Venue: Chiang Rai Beach.
Hares: Hard-wired (+ Pee) and Begging for it
Our Chairman Shocking (Pat) welcomed us all to bucket and spade country. It was another hot and sticky afternoon in Northern Thailand, but this trail promised us a little more shade than May’s Hash. There were 37 of us, with a very good turnout of 9 young Hashers, some so young that it may be necessary for Hash Cash to ask ‘Beer, soft drinks or milk?’ at future hashes. The Powder puff girls, Swiss Roll, and Shocking and Namron’s youngsters being some of our pack less troubled by advancing age.
Hard Wired and Begging for it were the official Hares and gave the briefing. With one or two late additions being added, the trail was approximately 7 Km in length, though if you forgo a detour around temple grounds you could knock off about 15 minutes worth of walking. Total anticipated completion time for a ‘normal’ CRHasher being 1hour 45 mins.
Only 2 Hashers took off running, Gorf and Doesn’t Matterhorn. The remainder of the pack paced themselves. With the FRBs already out of sight by the time we’d been uprooted and got to an upright position, it looked like there was little point in exerting ourselves too much. Anyway the trail promised plenty of flat ground and smooth paths to allow for that most important aspect of the CRH to take place – we could concentrate on conversation, not on finding the next foothold.
There was a little disagreement about where the initial trail went, this was due to the Hares’ system of setting the trail. Their labour-saving method of throwing thimblefuls of paper out from the back of a pick-up at 20 km/hr rendered the paper trail very thin on the ground. Not many helpful piles of paper today, we were on starvation rations. However, once on the right trail it was on such good paths that not even Tony the Lonely could have got lost.
After finding 5 different ways down to the sandy shore of the mighty NamKok, through the ever hopeful Beachfront food stallholders’ tables, and ignoring their kind offers of refreshments, we reunited as a horde and slogged off to the left along the beach. Bushwacker took full advantage of that wonderful combination of sun, ‘sea’ and sand – and a big stick that his boss kept throwing into the river for him.
Leaving the beach front we travelled on smooth paths past the fishing lakes complete with swan paddle boats. Here, I feel an opportunity had been missed; an armada of Hashers crossing the lake by pedal power, at the helms our intrepid captains just back from pirating on another body of water. What an adventure that would have been. Those of us who wear extra large Hash T-shirts would have had the advantage of wind-assisted sails.
The Hares had provided us with a treat to make up for this omission, however. They had got permission from the local temple, Wat Phra That Tham Doi Kong Khao, to allow us access to their grounds which let us enjoy a circular path around the base of the temple hill with it’s splendid cliffs and shaded areas. One cliff face came complete with a massive Hornets nest and a wild bee hive. We stood well back to admire these.
Everyone was keeping up a good pace despite the heat. The trail then took us briefly onto a road – where a couple of hashers sensibly restocked on liquids at a shop - before heading in a homeward direction past some very desiccated looking paddy fields. No verdant green patch- work to please the eye yet. Hurry up rains. The pack, split up a bit by pace, passed the old quarry, braved the nasty dogs and then went over the monsoon drain with a dribble of water in the bottom to get back to the beach via a small housing estate.
The usual very fast walkers ( VFWs not FRBs) including Titanic and Do it Yourself were back some time ahead of the main group.
Shocking came in well up the field, failing miserably to hold onto his historically acquired position of ‘sweeper’. Better luck next time.
Meanwhile, in an alternate universe….. the FRBs had been busy.
Gorf had apparently had time to acquire a partner and baby, complete the entire run twice AND ascend the temple hill in the time it took for most of us to get back to base in our reality. Doesn’t Matterhorn was not exactly a sluggard either.
The Circle
Shocking (Pat) managed eventually to get sufficient numbers of us to pay attention and form a fairly relaxed approximation of a circle i.e. we stayed where we’d landed but sort of turned towards him.
- He called the Hares into the circle and thanked them for their sterling efforts, and for the provisions of fresh fruit.
All three of them being ‘virgin Hares’ they had enjoyed the experience of finding and setting a trail, and were encouraging of other novices to come forward and try it for themselves. It was a very enjoyable Hash, well suited for the current weather conditions.
- A number of Hashers were given their Hash names:
Breaking all the rules (and why not), the first to receive her name had carefully selected it herself, so we welcomed ‘Winnie the Pooh’ into the circle.
