It was wonderful to come back to the Himalayan Hash and to be selected, against stiff opposition, to be the guest trash scribe for the momentous occasion of HHHH Run 1500. You bastards must be desperate for literate hashers, as the best you could then find to do Trash 1501 was Keeled Over! (and I've seen what he's written, so I know what I'm talking about!)

The Prelude

After a pleasant, if warmish, run down by car, including a stop over at Riverside Springs to refresh my memory (I once stopped there in 2002 to find half of my old Hash in Bandung (Indonesia) there on their way home from a Goa Interhash). Other parts of the body were refreshed in a more practical way and we carried on to reach Bandipur in the late afternoon. For a while there was no-one else around until Jo arrived and kept us company in a beer or two. Eventually the GM's truck rolled in and, sometime afterwards, the buses. Confusion reigned in true hash mismanagement style but eventually everyone staggered off in the dark to their respective lodgings.

Saturday dawned and there were film crew everywhere. The GM's rabid hound (or should that be the rabid GM's hound?) took exception to them on frequent occasions (and, during the course of the weekend to various others, in some cases responding to the provocation that an unusual dog attracts (I've been there before with Mozzy's Mum). Keeled also took exception to the film crew, but in not quite such an obvious manner. After a wander through the village to see the sights, noting carefully the location of all the paper, we eventually congregated outside the Mountain Resort for the start of Run 1500. However, the film crew needed a briefing on the history of the hash which Keeled and I had to give to the best of our singularly (surely 'doubly' - GM) limited abilities. Eventually we ran out of things to say and the GM was forced to call the circle to order.

The Run

The Hares were called into the middle and gave a truly unmemorable briefing. There were ten checks of which some were holding. False trails would abound. The walkers were to follow Tibetgal who had been co-opted at the last minute. First paper was off at the far end of the Tundikhel.

Not a great deal of confusion in finding Check 1, as those who had walked up from the village reported no paper on the road, so we headed up the hill past the hospital. Yogi (no, for the record it was The Scholars, followed by me - GM) found the paper from Check 1 fairly quickly but the rest of the pack seemed to be well behind, lured by the earlier sight of paper through the main street of the village. I think that we lost The Scholars at this point, never to be seen again on the run. However, Yogi,s nose for paper took us off to the west and he was kind enough to stop and let me through just at the point where the paper became even more indistinct and I went off down the wrong trail, but soon managed to cut back to find the paper at Check 2. Unfortunately I didn't see the check and carried on along the track looking for paper. Meanwhile Yogi had found the right trail, Check 2, and was on his way to Check 3.

By the time I found my way back, the whole pack had overtaken me. There ensued a long climb up to the north and Holding Check 3 and then a further climb, initially led by Keeled until he took a false trail. Meanwhile Yogi had been off along another falsie along the cliff top, taking most of the pack with him (actually no, it was only me and Rubberlegs - GM) but eventually the trail was found, and a super one it was, contouring through the forest and then downhill to Check 4. By the equivalent stage on a Dhaka hash, we'd have had 12 checks, all holding, climbed or descended a maximum of one metre and been drinking beer for ten minutes.

The trail continued down the slippery hill to the sodding waiting film crew and then along the road to Holding Check 5 where the film crew followed us. I now know how Posh & Becks feel with the constant attention of cameras; you couldn't even fart at this stage without it being recorded. We had to wait ages for the stragglers to guide in the Gee Mizz before we were allowed to check it out. Given that there was only the road to follow, this wasn't exactly a challenging check, but I've always maintained that the trail should be laid straight out of holding checks; it seems pointless to bring everyone together and then immediately split them up again [ed. Get on with it!].

So Keeled and Raj, I think, and I set off along the road to find the paper which pretty soon turned off down a grass track and was lost after a few hundred metres. We'd gone too far, but to what would have been a great four-way check, and had to back track then fight our way past all the BMWs (Back Marking Wankers). Clearly pain thresholds were now being encountered as I have little recall of what happened between Checks 6 to what I believe to have been Holding Check 8. I do recall meeting a couple of bunches of tourists.

Checking apathy was setting in at this stage. Lazy bastards were offered a shortcut but true men, like me and Rotter, were having none of this and we set off back down the track, soon finding paper heading further down towards what looked like a really good running trail. However, after we had got down a bit, the dreaded X was observed by Keeled (ger off it, was not observed by either Keeled or you; it was me who called you back - GM) who had followed us and it seemed to be time to climb all the way back up. I decided that this wasn't for me and carried on. There was great logic in this choice - the trail may have been diametrically opposed to the direction in which the beer lay, the village was clearly visible above us, but it went DOWNHILL. After about half a mile it started to go steeply downhill and I decided discretion was the better part of valour and headed slowly back up hill. A bit of judicious trail finding got me to the bottom end of the village at much the same time as the Back Hare.

