Thirty-six seasoned hashers and expectant virgins assembled by the Dhakshinkali road, just beyond the cement factory, for the 1182th running of the Himalayan Mixed Hash. There were expressions of outrage at the unusually punctual arrival of famous latecomer Apple but a generally convivial atmosphere prevailed as all gathered around expectantly for the pre-run briefing ritual.

A murmur of apprehension spread around the circle as hare Krishna informed the hash that one of Nepal's leading marathon runners had been involved in laying the trail for the day's hash. Our friend from Jumla, Hari, was in prime condition after just returning from a lung-bursting eighth position in the Jungfrau Marathon. A few of the less hardy hashers gazed apprehensively up at the forbidding slopes of Champadevi. The hash also welcomed Laxmi, who had finished fourteenth in the same race. The sense of foreboding increased with the news that the route involved crossing a couple of full-monsoon-spate streams.

With a trumpeting chorus of "on-on" the hare led the pack off to the west of the road to start an hour and a half expedition along the highways and by-ways of Chobhar Bhutkel VDC's rice fields. The long run to the first check saw everyone stretched out along the bright green landscape of ripening rice. But the stretch soon became too much and the pack divided into two with the 'hares' (who they? . . . oh dear . . . I fear this is going to become utterly confusing - GM) at the front and a group of 'tortoises' behind. Several hashers at the back of the 'hare pack' objected to being classified as hares and passed the time of day wondering which kind of animal lay half-way between a hare and a tortoise? Maybe a hairy tortoise?

At check number two the tortoises were directed north along a short-cut route. This allowed them to arrive back at the finish ahead of the hares to fully justify this writer's abuse of the well known fable of the hare and the tortoise.

Most punters managed to avoid soiling their shorts in spite of the muddy conditions, several crossings of fast flowing streams, and loose bowels. Many suspect that Roadrunner only just avoided this fate with a quick dash off to hide behind the tall rice stalks below check three. The most notable exception was the desperate attempt at mud-swimming by Chris in his bid to keep strictly to the paper trail. He not only won a muddied lower half but also sank into the mire up to his elbows. A notable achievement! A number of older and possibly wiser participants spotted a handy diversion which avoided the squelching quagmire.

Several false trails misled the frontrunners, including at one stage a cunningly discreet diversion to the left behind a house. Shortly after, the paper began to lead the hare pack back eastwards, meandering up and down a pine tree clad ridge and across the Bhosan Khola and back through the rice fields to the home run arrow.

After the tailenders had finally trudged in the Grand Master called order to the usual furious munching of crisps and swilling of beer. There was a unanimously positive reaction to the day's hash. The run had been blessed with excellent weather conditions, soft going underfoot and a bemused reception from the locals. Mad Cow awarded it a score of 9.6. Virgins Rani, Indra, Arendt, and Leah took part in the usual consummation ceremony but showed a limited ability to imbibe beer. They were followed by visitors Duncan and Bob, in town for the ILO and Leyla's dinner parties. The GM then awarded down downs to Apple for turning up early and to Rodent for complaining about most things. He then found himself filling a mug for wife Durga, who had been pushed into the centre for some unbeknown reason, most probably because she needed a beer quickly. Jzxxczy and Mrxccychncvithsky got their turn for being unpronounceable. The GM and Mad Cow showed off their broken shoes as the circle murmured in pleasurable anticipation of the arrival of new footwear. Finally, Chris got the Hashit for his novel form of forward locomotion, which the GM adjudged to be well below normal hash depths.

Formal proceedings having been completed social drinking continued for half an hour more as the sated hashers emptied the beer box whilst admiring a magnificent red sky to the east. This was odd, for most believed bin Laden's hideout to be west of Kathmandu.

On-On

Steve "Keeled Over" Keeling