You know you're a hasher....

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers (and sisters)

Back in the days when I first discovered the joys of hashing, I recall writing a rehash which consisted entirely of sentences based on the pattern: You know you're a... when... etc., the upshot being to point out the fundamental illogicality of hashing. The point is amply illustrated by the recent trip to KL - a trip we have all been saying for many years we should make, which finally came to fruition on the occasion of the Batu Hash 25th anniversary run last Saturday.

Koala Humper, better known as Brian - chairman of the Batu H4 Anniversary
run organising committee makes Peppered Pussy feel...welcome.

On the positive side, Batu Hash put on a great event which 800 or so people attended, with copious food and as much beer or cider as a camel could drink. They also treated the SH3 contingent like visiting royalty, entertaining us at the Batu Hash clubhouse on Friday evening and generally making us feel as welcome as they possibly could. Sadly however the rain gods decreed that the day itself would be wet and the evening's entertainment had to be enjoyed from under the scant shelter available at the quarry where the run was held, and the conditions reduced the run - challenging by anybody's standards, to a combination of impossible ascents up muddy slopes and perilous descents best attempted with ropes and belays.

As shown above, it began in the quarry and after a small fireworks display, a modest pack estimated at no more than 100 and possibly as few as 60 long runners set off upwards then down to a road before cutting off along a track which should have afforded some good running had the rain not already made it treacherous. At the end there were 2 false trails which successfully brought the pack back to some sort of togetherness, after which the trail crossed the valley and headed up... and up....and up, eventually reaching a maximum height of 377m a little over half way round the trail and at least an hour and a quarter into the run - for some much more.  
From there the trail headed downwards, and if the muddy slopes upwards had been difficult, the downward slopes were at times suicidal. But eventually the in-trail rejoined the out-trail via a final descent which tested the nerves of everyone except Stick Insect who skied down it.  A total ascent of 416m was measured but this may have been an under-estimate bearing in mind that the starting height measured by the new mini-GPS was 187m whereas the ending height at the same point was measured at 125m. Technology, huh? You just can't trust it! The full run was measured at 7.9k for those who avoided the F's and took the fastest runners about 2 hours with lesser mortals struggling in after dark in over 3 hours.

Handjob's birthday cake. How old was it again?

By that time the 'circle', which because of the inclement weather consisted of two rows of people sheltering under the food stalls running down either side of the run site, consuming the copious food and beer and largely ignoring the icing of various groups of hashers, was already well advanced. This was followed by some hash entertainment during which most people headed to the washing areas and did their best to get clean before returning to the shelter of the food stalls to await the disco.

At this point, the collective view of the SH3 contingent was that enough was enough and that with the rain showing no sign of abating and the dance floor already under water, the lure of more free beer was not enough to override the general feeling that we were all completely knackered.

But let's stay positive: everyone who went enjoyed the weekend and all agreed that we really should do this more often. We can't always expect to be treated as well as we were by Batu H4, but just being together in a new environment is a great experience as we all know from the trip to Ubon earlier in the year. If it hadn't rained there would probably have been absolutely no hesitation in declaring the Batu run and party a huge success - they had clearly put an enormous amount of effort into organizing the event, and as usual the bon-homie and fellowship of the hashing fraternity was very evident.

So to summarize, in the spirit of my rehash so many years ago, you know you're a hasher when you drive 500k to Kuala Lumpur, spend two and a half hours clambering up a 400m hill then sliding back down it, to a rain soaked run site full of pissed hashers but are too knackered to hang around and do full justice to the free beer, and you say "let's do it again soon!"

PS On the way home, having taken custody of Yardstick's navigator, Kii Leum just short of Georgetown, the Egg car suffered a massive coup de stupidité when having got over the border just before 3:30 p.m., its occupants decided to make a dash for the HH3 run, which they made with 10 minutes to spare thanks to some elasticity in the space-time continuum. The run which ensued was "challenging" and prompted several painful flashbacks to the previous day's outing, but was nevertheless heaped with faint praise. So to extend my earlier definition: You know you're a hasher when you drive 500k .... and say "lets do it again soon", then just can't wait to get back to Hatyai for the next run!