(We are not responsible for the content of the published Hash Trash, and have no idea who is!)
Want to Keep in Touch??
If you have any pictures, stories or memories that you want sharing on this site then you can send them on to a familiar committee member and ask them to pass it on, or else mail us directly at: jah3@jah3.com
ON ON
Run No: 221
Date: Sunday March 19, 2006
Hares: To ‘n Fro, Dildo & Mud Devil
Place: Llanrumney Farms, St. Mary
A large number of hashers – obediently clad in various shades of green – descended on the rural village of Llanrumney for Hash Run 221…St. Patricks Hash! Several arrived real early in order to claim the 60+ FREE souvenir t-shirts sponsored by O’Dwyer. These went in a fffflash and in addition to getting t-shirts, the earlybirds relaxed in Pet’s Bar, enjoying an early swig of rum or else just laughing at those who came too late for the t-shirts.
After some instructions from Dildo, To ‘n Fro, Mud Devil etc. we all set off briskly. But oops… after only a couple of minutes, the sharp eyes of none other than our hash master, Rasta Shakespeare spotted an ‘X’ and we all ran back to the big circle at the start. The correct trail took us through a barbed wire fence, down into a DRY riverbed, across a field, then eventually over to the other side of the road. Trekking on, we traversed some interesting landscape – both natural and man-made it seemed. We all stared in wonderment but realized that much of what we were hiking on was terrain that had been identified for road construction and some pretty heavy equipment had obviously been involved in significantly changing the appearance of the landscape. There were hills and valleys. Sometimes relatively loose and clay type soil. [This was all part of the preparatory work for the latest (Ocho Rios-Port Antonio) segment of the North Coast Highway.] Finally we scrambled down a “mountainside” before all disappearing into the jungle.
After another false trail we all had no choice but to get into the riverbed – the WET one this time. Although the water was only knee deep, Mud Devil immediately dived in and, amazingly, fully clothed, started to swim in water that was less than 2 feet deep ! “I guess that’s why they call her Mud Devil “, said one observer as we went on on till the trail led us out of the water. We passed the remains of an old (perhaps 19th century) sugar factory and then a long stretch to the anticipated beer stop right beside a river fording.
ON IN was initially through the river, which at times was waist deep, then along the roadside from where in the distance we could see property that was supposedly once owned by 17th century buccaneer/pirate Henry Morgan. The name “Llanrumney”, we learned, actually comes from its namesake in Wales, where Morgan was born. Thanks for the history lesson, chaps!
The Down Down ceremony (sponsored by Guinness, if you please) welcomed 11 new runners plus anniversary recognition for long-time hashers like Split Ends, BMW, Pole Position, Stitcher, The Maniac and I forget who else. The hares (road engineers or something like that) were punished for trying to convince us that they actually do work on the days that they’re not hashing. A resurrected Bulby was recognized for all the mayhem he’d been creating in Spanish Town. There was a naming ceremony for Chatterbox and Immaculate Perception. We all then finished off all the beers and enjoyed an excellent meal prepared at Pets’ Bar and Pork Centre.
Another great weekend, highlighted by another fantastic hash! ON ON!
Run No: 217
Date: Sunday January 22, 2006
Hares: King Size, Angie & Co
Place: Crooked River (?), Clarendon
Hey, good turn out and a great number of rural spectators to set us on our way – only half an hour late!!
You don’t often see a circle at the start before the run even gets underway, but the right trail (or was it left trail – usual Hash confusion reigned) was finally located.
No false trails of note, but most agreed it was a good run, included hill climbing, hill sliding (loved that old bridge) water walking and stone hopping, down the river, through someone’s bath room, then past two lovely ladies doing their Sunday washing to finally climb up through the kitchen to beers and hash circle.
Excellent soup served before the formalities (!!) commenced with many ”crims” chastised for unspeakable acts, some of which included:
Wheeler Dealer for introducing mild bestiality after being seen hugging a goat (see joke later).
Cotton Head for assuming the position of Tarzan, and then having to be reminded that Tarzan was in fact a white man.
Hares, Angie and King Size for totally diabolical directions
Caramba for dressing for Carnival too early.
Hares again as well as Hash Master for in fact setting the Hash in Pumpkin and NOT Crooked River;
and
Hubert Earl for introducing a most volatile concoction to the Hash.
Following this new names were duly awarded and christened with Red Stripe in the traditional manner (viz: Sometimes, Stiffi, Pumpkin and Assurance)
A hoard of newcomers were welcomed,
And leavers Dieter and Alan (Bogger / JAH3’s first Hash Master) were duly fare welled – we wish them luck wherever they next hash
Joke later.
Man walks into his wife’s bedroom with a goat under his arm
Man – “this is the cow that I go to bed with when you’ve got a headache”
Wife – “that’s not a cow under your arm it’s a goat”.
Man – “who said I was talking to you!!”
Run No: 214
Date: 20 November 2005
Hares: Bogger, Roger & Claire
Place: Tulloch Estates, Bog Walk
I’m sorry I didn’t carry my notebook and pen for the instructions given by Bogger at the start of the hash. I’m sure I wasn’t the only person confused. Nobody understood why we should be on the look out for one or two vertical erect poles in the bushes but there was a look of keen anticipation on the face of at least one female hasher…
Anyway, on on up and out along the same pathway that we drove in. The hares promised us a tropical rain forest and that is surely what we got. Up, up we went and pretty soon we were in the midst of a jungle with a variety of trees, vines and lush lovely greenery. The more knowledgeable and erudite amongst us were heard trying to identify the types of trees and vegetation – this impressed the majority of hashers who were merely trying to work up a good thirst and then quench it with a few beers later on. We all undertook a pretty steep and long climb but it was really cool and shady and actually quite pleasant indeed. Turning off the main pathway, we went even further into the maze of trees always following the drops of flour this time along a long track that appeared to be freshly cut.
Eventually emerging from the thick greenery, it was now time to head down. As we descended, we heard the sound of water and realized it was time for the first river crossing that Bogger perhaps had mentioned. The water was ankle deep and on the other side of the river, the vegetation was totally different. It seemed to be acres and acres and acres of bananas! As we proceeded through, we took care not to run too close to the plants and the treacherous pieces of string that were strung up all over the place to keep the plants upright. In addition to bananas, we saw lots of coconut palms, a coconut husking station, breadfruit and other things. Then came the next river crossing – not a crossing, actually but instead we’d have to make our way in clear knee/waist deep water to the end of the trail…where a couple cooler boxes of Cold Ones (strategically placed in the river) awaited us.
