Run 964 - 25 Feb 2007

Jul 11

Run 964 The Hares - Stiff Fanny, Stiff Fanny's Dick and Stiffita

Your scribe - Shagadelic

The Stiffs excell in reccying virgin territory. They boldly go where only those with long lazy days and and house maids to cover all calls would go.

Their fortune is our gain. The circle was formed in the Sierra Blanca national park, just above the Don Miguel hotel in Marbella. The hashers had set off - arriving at an empty circle is odd. I found the Stiff's heading off to the beer stop. Steph, pointed me in the right direction proving to be a smart move for me as the rest of the pack had headed up and over the adjoining hill in completely the wrong direction.

Only the the freshly dropped flour indicated I was ahead of them, so far ahead infact, i could not hear any ON ON cries from the pack. Jack and I waited along the winding forest track. Having already crossed a mountain brook, blobbed in flour in dense forest I knew I would hear them sooner or later. Sure enough the whistles and crys of marauding hashers soon reverberated through this serene and tranquil park. Up they were climbing till a stream of bright t-shirts scrambled and bounced past me. On On! In parts, the climb was unlike any Mediterranean forest, more like a Shakespearian woodland and then just as the forest appeared, it went. We were out on a plateau over looking the whole of the Marbella coastline in bright sunshine.

There was plenty of time to take in the view as none of us could find the check. Once that was discovered it was on down through a meadow. Yes it was a bit like the wind in the willows hash. Without the wind, it was a scorcher for the first hash in March. And then the track led us across the fast flowing brook and upwards till we got completely and utterly confused. "R U? " - "Checking, Ru?" "no Iґve been there", and "Iґve been there", "well have you been there?" was echoing through the valley and a lot of headless chickens where doing a hash impression.

A finger tip search of the woods had produced nothing and we headed back to the split trail for the most obvious crossing. From then the adventure deepened as did the river and Tight Arse was able to throw Jack down the waterfall. That's a must do place for a picnic in early summer and surprisingly easy to get to as just a few hundred meters further on led us to the river bank beer stop. Complete with fishing chairs, Sunday papers and hash brownies and not a lidl's own brand beer in site.

Civilized they may be but sending us off on the second half up a vertical climb, soft they are not. Most of us are used to pointless second halves but heading back we confronted more checks guarded by goats, tracking through an old farm still there despite the town creeping higher and higher up the hill. Then more confusion and climbing past killer guard dogs back through the forest. With the waterfalls, and forest climbs it was a celestial day out. And we made it back all in tact. The dogs started fighting, Jack thought he owned the forest by now.

The circle saw Gangplank and Dogsy back in the fold after months of spending their hard earning savings on young lady boys and Thai massage parlors. Do you think we will see Virgin Sarah again?

Gobi and Dipper were in fine form as market traders and haberdashery extended credit and introduced the new summer line.

El Cid collected an injury and missed a wonderful hash.

Spittoon gave it a four which must be unsurpassable.

Eight and three quarters was the final mark which under the new, rigorous system is a double first in my book. But what do I know?

ON ON was at the stylish Casa Stiffs starting with melon drenched in port, Serrano nibbles, vast quantities of wine washed down a spicy green Thai curry in honor of the two dirty dicks that came back from their Pattaya Shagathon.

I left before I saw the photos!

ON ON!