Hareline

Upcoming Events

Mooloo's 800th, Te Kauri Lodge, Kawhia, 21-23 Mar 2003 [Rego form doc pdf]
Kids' Weetbix Triathlon, Hutt Rec., 30 March 2003. Talk to Oggy if you can help marshalling
Norwest H3 800th & AGM, Auckland, 05 Apr 2003
Aussie Nash Hash 2003, Kalgoorlie, WA, 18-20 Apr 2003 [http://www.hashgods.com/]
Nelson H3 555, St Arnaud, 04-06 Jul 2003
Mt Maunganui H3 777, Otawa Lodge, Te Puke, 25-27 Jul 2003
Interhash 2004, Cardiff, Wales, UK, 23-25 Jul 2004

Run Reports

Run 1433

TC's Eastbourne Job

Even by summer standards, last Monday from Burdan's Gate was fairly warm, and in terms of organisation continued a recent period of subtle transition in the Hash. Following DT's example the week before, TC put his shoulder to the wheel of hare responsibility, and the new regime became cemented of run reports being the job of the recipient of the prick of the week. We cooked on propane (see below), and strange new drinking vessel appeared (see further below).

Following Oggy's determination not become the permanent BBQ wallah, the device has received some attention over the last couple of weeks. Hood built a carry-crate for the thing and Pussy Pupply overhauled and rejetted it for heat that he said would melt the fucking plate. After bleeding the old gas out and getting a fill of propane that Professor Pussy Puppy had ordered, Hood turned up with a cylinder of the high-test stuff. Sausages were about to explode. Well, there was a colour change in the flame, but the pretty blue one wasn't as good to see with. The bloody thing still took half an hour to cook a steak, but Pussy Puppy has taken it home again for retuning and has promised fucking huge heat when we light up next week. Let it be noted that having managed to abdicate and in fact dissolve the position of beermeister, Hood does not wish to become BBQ wallah instead, and I'm guessing that Pussy Puppy doesn't either.

Presumeably to replace past breakages and envliven the DownDown cermonies, Oggy produced a new prick. He didn't say where he got it from, which is probably just as well, and the best that can be said for it is that is less destrucible than a glass job, but a lot less use. A drinking vessel with a hole at both ends was never going to be a great deal of use to the Hash. The shape was something else though, and there was a lot of comment on its potential application to various females, all mentioned by name.

This stupid device had four components: the shaft, which bulged into an impossibly inflated glans about 200 mm across; a removeable other end; a hosed-sized ejaculatory nozzle; and a flexible bloody straw. DownDowns were virtually impossible with it. I guess it held about a can and a half, but it really didn't matter as the contents always ended up either dribbling down the victim's clothes or onto the ground.

Oh yes, there was a run, and it was mercifully short by TC's standards. I thought it was a distinct possibility we would end up in Wainuiomata or at least Gracfield, both of which have happened before. Instead, we had a pleasant run though the bush, great views, and a piss stop that was missed by many even though it was about 100 m off the on home trail and plainly visible from the hills above.

Most runners and the growing band of walkers had actually perceived that it was a fine evening, opting to wear no more than T shirts and shorts, and they were probably pretty warm in that. Dobber though, turned up prepared for the worst weather the planet could possibly offer, dressed in full poly prop for the run. If only Scott had been so prepared. For the On On, disguised as a visitor from Lapland, Dobber tried to build a snowman but had to be satisfied with pinching my steak from the BBQ. The spindley little legs poking out from under a mountain of kapok, thinsulate, assorted fluff and Gortex made him look like a costuming mistake from the Teletubbies.

This is where we get back to the big black thing and why I am writing this crap. Awarded the prick by Goodyear for the appalling crime of sitting down on the run (this from a man that smokes on the run), Hood was passed the vessel and proceeded to suck furiously on the rude end. Nothing much was coming out until High Heels removed the screw cap from the other end whereupon the contents immediately emptied themselves past my face and down the inside front. Terrific.

Still, the keg stood up pretty well and so did most of those present. Thanks for a good one TC.

OnOn

Hood

Run 1434

The 03/03/03 Run

Monday's run started off better than expected. Myself, Sproggy and Bubbles had shared a bottle of tequila on the way out. Of course the first few drinks tasted bloody awful, but once the taste buds had been put out of action it appeared to be not bad.

So after some brief instructions from the hare which I can't remember any of, off we set. It is great to get at least one summer run which involves a water crossing especially the Hutt river. Most of the pack crossed at least twice apart from a few guys that didn't want to get their feet wet, they may have been worried that their shoes would have been mistaken for new ones and risk a down-down.

Believe it or not through all the alcohol I consumed on Monday night I got pinged by a very vigilant hashman who thought my scabby two year old shoes looked a bit new so I had to do a down down (Bastard).

Anyway thats enough moaning. After crossing the river the pack was getting pretty spread out so after some solo running and trail finding I ended up at a check at the bottom of Hayward. I checked left into the reserve and while checking for trail in the under growth tripped over what I thought was a stick but in fact turned out to be an ancient Maori artifact. I thought it should be handed back to the appropriate people (Modess) so I carried it for the rest of the run.

After what seemed like a very long time we arrived at the Piss Stop the same time as the rain. Drinks were good and of course everyone was in good spirits as it had taken a bit of running to get there. I did have a bit of a laugh thinking that River Rat would be driving home in a bath.

So after the piss stop it was a short run back to the on-on. As I recall all the down-downs were brilliantly thought out. The PoW went to myself for carrying a shovel most of the way around the run. Good call.

On-on.....

Highheels