P2H3 Hash Trash Blog

The Muscle Wine Drinking Club With a Slimy Dyke Problem

Mekong Indochina Full Moon Hash #2.5 – Phnom Penh, 2010

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on November 15, 2010

Mekong Indochina Hash – Full Moon or Any Moon Run No. 2½

Hares: Flip Flop, BoBo, STD

Date: 1st November 2010

Many things wrong here: firstly there was no full moon. It was ¾ moon to be exact, but who’s counting? Maybe the same person who determined that Sunday’s run was the P2H3’s 1,000th when it wasn’t. Secondly, the organisers of this little event had decided that, in order to not to confuse Hashers with unnecessary details, information about the event was to be given out on a need-to-know basis. However, since they forgot to tell anybody that it was on, not many people were making enquiries!

Those who managed to remember what, when, where, and why dutifully turned up at Velkommen Inn on Monday evening where the confusion continued. Hordes of Hashers emerged out of the woodwork; many more than expected. We even had a virgin turn up –  impressive for a run that was only advertised two days prior and then only to Hashers at the run site. STD made frantic phone calls to the boat driver and the On On On proprietor to make sure they could handle the crush. They couldn’t. Amid the confusion, a nest of maggots that had found cozy refuge in Rocks Off’s shoes decided to hatch, sending a flurry of tiny insects scattering across the floor of the soon-to-be-condemned restaurant. Sorry about that Herring Choker! The rest of the Hash watched in amusement as the staff tried to stamp out the little critters, whilst quietly cancelling their food orders.

Then the rain clouds came. Our boat trip was looking less and less delightful, but in the absence of other choices the order was given by disorganizers Flip Flop, BoBo, and STD to hit the high seas, so off the Hashers went. The Gods were clearly smiling upon us, as the boat trip and scramble up the opposite river bank to Snow’s bar were mercifully uneventful. Upon hitting the eclectic, welcoming bar and in the presence of so much beer, there was excited chatter about skipping the run altogether. But cooler, more sober heads (BoBo’s) prevailed, and we bid tearful adieu to Snow in order to run around dangerous streets and filthy alleys in the pitch dark. Who came up with this idea in the first place? Also, since only three of the 50 or so Hashers remembered to bring a torch, there was little chance to avoid disaster.

The age-old question of spray paint vs. flour was put to the test. Unfortunately no one remembers the answer. STD stuck with old, white, toxic faithful, while BoBo, in the absence of his preferred shreddie, opted for the environmentally friendly white stuff. Considering how lost the pack was, it’s safe to say neither worked like a charm. Cooler weather made for a fast-moving pack, which proved a bitch when the Runners were off trail and had to trek back long distances to where the Hares were patiently waiting, wondering when they would notice that the Hares hadn’t actually moved from the Check. First casualty was Herring Choker, who abandoned trail 500 meters along to rejoin Snow at the bar. Smart man!

The rest galloped along, panting and frothing at the mouth. After several false turns and long digressions, they finally veered off the road and into interior Chroy Changva, and the ancestral homeland of venerable Hasher Check Around. A quick jaunt through his property, including a scramble over a low wall was quite shitty, literally. Overheard:

Virgin “this place smells like shit.”

Leaking Duck “there’s a good reason for that.”

After leaving the heart of darkness (the aforementioned shit-smelling abode-to-be of Check Around) the Runners continued eastward and reached the glare of a well-lit road – whereupon one bearded Runner (name unknown) stumbled over a pebble and tumbled head first into the tarmac. Go figure! He was to repeat this exercise at least once more so one assumes that he had spent a little too long hydrating in the bar prior to the run. And so the Runners muddled along. The lack of visibility of the marks ensured that at least one loop was missed by the pack but there didn’t seem to have been any complaints on that score! A visit to a brand new 20 story high-rise apartment block was not high on their priority list although both STD and Flip Flop had insisted that a thorough recce of this building was required when setting the run. Luckily the Hashers missed the trail leading up the 20 flights of stairs to the rooftop viewpoint!

Local Hasher, Blah Blah, was caught out at the second to last Check when he went straight ahead rather than turning left to go down to Snow’s. One would have thought that he would have known better but he was saved from a fate worse than death, or at least a very long run Home, by one of BoBo’s clear False Trail mark laid in flour.

The On Home was just a straight run for about 1.3 km along a mixture of paved and dirt roads. BoBo was glad to see that his final Check, laid just metres away from Snow’s bar caught out at least three of the FRBs, including his fellow Yangon Hasher, Gigolo Joe. They turned right and followed his trail of flour until they realised that they were off flour – the only part of the trail where a False Trail mark had not been laid.

Somehow all ended up back at Snow’s.


Full Moon Trail (scale 1:20,000 or 4 cm = 1 km)

[Trail in yellow was the trail taken on the night. The one in red is the trail taken by the Hares while laying the run and False Trails earlier in the day]

After the Hash cooled down from the run with too many beers and too few waters, blocks of ice were brought forth and BoBo kicked off the circle in grand fashion, with Joint Venture as his enticing beer bitch.


The Hares were iced and toasted. Herring Choker gave a glowing run report, but that may have been the aquavit talking.

First time Full Mooners fought over seats on the ice.

BoBo announced that the non beer drinkers had the opportunity to do their Down Downs with some hideous local hooch that was given the name Mr Muscles due to the picture of a ripped body-builder on the front of the bottle. Perfect for those of a gay bent!

Danes had to drink. Yanks had to drink. Aussies had to drink. The 2 virgins were sullied, one on STDs lap. One must take a moment of pity for the ice, which saw more ass than a toilet seat. Plug Her was elected ‘ball tester’ to gage whose was biggest, a role she seemed born to play. Even Yap Yap was drunk, an occurrence probably not seen since her wedding night.

Those geographically challenged at the last Check were given a beer to ease their pain.

The man who succeeded in tripping over his own feet was similarly anaesthetized.

Those who took part in the previous Full Moon Hash in Yangon drank – if they could remember that far back!

After gawking in horror at the ritual taking place in his bar, Snow eventually got into the action, and was iced as well.

Charges from the Circle were requested and received in droves. The Circle dissolved into utter carnage, there was ice, beer and Mr. Muscles all over the floor and not a few Hashers ready to pass out.

Finally we all piled on the boat which ferried us safe and sound to Velkommen Inn to continue our quest to make sure the beer population of Cambodia doesn’t get out of hand. T-shirts were doled out to those who earned them by signing up early.

Note: BoBo finally got his T-shirt!


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