Hash 457.5 : 2.2.08 : Mission to Taichung

Hares: Taichung H3          Scribe: Cunter Ass Thompson

Having come out of an alcohol induced medical coma that allowed my Achilles'
tendons to reattach themselves after finding out that the TH3 hashes at 45
degrees incline, I felt it was necessary to capture the awesome hash weekend
in Taichung that the TH3 put together for the small, but stout-livered,
delegation from the TMH3 (and to tell the rest of the TMH3 how much hash
goodness they missed out on!)

The weekend started having squealed into town at the stroke of Midnight with
Scooter Babe and the moment both feet hit the ground outside the bus, we see
three, visibly inebriated gentlemen of the hash approach, it was the other
half of the TMH3 representation of Nasiturd and Nancy Boy along with Lord
Dump. Being that there was much drinking catching up to be done, there was
no time to drop luggage off at the hotel, nay, there was drinking to be
done! (In retrospect you could say that we were headed to the hotel, just
very slowly and blissfully more and more sloshed....).

We pulled into the kicking bar of La Bodega where the howls of the small,
but powerfully fun crowd inside could be heard down the alley and found many
more hashers doing their pre-hashing exercises like a good hasher should be
doing on the eve of the hash. Porny Walker, one of the two hares for the
next day's trail was there and apparently we either missed our opportunity
or did a horrible job in getting the hare drunk the night before the hash.
Nancy Boy and myself consulted and confirmed that we had failed to gain
information about tomorrow's trail (not like it would really help the two
Taichung virgins anyways...), having failed at that, Absynth seemed like a
good idea. Shortly there after on the Pool Table, Porny Walker did show
some foreshadowing of tomorrow's trail by having no mercy and running Nancy
Boy's and Cunter's balls up and down the table while we sat there holding
our sticks. Plan B was decided to challenge Porny Walker and her partner in
crime, Nasiturd to a game of Foosball where Nancy Boy and Cunter were
finally make a decent showing of it (despite playing two men down as all
that was left was plastic nubs on the rod). Tragically Nasi showed us what
happens to the playing field in an Earthquake as the table was upended and
the match was called due to severe angling of the Turf...besides all this
playing was getting in the way of the drinking! We set out for the next bar
when suddenly an Zimbabwe Bush Hunter popped up from behind a trash can and
must of hit me with a blow dart as the rest of the evening had to be
recreated for me CSI style the next day. Apparently though I did a
wonderful rendition of trying to learn Karaoke Lyrics through Osmosis by
having my head on the Karaoke table and some Karaoke Bar. (Bonus for you
dear reader for having read this far through the muck, I did apparently
betrove my english style cap to said Karaoke establishment, if you are
inclined and in the neighborhood, stop by and grab it, it's all yours (and
it even comes with ear flaps!)

The next morning came all too quickly and with the time quick approaching to
set out for the box, I played "point-at-the-random" picture at MOS Burger
and ended up with a rather tasty creation that helped to sooth the savage
beast in the moments before Lord Dump arrived to whisk us off to A.

The exit for the box was clearly marked by a kind hasher who was either
waving hashers on in or simply windowshopping the lovely ladies of Taichung
driving by. We parked as the phone reports dwindled in of the location of
the hash caravan as it circumnavigated the streets of Taichung. Their
arrival was announced by the cloud of dust on the horizon and the wafting of
the smell of malted hops on the air. The cars continued to flow in, the
level of organization at a hash continuing to shock by the minute. Colon
Howl/(Howell?) pulled in wearing shades of a styel that a mortal might
describe as "progressive" but a hasher would call them "acceptable hash
attaire". A flying object caught my eye and incurred a double take as it
spiraled through the air...was it a beer on it's way to a thirsty hasher?
Was it a ladies undergarment being flung through the air in victory? Nay,
it was an American Football and a sight for sore eyes as Macau and HK are
suffering a severe shortage of them in this hasher's opinion. Skippy and
Sir Sniffs-A-Lot tossed the pigskin through the air as the hash began to
congeal. Pierre sat on the river wall masterfully showing how he can solve
the Rubick's Cube forwards and backwards...based on his wonder kid mastering
of languages, I'm willing to bet he could solve the cube blind with his
tongue... Just Blew It strided out of his vehicle in full hash attaire and
was seen taking a deep breath before exclaiming "I love the smell of the
hash in the morning. Smells like...debauchery!" Dave Da Ma and Jen Da Ma
arrived and rolled out the TH3 Haberdashery which I jumped at the chance to
support the TH3 and when I played the role of ignorant American consumerist
and asked "gosh, do you have any in a medium", DDM lifted up the old Cunter
ego by saying "No, actually you're an Extra Large." This was shocking news
to this hasher as usually when it comes to sizes, comments from others
usually range from "It's a bit cold out, eh?" to "Awwww, look at it, it's so
cute, just like a baby's". So needless to say the large tag being the words
"XL" will remain on the great TH3 shirt when I wear it with pride this week
on the hash.