Those who were thusly inclined donned swimming gear and had a good time swimming, diving and generally splashing around in the refreshing river water near the fording. The Down Down ceremony led by Deputy Assistant Acting Hash Master Burp congratulated the hares for a great run and location but at the same time punished them for not using the customary circles to indicate that a choice of path was coming up. Several “criminals” were punished including a naïve female who marveled at the fact that the beer was cold. (Well, Love, that’s the reason we get up to all this isn’t it???!!) There were about 10 new runners including Dildo and Mud Devil who we expect we’ll be seeing more of in the coming weeks and months.
After the Down Down ceremony we were provided a delicious meal of chicken and vegetables and rice and I’m not sure whether it was because my metabolism was so revved up from the longish hike or whether it was the beers proving to be effective appetizers but the meal, although substantial, absolutely melted in my stomach ! Many Thanks to John Revolting who believe-it-or-not, somehow, amazingly got a barbecue going in the back of his truck and was able to provide a “top up”, feeding the multitude with 5 fishes.
Well THAT Ladies and Gentlemen is the end of my story. It’s also the end of my running shoes which I think this time – with assistance from that last 500m stretch in the river – must finally, finally, surely, surely, definitely, POSITIVELY have to be thrown out now. Who am I ? I’m the hasher in the spanking NEW running shoes at the next hash…(unless I can once again perform a miracle on the old ones). See you there!
Run No: 200-201
Date: 21-23 May 2005
Hares: Rasta Shakespeare, John Revolting & Company
Place: (a) Long Bay; (b) Reach
(200 Run weekend)
The three day anniversary started with a relatively short but forceful pub crawl, where only Hips………. to see it, please click below:
Run No: 197
Date: 17 April 2005
Hares: Capt. Compass, Game Boy, Seahorse and Cotton Head
Place: Farquhars Beach, Clarendon
“ALTHOUGH BLESSED with an untouched landscape, including a black sand beach, Farquhar’s Beach in Clarendon has remained mostly hidden from the world…” No-one is quite sure when the first Farquhars came to Jamaica. As Hashers know, Columbus stumbled on Jamaica in 1494 while on his way to India. But notwithstanding that messup, he wasn’t a Farquhar and as he was in charge of the ship, crew members dared not call him that! According to records, a few Farquhars came to Jamaica prior to 1800. Among their involvements was the Castle Wemyss Sugar Estate in Trelawny. Gilbert got married to Catherine Farquhar in 1802. These were true Farquhars and they soon had a son. Shortly after, it is said, the child’s father suddenly left to live with another woman in another parish and one is not quite sure what happened to the motherFarquhar. With regard to the son, one rumour is that he – while still quite young – for some reason changed his name and moved to Clarendon. It’s also not clear what eventually became of that wayward little Farquhar.
MAYBE AT THIS HASH WE’LL GET SOME CLUES AS TO WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO THE WHOLE LOT OF THEM FARQUHARS!
In addition to the above preamble, one may recall that the directions to this hash had indicated that once we’d got to that famous Alligator Hole, we were pretty much at Farquhars Beach. The hares’ gracious invitation, therefore, to take a swim at that same Beach was therefore the furthest thing from most minds when we got to that place. Best wishes to our half minded friends that obviously had reached there early and were seen happily emerging from the waters when we arrived.
Most hashers in fact got there early. We were glad to welcome back Split Ends to the hash and to southern Clarendon – she’ll never forget the experience she had on her last time out. The beach itself was indeed remote…lots of sunshine and not a tree in sight. The fisherfolk in the area were very friendly and a bit surprised to see us, the large group of rabble rousers descending on their environs.
So, after a few brief instructions from Captain Compass, Game Boy, Seahorse and Cottonhead, the hash got underway. Off went Rasta Shakespeare, Rice ‘n Peas, Wheelnutz, new recruit Silicone Valley and amazingly the Maniac, all at breakneck speed. The landscape was typical black sand beach-front with all the expected vegetation. The Front Running *B@$t@??#s soon had to slow down and take their time climbing through the mangled shoreline foliage. You couldn’t avoid getting wet as the trail took us right across the shallow mouth of the Milk River and on to another long, long sandy stretch. This was no fun – especially if you’re trying to run – and all this took the wind out of some of the too speedy FRBs who wisely decided to slow down and enjoy the landscape as it became more varied and interesting.
The trail then led us inland and after navigating one too many false trails on the dry, flat Clarendon macka-brush, we seemed to be heading directly towards the banks of the Milk River…the DEEP Part this time. One worried hasher screamed “I’m not swimming across THAT !!!”, but as we came closer, a pleasant surprise awaited us – The hares had arranged a boat !!! The 10-minute boat ride down the Milk River to meet the trail on the other side was indeed very pleasant! A cool and calm respite from the worries of the world (and the worries of this hash!) All that was missing was a cooler box of Red Stripe. But that would soon come: after some more hashing through the bushes we arrived at the welcome beer stop.
The remainder of the trail took us along established roadway/path, and we got to interact with a few residents as we trekked back. “Are you guys crazy ?”, one guy asked…”running around like this in the sun hot ?” We tried to explain the nonsense we were up to and he eventually seemed to understand – especially when we said that we were heading towards a truck filled with cold beer. In turn, Jailbait and a few others asked him what happened to all the Farquhars we expected to find there. His explanations were quite enlightening and revealing.
The Down Down ceremony was followed by a tasty meal. There was an inevitable shower of rain which came just in time to cool things down.
Another great hash at a very interesting location.
ON ON!!!
Run No: 167
Date: 25 January 2004
Hares: Pothole & Rasta Shakespeare
Place: Cable & Wireless Satellite Earth Station at Prospect Pen, Pamphret, nr Yallahs, St. Thomas
The European Space Agency has lost contact with it’s Mars Lander, “Beagle 2”. Just in case the spacecraft missed Mars, and returned to Earth, the Jamaica Hash House Harriers set out to scour the parish of St. Thomas, in the East of the island, in search of wreckage:
There was some consternation in the days leading up to the Hash, that the only things we’d find wrecked, would be the brains and stomachs of those Hashers who celebrated Burns Night, on the eve of the Hash run. But copious quantities of both Scotch and Haggis didn’t prevent the persons participating in both events turning up on time. Even one of the Hares was seen at the Burns Night event,… wearing a skirt!
