投稿日: Jul 25, 2020 2:9:25 AM
Scribe: Crusader
The Good, the Not-So-Bad and the Very, Very Ugly
It’s always good to start with a theme, and, since our beloved leader is a renowned Italophile, what better starting point than that fantastic Spaghetti Western whose majestic theme tune was composed by the recently-deceased Ennio Morricone. (Note to any of our younger members who haven’t seen it: download it NOW!)
So what was the “Good”? Very simply the fact that H4 mismanagement had, after an extended siesta, finally summoned up the energy to organize an outing. Moreover, in a manner reminiscent of the Londonbus system, after four months of waiting, we got not one run but, you guessed it, two on the same day! Even better was the fact that, after weeks of constant rain, we woke up to the unfamiliar sight of blue skies and sunshine. Fullerair claims the credit for this, swearing that he has been howling at the (invisible) moon till he drove his neighbours to distraction, but most of us believe the decisive factor were the sun dances performed by Santa Maria, the tremors from which have been felt in Tokyo over the past few days.
How about the “Not-So-Bad”? This was the splendid tour of Yokohama arranged by our stay-at-home Canadian friends, Safety Last and Whiplash, which thoroughly deserved to be better attended. First to join them in the shadow of Yokohama Stadium was your faithful scribe, who in his hurry to complete both trails, set off before two latecomers.
After a circuit of Yokohama Park the immaculately marked trail followed that long strip of greenery to Bandobashi station. A left turn there led to a monster hill (Inarizaka?) which afforded a spectacular view of the city, and onwards to the curiously named “Mayflower Street”. (Who knew that the Pilgrim Fathers had also landed in Japan?) A cunningly-contrived Eagle/Turkey split at the top of the bluff led your scribe on a punishing downhill/uphill circuit, before the trail dived down a steep fight of steps into deepest, darkest Nakamuracho. From there we were steered towards Ishikawacho station, though not without a couple of sadistic loops which (surprise, surprise) took us up yet more hills. From there the trail skirted Chinatownbefore circling back around the back end of the stadium to the starting point. There, almost exactly an hour after setting off and without a single navigational problem, I was warmly greeted by our Hares with a very welcome can of the amber nectar. An excellent start to the afternoon!
And so to the “Very, Very Ugly”. After nearly twelve years of setting trails you would think that our two joint masters had mastered the art, but sadly they are very slow learners. (If the international Hashing community offered remedial Haring classes, they would be prime candidates.) Most of the male Hashers had probably been drawn to Zushi by the prospect of ogling bikini-clad babes as they strode along the beach, but sadly our Hares had other ideas. Leading us out of the West Exit of the station, they dragged us along a suburban road to a less-than-scenic Family Mart car park, which served as the starting and finishing point. This set the tone for the rest of the afternoon.
Off we went, five intrepid souls, on a trail that would have been instantly and totally forgettable but for a series of complete cock-ups. The first was a checkback where the Hares, perhaps forgetting that the pack did not consist of blind old fogies such as themselves, had marked the On-On in full view not more than ten metres ahead. That mishap was one we were grateful for, but worse, much worse, was to follow. The first Eagle/Turkey split had been completely mangled, presumably by an earlier runner, so we can forgive the Hares for that one. Not for the rest, though. At one point they had obviously had a complete change of heart and direction; the only problem was that they forgot to delete the arrows leading us on the original trail. Much confusion followed as the pack was cast about like a mad woman’s laundry, until arrows were found in completely the opposite direction. (By this time a pack of five runners had split into at least three separate groups.) The Hares even managed (almost) to bungle the second Eagle/Turkey split, with an “E” arrow clearly pointing in what was obviously the wrong direction. The remainder of the trail was so dull as to constitute a world-beating cure for insomnia, and the finish could not come a moment too soon.
Back at the car park the (BYO beer) festivities started, the highlight being an emotional rendering of “Happy Birthday” sung over a bag of bean sprouts decorated with a candle food warmer masquerading as a birthday cake. This was in honour of faithful Hound Tapeworm who had the previous day celebrated his 80th birthday. But was the birthday boy there to receive our best wishes? No, he may be ancient and decrepit (sorry, a venerable senior citizen), but he still has the good sense to recognize a disaster in the making when he sees one, and instead joined the run in Yokohama. And who could blame him? What a wonderful thing is the wisdom that comes with experience….
On! On!
Crusader