Snoopy Pooper began collecting either donations for the "buy Snoopy a Keg
fund" or Hash Cash, one of the two...I tried to pay in shiny beads and
buttons before being corrected by Snoopy on the ways of the NTD.
Simultaneously Box was called and the hares gave such valuable advice as
"where the trail is slippery, it's going to be slick" before taking off
around the bend. The pack went back to prepping for the run with a fair bit
of changing going on which was new to me, this is a distinguished hash. The
hashers in the past I have known to change at A is due to the fact that they
drove to the box naked. Perhaps the most interesting prep was of Skippy's
who donned a pair of impressive pink elephant shorts complete with rope
tail, floppy ears, and a suspicious looking trunk that appeared to be
weighted down with some contents that I presume must be dual purpose, to hit
the bastard in the cojones with each step, and/or weigh them down in
general. For you see, the pink elephant is the hash honor of the FRB from
the previous week. Apparently the elephant has been going home on Saturday
Nights with skippy more often than two teenagers in love.

The walkers headed off and Snoopy Pooper inquired to Nancy Boy and myself if
we were going to take water with us to which my general reply was something
along the lines of "thanks, no I just drank some" which loosely translated
into English is "I'm a dumbass". So either because 9 out of 10 hashers
recommend it, or because Snoopy just didn't want to have to drag our sorry
asses off the trail, he suggested that we may want to rethink that
calculation. Amazingly, it was quickly proven on trail that yes the local
hashers know to bring water and the out of towners were idiots for trying to
think otherwise.

Finally with the walkers on out and Sara and Tara both chomping at the bit
to get on trail, the Runners were off and had a great 50 meter jog before
running into an inconveniently placed hill. And so the ascent began and it
was a gradual incline that was very well marked, including the use of some
one in the pack's chalk markings which consisted of them throwing down their
entire piece of chalk on the ground...now that's a mark that's hard to
miss! The Runners and Walkers joined up that went through a couple series
of switchbacks before requiring the use of two ropes and various flora to
ascend the first of several daunting inclines. It become obvious that while
the water was much needed on trail, the TH3 Hashers with the camelbacks were
one step ahead...For as all 10 fingertips and toes were needed to climb the
hill, this left the options for the water bottle to either be lodged in the
mouth or waistband and sport a rather pornographic look, or simply tossing
the bottle to the top of the hill and hoping that it both makes it there and
didn't roll back to conk you in the head.

The hills were ascended and pavement has found again...Lord Dump doled out a
quick impromptu lesson on the hill with stories about it moving 1 meter in
the quake of 99 and how it was going to be a housing development. Now they
tell you that you know you're at a good running pace if you can hold a
conversation and I truly did want to make it a two-sided conversation and
talk back to Lord Dump. However the trail had other ideas as my hopes of an
intelligible response were degraded past monosyllabic words and even when
reduced to attempted "uh-huh", it become a truncated "uh" and basically
sounded like a creepy guy breathing on the other end of the telephone. I
gave up that idea and watched Lord Dump disappear into the clouds above.

