Trashing the Valley since 1979
HIMALAYAN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Grand Master: David Potter - tel: 570809 -e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org
Himalayan Mixed Hash Run No.1183
22 September 01
Hares: Roadrunner and Jitendra Location: Pepsi Cola Factory, Airport Road, Thimi
Roadrunner's Final Fling (for the time being)
Himalayan Hashers prefer dust to mud. This is the only conclusion that can be drawn from the sudden climb in numbers after what appeared to be the end of the monsoon. 46 gathered at Roadrunners favourite (only?) spot next to that famous facility for the production of Maoist good-time fizz.
While collecting paper earlier in the week Roadrunner had confided to the GM that he and joint hare Jitendra planned something long. Not knowing this, and starting from one of Kathmandu's flatter parts, the pack set off with the usual carefree abandon with no thoughts of saving themselves for later. Hopes that RR might have finally been tempted to go along the runway were quickly dashed as the trail went off east on the old Thimi road. But the Manohara bridge is still closed for repairs so there was a quick turn upriver. Check 1 was on the right bank from where Krishna picked up paper on the left one. There was no bridge in between and the river wide and deep. Things at the front continued on north at amazingly high speed for the present HHH crowd before a climb onto the Thimi plateau to holding check 3. Forgot where 2 was. Then a wander around roughly northwards until a descent to the new Manohara bridge and check 5. By this time the circus had come a LONG WAY, and the beer was still lost in the hazy distance. It took a long time for the rump to appear, a wait relieved, or made considerably worse depending on your point of view, by Spare Part's grabbing a nanglo from a couple of gobsmacked local ladies and trying to winnow the rice in it. Even the wind drew breath.
Realizing that special measures were needed to get everyone back in an approximately upright position with feet at the bottom, RR showed most of the pack a direct path home while the few front people did a paperless loop north before being directed west for a long run in through the dust and mayhem of airport construction works. It's odd but they now seem to be taking the earth back to where Pheasant Plucker had removed it from. The GM remembers check 6, and 8, but no-one came across 7. At the finish superfit Hari Rockwithyou just managed to cut the throttle in time to come to a halt by the cars. For the rest it was a matter of shaking the tank hard for that last bit of onwards juice. Congratulations to Sideways, 69, Jitendra, and the GM for being the only people to complete the whole trail.
The exhausted and broken circle managed to summon up reserves to celebrate a run which was described by all as, . . well . . long. Mad Cow, sporting glued shoes, gave a 9.7 - as reasonable a score as any. Roadrunner stayed in the centre for a leaver's drink - for he is off on a three-month visa to the UK. We wish him well but are concerned for the health of British hashers, especially in the Plucker's locality, as he has indicated an intention to continue current hash habits. Virgins Ricardo, Mukhiya, Michael, Pujan, and Simon were caroused. Mr.Malinovski promised that Simon was definitely his only daughter left to be presented to the hash. Mukhiya came back in with new wife Indri, formerly Clendon. The circle again raised a chant for virgins. They were followed by returnee hare Jitendra, who had sensibly stayed (well) at the back of the day's procession.
There was talk of Roadrunner getting the Hashit for desertion, but eventually agreement was unanimous that MacPole had the stronger claim. He had walked the course with the support of another pole having done his back in when taking up position for his yoga exercises!
Darkness brought the proceedings to an end, but not before the momos, wine, cheese, and biscuits supplied by Leyla had been devoured. Many thanks to her, but this blatant attempt to turn the Hash into a mere cocktail party shall not succeed!
Oh, . . . the picture. The GM forgot his camera this week so here is a recent shot of a beer-flecked Jimmy having just converted to Islam-Lite in Syria.