Right on cue, whilst the Hares were setting the trail, the skies opened and sprinkled a light drizzle to keep them cool. But the drizzle didn’t amount to much, and simply helped to moisten the shreddie, and keep it in place (and some of the coastal parts of the run were rather windswept, threatening to blow the trail marks away!)
The Hash set off with close to 70 runners. They hadn’t travelled more than 10 yards before reaching the first circle, where the runners were persuaded to “take the left turn”, to go to the roof of the abandoned building, and enjoy one of the finest views in Jamaica, overlooking the Yallahs Pond, the Coconut Groves, the 220 acres of rolling hills, the 92ft diameter satellite dish, and out to the Caribbean Sea. Hmmm, I hear you ask: How many of those features can the Hash possibly visit in one run?? Answer: All of them!
The Hares tempted the Runners with a false trail into the pedestal building of the 92ft diameter satellite antenna, but by this time, the front runners had become wise to the delaying tactics, and some passed up the diversion.
Then came a fork in the trail: An ‘easy’ trail (up the hill) and a more difficult trail (down the hill). Sounds backwards, right? Wrong! The plan worked, and when the two paths joined up, it put the women and children ahead of the macho runners who had taken the difficult trail!
At about this time, behind the scenes, things started to go wrong: The Hares discovered that one of the caterer’s helpers had been involved in a car accident the night before. He was currently trying to extricate the car he was driving from the ditch where he ‘parked’ it. And at exactly the same time, the Hares were told that the car parked in the ditch was also the transportation for the 100+ coconuts, from the coconut grove at bottom of the hill to the Hash Circle at the top! And if that wasn’t enough, the caterer was also relying on that same car to carry the food! Here’s where Pothole jumps to the rescue: Except….. Pothole has the beer for the BeerStop in the back of his car! So, in the rush to get the coconuts and food to the Hash Circle, Pothole ends up being late to the BeerStop! A dozen Hashers had already passed the point, and were heard shouting from the bushes “where’s the B*^%*(Y BeerStop?”. Serves ’em right for running so fast!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch,…. a new Hasher, on his very first run, decides to impress the others by saying that he can do a Triple Salchow(Michelle Kwon Triple Salchow) better than Michelle Kwon. Ouch! It’s much easier when you are on ICE! The poor guy sprained his ankle, and hobbled back to towards the start point, awaiting the official “Hambulance” which was still occupied ferrying coconuts, collecting food, and delivering Beer to the Runners at the mid-point of the run! (Jamaicans have a tendency to put H’s on the front of any noun beginning with a vowel, but in this case it is the Hash Ambulance!).
The Hashers who were still standing even though they hadn’t got their Beer at the BeerStop, and had decided not to try the Triple Salchow, continued on the trail, and down to the edge of the Caribbean Sea. One hasher exclaimed that they had found the Beagle2, but on inspection it turned out to be the radiator of an Austin 1100, neatly placed inside a discarded Japanese microwave oven on a rubbish dump! Oh well, maybe the Beagle did land on Mars after all…
The Hash trail skirted the salt waters of the Caribbean Sea, and then crossed over to the shore of a brackish inland pond. Lady Hashers were warned not to grab at anything looking like a handbag lying in the water: Crocodiles had been seen in the area less than 6 weeks beforehand! All hashers and children made it past this potential obstacle, and the trail turned inland, towards the start point. All that was left now was to climb the 320feet hill from the shore to the starting point!
By this time, the Hambulance had temporarily finished with its other duties, and rides were offered to all the Hashers climbing the hill, with only a few takers!
The DownDowns proceeded, almost to schedule. Of course, or very own Michelle Kwon impersonator was welcomed, firstly as a new runner, and then promptly called back up in front of Grand Master for possibly the earliest naming ceremony in the history of JAH3: He got his name half way round his first run! He shall now be known as “LIMP”.
The DownDown also included the first burial rites performed at a JAH3 Hash: It was heard on the local news that gangsters had shot and killed a drug lord called “Bulby”. So we thought it only fit to administer the last rites to our very own “Bulby”. “Vicar” officiated at the proceedings, and the body of Bulby was anointed and laid to rest, in one of the most beautiful resting places in the country!
The Hash community wished farewell to Maiden Plum and Pothole, who are travelling on to other distant shores, and hope they end up in a country with an active Hash community. Pothole was still busy ferrying coconuts, water, people and food around, and nearly missed his own Departure DownDown!
The remainder of the DownDown proceeded as normal, and the meeting adjourned to enjoy a delicious meal of Fish Tea (Soup), Jerk Chicken, Curry Goat, Rice’N’Peas, and Coconut Jellies….
….and then, to everyone’s surprise, two of the Front Runners who had earlier omitted entering the Satellite Antenna building, decided now was a good time to go climb to the top of the antenna: Oh, but wait… shouldn’t someone tell them about the hornet’s nests scattered liberally around the antenna superstructure? Ouch! Too late! One of the two was last seen discarding his T-shirt, complete with swarm of Hornets, and running faster than we’ve ever seen him move, in the direction of the relative safety of Kingston.
END NOTE: During the course of the hash, we were informed that the entire Cable and Wireless earth station facility was now on sale. This was really a marvel of engineering when it was set up in 1972. The sellers will have to come down on the price, though…during the hash, we discovered that all the capabilities of the earth station can now be accomplished by any basic Nokia cell phone!!!
Run No: 143
Date: 26 January 2003
Hares: Scarecrow, Yellow Crapper & the H2K crew
Place: Freetown, Clarendon (Highway 2000)
It was promised that after this hash, we’d all become experts in highway design and all the civil engineering skills that go with it. The first test was to actually FIND the start of the hash. THAT first test for the potential engineers went smoothly enough and we all gathered in the wide open space (perhaps the site of a future toll booth) for the hash course in highway engineering.
The clouds gathered ominously and a few drops of rain appeared – much to the delight of many of the 70+ hashers that had gathered for the start. “I don’t like hashing in the rain,” said one young female hasher who immediately retreated back into the safety of her car. Overhearing this, the hares, like good engineers, contrived with the heavens to halt what seemed like it would have been a certain downpour. The rest of the day would remain comfortably cool, sans precipitation and excellent conditions for the afternoon’s exertions.