Flipper, The Bush Kangaroo! had long since jaunted past and was tearing up
the hill above. Although to be fair, she did have an advantage of being in
the natural environment of the rare Outback Dolphin. It was at this point
that we rounded a corner and discovered what could of only been a
asphalt-layers' piece-de-resistance before setting fire to the company
trailer and quitting. For the sadistic wanker had created a road that had
to be at a near 45 degree angle... The sight of it alone made me wish I had
brought my camera on trail just so I had pictures of the hill that killed me
(but then I realized if I had brought my camera when climbing these hills,
it would have been the second thing to conk me in the head right after the
waterbottle). But the hash must go on, there's beer out there somewhere!
So like flies moving on flypaper, everyone worked their way up the hill past
the steep dropoff on the left and then when they weren't even needed, to a
handrail lined step section that seemed to end ahead...until they turned the
corner and kept on going. It was at this corner that up ahead the
unmistakable sound of Skippy's voice was heard clearly stating "Hey, there's
more hill up here! Huzzah!" (Okay, maybe he didn't say the yippee part, but
the tone of voice made it quite apparent that somebody had eaten their
Wheaties this morning). The corner did give the first glimpse of the
beautiful valley and rolling hills heading into the horizon though, wow! As
I slowed down and took in the view, Tara (who had already been up and down
the steep hill at least 4 times at this point) appeared at my side and I
gave her some of my water...she gave me a look as if to say "hey, this isn't
beer!" and with that took off again up the hill.

As I continued up the now step laden hill my trusty sherpa by my side, I
pondered making camp here and trying for the summit in the morning, but the
thought of that golden nectar drove me on and besides, I realized I was
finally sobering up (45 degree hills apparently will do that). As I
finished off my baker's dozen of Asthma Inhalers, BeerMom came cruising by
saying "I run up 13 flights of stairs everyday after work, this is nothing!
Yeehaw!" (okay maybe she didn't say Yeehaw, but I gestured to her with an
arm in a motion that could either be interpreted as "please go on ahead of
me" or "help me, I'm having a stroke". Up ahead there was stoppage by the
pack, could it be a check? (rolling down the hillside to the left didn't
sound all that bad at this point) or even better a beer check? Nay, it was
the R/W split with the Runners getting the good news of no more having to go
up any more steps, nope, instead it's offroad up the hillside. At this
point I had fallen far enough back that I was following trail on my own so
guessing which inanimate object to grab to get up the hill was interesting
and lead to such discoveries as "some trees when they rot become really
gooey" and "half of a bamboo stalk lying on the ground looks amazingly like
a full weightbearing bamboo stalk lying on the ground". At times I found
the hill had me spread out Spread Eagle with my nose 5 centimeters from the
ground and me suddenly having a simultaneous revelation of "hmmm, I wonder
if I can use my teeth to get a better grip on the dirt" and "hey, what kind
of creepy crawlies are there in Taiwan?". Fortunately neither question had
to be answered as the top of the hill appeared out of the trees and at first
I wasn't sure if it was a hiking station or somebody's house, luckily it was
the former. A quick glance to watch the Gobi Desert descend on Taichung and
also be able to exclaim "Hey, I can see the box from here!" and then
continuing on trail with (soon to be named) Hash Freak who had caught up to
me by this time.

True trail led on a awesome spine ridge run of the hill and then looping
back into lazy curves down the opposite side through a Pear orchard that's
branches were receiving the Elephant Man treatment. While true trail took
more of a switchback approach through the orchard, one was able to cut it a
little steeper until you realized that among the fully grass, floating
leaves, and lush shrubbery was also low lying ground vines, pitted holes,
and the occasional, but frighteningly frequent significant brick protruding
out of the ground. It was at the bottom of this first incline that I was
running right behind Hash Freak and saw him lodge his foot between two
upturned rocks and then watched his whole body roll to the side and he
twisted his ankle...it looked pretty nasty, but Hash Freak stood on the side
of the trail, took two breaths through his teeth, and then was off again.

Trail continued to be awesome as it swooped down to the bottom of the
valley, across to the other side, through an 8 way check and on up the next
rise. Trail looped around the hillside and back down to where either the
FRBs had too much time/chalk on their hands and were planting some
counterintelligence, or was just having bad luck with the checks as the next
three checks all had bad trails marked on them. I caught up to Dave Da Ma
and Sir Sniffs-A-Lot as they were closing out the checks. A quick loop up a
hillside orchard led us past a random license plate that instantly made you
wonder "where's the car this came from all the way out here??" 50 meters
further, it was found, giving a great big bear hug around a sturdy tree.

