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The Islander Newspaper Ascension Island
  Issue No. 2209 Online Edition Thursday 24 April 2014 
Home | Categories | Sport Please tell us what you think of this article. Tell a friend Print Friendly

Ascension : Hash Trash: Hash No 1492
Submitted by The Islander (Islander Editors) 12.12.2013 (Article Archived on 09.01.2014)

In the time before yesterday, but after three days before that, a motley band of merry hikers met in a little hut, far off the beaten track.

Hash Trash: no 1492

Hares: tLTHoD, Flash Cake and Soggy Boozer
Hounds: Idle Trekkie, Glitoris, Flaming Crabs, Hairy Leftovers, Herr-lein Disasterchef, Boozy Head, Dead Gross, Bus Driver and Hairy Hal

In the time before yesterday, but after three days before that, a motley band of merry hikers met in a little hut, far off the beaten track. Some were seasoned hashers, who had seen more walks than a public footpath. Others were little walkers, still in their teenage years, who sat in a group and stroked an excitable dog. Some were old faces that had come and went in years gone by.
All had come to depart on an epic journey, one so awesome that it would be recorded in scripture til the end of time. The two that had laid it, a surly old giant of a man with his glamorous accomplice, announced the full extent of the voyage:
“Follow the seven circled trail,
Marked with piles of bluish pale,
Mind the down and mind the up,
And mind this walk, it flaked our pup.”

With that, the group began their trek, up a mountain that curved up to meet the sky. Here, at the pinnacle, they discovered the first of the rings. Many stopped with awe at the sight, but the bolder ones soldiered on, through bush and spiked rock. In but a few minutes, they chanced upon another shack, much like the one they had congregated in. here lay shrouded caves that drove deep into the ground, filled with dust and man-eating spiders.

Once many a breath was caught, the band of hashers marched on. One of them sighted a great cylinder of silver that had breached the Earth, which turned out to be an old flare. But stranger still was the trail that the party clung to, which had turned from bright white to an ominous blue.

Along they went, past more rings, until they had seen five in total. However, their way was marred by a towering cliff, that fell away into oblivion. Seeing hope in that blue beacon that guided them, the hashers stumbled down the rock until they could stumble no more. They had found the seventh circle.

Suddenly, the glamorous aide of the giant’s features contorted into and evil smile. The group had been tricked. Even with the seven they had uncovered, they would need an eighth ring to slay the hash. Fleeing madly across the rocks in despair, they finally came upon the final ring, signalling the end of the hash, and their imprisonment on it.

As they returned to their starting point in triumph, a great banquet materialized before the group, only to be seized by a relentless gang of thieving elves, who left mere scraps for the brave warriors. The accomplice cursed, and swore a toe-curling oath of revenge. Still, a fire was lit which the party relaxed by, satisfied in the accomplishment of their quest.

Place: Bullocks Pond Cairn, NASA Road
Time: 4.30pm
Hare: tLTHoD

Bring a plate of eats.
“The most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what's in between, and they took great pleasure in doing just that.”
Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth

 

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