Run No: 430 - 1 Sep 07 - Hac Sa Beach - The All American Hash

The All American Hash

An "All American Hash" was promised by Sandy the hare, Cunter Ass Thompson was coerced into being co hare.  Sandy gets a plane detour so can't make it, Cunter is left to make his Last Stand.

A motley bunch of hashers gathered in the afternoon sun.

Scooter Babe and Bush Pussy returned after 2 months lazing around overseas, Bolton Bollocks re appeared, Sheik Me Me returned from a spell down under, Glennfiddach was there and Shit House bought a family door - Danny along. After two years Lead Belly got confused with opening hours and came hashing in Macau.

So with regulars a pack of 15 set off from point "A" in chase of the sole Hare at 4.40pm.

The trail took us along the beach over to the head land where walkers went up and the rest followed the coastal path in a kinda of "U" shape (so the hare tells me).

First check saw most runners head straight (Bush Pussy and Titiana missing an easy short cut) then curve right back along the road and down towards Helena Gardens to another check.

There were many "R U's" before an "on on" call from Glennfiddach (who was being chased by Danny) high above signaled us to curve left up the "never ending steps" (Coloane is full of "never ending steps"). The hare tells me this was an intentional "S" shape.

Having reached the "7 ways to go" junction the trail was found to the right. Do the FRB's even think of marking the way? Along we trotted taking in the views to a R/W split with R detouring up to Am Ma then back down to rejoin the W trail. Now the hare claims this to be an "A"shape (more like an upside down V to me).

So there you have – the Hare's USA trail.

On down the pack charged in the hope of getting to point "B".

No such luck, the trail took us along the road to the "Westin Resort' then back tracked along "E-Bay" beach to the BBQ site where Beer Master Grandad had set up camp.

Danny claims to have piped Glennfiddach to the beer? racing???.

Whilst the pack re hydrated the hare flustered over a BBQ fire sending out smoke signals to lost hashers.

The circle was formed, DD's were started, smoke continued to blot the skyline. At an adjacent BBQ site with a red hot BBQ a six year old asked why the funny foreigners couldn't light a fire.

Many a DD was given until darkness started to descend, hashers nervously twitched saying it was getting dark and time to leave this wild location.

Social drinking was called and our black faced hare declared there were "Jelly Tots" and "Hot Dogs" for everybody. Great American BBQ thanks Cunter.

And so it was.

On On


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