After some brief words from the hash master and the hares, we immediately set off – first crossing mountains of stones, sand and aggregate (in various sizes), before actually traversing a 200 metre length section of a freshly paved portion of Highway 2000. In fact it was so fresh that all hashers got their soles blackened from a short length of roadway that had some black stuff on it.
Rasta Shakespeare, John Revolting and the FRB*’s raced on ahead and then followed the trail to the right – off the highway and then down into some stony tracks. Then came a decision circle and they all chose to go left and had to chase round and round and round. Of course, in the hash, no act of extreme athleticism goes unpunished, and the front runners soon found that they ended up right smack at the back of the pack – behind those who had taken the correct turn at the decision point.
Then came the tunnel ! Seventy-something brave hashers entered this circular 10ft diameter tunnel and trekked for what seemed to be several hundred metres. There were lots of screams. We recognized the shrieks of Full Service and a few others as well as the calming words of The Vicar as we approached the end of the tunnel and emerged into lush green vegetation (aka bush !!!). We learned that the tunnel was in fact part of a proposed drainage facility for the highway. A couple of obviously impressed hashers were heard listening to some explanations… “Good drainage design is a matter of properly balancing technical principles and data with the environment and giving due consideration to other factors such as safety and economics etc etc and blah blah…the fields of hydrology and the hydraulics of highway drainage are rapidly evolving and engineers need to keep abreast of the latest developments etc etc and blah blah blah…” Well, WHATEVER !
The next 45 minutes or so would be spent running around in the bush. This was almost like a forest. “I never knew we had rain forests like this in the middle of the island”, said one new Jamaican hasher, “if these Highway 2000 people have to clear this land for the highway, they have a LOT of work to do !” There were several false trails. All were (thankfully) very well marked and they allowed the opportunity to have even more fun exploring and observing the varied vegetation in the hinterland.
The trail took us to some rough access road. We followed under a highway bridge (noting the static and dynamic vertical and horizontal alignment) then turned right and it was obvious that we were on our way back to the starting point.
Everyone enjoyed the run – well, ALMOST everyone. Maiden Plum was rattled about something and disappeared before the start of the down down ceremony. Pothole was however on hand and volunteered to take the down down on her behalf. There were several newcomers and hash names were given to Yellow Crapper and ScareCrow. Next came a very delicious meal – fish tea, curry goat barbecue chicken and lots of vegetables.
The general consensus was that this was one of the better hashes in recent memory. However, as far as Highway 2000 is concerned, there definitely is a LOT of work to be done. The moniker Highway 3000 as coined by our wise Grand Master, doesn’t now seem to be too far fetched. Fortunately, thanks to the hash course in highway design, the authorities now have 70+ new highway engineering experts that can be called on to assist !
ON ON !!!
*FRB = Front Running Bastard
Run No: 134
Date: 06 October 2002
Hares: Split Ends & Rice ‘n Peas
Place: Pre-Election Hash, JGS New Kingston
12PM. Sunday the sixth of October. In celebration of Jamaica’s world-famous free and fair election process, the Jamaica Hash House Harriers dedicated their 134th run to the island’s 14th general election (or was it dedicated to the upcoming Hash Elections at the AGPU ?). With just 10 days until polling would begin, this was a perfect opportunity for Jamaican hashers to get in some much needed practice at running away very fast from tricky situations.
Rumours that Jimmy Carter was to oversee the entire Election Hash process proved unfounded. With the precision of a polling-station security force the hashers streamed from the Jamaican German Society 30 minutes after they were due to start.
Early pollsters were not confident of a successful hash when it emerged that Split Ends had mistaken her role as a hare and had been shopping for Shampoo instead of helping to set the hash (we kid you not dear hashers).
Untroubled by the complete lack of a trail, the hares – Rice ‘n’ Peas and Split Ends – declared that the hash was along a (fairly) straight road and was without false trails – making shredded paper unnecessary. They added that this environmentally-conscious decision was saving the hash taxpayer money – and so – stretching those Red-Stripe tokens even further.
Hashers spread along Trafalgar and onto Hope before being turned left by a JLP rally barricade at Half Way Tree. This turn threw the route into disarray and hashers dispersed throughout New Kingston following any trail that might lead them back to the beer. The trail never appeared.
Haggis and others had heard a rumour of a beer stop in Emancipation Park. The rumour was true, but the stop had been organised by Split Ends. And so as hashers sweated and passed-out in the early afternoon heat, Split Ends meandered happily through the aisles of Hi-Lo supermarket deciding between Revlon and Head ‘n’ Shoulders.
After medical treatment for heat-stroke, hashers limped back to the Jamaican German Society. Ten yards from the society entrance, Energiser Bunny spotted the Hash’s only trail mark – a ripped up paper bag that Rice ‘n’ Peas had dropped the night before during his drunken fast-food binge.
It was only right that the hares be repeatedly punished at the down-downs. Other punishments included Sex on the hash (Spider Man), playing with dog shit (Sexy Taxi), and profiling (Speedy Gonzalez).
Run No: 109 & 110
Date: 24-25 November 2001
Hares: No Service & Drowned Rat
Place: River Lodge
I had never been to this part of Jamaica before and I was really looking forward to checking out River Lodge. You never know quite what to expect on one of these hash runs. But each one I’ve done so far has been totally enjoyable and I have always learned something new.
The Hash experience at River Lodge fitted well into the previous experiences. It was good to explore and get to know this part of the island. Saturday night’s experience was very good. To top off the short flashlight (torch) run, we had a very nice dinner and of course lots of liquid refreshment. I almost forgot to mention the storyteller. That was also something new for the Hash, I think. Following the story with still more liquid refreshment made all the meanings and lessons from the long tale become very, very clear indeed. Most of us – except for a couple of sleepwalkers – were able to sleep quite well.
For Sunday, the number more than doubled, as several more hashers and virgins (newcomers) came across just for the day. It was a very long but quite enjoyable hike in the Robins Bay area. The landscape was quite varied – sometimes sandy beach, sometimes cliff, sometimes rocky coastline, sometimes pastureland, sometimes jungle (someone said they saw a wild animal up in a tree – I don’t believe him !), several rivers to cross and finally, a majestic waterfall and a lovely natural pool ! It was well worth the hike. The only thing missing at this point was Red Stripe but we knew that was coming up soon.
