so thick in the bush, not using any proirly established trails (animals or otherwise), but after hashing in Atlanta, I felt that this trail did quite well. An impressive showing for the Men's Hash.
Circle was another deal though, with a very promising combination of ice and a frozen in ice pig's head. However, it went on forever. It was just too long and suffered from the same -same song- fate as most of Asia's other circles. Nevertheless, there was a break in the middle of circle for everyone to go get more food (where I took the opportunity to take a nap in the bus).
The evening ended with a group photo in our new shirts and an on-after at the Foxy Lady A Go Go, which is owned by Fag. First drink free.
Very cute, tiny girls, but I'm not paying to bring one home. I'm not sure where they've been and I'm sure they have been to a lot of places. With another 2-3 months left on my trip, I don't feel like dealing with fire penis. Fair enough, the next day was another post-lube with the Chiang Mai Bunny Hash.
After securing another place to stay for a few days (Mount Hee left that morning) I jogged over to the Number 1 bar and hopped on the bus for round two of hashing. This time the trip was in a completely different direction, about 45 minutes out and we landed at the home of a hasher named Bone-Her. Great house with a pool, guest house, pool table room and frog pond. It was on a huge plot of land and had roman-esque decorating everywhere. Having already paid the 250 baht for this trail (ok, this is a little better), I found out that if I wanted any food, it would be another 150 baht...
They also had shirts, but having now paid 400 for trail alone, I just didn't feel like ponying up another 250 baht. Besides, I'm running out of room in my bag.
Trail itself was pretty well done. The hares had marked everything exceedingly well, taking us up footpaths and animal paths in the hills behind Bone-Her's. However, this was an extremely well hashed area and the FRB's did a premiere job of solving every check on the first go, which left us middle folk quickly falling further back.
Then it happened, somewhere along the way one of the FRB's broke a check in the wrong direction. As Noriega, Lord Lucan and myself tried to figure it out we went all the way up a hill to a watt (thai monk monestary) where there was a statue of a huge buddha being built, and then down a road... All of a sudden we were alone, getting caught in a mix where the non-male hash had their trail the day prior. Trekking further and further down a road, following paper that turned out to not be the right trail, and eventually finding the prior day's On-In before back tracking and still getting no where. Eventually Lord Lucan decided to simply follow the road in a "generally accurate" direction and we followed to find paper about a half mile down the way.
Now back on trail we ran it in, discovering that in our confusion most of the pack had now passed us and after our arrival only about 5 or 6 other hashers had to come in.
Circle began as before, minus the pig's head. It was lively and a huge improvement, but still the same bloody song. Then we broke for food, some excellent soup and more of the kebabs from the prior night. Garlic bread too!
After eating, circle started up again with its various highs and lows. I guess the reason it went well was because they weren't afraid to pass it off to others. With about 40-50 hashers there it gave a great chance for everyone to get their various infractions in. Bonus.
At the end, we all returned to the Number 1 bar for another couple of beers before calling it a night. All in all, a good hash.
Next up, Pattaya Beach City, Thailand.
Brilliant, perhaps this will help offset my disgust at Indochina 2008 itself!
We arrived and Mount Hee and myself snagged a double bed room at a guest house for only 300 baht total. Hanging out our soaked clothes from the rain we got our hash gear on and headed over to the Number 1 Bar to catch the bus to the run start.
Well, one of the run starts. It turns out that both the standard Chiang Mai hash and the Chiang Mai H3 (original, male only) were hosting trails that day. Something about local hash politics... bleh.
Nevermind, I ponied up the remainder of my baht for the trail (700 baht for a trail? wtf?), ordered a beer and waited for the hash bus to arrive. Mount Hee did the same, then, with a miscommunication between the hash cash, ordered the largest beer at the bar, thinking it was free. It should be mentioned that as budgeted as I am (which is why the cost of hashing in Asia has been a horrible shock to me), Mount Hee is even worse. I will swing 100 baht to a meal (roughly 3 bucks) and Mount Hee is grimicing at anything over 70. It's actually a little frustrating because every half penny is getting counted and I can't be bothered with it.
Ok, on to trail.
The bus took us out into the jungles of Thailand, about a half hour trip from the center of Chiang Mai. It turned out to be a special trail because the land was owned by a man who does organic farming and he's never let the hash hold trail there before. Even better was that this was PURE jungle. Most of what we hashed through was more than likely not frequented by humans.
The hares, Liberace, Graven Image and Grease Gorilla put us through our paces with tricky checks and shredded paper dancing akimbo from tree branches, bamboo and bird nets!
Of course right off the bat trail took us across a stream and then up an embankment that must have been in the 60 degree plus range. Combined with the rain earlier that day it turned into a giant mudslide that required us hashers to pick and pull our way up by grabbing the bamboo stalks. Simply incredible and absolutely dirty!
