Twenty-two years on from the watery demise of Midnight, and the auspices were poor. No Grand Master, no Deputy Grand Master, no Screw, no Sergeant, - and that was just the beginning. No Choir Master, no Religious Advisor, no Hash Horn, no Hash Flash.
No Normal. ?
Lunchtime hit, and the eucalypt-scented smoke clouds were seen billowing up through the stratosphere from the middle of the Creswick state forest, just as the absent GM sent a garbled message that the meat and the BBQ trailer were unable to attend due to lack of interest. And then the picnic ground was full with Grey Nomads sipping on their Chardonnay, and father/son school holiday bonding efforts.
Luckily the spirit of the Sovereign Hash kicked in, Lois Lane and Bent Nose to the rescue, Bent with a mercy trip from the NSW border - without time to practice his trailer reversing skills prior to driving out to Slaty Creek Picnic Ground # 1.5 and delivering the goods. Rowdy had planned to drive through the forest to the on-on, and home the same way, but was turned back by DSE protecting their fire zone; Sillic navigated Reary through an inordinate number of obstacles, and through DSE road blocks to prove that they could; I think they drove home the long way.
Sixteen lucky Hashers turned up, five on the run, nine on the walk, and Rear Entry and Sillic to protect the campfire, on what turned out to be a magnificent evening, with perfect weather, perfect trail, a perfect drink stop and a perfect half moon once the sun had set. A few Furphys were told. Criss Cross screwed the walk, which managed to improve itself by not following trail, and included an on-back to return to where trail wasn't. Illogical but effective.
Mountie screwed the run, and despite having no idea where she was, and running all on backs, then being cut short in her screw by Criss Cross, - who is used to finishing first and fails to understand why any female should then wish to continue - , also eventually managed to deliver for the 21st time her Ode to Midnight Limerick. On On Midnight.
Welcome back to Dazed and Confused, significant runs to Glider, D & C, and someone else.
Bent Nose rightly asserted himself as the alpha male and took upon hosting duties. Plucka was encouraged to the sergeanting role, and performed as well as a Collingwood player without steroids.
Lois deflected any charges heading her way by announcing her Aussie heritage and citizenship, and BP coped with the cricket result by staying at home and sulking. Criss Cross was on fire and charged our Kiwi friends with poisoning the poor Magpie players with tainted meat during their Queenstown summer training camp. No arguments there.
Sillic blamed being "infirm" for the fact that he was sitting through the charges. Consensus was that he is more likely "un-firm". He took a drink. On a similar theme, D & C was charged for confessing a soft pillow between her legs helped her to sleep. Rear Entry offered to supply her with his soft equivalent. Pebbles looked on with interest. And Plucka and D & C were noted to be wearing distinctive, highly coloured footwear, all the better to cover their camel feet?
How many Hashers does it take to set up the barby? Most of them, all at one.
How many Hashers does it take to reverse a trailer? All of them, all at once.
Once Glider managed to crank up the flame on the very stable and fastidiously levelled barby, sausages and steak were cooked to perfection, complemented by a salad of leaves of mixed lettuce, Kalamata olives, diced Australian tasty cheese and slivered tomato, with a drizzle of French dressing, then bread, butter and a selection of sauces to taste.
The night was concluded by pissing on the fire. All were happy.
Next week's run is from the GM's house in Miners Rest.