January 2017 Write-Up.

Four score and seven days ago, this scribe was drafted into the position on the Mis-Management committee, along with choirmaster(bater) and GM for February.

In keeping with the sacrosanct traditions of the aptly-named Mis-Management committee, he elected to eschew his usual Germanic efficiency with doing things, and leave it until the very last minute, writing what will likely be a patchy recollection of the previous month’s events, the night before heading on a road trip to a Japanese hippie mash-fest in Chiang Dao, his mostly-packed bag behind him, a couple of cans of Cheers Rice Berry Ale by the side of his laptop, pilfering his faded memories for material, and the notes taken by the previous scribe, who has been gallantly doing his job for him.

The setting was the Boomerang rock climbing place near the Buddha caves. The scribe was the first to arrive, and sat down under a tree to read a book (Sam Harris “The End of Faith”). After several minutes went by, more and more people started to arrive, prompting him to temporarily cease his learnings on the deleterious effects of religion upon humanity.

As the minutes went by, the scribe noticed something unusual happening . . . people were coming. That in itself was not a surprise. What was a surprise was the fact that there were more, and more, and then still more, which could perhaps be put down to the fact that this year, the Mis-Managers of the Chiang Rai Hash have figured out that Facebook exists, and can be used to tell people about things that are happening, things like this (to borrow a phrase from Charlie Brooker).

After the usual explanation of the Hash rules, to the larger than usual amount of newcomers we were off, with some newcomers attempting to follow the scribe off to the side, until they realised that he wasn’t following the trail, just going behind a tree for a piss. First, the trail took us up, and up, and up, with views over the pineapple fields, and then down again, hunting like mad for a trail involving fairly limited paper, and lots of shredded leg skin from the pineapple leaves. However, the views, all agreed, were no less than stunning.

Could be said to be a rather difficult trail for all concerned, or more so than average – one can only hope that all the newcomers won’t be deterred from coming to their second, and then their third, hashes – so we can give them their appropriately-inappropriate names for their troubles. Eventually, our meanderings took us to the side of the river, and involved a long, hard, and for a long time fruitless search for the paper trail – paper that appeared to have been moved.

This, perhaps, would be what happens if you set a trail across a place where there are huge diggers and earth-movers going back and forth at all hours. Eventually, we came back to the main road, and it appeared to be a pelt back straight down the road back to the climbing camp (or so this scribe thought, from many, many hours of previous trekking in this region. As a consequence of this, and not turning left and going across country, therefore, he came first yet again. Coming first is, after all, rather easy when you cheat, however inadvertently.

After a longer than usual wait due to the sheer numbers of people there, it was time for the circle, with representatives from all over the world, all ages, all nationalities, Chiang Rai live-ers as well as backpackers who were here for the day, including attendees at the previous weekend’s reggae festival in Pai. Lots of people were also marching in solidarity with the Women’s March in Washington against Trump. There were hashers from London (Skylark), Chiang Rai Hash alumnus (alumna?) Baby Burner, and plenty of new names given, including Takes It Up The Butt (who, contrary to Pussy Rainbow’s report, is really named Shaquita).

One unfortunate bit of business was the truckload of first-timers who came very late, and whose first circle involved getting their inevitable menacing and beasting by Spiritual Advisor Shocking, armed with a cane like a schoolmaster from the days of yore, and a rendition of “They Ought to be Publicly Pissed On” by the choirmaster(bater).

A major highlight of the circle was the paying of tribute to the departing Chiang Rai hash veterans and hares for this month, Cop Out and Agent Orange. Another one that springs to mind, is the excellent new Hash shirts designed by Frozen Ring, which are, as our God-Emperor would say, *the* very best shirts, simply fantastic. Believe me, it’s true. Black, sleek, and modeled on “Thrash Zone”, a reknowned thrash metal/punk album.

Excellent event, excellent turn-out, let’s just hope the current mis-managers can keep this going throughout the next year.