Hangover/Full Moon Trail

I took a cab out to the site of the hangover trail. Its a secluded area on the beach about 12 miles out of town. Its a small covered shed next to a small Hindu temple in the shadow of a bankrupt, deserted hi-rise hotel. I`m still not 100% from yesterday. I arrive during a tropical downpour just in time to see the hangover runners return from the short trail. More food is prepared and the beer is flowing. Half the pack jumps into the water and I follow. The water is not very cold but feels pretty good in the tropical heat. I mention to someone that Tits Ahoy looks a lot like one of our harriettes, Cherry Popper. At the mention of her name a woman next to me says"Cherry Popper?! I`ve known her for years!" Turns out its Dr PP. So I catch her up on AH3 gossip. Circle starts and everyone reluctantly drags their ass out of the sea. Its the best circle yet, culminating with a harriette auctioning off her red bra for charity. An old hasher couple show up with a load of Durians from their Durian plantation. Prozac says if you want to try some better move quick.I try a small piece. The taste is garlicy up front but then mellows to a sweet, creamy texture. Not at all disgusting. Why Not? is in heaven. She says its been 3 years since she had some and she and Prozac are chowing down. Another older harriette comes up to say hi to Why Not? and gives her a peck on the lips. She recoils in horror when she tastes the durian on her breath. Everyone is really relaxed after the long weekend and the party continues until 4PM.
Prozac offers me a ride with Big Willie, who they are staying with, to the start of the full moon hash a few miles away. Big Willie takes us to his house where he graciously offers me a shower to wash off the salt crust. I am finally feeling back to normal. His house is beautiful; 3 stories,high ceilings,Buddhist decor, koi pond out back. Its nice to just sit and chill out for a couple of hours after the busy weekend. Enos prattles on and on about god knows what the whole time then its time to go meet the full moon hash. The turnout is large, at least 50, and mostly visitors. We are told its going to be more of a pub crawl but are soon wandering around the back lanes of Batu Feringhi, the local beach resort. Falses have us walking up driveways and cutting thru back yards. One old man looks out his window and says something to the effect of " What the fuck are you doing in my back yard?" Luckily they don`t have handguns here! Eventually we come out on the main drag, cross it and end up at an open air seafood stall right on the beach. The fresh fish is wonderful and I select a small red snapper. It comes fried and served with a spicy tamarind chili sauce with tomatos,onions and bell peppers. Perfect! I am sitting with a group of Chinese hashers and one of the eyes me attentively as I dive into my dinner. I remove the head of the fish and he asks if I`m going to eat it. I said no. He said you`re missing the best part. So with his instruction I eat the cheeks meat under the eyes, a delicacy he assures me. He then shows me how to dissect the head to get to the meat on top. It`s a real Anthony Bourdain moment. I had no idea there is that much meat in a fish head. He then insists I try the tail. Not the meat at the end but the entire fin. I pass on this. He tells me the Chinese eat the head, tail and gills first; they`re not that interested in the actual fish fillet. I polish off the whole thing and am happily stuffed. Its the best snapper I`ve had since Vera Cruz in 2006. Circle then starts on the beach but its half hearted as everyone wants to watch England get their asses handed to them by Germany. I get a cab back to the hotel in time to see the second half. I feel great. Things are looking up.

