Run No.86 9 August 2015

投稿日: Aug 23, 2015 1:50:49 PM

Scribe: Begging For It (newly baptized, those without names can bow at my feet)

Theme: Watermelon, sun, sea, sand, open field farms

Hares: Frenchie & Wiggy

Start Time: 1530

Start Location: Misakiguchi Station

Weather: Sizzling hot and humid, heatstroke-inducing temperature

Hounds: 27 including 1 virgin

Run Type: A to B

Yep it’s that time of the month….the Hash has come around again. This month of hot, hot, hot August summer, it was a trip to the Miura coast.

The Hounds mustered at the start as Wiggy dished out pre-run instructions, with Frenchie chiming in, under the blistering sun. We were assured that the breeze from the sea will take care of some of the sweltering heat (yeah right!).

Then we sauntered off, slowly and steadily. Just as your scribe started to pick up speed along with some of the other Hounds, almost immediately we ran into the first check back. We milled around searching for a trail in open field farms laid out in grids. The heat was relentless. A voice from the other end of the grid yelled out “On On”. It was Crusader. We hurried over to catch up but he has already put a good distance between himself and us.

We came to a Check point. Crusader was nowhere to be seen, no doubt blazing the trail. We took the right turn, running along the beach. The water looked inviting (hmmm maybe I should ditch this hash thought your scribe). Safety Last was leading the pack with your scribe following his heels. We quickly realized that we were losing the trail as we neared the sands. This can’t be right, your scribe exclaimed. We chucked an u-e but the last trail mark seemed to point toward the beach where we have just backtracked. By now the latecomers have caught up. We went up and down the beach, checking carefully for trail marks. Private properties on our left, the sea on our right, and sands straight out ahead. Whiplash whipped out her cell and texted the Hares, where the hare is the trail? The sun flared and flamed. Bad Hares!

We meandered our way back to the last Check point and turned left this time, sure enough our eyes quickly caught sight of “On On” scribbled on the side of the curb. Away we went. After picking the Eagle course, we found ourselves in vast open field farms in grids layout, the sun was unforgiving beating down on the Hounds. The Hounds powered on through led in the distance by Platinum Pork, all happy to eat Crusader’s dust as he has marked up all the check backs.

We zigged and we zagged, passing bare field farms. The trail took us back to town, the smell of sea salt wafted through the air, the beach was in sight. Your scribe continued to run/walk, not realizing that the finish point was just across the street on the beach. Frenchie yelled out come back, you have gone too far, we doubled back and were greeted with refreshing watermelons, cold beers and waves lapping the shore.

All the Hounds made it to the beach, covering a distance of ~7k for those who did the Turkey course and some ~11k for those who completed the Eagle course, managing to dodge most of the check backs, thanks to Crusader, with time ranging between 1:10 and 1:45 hours. Circle was called. The Hares were given some stick, “you said there will be breeze - there were breeze when we laid the trail”, “the check backs were predictable”, “not enough trail marks”, “the trail along the sea wasn’t long enough”, “why are there no Sapporo beers?” but overall the Hares were congratulated and applauded for their efforts.

Dinner was fresh sashimi and soba, accompanied by plentiful rounds of obligatory beers and sake at a seafood restaurant down across the beach. This was however not without resolving first some challenges revolving vegetarian vs. non-vegetarian set.

Then the big moment arrived (drum rolls), your scribe was at long last determined to be worthy for a name ? “Begging For It” (all the badgering has paid off!) along with another no name who shall hereafter be known as “Tree Humper”, coined following an intense debate surrounding bears, crabs, and fish. No fancy-pants naming ceremony, your scribe was expecting a blood ritual but instead the newly minted Hashers each got a lousy cool T-shirt (cheers Santa Maria!).

We staggered out of the restaurant and made our way to the train station. To cap off the day, we witnessed Whiplash turning into a hulk, prying open the train door with her bare hands, squealing “I will not go quietly” to get back on the train after getting off a few stops early.

On to the next hash!