For those who were out of breath hiking to the waterfall, the ride back on the little boats was also quite a breathtaking adventure.
On getting back, several rounds of beer were enjoyed before the down down ceremony. This week, we had a visiting Grand Master, Patchwork Quilt, who was made Master of Ceremonies for the day. Patchwork has been hashing for more than 25 years all over the world and came prepared in his official hash vest and badges. In recent years, he hasn’t participated in too many family hashes, like ours. To the disappointment of some of us, Patchwork was seen kicking himself and biting his tongue on several occasions – apparently in an effort to avoid saying or doing anything that might send some of the mothers scrambling to cover the ears and eyes of some of the young ones present. Nevertheless, we learned some interesting hash songs. Patchwork also told some of us about the InterAmericas Hash coming up in 2003.
We understand that Hurricane Charlie was one of the roughest hurricanes to hit Jamaica. In a stormy naming ceremony that was also rough and not easily forgotten, the name was passed on to one of the hashers present.
I am really looking forward to the next run.
ON ON!
Run No: 92
Date: Sunday, 20 May 2001
Hares: Burp, Tarzan, Check Onback & Wheeler Dealer
Place: Dallas
This was the third run to take place at Dallas. The hares promised it would be different – and different it certainly was. First of all, do you remember the old saying “What goes up must come down”? Well, I can only remember going up for this hash. Up, up, and then up some more. I don’t think there was any down ! OH YES, there was that one CLIFF that we all fell off of – How could I have forgotten THAT ? Good grief ! The thing is, it happened so quickly. The REALLY lasting memory was the steep upward climb. How could the hares have done that to us ? I think these were the same fellows that set the run at that fish farm in Clarendon. Now, THAT was a good day. That “run” was really just a walk to the food on the buffet table and lots of liquid refreshment. What a great day !
This time, I suppose the hares wanted to make up for that. We’d have to WORK for our refreshments. As mentioned, we climbed up for what seemed to be hours. There was a passing shower to cool us down but that couldn’t dissipate the heat that was being generated in our thighs.
The cries for “ON ON” disappeared a bit as the hashers respected the lovely singing from two of the churches in the area. My, my… Sunday morning services go on pretty late in THIS neck of the woods don’t they ?
After the upward climb and then the “cliff” and a few false trails, the route took us past several barking dogs. We travelled for some distance along the banks of a river before arriving tired and exhausted at Unity Bar for the Down Downs. The Red Stripe was extra refreshing on this occasion – a good appetizer for the tasty curried goat and ackee that was to come.
There were several newcomers to the run. Among the Down Down awardees was Maniac for…well for being a Maniac and No Service for…you guessed it ! A naming ceremony took place for Billy Goat, Nanny Goat and the Kids. We hope this cures them of their allergy. Debra was made Hash Idiot for the week. Halfway through the hash she was heard asking the tired puffing hashers for the gas station. Gas Station ? What Gas Station ? Haggis’ advice was for her to catch a bee and wait for it to pee then she could use the BP that came out – but she figured it wouldn’t be enough to fill her tank.
OK Debra. We understand your predicament. After all, we ARE in DALLAS. You know…like… Oil country ! Why, Bush comes from here for crying out loud. [I won’t swear, but I’m pretty sure we even ran into a few bushes during the trail]. We’re not looking for barrels of crude. The least we’d expect to be able to find is a couple gallons of fuel for the car!
Run No: 86
Date: Sunday, 25 February 2001
Hares: Dusty & Company
Place: Dusty’s Place, Red Hills
After the “Diner’s Paradise” at Café Aubergine last time, we arrived at Dusty’s Place expecting further gastronomical delights in the Feast that the host and his mates was preparing for us. You should’ve seen them coming up Dusty’s driveway – several of them with their tongues hanging out their mouths …not really because of the steep driveway but mostly in anticipation of getting their choppers around the fresh roast pig, baked chicken and fish that was promised.
But wait a minute…what’s this Hash coming to ? We’re not doing this just for the food, are we ? We’re really in it for the exercise and okay, maybe a little beer to quench our thirst, right ?
Anyway a fairly large number gathered at the start and, as a sudden shower came down, Dusty led everyone back out the gate. Once outside, we took a left turn another left at the cross roads and down into a little valley. As the rain came down heavier, we went past several nice houses – some still under construction – and a lot of barking dogs. The showers had apparently washed away some of the shreddy so some of us had to do a little guessing to determine where check points should have been.
This run had a bit in it for everybody: some nice long stretches for the runners plus some nice long false trails, which gave the walkers time to catch up at the checkpoint. Some of us had run past one of these checkpoints all the way to what turned out to be a false trail. When we came back, not only did we meet the walkers, but also a water stop which wasn’t there when we passed the first time.
By now it had stopped raining and the afternoon had a clean crisp feel to it. The clouds were quickly disappearing and the sun was peeping out. We all had a view of the plains of Kingston – from the hotels in New Kingston to the cranes on the waterfront all the way over to the airport and Port Royal. The hash route took us through sections of Plantation Heights. A glimpse over to the east revealed some agricultural cultivations and some swamp land – apparently where a river was making its way to the sea.
The hardest part of this hash was the last few chains coming up to the entrance of Dusty’s Place. We were again faced with the steep (and long !) driveway.
The longish down down ceremony recognized a fair number of newcomers from several different nationalities – including a couple from Uruguay, some Brits, Canadians and Americans and of course some Jamaicans including one of the nation’s famous bobsledders. It was announced that a hasher was spied recently receiving an award in a body building contest and that he should come forward to be recognized: To everyone’s amazement, Twinkle Toes danced forward hopefully. The correct recipient of the award however, was really Awesome. Next, bringing new meaning to the term down down, came the food feast: the fish was the first to go, followed by the chicken. Like magic, two whole roasted pigs which had been prepared for the occasion, also disappeared – all down downed by the hungry hashers.
Run No: 79
Date: Sunday, 19 November 2000
Hares: Burp, Dr. Livingston, Tarzan
Place: Silver Hill Bridge, Portland
Standing waiting to pay the fee to participate in the 79th hash, I surveyed the terrain. A bridge, a road, a hill, I wondered which route we would take. It was noon and the sun was high in the sky. The hashers started “ON ON” and naturally we headed in the direction of the hill. Physical exertion is elementary to the hash.
