Hash Scribblings Part 1 Run 1653
Circle to the steep hill out of the river bed.
Your scribe set off a bit early hoping for a pre-run swim in the lake shown next to the circle. Sadly the hares had had a navigational meltdown (it was hot) with the circle being some 6km from the indicated location and nowhere near a lake. The hares blamed poor mobile reception when setting the run. A problem not experienced by hashers on the day.
It was hot. Very hot. 40º hot. The circle was in a flattish area devoid of shade apart from an overgrown bonsai tree. Hashers began to arrive with Titanic setting up her haberdashery stall complete with in-store music.
Attendance was excellent with only a small number failing to overcome the navigational malfunction and missing the Hash.Formalities complete the pack set off with the trail leading down into a dried out gulch looking like a scene out of Mad Max or Lawrence of Arabia. It was quite a change as some months prior, during a 30th anniversary run, the gulch had been full of water.
During these early stages markings were few and far between. It being assumed that resident goats had eaten the flour.
The gulch looked dry and hard but all was not as it seemed. Lurking just under the surface was quicksand, or rather quick black mud. A goat had been fooled and as the pack arrived it was being sucked into the morass. Her owner was struggling to save his goat. Enter Hash heroine Speed Bumps who with total disregard for her own safety waded in and saved the day. One would think that a goat having been trapped in quick mud under a blazing sun might want a cool drink after escaping death. Not a bit of it. Said goat got up, climbed a cliff, and was away. Tough critters these Spanish goats. Speed bumps was covered in black mud for her troubles.
Drama over one or two hashers and a hash dog ignored the hazard, walked where the goat had ventured and started sinking. All quickly escaped.
Eventually the trail was located leading south along a dried waterway. It was pretty easy going as the pack passed a quaint stone bridge followed by a cooling tunnel. Out in the sun it was fiendishly hot. As the trail led out of the waterway up a 65º hill (a shallow gradient in hare-speak) scribe #1 abandoned ship and returned to the circle.
After a time King Canute ambled back. Having, he said, completed the entire course while barely raising a sweat. Other hashers were not so fortunate with Chicken George deploying his camper bus to evacuate two loads of exhausted hashers who were unable to proceed.
to be continued….