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A Brief (not at all) History of the Indochina Full Moon Hash

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on November 15, 2010

Author:  Bobo, GM, YH3

Some background information on this timeless tradition may be useful (or not as the case may be but you are going to get it anyway). The genesis of this run started way back in the mists of time when dinosaurs still roamed the planet – like Phlegm. Shortly before the dawn of mankind, a group of proto-hominids, known as Hashers, visited Siem Reap for the 7th Mekong Indochina Hash. After completing a run around the temples of Angkor Wat, the Hashers assembled on a dusty plain to observe arcane rituals, which were supervised by their High Priest, Flip Flop (see picture).
Sometime after darkness fell, Flip Flop espied the moon and he determined that his congregation were sufficiently purified that they could go and eat and drink and make merry. So he dismissed them with a cheery injunction to “Get on the damn busses and go home!” The crowd instantly dispersed and got on the damn busses – but then Hash planning made itself felt. The busses were parked on a plain that consisted of something close to quicksand. Any attempt to move the busses after they had sat there for several hours only resulted in them getting further bogged down. The few busses that were free to move were used to try and pull out the ones mired in the bog. Result: you guessed it – more busses bogged down up to the axles in shiggy.

Net result was that many a Hasher had to trek out to the road and flag down a passing tuk tuk/ moto/taxi/bicycle with padded rear luggage rack, etc. Result: lots of happy Khmers making dollars from desperados The beer truck finally left (but not before beers had been safely stowed in backpacks for what looked like being a long walk home!) and during the ensuing mass exodus BoBo ventured to Flip Flop that they should call it the inaugural Mekong Indochina Full Moon Hash and that the event was worthy of a special T-shirt. Flip Flop agreed and a roll-call was taken to record for posterity those who took part. 23 names were recorded and 16 of them were drunk enough to part with cash there and then in return for a promise of an exclusive T-shirt. Flip Flop took the money off the gullible and promised that a special edition T-shirt would be promptly put in the post and would most likely be waiting on the Hashers doorsteps before they even got home.

A month or so later, when BoBo noted that his doorstep remained free of Hasherdabbery, he made a casual enquiry to Flip Flop to find out what progress he had made. “None,” was the answer but it did prompt Flip Flop to come up with a design (which looks strangely similar to the one dished out in Phnom Penh in 2010!). In true Flip Flop Hash fashion he then tried to pass on all responsibility for further enhancements to BoBo, who politely declined.

And there, dear reader, the ball stopped rolling. The 16 Hashers who invested their hard-earned cash in T-shirt futures, got burned and so endeth Run No. ½.

Fast forward the clock from the Cretaceous Period (ca. 2004) to 2009 when the Mekong Indochina Hash visited Yangon and turned back its watch by 30 years. BoBo was still waiting for his T-shirt from Flip Flop but had come to realise that if he wanted a Mekong Indochina Full Moon Hash T-shirt he would have to make one himself. This he decided to do and so he announced Run 1½ and persuaded 80-odd souls to take a run around the Shwedagon, through monasteries and ancient bamboo groves in the middle of downtown Yangon and to get bombarded with missiles hurled by the irate abbot of a religious establishment who took umbrage at Hashers disturbing the peace and tranquility of his little empire. Apart from some slight injuries to the leg of Yogi Bra, the Hash otherwise went off without incident and it was adjudged by all and sundry as being a bloody good run and perhaps better than the regular weekend runs. All who took part were presented with a lovely bespoke T-shirt – and it looked nothing like the design that Flip Flop had sent to BoBo five years earlier!

Fast forward another year and BoBo found out that Flip Flop was again in residence in Phnom Penh after a long sojourn to Australia, Africa and elsewhere. “Where’s my T-shirt?” enquired BoBo. Flip Flop’s replies were akin to those that would have been sent by a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights – if only rabbits could write (and it’s arguable whether Flip Flop can write – well write anything other than technogeek). BoBo suggested that things could be remedied if another Full moon Run was organised. Easy!

