Welp, I appear to have failed pretty fucking spectacularly in my previous promise to have write-ups done more promptly, which was nothing if not predictable. This is largely for two reasons: straight after the September Hash, I went away to Nepal for what was effectively a 20-day-long, over 200km mega-hash, around the Annapurna mountains, one of the highest altitude trekking routes in the world, which I shall include in this write up.
Because fuck you, it *was* a hash. And I'm the Scribe, after all - Frozen Ring saw fit to make me dictator of this page, so to our mutual misfortune, here I am.
The second reason is due to my memes being somewhat weak. And me being a bit lazy and not getting my shit together. Which is three reasons, not two . . . shite.
But in my defence, I have been reading Jordan Peterson a fair amount.
Anyway, the Hash in September, being a long time ago, is somewhat sketchy in my memory. However, the great thing about having no one bother to turn out to your Hash back in March is that you get to use the exact same trail again, and no one'll notice. It was a decent affair of 10 or so people, using the trail I found at Mae Fah Luang uni, featuring not one, but *two* whole lakes. Given how badly my memory has fucked up, I'll let Illinoing Swamp-arse's pics speak for themselves.
Not much else I remember, except for the fact that Emma said something about the length of the trail, and I added the truism that it's not about the length, it's about what you do with it.......
Anyway, enough faggoting around from me, here are the pictures.
Anyway, on to the second out of three Hash reports. It all began in Kathmandu, amidst the chaos, dirt and bustle of Kathmandu, whose citizens very likely stare enviously at Bangkok on a regular basis, thinking that traffic-wise, the motherfuckers of BKK don't know how good they have it.
After that, it was two days of seeing sights, such as the Boudhanath Stupa, and ample sampling of Sherpa Red, a cheap locally-made craft beer, modelled on British bitter ale.
I then, after getting my permits, squeezed myself into a crowded minivan, for a hungover 18-hour drive to Besisahar, and then another drive to the first point on the trail, wondering quite what the fuck I'd signed myself up for, wondering if I'd made the decision to do the whole trail without guide or porter.
But the thing basically turned out to be a very long hash, on one straight trail, with easy to find markers everywhere. It was an average of 16km every single day, over 20 days, which I started out on alone but met some fellow hashers and formed a crew six days in, at Manang, which is where it starts getting higher than Snoop Dogg in Colorado, and many people take an acclimatisation day.
The crew ended up being a motley crew of a Limey (me - the Americans call us that, the Aussies call us Poms, and the Froggies call us "Roast Beefs"), a Paddy, a Viking from Stockholm, a Kraut, and a couple of Yanks from Utah - who somehow did the whole thing, with all the highs, lows, sleeping on overcrowded mountain guesthouse floors, and swimming in glacial lakes on top of mountains, and ended it in Pokhara still enjoying everyone's company.
But the thing basically turned out to be a very long hash, on one straight trail, with easy to find markers everywhere. It was an average of 16km every single day, over 20 days, which I started out on alone but met some fellow hashers and formed a crew six days in, at Manang, which is where it starts getting higher than Snoop Dogg in Colorado, and many people take an acclimatisation day.
The crew ended up being a motley crew of a Limey (me - the Americans call us that, the Aussies call us Poms, and the Froggies call us "Roast Beefs"), a Paddy, a Viking from Stockholm, a Kraut, and a couple of Yanks from Utah - who somehow did the whole thing, with all the highs, lows, sleeping on overcrowded mountain guesthouse floors, and swimming in glacial lakes on top of mountains, and ended it in Pokhara still enjoying everyone's company.
We debated for a long time as to what to call ourselves - but the name was provided at Tilicho Base Camp, the last stop before Tilicho Lake, the glacier-fed lake which we, on getting there, decided it'd be a reyt idea to have a swim in.
A crazy Spanish guy whod met and chatted to Johan (the Viking) back in the capital, provided the answer: "You are from Kath-Mother-Fucker?!".
And there it was. The Kath-Motherfuckers. A journey like few others I've embarked on before, a 20 day long high-altitude hash, and like any hash, all the great milestones, the end point in Pokhara, the last stop before the end at Ghorepani, the first stop over Thoroung La Pass at Muktinath; every single one was celebrated by a shit ton of beer, especially in Pokhara at the end, where Sherpa ale was available in abundance.
Anyways, here's the remainder of the pictures:
Anyway, the November hash was another one to remember, a great trek around Santiburi Golf Course, attended by the highest number of people I've seen in a very long time, which may or may not have been because there was a goodly amount of amazing food on offer, prepared by Wild Woman.
And then unfortunately my memory ends. Which is probably another motivation to get my arse in gear and start writing these things sooner after the hash. But any write-up is better than nowt, I guess.
On On!
And then unfortunately my memory ends. Which is probably another motivation to get my arse in gear and start writing these things sooner after the hash. But any write-up is better than nowt, I guess.
On On!
