Your Hares: Pieterfile, Ms. Moneypenis, Ratwalker & Van Dyke
When your hares arrived on Friday, still sore and itchy from leech bites of a two week earlier recce, the weather didn't look too promising. A steady drizzle from low clouds that covered the area gave the place an eerie look, but the fact that the restaurant was closed was only a good omen, as they were not be able to produce anything close to edible (and drinkable) the fortnight earlier.
Thank Hash we brought our own stuff, had a quick but enjoyable bite on simple stuff, like smoked duck (WTF, Ratwalker?) Pate, Tuna Salad, Ham and Cheese and Baguettes and all the other stuff only available at Big C and definitively not around Ba Vi, and set off into the (partly) unknown.
Not soon after, we were covered in leeches, and jumping around like hell, and the sounds and smells were from hissing insect killer sprays, popping up umbrellas and the acoustics of a RW covering his shoes with spray-paint in a futile attempt to keep the little suckers of his feet.
We must have survived the ordeal though, as we found ourselves going through the same thing the next day, this time to set the Sunday run. Mud, mud, mud. We were in time though to meet the bus on its arrival to the 'resort' .
Thanks to MMP, check-in went flawless (although your scribe ended up alone in his room, so unlike 6 years earlier, but more about that later…)
After 'lunch', same crap but worse, we circled up for our Saturday Run. Some newcomers were called into the circle and we took off for a great, but extremely muddy and wet run. We welcomed Lecherous and Song Man as returnees. Great to see them (once in a while). 5 Minutes later into our adventure, we lost about 50% percent of our walkers, because some girls started screaming like pigs (yeah, I know, we love this) because our little blood-sucking 'friends' had been waiting for them, ever since we announced them they were coming.
Superb trail markings (hey, what do you expect, I'm doing the write-up for my own run), brought us from the beer stop back to the Resort From Hell, where some of us found it necessary to bend some rules and take a shower before the circle.
After the circle, and maybe during, at least for me, things starts to get blurry.. I still recall a great BBQ outside, before we moved to a stilt a house, where your scribe was hitting on anything that didn't have a dick (what's new…) Dancing, good music, Cocahontas and Eau De Toilette were in charge for that (or were they?)
Saturday went and Sunday came… I guess we lost again half of our runners / walkers at that time. Hung-over (Makes Me Wet and others)… but still the Brave and Hardy embarked on the Sunday adventure, which was, let's say, muddy and wet again for the runners, and leechy for the walkers on the last leg.
Great views over a misty lake, the tea plantations, wading through a river, just an enjoyable run, if it wasn't for the killer bees which attacked three of your runners. Spandex even got stung on his head (which increased his brain size). Cocahontas developed elephant feet instantaneously (I guess we need another farewell party for that one) and your scribe got four hits, wondering why this muscle enhancing technology was not applied to Chicken Legs.
Then there was a circle, characterized by little segmented worms that belong to the phylum Annelida and comprise the subclass Hirudinea, with other words, the circle was lively like hell with little leeches getting all wound up by bloody feet and crawling around in excitement. I guess their lunch was better then ours, just a bit later. Oh, and there was a naming… And since short, we have a Screaming Leech in our middle, after Leech Peach got sent to to the recycle bin, together with some other suggestions.
We loaded the leftovers of drinks on the bus, and headed home, me, in agony, with swollen legs of the bee stings but with some good memories.
But… Where did the monkeys go? Again, 6 years ago, we had a weekend at the same place. Brought my same truck (with a mattress in the back, somehow I got confused about accommodation, and my truck was dubbed as the Redneck Shagmobile) ) , but when we parked for the circle, we got raided by a flock of monkeys, stealing beers and cans from the truck. Biting their way through the soda cans, which exploded in their faces, but they couldn't care less. Songman & Alkasleazer, Camp Screw (for all your car screw ups) & Spandex Man were accountable for that one (Bring your Ca Me Ra, as SpM would put it). Can't recall any leech attack back then, but remember waking up in a room with 4 hash girls. Bang Me, She Wants It, Perfect Pussy and Carpet Burns and with still the sound in my tortured ears of Uncle Tho singing Guantanamera , the evening before.
As Lecherous puts it, there are no bad hash runs, but some are just better then others. I totally agree on that. On On to the next fuck-up…