Of course we took the first wrong trail and headed down a steep slippery slope. Back on track, we trekked along the hillside on a tangerine filled trail. I was concentrating on every step of the narrow, muddy way that my head was permanently down and I could not enjoy the lush green Portland countryside. We heard the sound of a river and we were forewarned that we would be getting wet. I came prepared with swimsuit and trainers but nothing prepared me for the walk in the river.
Step by step we waded in the cool, clear river. Deeper and deeper we headed downstream. Over rocks, across pools, down waterfalls…. the adventure continued. I pinched myself and asked myself “Am I really doing this?” My co-hasher slipped on a rock and submerged in the water. We laughed heartily. Did I ever think I had a good sense of balance? Ooops there I go again wet, wet, wet but then I thought where in the world could I do this? No fear of nasty creatures lurking in the deep dark pools, no ice- cold water to chill the bones, no polluted water to spoil the nature.
Then there came the waterfall of all waterfalls. We looked at each other. We cried out loud. We hesitated. Shall we, shall we not? Fortunately, Dallas the local guide came just in time to steer us away to safety and back on terra firma. The hashers gathered by the bridge, shared experiences and enjoyed a feast of fried chicken and curried goat. Now was the time to view the forest, green hills, breathe in the fresh country air and be grateful for the survival of another hash.
Run No: 74
Date: Sunday, 10 September 2000
Hares: Rice ‘n Peas & Subsa
Place: Gutter Head Blue Hole (nr. Buff Bay/Craigmill)
Most of us had been to or at least had heard of Buff Bay. A few knew about Craigmill. But Gutter Head Blue Hole ??? None of us had ever heard of this place and we left Kingston not altogether convinced that this was not one of the hares’ tall tales or mean schemes.
Fortunately, the directions were reasonably clear and sufficiently detailed so as to prevent anyone from getting lost on the way to the hash. (Believe me, there was lots of opportunity to get lost during the hash !)
After waiting a bit for No Service (who turned up late), and following a few brief announcements (including one from Rice ‘n Peas who gave his apologies for the fact that the run might be a trifle short) we exited the entrance to the Blue Hole, noticed the check point there and chose to go up the hill – some of us more speedily than others. That turned out to be a long false trail and the troops headed back down again past the check point and down some more over an old bridge and further to another check point. Crocodile Cochran and a couple of new hashers turned left to check out the route (which turned out to be false) over the river but most continued straight down the road. After another check point, another longish false trail winding over a large field was taken by almost everyone except Divine Wind.
A small cemetery was discovered, appropriately by The Vicar, who gave his blessings before announcing that it was another false trail.
The correct path took us up a narrow track leading into a lovely tropical forest. It was quite a lovely trail passing all sorts of trees and nice vegetation. Not too many people took a false trail that would have led off the beaten track and further into the woods somewhere but we just kept going enjoying the sights, smells and sounds of nature. After a few more checkpoints and it seems like twice as many false trails, we found ourselves heading towards the sparkling clear fantastic waters of the Gutter Head Blue Hole. Everyone jumped in including a jolly couple who were visiting from Russia who entertained us with their diving abilities.
The Down Downs took place on a little “island” in the middle of the river. Then everyone settled down comfortably on the river’s banks for a tasty meal of curried chicken, rice, roasted breadfruit, salad and water coconuts.
Ahh…the simple things of life !
Run No: 67
Date: Sunday, 04 June 2000
Hares: Burp & Wheeler Dealer
Place: Beverly Hills/Wellington Glades
A significant highlight of Run #67 was the return of Slag Bag who we understand had been discharged only a couple of days before. We wish him well in the coming weeks and hope that they won’t have to take him away to THAT institution again any time too soon. The jury is still out on how effective the therapy was but his behaviour on the hash was pretty much along the same vein as when he left us a couple of months before.
After some brief words from Burp and Wheeler Dealer, a few dozen happy hashers exited the cozy neighbourhood of Wellington Glades heading …west, we suppose… along Wellington Drive. We somehow all knew that we would not have been able to avoid the steep climb of Beverly Hills, so not too many took the false trail that continued further west towards Old Hope Road.
The hike up Beverly Hills was not too bad, actually – not as steep as most people feared. One observed, however, that the longer the uphill climb continued, the greater was the number of walkers as compared to runners. Another interesting, observation was that of Gentleman Beek, apparently out for a Sunday afternoon drive in his exquisite and classic Rolls Royce. Gentleman Beek, an ex-pilot, although not hashing on this particular occasion, is well known to several hashers. To everyone’s amazement, he turned his car towards one of Beverly Hill’s cliffs and seemed to be attempting to drive over it ! “Don’t do it !”, screamed a group of 3 or so hashers (including Bags) who were walking close to the cliff. Another group of hashers who knew Gentleman Beek to be not only an ex-pilot but also an entrepreneur, thought that somehow he had developed a classic new flying machine and stood back expecting to see it soar into the air. Well the good news is that the goodly gentleman was attempting nothing of the sort that both groups of confused hashers were imagining. Relieved, Bags invited him to have a drink with the hashers at the Down Down gathering.
The rest of the hash took us past some great viewpoints – sights of New Kingston, Kingston Harbour, the Mona Reservoir, to name a few. The hashers also ran past the proposed new Long Mountain Housing development and the stalled “Operation Pride” project. Next came the approach back to the starting point along Wellington Drive coming from the Mona Road end.
The Down Downs took place under some nice tents on the lovely grassy landscaping of Wellington Glades. Among the Down Downs were awards to Satan – for setting a bad example (well what the devil do you expect ?); Sunshine – for parading with a bottle of strange golden liquid which was either on the way IN or on the way OUT of SOMEONE’s anatomy; and a couple for being a bit too…er… amourous on the hash. There were several newcomers.
Next, out of the blue, Slag Bag came out with some story about having recently traveled all over the world and something about having been welcomed in countries such as the UK, Canada etc, etc. WELL…YEAH…RIGHT Slag Bag, you go on, we know where you REALLY were. But have no fear, we won’t tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with us!
