Welcome to the Paris hash trash number three thousand five hundred and eighty-seven, as an impromptu scribe with a bad memory might say. The hash dawned septemberish and slowly, which was probably to be expected, but a gradual panic about the absence of the hare and indeed the co beer master (with associated beer, and trail, disrespectively) began to rise and people were sent off on what would become the first of a number of shopping trips to buy beer, but not flour, which was the correct decision, given the amount of unused flour that the hare produced when he appeared a good 15 minutes after 2, which might normally pass for early.
Any hardcore bike-hash enthusiasts who may or may not (in the lack of any
evidence) have been in the vicinity of monceau at some point during the day
will have been disappointed to miss: the sight of a large number of cyclists
cycling, and also the hare’s bid to lose as few people as possible by keeping
track of the hashers by using a bicycle to facilitate keeping an eye on exactly
where everyone was at all times. Unfortunately this was doomed to be a failed
attempt (vide infra).
So after the cyclists had left, and we had hung about a bit more, and the
shoppers had returned, and we had had a first beer stop (we were still
stationary, so stopped), the hash adjourned to the inside of the park, ever so
slightly further removed from the start of the trail proper for a chalk talk
featuring two degenerate arrow types, the promise of two checks, and no beer
Surely an unsatisfactory situation. well the powers that be, and who knows which powers they might be, decided there and then that two further beer stops would have to be improvised, so that was that and off we eventually ran, as there were no walkers.
After the second check, confusingly two rival packs appeared to arrive at the
same point having followed different trails from the check. In the event,
though, this point was nowhere near the real trail, and most, but apparently
not all, eventually made their way into what appeared to be an overgrown and
somewhat flooded railway yard, and out again, past a lady walking her
television (which apparently was fit and healthy at the start of its walk), and
began to mount mont martre.
The front running bastards found that the cemetery was closed, but the shop was open, so stopped to buy some beer. as the remaining hashers trickled in
(including the hare, who had also bought beer), it became increasingly clear
that some people had more or less got lost, and while most of them got there
eventually, Gonzo did not. In other news coming in by technological means while we waited near the cemetery gates, the co beer master had arrived at parc
monceau with just 7 and lots of beer, and would be keen to supply a circleful
of thirsty hashers on their return. So that was good news and was a weight off
Well we continued onwards and upwards, but without seeing a trail. FRBs and
walkers reunited with the hare, who had gone to the shops to get some cold
beer, for another beer stop near the sacred heart. Strangely we all seemed to
get there despite the lack of any markings, all except for Fucking Fan, who
preferred to go to the Moulin Rouge. Also at this beer stop we managed to make
further losses as Sharp Shooter snuck off without telling anyone.
In the absence of any markings, we more or less headed straight back via the
Moulin Rouge to try to find FF. Here there was a mark: Hash Wait, so we waited
for a while, but F Fan did not miraculously appear so we gradually made our
ways back along the route of the No 2 Metro by whatever means necessary. Here were Gonzo and Fucking F, but apparently our beer co mister and mrs had already left. well with somewhat further ado involving a further shopping expedition – actually is this even true?? – we got on with the circle and the down downs and here is what you have all been waiting for:
Vlad the hare was RAing, and at this point it had started raining, but as it had not been raining earlier the puppet show conversation between Vlad and himself decided that mostly he would be drinking in his capacity as the hare of what was probably best described as a remarkable trail.
Fucking Fan was shortcutting and he had also got changed. These were things that the hash was not very impressed with.
Chewbacka is a visitor from America, via Africa which is where he had been visiting. We managed to ascertain that he has size 10 feet (US sizing scheme), so I hope this info was useful to someone.
There was a returnee: Gonzo has been in Ireland for several months.
Some people were not wearing hash kit. A disgrace. They were Frog banger and just Ryan.
At this point Half Crazy started thinking.
Someone pointed out that the hare had been very successful in his bid to lose as many people as possible by cycling. Of course most of the lostcomers had made it to the circle. The figure was six times the acceptable number, so there was no
choice but to punish this strategy.
Petit wee wee was then punished for doing something wrong, although I must admit I am not sure quite what. Using a mobile phone without a condom is what it says on this piece of paper….
In any case, he drank.
Some people were pointing, but they got away with it.
Petit wee wee and Frog banger got punished for being first back.
They drank, but one of them had a serious failure in doing this: Frog banger had
to try again.
That time it went more according to plan.
And then the beer ran out, so we closed the circle and someone went to the shops after which….