It was at this point that trail led on up through the treed hillsides and
around a gate before hitting pavement and continuing on up until reaching
another killer view along with a temple of some sorts and the R/W join.
Apparently either the majestic view or the power of the temple proved too
much for some as it was who inscribed on the rock wall for all time that yes
indeed, Snoopy Pooper Hearts Lord Dump.

All of a sudden trail became scary and strange. It was unlike any other
part of trail thus far. While this initially spooked and concerned me, I
quickly figured out what was different with this picture, it was because it
was an extended downhill run, yay! Downhill, that's where I'm a Viking!
Cruising downhill past the denizens of Taichung making their pilgrimage up
the hill, I realized my mastery of Mandarin was lacking in that I only three
words of "Thank you", "Hello how are you", and "Very Good". This led to
such delightful conversations I'm sure such as:

THEM - good morning!
ME - Thank you!

THEM - Slow Down and be careful!
ME - Thank You!

THEM - Do you know what time it is?
ME - Thank You!

THEM - you're a dumb white guy who can't speak Mandarin, huh?
ME - Thank You!

And while it was obvious my Mandarin was lacking, there was some
reassurance that at least I know that there is a "n" in the word behind as
the hare's had (thoughtfully) written instructions on a gate to go behind
it, but spelled behind, "BEHIDE" and then either them or some one else drew
the N above it so it now read BEHINDE, which I guess has a French Flair to
it when said with the right accent. Thankfully the average hasher was smart
enough to figure out that true trail wasn't straight down to certain death,
but really was behind the gate. It was at the gate that I caught up with
Jen Da Ma who I subsequently chased down the river as we caught up to
Flipper, The Bush Kangaroo!, and BeerMom. True Trail ran down a streambed
(that was still in use by said stream) and was quickly deduced to be the
aforementioned slippery part of the trail. While most of the pack was
following the hare marks and leaping from rock to rock like inebriated
mountain goats, Sir Sniffs-A-Lot (I never did hear the source of his hash
name of Sniffs-A-Lot and what did he do to become knighted and become a
sir? Did he sniff a damsel in distress? Was his nose the 5th Beatle?) came
flying down the quick way, middle of the stream with what I presume to be
now pretty clean looking, but funky smelling/tasting shoes. Up ahead we
could hear splashing, and giggling, and general carousing and we came around
the corner to find Hasher Marie playing Teeter-totter on a rather massive
piece of wood in the middle of the stream. Hash Instinct at first told me
to join them, but like Odysseus' sirens I realized that it might be a hare
trick to keep us from the beer, ONON was cried out and both the teeter and
the totter joined in the pack as we caught up with Nasiturd and Scooterbabe
and the majority of the rest of the pack including one (and apologies for
forgetting the hash name), very pregnant harriette whom I can't believe did
that trail, wow! As we continued to wind through the river with BeerMom,
Jen Da Ma,and Flipper, The Bush Kangaroo! I decided that this serene and
beautiful stream was far too profanity and lewdness free and started up a
couple rounds of I used to work in Chicago (
http://tinyurl.com/ytzal8 ) and
Yogi Bear ( next to last song -
http://tinyurl.com/yqf6zl ). Have polluted
the canyon with poor taste I got the hint when the three harriettes
mysteriously decided to speed up...I wonder why?

But regardless, we were out of the canyon and back on to a path through
the forest, I should clarify that a CARPETED path through the forest. And
while I was busy being happy about not rolling any ankles leaping from rock
to rock in the canyon, I promptly tripped on the carpet in the forest and
rolled my ankle. After this elicited a couple of choice non-singing
explictives, I continued on and after less than 1/2 km, trail headed down
pondside where we zigged and zagged around fisherman and babies a like. It
was on the on-down to the pond that we were navigating through the trees
when a cold wet furry object slithered against my legs and elicited a school
girl like yelp while I looked down to see it was Tara who was obviously on
her second pass of this section of trail having already enjoyed the cool
wetness of the pond...