Just when I thought it was over and we had an easy run in down the road and in to the On-In (clearly I hadn't paid the slightest attention to the briefing or counted the checks) that bloody Dominatrix of a Gee Mizz (and I have heard her called a lot worse) called us off to the left and up an endless trail of steps up the Teen Dhara hill (this is rubbish, Tin Dhara was passed at about check 3 - GM). Doggy Style tried to encourage me with the bribe that there was beer at the next check but, rounding a corner, I had just seen how much higher the rest of the pack were and, given that we were well above the On-In and there was beer there also (nothing to do with an impending heart attack and the distinction of being the second person to die on an HHHH run) I told Lao lover, just up ahead, that I was obscenely knackered and was going back.

Check 10 was apparently a bit further on; I'm not sure which was the beer check and, to be honest, don't care. Having quickly found paper once I got down to the road, I thought I'd just follow it home. When it dived off the road to the left I thought this must be a shortcut back to the hotel. Not so. They took us halfway down to Dumre in one hell of a run out down the valley to link up briefly with the old main trail from Tibet, then a short cut through the pines up to the Resort swimming pool and up the steps to the On-In. I can claim to be the first to come home from the right direction, but only by dint of circumventing checks 9 and 10. (Keeled, please note that this was written before I read your crap).

There were a few runners in already (notably the GM who was probably on his 5th beer having had the common sense to take the direct route home) and all the walkers. The rest of the pack slowly straggled in from the wrong direction, some to cheers and some to derision. A while later there was a shout and the stalwart few who had done the whole thing appeared up the steps. Not sure who all should be credited, but I think Raj, Trouble, Yogi, Rubberlegs were certainly amongst them, as was probably the F******g Rooster (just a suggestion for a hash name) and the solitary bideshi, Keeled. Apologies to those who I have forgotten but well done to all who made it all the way round. I reckon it took them around 3 hours.

The Circle

Allowing only a brief interlude for recovery, the GM called for order (a pointless effort as usual - GM) and the Hares into the middle. It was a debatable call; one of the Hares reckoned 15.00, the circle reckoned 0.1500. I'm not sure what the end result was and I doubt if anyone else can shed any light (or really cares). It was a fantastic run and worthy of even less than 0.15. You've no idea how lucky you bastards are until you've run 5km round the streets of Dhaka in one hour for a few weeks in succession.

There were a fair few virgins with a strong contribution from the Land of the Rising Sun, especially Tom, who entered into the spirit of things to a level that caused even the GM a degree of alarm, and the juniors who ran much of the run.

Returnees were Jo, Mr. Nepal, Annette, a really nice couple from somewhere in the Middle East whose names I cannot remember and the three of the five members of the Towed Horde, Towed Under, Custard Tart and me, Towed. The GM next called for leavers, until he realised that no-one would leave until after Run 1501.

For some unknown reason Hare Monireh, who I think goes under the hash name of Regular Hasher, was called in on her own, possibly another returnee that the GM forgot first time round. (or it may be that it was her last hash - except the next day's. Not sure. - GM)

I'm having to do this from the photos that the Gee Emm sent me so it is understandably vague.

The next bunch looked like those who made it the whole way round: that is until I spotted Apple in their midst and then some of the Japanese virgins were called back in, possibly because the GM knows by now that most of their race need a free beer every 10 minutes to keep their attention.

The next one is easy to remember; Victim complained about someone bonking in the next door room the previous night. However, I'm not sure exactly what his complaint was: whether the noise had kept him awake or whether they hadn't invited him to join in. There were also a few hash crashers, one of whom was the Gee Mizz, and the other two were Apple and Jo.

The penultimate down-down was awarded to Towed Under, probably because she spent half the weekend back in her old habits of trying (unsuccessfully) to organise the GM, and the final bunch of miscreants were a foursome that I don't recognise at all and have absolutely no idea why they were called in. Other than wearing trainers, none appear to be dressed for serious hashing, so it was possibly something to do with that.

The Hashit went, quite deservedly, to the GM. Clearly Mrs Rotter has been wielding a hot iron (unlike her husband, if you catch my drift) and the middle of the Hashit headgear is holy. The GM was forced to take his down-down through the hole.

Social drinking was hurriedly declared and we progressed to dinner and the instructed social frolicking.

Well done to the Hares for reminding me what a real hash looks like and for finding some fantastic trails; to the GM and Keeled for deciding on the excellent location (they will no doubt still be arguing about who thought of it first when run 2000 rolls around) and to the GM for managing the organisation (and designing the bloody t-shirts which, at the time of this edit, have seen such brisk demand that we are in danger of losing the remaining few under the huge pile of leftover Run 1400 shirts - GM) with support from the Gee Mizz and Doggy Style.

I should also like to say a big thanks to Prabal for helping to rescue Custard Tart from heat exhaustion on Run 1501 with sugar drinks, showers and nourishing pears (I've never heard it referred to like that - GM).

On On
Towed