Once we got up on the hill, trail started to follow barely discernable animal trails that were no wider than a couple inches in some places. Still using the trees and bamboo for support, we hashed our way deep into the jungle, finally taking a left and partially sliding down to the creek we had crossed before. Only this time we had lost paper and began trudging around in high grass with who knows what sliding around between our legs. Later that night Dog Shit asked if I saw the snakes... What snakes? Oh, you know, the dozens of snakes that were getting the hell out of the water whenever we went in... Nope, didn't see them...
Eventually, with the call of "On-On!" someone found trail and we sloshed our way out of the grassy fields (did I mention the briar vines entangling our legs yet?) up to a nearby road. That's when I heard a yell of "Holy shit!" behind me. Turning around, Mount Hee was yelling about the largest damn snake he had ever seen that just slid between his legs while walking down the same path that I had just walked! We all got up on the road and a short way down we found the beer stop.
After a quick brewsky, we split up-some of the hashers going on the walking trail and the rest (myself included) on the longer running trail. Liberace informed me that there was only about 1k difference between the two, but the walkers stayed on the road from here on out while us runners got more jungle.
More jungle it was! Just a little way down the road trail suddenly cut left and we were back in the bush and trees, slipping on mud and navigating our way between thorn bush A, thorn bush B and rocky drop off C. At least twice I had grabbed a tree for support, only to yelp in pain as my hand grabbed right onto the half inch long thorns of a vine creeping up the hidden side.
Then the bird nets, where Fag, Mount Hee and myself rescued a trapped sparrow (which probably was eaten by some local wildlife afterwards anyway. These nets were made of an incredibly thing black webbing that in all honesty was completely invisible in the jungle. Immediately after freeing the bird, I ducked the bird net only to run right into another one. Fortunately I wasn't tangled and backed out to catch up with the rest of the pack.
After another few minutes I was now out of the jungle and on the road, catching up with Laos hasher Condom and then Fag. Knowing we were close and not wanting to get stuck out in the rapidly approaching dark, Fag and I shortcut part of trail and slid into the On-In where beer and kebabs waited.
There was a lot of quibble about the early part of trail being poorly marked and how it was so thick in the bush, not using any proirly established trails (animals or otherwise), but after hashing in Atlanta, I felt that this trail did quite well. An impressive showing for the Men's Hash.
Circle was another deal though, with a very promising combination of ice and a frozen in ice pig's head. However, it went on forever. It was just too long and suffered from the same -same song- fate as most of Asia's other circles. Nevertheless, there was a break in the middle of circle for everyone to go get more food (where I took the opportunity to take a nap in the bus).
The evening ended with a group photo in our new shirts and an on-after at the Foxy Lady A Go Go, which is owned by Fag. First drink free.
Very cute, tiny girls, but I'm not paying to bring one home. I'm not sure where they've been and I'm sure they have been to a lot of places. With another 2-3 months left on my trip, I don't feel like dealing with fire penis. Fair enough, the next day was another post-lube with the Chiang Mai Bunny Hash.
After securing another place to stay for a few days (Mount Hee left that morning) I jogged over to the Number 1 bar and hopped on the bus for round two of hashing. This time the trip was in a completely different direction, about 45 minutes out and we landed at the home of a hasher named Bone-Her. Great house with a pool, guest house, pool table room and frog pond. It was on a huge plot of land and had roman-esque decorating everywhere. Having already paid the 250 baht for this trail (ok, this is a little better), I found out that if I wanted any food, it would be another 150 baht...
They also had shirts, but having now paid 400 for trail alone, I just didn't feel like ponying up another 250 baht. Besides, I'm running out of room in my bag.
Trail itself was pretty well done. The hares had marked everything exceedingly well, taking us up footpaths and animal paths in the hills behind Bone-Her's. However, this was an extremely well hashed area and the FRB's did a premiere job of solving every check on the first go, which left us middle folk quickly falling further back.
Then it happened, somewhere along the way one of the FRB's broke a check in the wrong direction. As Noriega, Lord Lucan and myself tried to figure it out we went all the way up a hill to a watt (thai monk monestary) where there was a statue of a huge buddha being built, and then down a road... All of a sudden we were alone, getting caught in a mix where the non-male hash had their trail the day prior. Trekking further and further down a road, following paper that turned out to not be the right trail, and eventually finding the prior day's On-In before back tracking and still getting no where. Eventually Lord Lucan decided to simply follow the road in a "generally accurate" direction and we followed to find paper about a half mile down the way.
Now back on trail we ran it in, discovering that in our confusion most of the pack had now passed us and after our arrival only about 5 or 6 other hashers had to come in.
Circle began as before, minus the pig's head. It was lively and a huge improvement, but still the same bloody song. Then we broke for food, some excellent soup and more of the kebabs from the prior night. Garlic bread too!
After eating, circle started up again with its various highs and lows. I guess the reason it went well was because they weren't afraid to pass it off to others. With about 40-50 hashers there it gave a great chance for everyone to get their various infractions in. Bonus.
At the end, we all returned to the Number 1 bar for another couple of beers before calling it a night. All in all, a good hash.
Next up, Pattaya Beach City, Thailand.
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