We left the pond and followed true trail another 200 meters before
running into most of the rest of the pack trying to solve (What turned out
to be the last) check. People were headed in multiple directions trying to
decode the flour X's and examining the forest floor for forensic evidence
that hares had been through here when a loud ONON rang through out the
hillside and all the pack was drawn in like magnets towards the voice.
Snoopy Pooper apparently was seen grabbing the nearest low hanging vine and
swinging Tarzan style into FRB status with the rest of the pack close behind
as we came around the corner back at A and brought to an end a great great
trail.

The rest of the pack was coming in when the hares were told about the
pregnant hasher (again, sorry about missing the name) still being out on
trail, Just Blew It hopped on the back of the closest Moped and took off to
sweep trail and see how hard it was to find a pregnant lady in the jungle.
Thankfully his mission was a success and he caught her before she entered
the stream section of trail.

Colon Howl never broke stride as he came on in and made a beeline to his
car as he had to go to a hockey game, good on him for coming out, some
lesser hashers I know wouldn't have even come. (the hasher soon to be
named) Hash Freak commented that his virgin friend he brought was nowhere to
be seen when something was spotted on the horizon running out of the
sunset...as it came closer it could be made out to be a topless guy running
Baywatch style up the road from a direction that was fairly far off trail.
It was the lost virgin who apparently either had shopping to do in town or
got lost on trail and made up his own.

The rest of the pack filtered in and were busy enjoying the great hash
snacks and golden nectar as circle was called to order by Acting RA, Snoopy
Pooper. Down Downs were elicited, yours truly being nailed quite quickly
for playing 3 rounds of double handed pocket pool. Snoopy gave out the
quote of the day award for "My Husband isn't married", Hash Freak stood in
his sandals next to BeerMom who pointed out his Hash Freakiness that they
both had webbed toes and instantly the name of "Hash Freak" was proposed and
passed. Hash Freak was baptized with a lovely mixture of beer and dirt and
god knows what else as another hasher was brought into the fold. Sir
Sniffs-A-Lot received punishment for forgetting how to make Mac and Cheese
as well as forgetting that metal conducts (and retains!) heat quite well.
Snoopy Pooper took ownership of the Pink Elephant for the week while Beermom
was adorned with it's counterpart, a lovely FRB Beaver Pelt. The Teeter
Totter twins were dobbed in as well as a harriette (hasher Oreo?) for
forgetting Little Sister's name. Nancyboy was dobbed for failing to bring
Fishy Fingers to the hash while both Lord Dump and Dave Da Ma received
rousing renditions of "Who's the Wanker?". The usual classyiness of the TH3
circle was disturbed somewhat by the crass songs coming from the TMH3, but I
personally hadn't heard the "Who's the Wanker" before and will definitely be
using that one, that is a classic.

The circle continued on with many great and deserving down downs, some
items were Beer-Bayed off to some impressive bids that came under scrutiny
when they became a team effort. The final downdown of the night was Pierre
the wonderkid boldly self-incriminating himself as wearing new shoes so he
got a delightful teabag down down for it. The TH3 then did an supercool
thing for the TMH3 and adorned them with topnotch TH3 bags and towels...this
was unbelievable and hard to top. As we sadly ran out of TMH3 shirts, I
hope this hash trash and the accompanying hash flash begins to communicate
how much fun I had and what awesome hash gear the TH3 gave us. The only
other thing I can strive for is that I fully intend to come back to another
TH3 hash here soon and will come with more shirts and treasures in tow. (or
if any TH3 is going Interhash, I will try and track you down there as well!)

The Circle was adjourned to regroup at the Bash where the food was
great, the beer was flowing, and between the Table Down Downs, a shattering
rendition of the Music Man, and Dave Da Ma's (proving that Christmas can
provide a reason to drink year-round ) 12 Days of Hashmas, the pack was
sated and well imbibed before heading back to La Bodega for more debauchery
and drinking before setting off for The Zoo where NancyBoy and myself, in a
very non-hash approved move, disappeared quicker than Cinderella did from
the ball.

The Next morning we staggered out of bed and made our way back to the
airport as the drunken haze wore off and the reality of having to face
another work week loomed, everything was made oh so much better by a
fantastic and unforgettable hash weekend with the TH3!

Here's to the TH3! I'd rather being hashing with you than with the best
people in the world!

ONON Taichung Hash!
-Cunter "Ditching out of the Zoo definitely makes me an" Ass Thompson