The event began for some with a 2.45PM rendezvous at the Malabar to carpool and have a virgin follow on her souped up Honda CRV, sporting full leathers and and a full-face concrete-strength helmet (safety first). The car-poolers were pleasantly surprised to find the way to Doi Hang was literally littered with easy to spot hash signs at every possible bend. Driving comments from the GM and the writer alluded to a possible fact that in 3 years they had never experienced such an easy pre-hash route to follow. A credit to whomever made the signs and their placement with attention to detail. On arrival at the spacious grounds of the temple's shaded community space, which was to later be home to a jolly circle, we discovered that the immaculateness of the hash setting came with a price. After a morning of trail setting with only the world wide web for assistance, the hares - One Hung Low - think the Dude from The Big Lebowski who was on the Beers early and Many Men A Night - think Julian Moore's Maude Lebowski character (research for the uninitiated) were a bit testy with each other over the more exact and perfect means and methods to satisfy the art of hash-trail setting. Their professions of nurse and electrician involve daily matters of life and death and thus they are used to taking their responsibilities seriously. The ice was firmly broken when MMAN explained to us that there would be a long trail marked with a self raising floured johnson or a short trail indicated by a chalked pair of breasts that resembled more a broken heart. Some people blushed, some smiled, some laughed and some just wanted to get on the road. Latecomers. the New Jersey family, were the only folks who couldn't follow the best marked pre-hash route that mice or men had ever set. With a cry of 'Hail to the chief, he's the one we all say hail to!' we were off. The FRBs, Frozen Ring and Pussy Rainbow, did the hard yards of searching and destroying the false trails in the stifling heat whilst chatting about gun control, how drunkenness may change your behaviour and other world changing topics. It was a lovely jog through the countryside with nice scenery, hills, native vegetation, water features, small cash crop farms, friendly and smiley locals saying "good" and offering water and was very jog-able compared to the last trail. Again terrific work, by the hares in that they used three types of bio-degradable substances to mark the trail in flour, chalk and paper. It really was a meticulously cute and pretty way of trail setting that complemented the surrounds - some may consider it a work of art.
After a final sprint, the Front Running Bastards (missing three as one was the hare, another is initiating a Brexit resistance movement in the UK and yet another has a bun in the oven) had earned their Lagers. To some surprise they were followed closely by the awesome new hashcash Wicked Witch, who had ran in the last leg, and the fellow from North America's toxic waste dump and son, who were amongst the afore-mentioned late arrivalists. The walkers strolled in pretty much as one, continuing their 4 km/per hour pace. It was nice to see Kiwinee and Yellow Beaver walking their puppy, named the Prince of Barkness, I don't know what sex it is but maybe for the May Hash I might bring my girl dog for procreation purposes if it's an unfixed boy or my boy dog for procreation purposes if it's an unfixed girl - or not (fixed that is). The circle began with the 20-odd odd hashers reclined on Barcelona chairs actually arranged in a circle for once. Comments for the seated hares on the hash were generally favourable as would be expected. Virgins were Jools from the Netherlands, an amiable young single gent who who ran a dive store at Ao Nang, Krabi (lovely place) and Ally from Cali, who is a wizened lecturer at MFU or CRRU or maybe both, with a mean set of wheels. Named were the Joysy Crue patriarch The Exhibitionist, who regaled us with his most embarrassing moment of stripping butt naked in front of med. students as a model because he was bored, underpaid and overworked or sick of the uncomfortable, daggy smock he had to don. Also named was the matriarch, Armpit of America, who in no way reminded us of Snooki from Jersey Shore. The first born male was named by the second born female as Super Annoying and said female named herself Shart the Fart.
Takes It To The Limit's son, Alexandre, also named himself All Day Long - uh huh. What a joy it is to have children join us at these events. We are forced to set the bar on family friendly hash behaviour and language, but like children themselves, can't help but push the barriers. Thank you to our models for helping flog our excellent ebony and ivory Hash Zone death by suicide metal shirts. I wear mine out regularly as it is striking, slimming, a talk-piece and of excellent quality but the hole on the top was obviously designed for someone with a smaller head than I. After consuming as much Beer as was socially acceptable before dark and with hungry hipposwaiting to be fed. a large quorum left to on on at the Malabar for home made Chicken and Margherita Pizzas. Some drank Mojitos, peppered with mint from the plant in the garden out the back, some drank Beer, some drank Tequila free Margaritas, some drank authentic Margaritas, some got high on their own supply, some danced, some sang, some shot shit,some VJ'd, some got lucky and eventually all went home having had a darn fine day. No hash in April as usual because of the toxic smoke, Songkran celebration, teacher holidays and the repressive heat but we'll be back in May with a hash hared by The Exhibitionist, Armpit of America, Super Annoying and Shart the Fart.
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