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
Friday, December 19, 2008
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?
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