Stewie and Dave the Pom in Kalamunda
A pack of 40 hashers gathered on a balmy afternoon for a mainly bush run where goats would not dare to tread.
We were about half way up Kalamunda hill so it was a given that we will be scrambling uphill on pea gravel tracks for the next 40 minutes or so…. Dave the Pom had a fall the weekend before just setting the run, so injuries were high on the agenda.
The pack set off uphill, slipping and sliding with near misses from the start. Up, up and more up only too see a hazy view of Perth due to some bushfires down south. As we got to the top of the hill, we had our first casualty in Lasagne who took a tumble.
A bit of bitumen road, many false trails, then back onto the bush tracks to head for the drink stop. The pack got a little lost when they turned into bush only, but they soon found the drink stop at Dave the Pom’s house. Mulled wine was offered and we drank.
Pack got in in about 45 minutes.
Lasagne’s wounds were cleaned up by JerryCan and he promptly went home to get some sympathy from his spouse.
Stewie put on Lamb biryani and rice, which was a bit like Scottie’s Scottish Broth where you had to look for ANY meat in the soup. I think Stewie put in 2 chops and it was a bonus if you got it. Stewie also put on a 70 th Birthday cake to celebrate his milestone.
Next week back to the flat lands at Kallaroo – NO PEA GRAVEL…..
Hare: Mumbles with Co-Hares: Budgie and Crayfish.
Location: Leeming Bowling Club.
A balmy, January evening at the Leeming Bowling Club, on the southern boundary of Melville Glades Golf Club. Three highly experienced and thoroughly reliable PH3 Hares sat awaiting the arrival of the bucket and some 45 hounds. All anticipating an exciting evening of well crafted trail, circle and dinner.
Little did the assembly realize this was the hi-point of the evening as even before the starters pistol we were evicted from the bowling club car park. Sleuthing by Dick Tracey found that once Mumbles name was mentioned to the club president, the gates were immediately locked.
Rarely deterred by such minor irritations, the mob set off at an impressive pace towards Karel Avenue and led by The Mole, newly invigorated after his extensive holiday break but with all others equally exhilarated by the prospect of a long fast run, even Horse was chomping at the bit.
Phantom, with the map grasped in his hand, launched into a sprint but after 50 metres his body gave way and the map was passed to Dick Tracey quicker than an Olympic baton handover.
Trail led the pack to the first falsie, which was in lieu of the standard loop. From then on walkers and runners separated until walkers met a deleted running pack at Peter Ellis Park on Findlay Street. Walkers had not seen trail and these intrepid and “lost” runners had also been suffering the same fate. Anyway after exchanging pleasantries such as “dead man walking” and where the FFF…flip is the trail the groups defined their own routes back to the bucket. (OUTSIDE OF THE BOWLING CLUB CAR PARK).
This evening clearly demonstrated that chalk is not always necessary to set a Hash run.
An entertaining circle conducted by triple J and French Tickler had the pleasure of joining Budgie (73) and Stewie (70) in their birthday celebrations followed by a splendid repast of ham rolls.
The hash gathered at the traditional run site – the car park opposite the Royal Perth Yacht Club. It was well attended by members from various clubs including Hills Hash, South of Perth, Rocky City Hash, West Coast, the Harriettes, Hammersley and small numbers from other clubs. Perth was represented by approximately 20 members. The weather was chilly with a cool wind blowing from the across the river.
Rumpole arrived in the bucket without any assistance of a co-driver. Which could suggest that there may have been some hint of cowardice in face of the enemy by his subordinates? Still Rumpole manfully put on a brave face as he set up the bucket. Moses appeared, supported by the only canine at the event, together with his Finnish mate who took an instant liking for our golden throat rinse.
At 6.30, the tranquillity was suddenly shattered when Screwdriver announced to the world that he and Butless had set three trails so as to cater for various abilities of the aging pack: being runners, a walkers and a stroll to the drink stop trails. So the pack separated into their designated groups and headed off toward the University. Given that Rumpole had handed over the control of the Bucket to your semi illiterate scribe, the description of the run is pure hearsay. According to my informant, the run bore a striking resemblance to previous meanders from this location. A gentle stroll through the hallowed halls of
On their return the pack was assailed by the Hammersley who conducted the Circle with the usual acknowledgments and charges: Virgin Runners, charges for indiscretions of the run, etc.
The Hares were awarded an 8/10 for the run.
The night was closed by all clubs singing their various Hash anthems
All in all it was a good night
The run without the Phantom’s phantom ( mainly Rhino ) who after being asked to be co-hare said yeah , no problem then went to London !!! As far away as he could possibly get !!! The run/walk started with a bang , we got a drink stop at the start of the run/walk instead of halfway thru as is normal .
The run started promisingly from the training ground for athletics with some great bodies , and that was just the blokes , it then meandered ( good word meandered ) thru to a ecological reserve , according to the expert on the ecology , Stewie , who said animals supposedly like these reserves to procreate and after they’ve procreated like to feed .
It then meandered up to Wireless Hill , where according to Skid , no dogs are allowed .
Hash dogs can’t read and then meandered down to The Ramble , THE STREET about 30 years ago , and then finally on home where our esteemed On Sec blessed us and wished us Happy New Year
The food was pizza , again , which was just a tad late , and one watering can later, we all chuffed off.
Iwbdfq (Ed: I failed to be able to interpret this, bit like trying to understand Mumbles at the best of times)
‘I Wouldn’t Be Dead For Quids’