At least we didn't ford the Bagmati!

Towed, using his superior DFID negotiating skills with the rain gods, got the valley well dried out and the Bagmati down to a fordable depth before the run. After last week's swim, the pack was afraid of any one-upmanship on the part of the hare.

While the drugged Grand Master slept, Keeled Over did an excellent job of signing in many returnees, virgins and newcomers. Finally we got off a little late and headed west and down, to check one on the main trail between Bungamati and Pharsidol. Paper headed west on two parallel spurs, The Fox on the one to the north and the rest on the southerly spur. The rest won and The Fox ended up mucking through mud on the shore of the Bagmati while the pack worked its way downstream to check 2 at a brick kiln and holding check 3 at the Bagmati suspension bridge. By then we were well spread out but Towed let the runners loose while the walkers caught up and then started back up to the chariots. The runners headed up and up through corn fields to check 4 and again up to check 5 at a T junction. Again there were parallel trails. Again The Fox was on the wrong one, while Run Crafty led the pack on and up to another check at another T junction on the ridge. The normal way to Champi and waiting vehicles for a long ride back would have been to the right. Towed took us left and down to a stream, and then up the stream bed between almost vertical banks. At first we carefully tried to keep shoes dry, but soon were simply splashing along a cool and pretty gorge. Finally the left bank opened - a bit - and we were able to scramble up a mud slide, trample crops, and find our way to a trail leading to a familiar lookout and holding check 7. It was a great spot to watch cursing hashers struggle upwards. Towed graciously let the pack run while most of the runners were still scattered on the slope. We took the regular trail which swung left and up to the Champi road next to Slow Drip's house. Still no bus to take us home! A long home run got us back to the cold beer, warm soft drinks, and water.

After a long wait to get most of the runners in, we started a short circle, welcoming returnees, newcomers and virgins. By then Towed arrived and we congratulated the hares on an excellent run -- with all the usual complaints ignored. There were many wankers whom we ignored to save time. We need a NO WANKING sign for virgins. (The sign should have a graphic description of the term.)

We awarded those who admitted to feeding leeches.

We wished many happy returns of the day to Towed on his birthday, who proved that old age is no barrier to covering that course three times in 24 hours. Many middle aged people half his age could not manage the course. We thank the bakers of two birthday cakes.

We congratulated Sona and his daughter on the arrival of their son/brother.

Then there was the Hashit to present:

Although we did not have to sell Sock Sucker and Kirstie to pay their dues, we did have to put up with no table, no bottle openers, warm soft drinks and no noise from Rotter. He got the first nomination.

One of Towed's little admirers suggested him for the award, this being his birthday and he being a "nice man" (sic). There seemed to be more than a little confusion here. The Hashit is NOT a coveted award.

A voice vote was recorded, and although Towed had a few supporters, the drugged, sleeping, refusing to face his hash duties, Grand Master, Rotter, won hands down. Both children were to accept the award for him. Kirstie refused, but Sock Sucker complied, drinking only coke this time.