The next Hasher was originally from Japan, but came to Thailand via USA. There were lots of suggestions, including one that alluded to his previous occupation as a ‘fake crab meat producer’, but the name that was eventually selected was ‘The Lost Samurai’.
Then – and I could have sworn they were pushed – into the circle came our last couple. Wearing a ‘Batman’ T-shirt, there were promptly re-named as “Badman’ and ‘Bobbin’.
- 5 ‘Virgin” Hashers were welcomed. One lady Hasher, obviously not yet immune to the demon drink, struggled to ‘down’ hers. After we had sung several verses of ‘drink it down, down, down’ at ever slower a tempo and she was still only on her second mouthful/burp, she was saved by the gallantry of our chairman. To spare her blushes (and prevent wastage) he quaffed the residue on her behalf. Such courtesy and self-sacrifice are seldom seen these days.
- Titanic and Wirgin Bruce were welcomed back from their adventures on the high seas where they had narrowly avoided a mid sea collision with a container ship in the Caribbean. We were pleased to see they had found their land legs again and both had completed the trail in good time. Bruce was also complimented on his ‘Shakespearean’ qualities when he was CRH scribe for many years. The current scribes were likened to J.K Rowling – I think this means our reports are long-winded, lacking in factual matter and have a poor grasp on reality. Apt description.
- Namron is going to be July’s Hare, he has promised to ‘moderate’ his trail to reflect the C.R Hashers’ capabilities. Thank goodness for that.
Business being completed and the mosquitoes out in ferocious force, we were sent off home into the gloaming.
Next meeting= 3rd Saturday of July at 4pm. Details to follow. Hare = Namron.
CRH committee:
Chairman – “Shocking”Pat
Hash Cash – “Doesn’t Matterhorn” Peter
Hash Beer – Titanic
Scribes – Ooh Matron (Jan) and Oddjob (Terry)
Namron (Jeff) maintains our official website at Chiang Rai Hash House Harriers, where you can find details of past and present Hashes, and information on other ‘local’ Hashevents.
Don’t forget to look at the rogues’ gallery of attached photos.
Finally ….
An attempt at a triathlon? Or ‘ How your trusty scribe managed to prove yet again that she’s two sandwiches short of a picnic’.
This being a truthful account of my June Hash outing, I wish to confess to the following …
After traversing the temple grounds, we emerged into a familiar landscape. Using dog-walking knowledge, I suggested to my companions a short-cut across the fields to pick up the trail again by the disused quarry and cut off some road work. This idea was seized upon with surprising zeal by Angela (especially as she was one of today’s Hares) and another Hasher. Since he was new to CRhash, we should take the blame for leading him off the straight and narrow.
Unfortunately, having clambered up and down ditch sides (who’d removed the blooming bamboo bridge?), we were spotted rejoining the trail by the sanctimoniously smug Oddjob in the company of Shocking and Wirgin Bruce, wagging ‘naughty, naughty’ fingers at us. Still, we’d gained at least 10 seconds. These 3 steamed away at a far greater rate of knots than we could achieve, leaving us wallowing in their wake. It was as though Bruce still had a following wind. As we fell further and further behind, a devilish idea took root. Why not grab the bikes from home as the return trail took us virtually past our house through the twilight zone of the Country Homes estate. We’d show them.
The bikes got us as far as 150 metres from the house before we realized 2 tyres had punctures. No problem, I would head back and get the truck.
Now here, any sensible person amongst you, gentle readers, will think, ‘Why didn’t she just take the bikes back that short distance, and carry on the trail on foot?’
No, the heat had got to me – and to a lesser extent must have also affected my companions, as they went along with what then transpired.
Back to the house, get truck. Drive truck to bikes/Hashers. Heave bikes onto truck. Drive slowly (albeit in air conditioned comfort towards the beach, sipping ice cold cokes.) Spot proper, morally upright, Hashers on road, drive excruciatingly slowly behind them to as near the meeting point as possible. Stop truck just out of sight of everyone, unload heavy useless bikes and –feigning a casual manner- push aforementioned ‘useless’ transportation to the end.
So there you have it, 3 modes of transport, a C.R.Hash triathlon.
It seemed a good idea at the time.
And Oddjob still got there before me.
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