Medium Run = Ballbuster

The site of Saturday`s festivities is a landscaped quarry at the base of the mountains. Some food is laid out and the beer is flowing. The long run and ballbusters have long ago departed. Word has it the ballbusters have yet to make the first stop, due to some missing trail marks. The medium trail runners assemble for a group photo then its off on trail. After a short stroll we hit the start of the true trail. There is an immediate traffic jam as trail goes up a steep, muddy embankment into the jungle. I`m glad I brought my trail running shoes as I have a firm grip on the steep, muddy trail. Finding myself among the FRBs I slowly plod up the trail. Groups of hashers in better shape than me slowly overtake me as I climb with baby steps to conserve energy. Thursday`s trail has given me some idea of what to expect. Up and up we climb. Its as least as steep as Thursday but higher. I have to stop every 100 yards or so to rest and catch my breath. A convenient log makes for a perfect bench for an extended rest. Hashers continue to straggle past me until I hear the familiar voice of Why Not? I continue upward with Why Not? and Prozac. They are wearing soccer cleats for better traction. They have obviously done this before. I am now in a group of overweight out of shape hashers like myself. Things are sterting to get ugly. Exhausted hashers line the route upwards and there is much bitching and moaning. We are only 30 min and 1K into what is advertised as a 4K trail. Eventually I reach the top. What a relief to stop climbing. I am now alone on trail as it follows a flat ridgeline for several hundred yards and then begins a gentle descent. The jungle here is fairly benign, with no leeches, and few noxious plants. Its really beautiful up here and I feel like I`m on my own little nature hike. Shortly I catch back up with Prozac and Why Not? as we reach an old dirt road. Trail continues up the road but at a much easier grade. A group of mountain bikes overtakes us, hammering up the road in granny gear. We are now with Nurse Rachet and his girlfriend Virgin Blue. Nurse Rachet is nursing some wicked blisters he got from running the RDR in heels, vowing not to make that mistake in Kuching. We come upon the bikers resting at a bend in the road with a natural bench. Time for another sit. Chatting with the cyclists I learn that one of them is an OU graduate, I give him the hook`em sign and say OU sux. By now I have gotten my second wind and going uphill is not so painful. My internal GPS tells me we must be close to 4K by now with no end in sight. Why Not? has hashed here many times and says we still have a ways to go. The road snakes around the hill like a topo line and it seems as if we will just loop around the mountain to the start. Abruptly the road ends and the trail rises sharply. Shit! Not this again! I start upwards and after 20 yards I start to cramp in my inner thigh. WTF? I never get cramps at home and have no idea what to do other than drink more water. Luckily I have followed Prozac`s advice and brought a liter of water on trail. The cramping subsides and I continue up wards until the trail drops sharply off the side of the ridge. There is a sweeper there telling us yes this is true trail and you are 1/2 hour from the end. Thats vaguely reassuring but also disheartening as I have lost my second wind and am in danger of bonking any minute. The steep descent on muddy trails becomes almost vertical. This is getting scary. I catch up to a couple picking their way downward tree by tree. Its like rock climbing. If you`re not hanging onto a tree you are in danger of falling a long way. In some parts there are sapplings that serve as makeshift ropes. I grab one, face uphill and descend backwards.Its more like rappelling than hiking now. The sound of rushing water signals that I am approaching a waterfall. A few more rappels and I am there. YAY! I`m not going to die on the mountain! The waterfall is awesome and Itchy Shirt is there to tell us we`re on the last leg. I immerse myself completely in the cool water at the base of the falls. What the hell, I`m already soaked from head to toe in sweat. Its hard to leave but after 5 minutes I drag myself out to finish trail. A few hundred yards further and we come to a paved road in the Botanical Garden. Big Willie and his wife and daughter are there with water and 100 plus, the local GatorAde. The final 1K procedes down thru the beautifully land scaped Botanical Garden, complete with a troop of monkeys. I make it to the entrance then up a short hill to the start. Its now 6 and we started at 3. Some medium trail. I have never felt so exhausted and am severely dehydrated. I must have looked it as the local harriettes minister to me with 100 plus with salt added. I feel like a zombie. After about 20 minutes I muster the strength to go up to the rest room to change into dry clothes.
Another delicious meal is served but I can barely eat. Slowly I start to return to life. A couple of beers helps. There is a circle. People are iced. A nice slide show with musical accompaniment shows the history of the Penang Harriettes. Its very professional.A harriette does a belly dance. Much better than last nite`s. Enos does some stupid impersonations involving dunking his head in ice water and then getting bombed by ice. A local hasher plays a Hawaiian song on ukulele with 2 harriettes doing the hula. I socialise a little more but am ready for bed by 10.
I get a cab. The driver misunderstands me and takes me to the wrong hotel, several miles in the wrong direction. He then proceeds to get us stuck in a huge Saturday nite traffic jam. What should have been a 10 minute ride turns into almost an hour and then the douchebag charges me more for his time. To top it off I lose my keys in his cab and will never see them again. I enter the hotel in ill humor and want to call Heather. I change into dry shoes and spend the next hour unsuccessfully trying to make an international call. This has turned out to be a really shitty day and I crash at1.

Red Dress Run

The site of the RDR is a colonial era British fort on the waterfront. About 400 registrants hung out drinking draft Tiger beer and admiring each others outfits. Then Nurse Rachet made his appearance. Looking stunning in high heels and custom made mini skirt draped over his ample frame, he looked like he walked straight off the set of "Priscilla Queen of the Desert". I`m surprised he didn`t get picked up for prostitution on trail. Trail proceeds around downtown Georgetown, with police escort no less, to the great amusement of the locals. I am wearing my gimme sarong wrapped just below my armpits. Why Not? finally ties it up right for me. Back at the on-in there is a lively, rowdy circle, then the tables are set for the 9 course dinner. Food keeps coming out, plate after plate, until my eyes glaze over. Then they bring out the shrimp. They are delicious but I am so full by that point that I can only eat one. The DJ is a hasher,KGB, and spins lots of hash appropriate songs, like "Lola" and "Rehab". During dinner we are treated to a cutural program featuring dancers in traditional outfits. Very nice. Then a belly dancing demonstation by a local "he-she".He is built a lot like me but is jiggling his belly fat like crazy.Scary.Prozac is there with Why Not? and I met her brother and sister hashers as well as her 2 grown children. They are all really nice. Tits Ahoy asks if I know Cum Union. I say of course and we comisserate that she married a non-hasher. I met some drunken Chinese hashers who are at the "I love you man" stage of drunkeness. The sihk hasher, Itchy Shirt, untucks his beard for me. Its down to his waist.Midnite rolls around and we are kicked out of the venue and pile into someones car for a ride to the on after at a local pub. After another hour of drinking and harriettes posing on the bar I am done.