Run No: 62
Date: Sunday, 02 April 2000
Hares: Subs’a & Slag Bag
Place: Cranbook Flower Forest
The 2-hour drive to the Cranbrook Flower Forest was the longest drive to a JAH3 hash in recent memory. Despite that, a fair sized group numbering about thirty-something arrived expectantly at this lovely oasis for Hash #62. By the way, we don’t know the exact number because No Service, our usual record keeper, on this occasion really gave us NO SERVICE and didn’t turn up ! The counting and record keeping was left to Bags and we all know that he can’t count past 6 (the number of beers he can drink without taking a leak).
Anyway, on to the hash. After a rather complicated briefing session which included certain weird instructions (such as some mention about putting our stuff on a cart or something like that ?…what’s that all about?), the merry group took off up a heartbreaking hike up a hill and then into the forest. A few latecomers caught up at a check point which offered three possible routes – one going down, one through a barbed-wire fence and the other going up. The latter was the apparent correct route and it turned out to be rather pleasant trek along the banks of the river. After negotiating a couple of false trails, the trek led further up along the river bank and eventually to a lovely pool which, it seemed, was right at the source of the river. The water was coming from out of the earth somewhere and was crystal clear and not cold at all. In short, it was TOO inviting. Hashers – male, female, young and not so young all in various stages of dress and undress – started jumping in immediately. Part of the pool was rather deep so those adventurous and talented enough could really show off with their diving skills. Another part was shallow enough so as to allow several of the horrors to wade safely. The swimmers were really getting settled at this point enjoying the fantastic pool swimming and splashing about and for a while forgetting the day’s agenda. It was too good to last… “FALSE TRAIL”, Slag Bag was heard to blurt out and the troops reluctantly came out of the pool and retraced their steps for several chains until the correct path was found.
ON ON we went taking another path through the woods eventually arriving at a riverside barbecue. We then realised that a handful of the hashers in the pool decided not to come out of the water at all and instead chose to follow the river to the barbecue point where the Down Downs took place. Those folks who were not listening keenly at the briefing session now realised that the hash pre-briefing included a suggestion that foodstuff and other items for the barbecue be put on the cart – provided by Cranbrook management – to be transported to the barbecue spot. This barbecue spot was some distance away from the parking lot !
The Down Down Ceremony included awards to the hares (Subs’a and Slag Bag), a group of 3 (who seemed to want to have their own down down ceremony somewhere else) plus several horrors. There were also awards for hashers who made the quote of the week list [here’s one of the winning quotes – “…and if you have maggots growing in your foot (sorry for being so graphic on your radio program my dear, but that’s the real world out there and it really happens) and if you happen to use a towel to wipe that maggot-infested foot, don’t use the same towel to wipe your face !” ugh!!!] On a much much more pleasant note, awards were also handed out to the half-a-dozen or so contestants in the wet T-Shirt contest.
In an energetic Naming ceremony including the customary beer bath new names were given to Fred Flinstone and Wilma Flinstone.
As mentioned, the way back to the parking lot was longer than many expected but it allowed a stroll through some beautiful gardens lined with flowers and orchids of every description. This was a truly delightful location and a well spent day – well worth the longish drive from Kingston.
Run No: 58
Date: Sunday, 06 February 2000
Hares: Haggis, Numb Nuts, Flying Scotsman
Place: Mavis Bank Coffee Factory
Maybe it was the promise of free coffee and a free tour of the coffee factory that encouraged the large group of hashers to turn out REAL EARLY for Run # 58. The early ones were seen strolling leisurely and even having picnics in these foothills of the Blue Mountains. Anyway, Haggis and Numb Nuts and … (Hey, where was the Flying Scotsman ???) soon rounded up the troops and prodded them to get going and even hinted that MAYBE the run could actually pass through the Coffee Factory.
ON ON we went – first thisaway, then back, then thataway, then back as the group manouevered two false trails in succession. Surely enough the path then took us through the Coffee Factory then down a short slope to a check point just below. “Guess that was the promised free tour of the factory,” someone was heard to remark, as the group gathered at the check point and pondered the next move.
SCREECH !!! Just then a car full of latecomers raced up, obviously relieved to have caught the hashers before they had gone off too far.
There were three possible directions – all looking equally false. Rice ‘n Peas, Anton and a couple others took the path to the right, disappearing past a large storage tank and further past a stream and into the bushes. They soon turned back after coming up on the false trail sign. An energetic group consisting of Slag Bag, 007 and a few others took the steep uphill path to the left – actually running at great speed UPHILL. (Come to think of it, we never really saw them come back and haven’t seen them since !!).
Most people – including the hares chose the central path, winding slowly and gently uphill then across a ridge then up some more. We passed a mini “lake”. Most were disgusted with the foul smell but believe it or not, some actually thought the smell was rather sweet and could even detect some faint traces of coffee in the “aroma”. Anyway, up, up, we went some more. The not too fit in the group stopped along the way for a rest. The path took us eventually out to a main road and another circular check point. “CHECK IT OUT !”, yelled someone – pointing to one possible route up hill. Not many went to check it out and the group gladly made their way down the paved road – hopefully back to the starting point.
The down downs were held beside a nice gazebo at the factory. Special awards were made to the hares – Haggis and Numb Nuts and … (Hey, where was the Flying Scotsman ???). The Flying Scotsman was absent but, living up to his name and nationality (known for thrift) and not wanting a drop of beer to waste he flew up a family member to have the drink on his behalf. There was a rather large number of newcomers.
Next came a very nice lecture – “All you want to know about the manufacturing and marketing of coffee”- provided by the knowledgeable and erudite owner of the Mavis Bank Coffee Factory, Mr. Keble Munn. Mr. Munn described the processing details and explained the reason for the foul smelling lake. Then came the free coffee and a proper tour of the factory for those who wanted it.
