Hareline

Upcoming Events

Pubcrawlers' Annual Pub Golf, Speight's Bar, 1.30pm Saturday 7 Dec 2002
Pubcrawlers' Xmas Run, Platform 9, 6pm Thursday 12 Dec 2002
NZ Nash Hash 2003, Mt Maunganui, 25-27 Jan 2003
Mooloo's 800th, Te Kauri Lodge, Kawhia, 21-23 Mar 2003 [Rego form]
Interhash 2004, Cardiff, Wales, UK, 23-25 Jul 2004

Run Reports

Run 1406

Battle of Waterloo Run?

A typical Lower Hutt Waterloo circus, and a typical cold winter night, at least there was no rain. By circus I mean that the route was so predictable that the walkers were able to keep ahead of the main pack. Just as well as there was a surprise stop on route, more of which shall be said later.

The run followed the usual trail through the shopping centre, then north to past service enterprises, pausing in front of McDonald's, then out onto the river embankment. Check at Ewing's. Up and down over the embankment several times to next bridge (forget it's name, probably Ewings). Next leg, the in and about the Civic Centre. Then followed a tikki tour of the streets and alleyways of Woburn, finally a boggy track beside a stream to emerge on Knight's Road. At this point, our honest horn, NUMBNUTS, was observed taking the walkers down a side road, needless to say, not on trail, but obviously to some know destination. Meanwhile the more earnest hounds made a large loop to return to NUMBNUTS side road, which led to the abode of that long absent hound HARDON. From the reluctance to extract him, (who knows why?) we were not expected, but a pleasant surprise. The gathering at this Piss-stop was the largest I have seen for a long time, and all there with good timing. Well done Badger.

Home was by way of a stroll through a school to Waterloo Rd and Mildews garage, where there was a good supply of sausages as an entree to whatever delicacy each had for themselves.

The down-down session seemed to be an Oggy family benefit, far to hard for others to follow all the reasons, except for visitor PORTALOO from Tauranga who had found some way to distract Sproggy all weekend. HARDON also had a drink from the visitor boot. The Bubbles Award went to GOODYEAR and Prick to DEEPTHROAT. All in all a good turnout, good company, and yet another great Hash Monday night, thanks to Mildew.

Run 1420

The Hellish Run - Sourpuss's Mexican Wave

Turn up in something red, he said. 666, it's the Devil's number, so come dressed to suit. Amazing how many people can't read, or prefer the big ignore - although on closer inspection, Bubs and Sprog did have devilish pictures on their T-shirts. And G-String too. Some red shirts, Tassy Devils' hats, a modest effort, except for Super Og in his red cape. Idiot.

Parking on the road below the path to Massey Memorial at Point Halswell the bringers of the beer and BBQ were cursing - it's a long carry up to the On On site. So we didn't bother, went up to see the lie of the land, to find sun, shelter and a bunch of seemingly intent-on-bonking Chinese. Ignoring them inscrutably, we gathered around, DT had a piss, some bared their bums, others hid their bags discretely in the bush with everyone else wondering out loud what they were doing, and waited until 6.45 when, since there was no sign of the hare, we started out. Uphill, of course, to a check where Rangoon called us down to a false trail. The real trail went up to a gun emplacement, soon to be refurbished, and a giant "PS" and no PiSS - no matter how hard we searched (Tripod and G-String being the most diligent). Too early for the Hare, apparently.

More uphill until we spotted a wreck in some ruins - Sourpuss back from his exploits in Coon Can - or is it Can Coon? - where he won over the locals with his parsimony and command of Spanish. Red stuff was dispensed - cherry brandy in Lindauer, very Mexican - and the back-markers were allowed to catch up.

The next stage saw a nasty false trail around the prison before galloping downhill and up a bank into the bush. Here things went wrong - a check saw two callers splitting the pack, most going downhill, but we crusty and experienced older Hashers maintaining height. Why the fuck Townplanner didn't call the false trail I don't know, but our cunning saw us head downhill without trail on Nevay to the bottom of the gully where the pack appeared to be heading. But no pack, no trail. So the six of us bush-bashed up to the road again to find the bulk of the pack (also known as the fat bastards) at the PS laughing as we emerged hot sweaty and dirty while quaffing that Mexican beer that has to have a lemon in it to give it any flavour. The mislead and sweating G-String only just made it before the last bottle was cut - with Teapot and DT going on about having had three each, he doesn't know how lucky he was.

Down a cliff, said the Hare after being mercilessly messed about with by the pack returning their bottles one-by-one, only after he had shut the chilly-bin each time. Bastards. Funny though - he never twigged that it was deliberate. The cliff paid us back, with Oggy trying to catch Sproggy and being persued by Orang Utan (Wong Way) Boon. Sproggy won, just, on his arse. To find each of us presented with an individually crafted ceramic Tequila cup, stolen from Kirks, salt, lemon and the drink itself. Mrs Armadildo immediately phoned to check that he was still standing.

Then the long trek back to the cars, where various were coerced into carrying BBQ and keg up to the memorial. The BBQ was lit, Sourpuss fined, visitors (G-String and Nipple-Pink, and Sourpuss's double) also fined and had their wallets lightened by Pisspot, Sourpuss was awarded the Bubbles award, Sproggy was fined for stupidity, then drank Oggy's fine which was awarded by Sproggy for passing on that gene (as Oggy was driving and gave it to Sproggy for being so stupid), then Sourpuss was fined, Bubbles was fined for not writing the trash twice, and the POW went to Knob Roy, for a stupid joke, or something. Then Sourpuss nicked my but by this time he was back to his now rare incoherence. Good to see.

After having drunk light beer all night because I was driving, at 9.30 Wong Way offered to drive me home. Bastard - why couldn't he have told me much earlier?

Carrying the BBQ back down in the dark, with a staggering Knob Roy attempting to light the way, was an interesting experience.

Oggy