Georgetown

Georgetown is the hi-tech capital of SE Asia. There are factories lining the road into town from the airport. The population has exploded in the last 20 years and there are high rise apartments everywhere. Its much larger than I expected; around 1 million people. My hotel is in the funky old part of town. The room is spartan but the bed is comfortable, the AC cranks and the water is hot. The street its on is not heavily trafficed so its fairly quiet. Not a bad deal for $20/nite.
There was a pre lube run last nite(Thurs) that started at the Chinese Creamatorium. A creepy building, it looks like a Chinese temple in front and Auschwitz in back, complete with smokestacks! It is surrounded by a Chinese graveyard overgrown with vegetation almost completely obscuring most of the graves. The complete opposite of our well mancured cemetaries. Trail goes up thru the cemetary, crossing some graves as it went, up to the base of a large, jungle covered hill.Up we went. And up and up and up. Damn this shit is getting steep! Up along a ridgeline the trail climbed thru root covered boulders the size of a house. Its very beautiful and the vegetation is not too thick. I eventually lose contact with the FRBs in front and am overtaken by the DFLs. Near the top the sweeper catches up to me. I asked if I was really DFL and what happened to all those people behind me who never passed me? He replies that they turned around and went back down to the beer. So its a secret turkey/eagle split with the locals turning back for beer and leaving the visitors to bust their asses going up, then down the steep hill. Fuckers. Trail is laid in printed squares of paper stuck to leaves. The sweeper`s job is to remove them as the pack passes. Finally near the top there is an improved trail. The descent is much easier and we reach the end(beginning) at sunset to find a large pack enjoying cold Tiger beer. Beer is fairly expensive here so the hash charges for the beer and the water. The beermeister, Tiger Sam, spends the whole hash selling beer from the back of a cargo truck.A hasher asks if I saw a tiger on trail and pissed myself.I looked down and my shorts are soaked with sweat. A hot meal is set up and the local food is delicious. Unfortunately the travel and heat have killed my appetite and I can barely eat 1/2 a plate.Circle finally convenes with the RA calling people out to sit on the ice as their down down song is sung.After about 20 minutes of this circle breaks with out Swing Low!? A hulking Hammersly hasher named Enos swears he met me somewhere. I asked are you sure you`re not mistaking me for MR Magoo? He says no Magoo is much fatter than you. He enquires about SMB. She is quite the popular harriette! He brings me up to speed on the ongoing soap opera that inter-hash must be.
The Penang Hash is a real polyglot outfit, much like the city itself. There are Indians. Chinese, Malaysian, Aussies,various European ex-pats all chatting away. English is the lengua franca however. I mentioned Why Not? and everyone here loves her. I will see her tonite at the Red Dress Run. After making lots of new friends I bum a ride back to the hotel with Axe Hole and just Beer. After a nightcap at a local Chinese Kareoke bar watching Italy get beat by my Slovakian homeboys I finally sleep in a bed.

24 hr flight

I lucked out and my seat was at the front of the cabin so no one in front of me and plenty of legroom. I decided to stay awake as long as I could to try to adjust to the 11 hour time difference(or was it 13?). Singapore Airlines has a great on board entertainment system with dozens of movies and cd`s available. I stayed awake thru Moscow, where we deplaned, went thru security and waited around a too small transit area to reboard. Moscow fron the air is unlike any city I have seen. Mile after mile of huge apartment blocks interupted by patches of dense forest. Also they have a nuclear power plant right in the middle of town. After being awake almost 24 hrs it was time to crash. But sleeping on a plane sux so I got maybe 6 hours broken up into 2 hr chunks. The food on Singapore Airlines is supposed to be the best in the world, but its still airline food. By the last breakfast service I just passed. Finally got off in Singapore at 6AN, still an hour before dawn. Singapore airport is huge. Its all carpeted. There`s probably a square mile of carpet there. A 2 hr layover followed by an easy 1 hr flight and I arrived in Penang around 9:30 local time,around 35 hours from my arrival at Austin Bergstrom. I still don`t know where my luggage is!

Test

OK hopefully I can figure this out.