Run No: 427 - 11 Aug 07 - Miramar Restaurant, next to Westin Hotel, Coloane


The Run to Nowhere

In the absence of a hasher willing to write up Saturday’s run (come on, it wasn’t that bad), it has been left to your humble hare to set the record straight in the face of scurrilous accusations. Ran out of flour indeed....this was a work of towering genius and a landmark in human endeavour.
Because of the dire conditions your loving hare had to wait until the last moment to set the trail, which was therefore virtually live, and had stocked up with 28 kilos of flour and 12 boxes of chalk, a little more than his usual load, so that the pack would be sure to have something to follow despite the rain.

First he set a check at the entrance to Barragem de Hac Sa park. A pity it got washed away, but never mind, the pack know their way around these parts and couldn’t go far wrong with the copious amounts of flour which had been generously laid down for them.

The conditions were appalling as the poor hare ventured into the forest. The rain was falling down (well it wouldn’t fall up would it?) The wind was howling and the storm-tossed leaves were scurrying across the open ground. (I liked that bit). Typhoon Pubic was nearing the end of a big blow job, so it may not be such a coincidence that Pubic Plucker chose this day to make her annual appearance.

At the end of the lake the trail divided into a very cunning runners and walkers split. The runners were treated to a safari through virgin bramble as they wound their way up a gentle but rugged incline, this being the easiest way up Coloane Hill for the less nimble, whilst the walkers had to run all the way around the lake and then climb the stairs straight up to the A Mah Statue. “That’ll teach the lazy SCB’s who decide to run the walkers’ trail” thought the hare, but it seems that nobody found that bit.

By the time Mini Me and Pubic Plucker had finally chatted their way to the split it had been washed away, and they somehow found themselves on the Big Road, far away from the trail, but they didn’t get frightened: they just gave up and came home. Who knows what happened to Shit House? He must have gone around the bend as he ended up orbiting one hill several times before making a slow descent to the safety of the beer cooler.

After many clever and devious checks, apart from the one that Sheik Me Something-or-other said was too difficult (altogether now......) everyone else managed to get to the A Mah statue. The whole area was as clean as a new pin, having been thoroughly washed by the rain, flour and all: a worthy monument to domestic helpers everywhere. St. Peter made the most of this and decided to skate down the temple steps. Somebody should have reminded him that skating on your face can be painful.

Meanwhile the hare was down in the Hac Sa valley battling with the elements and worrying about whether the pack would find their way in as the rain was washing out kilo after kilo of flour. He was already down to only 5 kilos and running out fast, so he decided to save the pack from any risk of danger and to call a ‘B’. First he looked in the Hellene Gardens car park, but that was dark and scary, so he opted for the new awning outside the youth hostel. He then had to run all the way back to the Miramar to get Grandad and the beer wagon.

By this time Grandad was on his 23rd can of Tsing Tao (don’t mention the Hash Cash) and wasn’t well enough to get the van to the youth hostel, so our civil-minded hare and Pubic Plucker decided to run a pubic bus service from B to A. Did they receive any thanks? Well, this is the Hash and that sort of thing is frowned on. A few went for a ride with Pubic Plucker, whilst the Rambos snootily decided that Nancy Boy’s wagon wasn’t good enough for them and opted to run back to the start.

We gathered outside the Miramar to watch the clouds setting over the river sludge, all except for Roger & Out, who had to go and fix a helicopter or something, and Colonic of the Delicate Passage, who left early for obvious reasons. We all commiserated with Betty, his Boobs and Tittiana, who were off the next day to “build sandcastles” in Koh Samui for the next 3 months, and the hare settled in for a totally unwarranted bout of punishment.

Father forgive them for they know not what they do...