After the hash, sometime hasher Kurt, a man very familiar with the area, led a group consisting of Subs’a, Rainer, Anton, Rice ‘n Peas and a half a dozen others to a local watering hole to spend another couple of hours until twilight. Seems as if the good Blue Mountain coffee had sobered them up too much. And who wants to get home from a hash too sober…
Run No: 52
Date: Sunday, 14 November 1999
Hares: Sunshine& Lisa
Place: Camelot,
(Near Irish Town)
Not even the threat of the looming HURRICANE LENNY could prevent the spirited army of brave knights (including some horrors) from assembling near Camelot for Run #52. The smiling hares told us to look out for shreddy, flour and ribbons (RIBBONS ?) and that the hash would be approximately 2½ hours. “She really means 2½ kilometres,” mumbled the Flying Scotsman, and aiming to finish in a flash – maybe before Hurricane Lenny struck – immediately charged off at terrific speed followed by the Hash Idiot (Slag Bag), Subs’a and a few other energetic yet seriously misguided miscreants, in the general direction of Newcastle. That, of course, was a false trail and the misguided, after yet another falsie, eventually later caught up at a nice check point near one of the entrances to Strawberry Hill. The Hashers rested briefly, enjoying the lovely smells and views and no doubt expecting to stroll, skip playfully and somehow enjoy the fantastic facilities at Strawberry Hill. WRONG !! We were immediately made to know our place when one of SH’s gate staff spied over at us suspiciously and politely requested that we all be quiet. We then realised that the trail led us away from the grounds of SH, then across a winding path, then down some slippery slopes. For those who took the time to look, there were some breathtaking views of Kingston and the harbour. It was remarkably clear, given the weather that threatened at the start. Anyway, down, down, down. Past a couple of puzzled looking cows and then down some more. “Dat one might buck you” warned young Christopher, the hares’ assistant, as he encouraged the hashers to walk well wide of a particularly mean looking cow (or was it a bull ?). Screams filled the air – no doubt from a couple of the horrors we thought. Wrong again. The screams were from Nuria. Francisco’s soothing tenor provided little comfort as the approach was made through some soft mud just before the check point at the bottom of the valley. Having headed this far down, the general consensus was that we must surely, somehow now start heading up. So not even the Hash Idiot followed the Flying Scotsman as he raced off down, down some more. The rest of us headed across, then up, all the time enjoying the varied vegetation – coffee, pimento, guava, bananas to name a few. The sounds of a river were heard, but this turned out to be much smaller than expected – a mere brook. A few hashers, however, paused to wash off their muddy hands. On On up a long paved stretch. Finally to a lovely courtyard near Camelot. At the end, no Holy Grail, but – sure enough – a Round Table loaded with Red Stripe ! A great run in what turned out to be excellent Hash weather.
Among the Down Downs were awards to The Hares – Sunshine and Lisa; Newcomers – Manuela, Christopher and Frau Bergmeier; Subs’a – for profiling; Francisco – for singing on the Hash; Rice ‘n Peas was made Hash Idiot for running in his new Y2K cap.
Run No: 41
Date: Sunday, 11 July 1999
Hares: Nutcase & Steep ‘n Bushy
Place: Cherry Gardens
I should have known better. A person of my experience. The clues were there, why didn’t I see it coming? Did we not witness the difficulty some had in driving to the start of the run. The faint sound in the air that many mistook for the wind, but I swear was someone singing “The hills are alive, with the sound of NUTCASE YOU BAS*!$*^D” I have long suspected that Nutcases father was a mountain goat. But no. We ignored all the signs & in truth we only have ourselves to blame. So off we set, our hearts anticipating some joyful exercise. The trail led down the hill, round the corner & Oh my gosh, what’s this, we are back at the chariots. I see now that this was a further clue as to how bad the run was going to be. We cannot blame the hares, they gave us every opportunity to abort the run and we ignored them. So off we set, led by children for heavens sake (yet another clue) up the slope, that turned into a steep hill that turned into a mountain. And not just any old mountain, oh no, the north face of the bloody Eiger no less. “Climb every mountain” Bloody Julie Andrews & the Sound of soddin’ Music. We got to what we hoped was the top. At least bits of us got there. I left an awful lot of me half way up. (Sorry to whoever was following me!) I never knew grass was so sharp. “Holt de Czech at de top” yelled Nutcase. In my condition I held on to anyone that was anywhere near upright, I wasn’t about to ask nor care his nationality. We gathered round in a huddle too scared to move in case we fell off the mountain & in desperate need of oxygen. Before we had time to recover, the hares led us off again & immediately we found another check. (Two checks within sight of each other, what is this hash coming to, or was this a further clue) “Der beer czech is up on zat hill” Oh the Scandinavian sense of humour! Nutcase steered us all away from the homeward path & took us down hill. Who needs barbed wire when grass has the same effect. The path at times came closer to the edge than most of us would have liked, but at least at the bottom their were two stout men helping us through the last 1 in 1 slope. To my mind they did seem a lot keener helping the ladies than the lads & an almost carnal grunt of satisfaction whenever a pretty young thing fell into their arms was a bit worrying. If we thought things couldn’t get any worse, we were in for a nasty shock. “Go down zat wey” said Nutcase to the religious adviser. And he did. And he found a circle with an X in it. And he was not a happy man. As we struggled back up the hill, I asked the R.A. why he went down there “Because Nutcase told me to” was the reply. The Lord help us. The R.A. received his punishment in trying to explain to a little ankle biter why he had led her astray along with the rest of us. OK so its not that way. It CANNOT be the way we have just come down, so that only leaves this track to the left, right. Wrong. It’s the first time in living memory that the walkers were the first to find a false trail. The prospect of reclimbing the mountain we had just descended from, only to climb back down the other side was contemplated by all. “What a wag” said one. “Oh they are naughty boys” said another & “Wait till I tell his mother” said a third. So it was on on up, followed by on on down & the best tasting Red stripe I have supped for a long time.
The circle recognised Penny DeLeon, Desiann Chai, Sandra “Sunshine” from Jersey (where they lay their trail using crisp new £50 notes) Nicola Faherty aka Wiff n Poof, Sonia James & Austin (her horror) & Dawn Johnson. All new runners who we hope wil come back, but who must clearly think they joined a mountain climbing organisation by mistake. Steep & Bushy was named & if I had my way would have been hung, drawn & quartered. Our stalwart dray departed & the other announced his 50th birthday. The R.A. punished those who got themselves into the newspaper by name & then realised he was one of them. The hares were eventually called up, awarded the substitute idiot hat, which was suitably blessed before being worn. On a more serious note a gross & flagrant abuse of hash schreddie & the sacred Red Stripe was dealt with in the appropriate manner. As were those two women drivers who falsely accused a Jamaican bus driver of damage to their vehicles. Fidel (just call me Timmy) Castro even made a merciful brief appearance. The children had the last word & summed up the mood of the crowd perfectly when it was revealed what they gave one of the hares for Fathers Day. The whole disgraceful episode is best forgotten & we should pretend that run 41 never happened. Put it behind you & look forward to the next run. Now that will be a run to remember & set by some very nice people I understand.