Run 1855
Date : 20th May 2013
Hare : Swindler
Venue : Somebody Gilchrest park, Tarcoola Crescent, Chevron Island
Runners Lots
The curse is lifted in seven days.
Welcome to the sequel to Ben Hur. Who were all these people gathered in shivering groups on a park the size of a postage stamp? The AGPU was obviously so close you could smell it and it smelled of freedom.
So, Chevron Island, two ways on two ways off (discounting a swim leg) so either a tour round Surfers or Ferry road or a long tour round both. The Hare proclaimed this as the run for the walkers? In which the runners would play second fiddle to the walkers, we must have changed our name to Hash House Amblers.
Furthermore in a completely innovative way, (since Jigsaw’s run a couple of week back) a bottle of ‘High Class’ wine would be presented to the first returner with the key word. How novel. Again.
With a feeling which measured equally of both anticipation and reluctance, we embarked on a semi circumnavigation of Chevron, knowing full well we would be getting off this Gold Coast enigma via the west bridge. Numerous checks were fooling no-one and so it wasn’t long before we arrived at the aforementioned bridge (for the first time).
The trail indicated left and towards the council chambers for the runners – under the bridge for the walkers. The first check showed either left to a dead end or straight on which turned up being a ……….. dead end.
I ended up walking aimlessly for ten minutes, looking for any sign of a trail and was about to give up when I met up with Circumference by the bridge, the trail, apparently, was on the opposite side of the road. Of course, why didn’t anyone think of looking there before? Oh that’s right, according to the markings, it didn’t go that way. This was fast turning into a debacle.
Eventually the trail lead along a path before emerging onto Slatyer and giving a choice of returning to the de ja vu bridge or left to an …….on back obviously.
Back at the bridge, Hashers milled around in utter desperation, the vast majority continued home, I noticed the trail heading north up ferry road, it won’t surprise you I am sure, that after 800m it did a U-turn by the word ‘Dick’ (short for Dicked about) and went straight back to, yes you guessed the bridge once more. Not a debacle, more a travesty.
Once back at the micro-park I observed the general scratching of heads and puzzled glances, what had just happened?
Once settled in the rather refined surroundings of the Hare’s alfresco area, more Nacho’s than you could shake a stick at, were served against the stunning backdrop of Chevron Renaissance etc. A pumpkin soup followed these, which, dependent on your location within the food queue was either delicious or marginally toxic after being ‘watered’ down with red wine.
The mains consisted of what I assume was beef Goulash, rice, sliced baguettes and Greek salad. The servings were generous, the beef tender and the salad tasty, a fine effort. The climax to the meal was apple crumble served with ice cream and caramel sauce, that Swindler certainly knows his way around the kitchen, or does he?
Methinks someone was aiming for nosh of the year. Shame the trophy has already been engraved.
A rather relaxed circle was called with most opting to remain seated. The GM, wearing a hideous Freddy Kruger mask, opened with “Swindler by name, Swindler by nature” and questioned whether the bottle of vino would end up with a Gossips label. The Hare was congratulated on his 68th birthday, he replied with “ Its so good to be with you blokes, you make me feel so young”. Swindlers impressive run count was relayed to the response “we don’t have to worry about Sir Swindler” by Two Dogs.
Ferret was asked to comment on the run, this lead to a ten-minute argument with the Hare about correct markings, Caustic enquired if the Hare had outsourced the run to Cum Smoke, as it was so bad.
Reg was identified as a co-hare and brought out for the onslaught. Despite having attended on only one previous occasion and having never set a run before Swindler seemed to have left most of it up to Reg and strenuously claimed the distance to have been 8.01km. Mr. Garmin (that’s Two Dogs to you) contested this. The score rather generously ended up as 1.08.
Miscarriage described the food as beef stroke-me-off and scored it an 8.01.
Rectum received a bottle of red with a dodgy looking label.
Visitors –
Slug – former Gladstone runner now residing on coast
Mr. Miscarriage – 83 years young and with far more decorum than his progeny
Magician – back from Saigon where he saw testicles (that’s lady-boys for you)
Veteran – Injury prone and adverse to long bouts of travel
Reg – helped cook the meal
Milestone (but too late for a gift) Caustic Crusader with 200 runs – DD
RA dished a DD to Moonbeams for his Franz Klammer get up, Swindler for the artwork on the menu, which unfortunately abused intellectual property. That must be a small portfolio in our hash.
DD to Swindler, Kwakka for the trail, Reg sidestepped the DD with a skill level seldom seen from such a novice hasher. This man has potential.
Charges were asked for and Miscarriage answered the call with a DD to, well who, Princey for kissing cousins, of whom VD adjudicated – seems ok to me. Then a DD to Arse Up as a proxy for Mumbles who recently appropriated Miscarriages shirt.
Caustic volunteered Elvis for sneaking off home half way through the run and hiding in the ladies toilet before rejoining the pack on their way home. Elvis apologized, explaining it was his time of the month.
The circle was then hijacked by the current POW Josephine who was intent on regaining his beloved RA’s position with a strong performance. Those chosen were essentially the current committee –
GM – false charge last week
Croc and Rug – constantly running out of booze
Rectum – Latin for tourists in the trash
RA – failure to stop the rain, apparently he is being chased by a North Queensland farmers co-operative, who are hoping he can end the drought.
Swindler – after taking credit for the food was overheard talking to the boss on the phone asking how to turn the oven on.
Elvis – admission of Eurovision viewing
Slug – arriving on the GC six months ago but not turning up to run until the week before the AGPU.
Slug took out the award, welcome to the GC, as Blackie put it “this is why we can never keep hold of new members”
AGPU seven sleeps and counting. Yeah Baby. Meet 5pm Bruce Bishop car park top level for a few drinks first. Hash formal t-shirts and top hats please. $30 for regular runners and $50 for the bludgers, great value either way.
Remember if you don’t get the job on the committee you wanted then ………………….. You should have volunteered.
End of circle by Franz Moonbeams.
Thanks to Swindler for opening his doors to our rabble, the neighbours wont speak to you for months. Thanks also to Kwakka for taking the trail-marking fall and to Reg for a dazzling display of sidestepping. Good luck as On sec next year Swindler. Sorry was I not supposed to say that.
On On
Rectum
Hang On a Sec
Another tissue of lies.