To cut a very long story short, Flip Flop agreed to produce a T-shirt if BoBo would help to Hare a run and produce a design. Done deal said BoBo. He instantly mailed back the (unproduced) design for the Siem Reap Run. However, since he didn’t know diddly squat about Phnom Penh, he asked for some help on the run-setting front and so Flip Flop volunteered the services of STD. That’s delegation for you. He must be an excellent manager in the real world. So, after running around the countryside of Phnom Penh for two days, BoBo found himself having breakfast with STD and Flip Flop on Monday morning and was gratified to hear that all was under control – well all except the fact that the T-shirts had not yet been printed, that the route of the Hash had not been decided upon and the method of marking the trail had not even been thought about. Thus Run No. 2 ½ started in the manner in which it meant to continue!

However, planning of a sort had in fact started a couple of days previously. BoBo remarked to Flip Flop that it might help if an announcement was made at the Circle at the end of the Saturday Hash to let people know that there would be a “Special Run” on Monday. This seemed to resonate with Flip Flop but unfortunately the hurried cold and wet Circle on the boat wasn’t an ideal venue to make such an announcement and so BoBo put Plan B into action. Enlist the services of a good-looking Harriette!

Yogi Bra’s fervent attempt to collect money for this thing on Saturday evening, when all were well and drunk, resulted in a huge influx of cash and a huge lack of comprehension over what exactly one would get for one’s $5 contribution. In truth, the lack of comprehension extended to the Hares, who, at their Monday morning pre-trail-laying breakfast meeting, wondered how many slabs of beer they needed to steal in order to satisfy the thirsts of everyone that threatened to show up.

Will anyone figure out what the hell is going on?  Stay tuned for the actual run report…

On On!


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P2H3 Run #892 – Leaking Duck Christmas Run

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on December 30, 2008

snow-trail on-the-trail1

Date:  28/12/2008

Hare:  Leaking Duck (run), ??? (walk)

Run Report:  Yogi Bra

The holidays upon us, hashers are distracted by the abundance of festivities around town.  Between the steamy weather, a few children and mannequins sporting Santa hats, and the rest of the population only vaguely aware of this Western phenomenon, it’s hard to think of anything else.

What happens when you set a trail a week in advance?  Keep reading.  The trail started and ended at the Leaking Duck mansion in a loop that would keep us on our toes, if not our knees, desperately seeking signs of white spray paint.  We were off to a good start but got lost in the paddies, spreading out in all directions.  Finally we made it onto the roads only to fall into the same predicament.  Fortunately the walkers had no trouble since all they had to do was follow the scent of food, as their hare slurped bowls of chicken stew the whole way.

At one point when we turned our heads and saw the walkers ambling towards a familiar truck, most of us abandoned the hunt and headed to the treasure chest of beer and water.  Once there, a heated debate ensued between the hare and the hounds.  In the case of FRBs vs. Leaking Duck, arguments ran along the lines of:

“Where were the marks?”

“On the trail.”

“Well, we didn’t see them.”

“Of course not, you weren’t on the trail.” and so on.  The hare shamed us into back-tracking and the cowed pack obeyed, diligently running back from whence we came to complete the intended first half.  The second half went more smoothly, the FRBs only lead us astray once, nearly into the Bassac.

In a heart-warming holiday tale of overcoming obstacles, the hash proved to be made of strong stuff.   Blah Blah-hobbling back to the front, despite his injuries.  Pipe Organ-upright and running well despite getting hitched the night before.  The Norwegian Mafia-alive and well, despite their ice cream and Lutefisk indulgences.  Yap Yap and Yogi Bra-leading the female delegation, though slowed by their sinful indiscretions involving cookies and that traditional Japanese drink, eggnog.  Two young hashers, who appeared to be 10 or 12 year old girls (unless they were very small marathon runners in disguise) were some of the best runners of the day, shaming us all.

Back at the Palace, GM Blah Blah corralled the hashers from the picnic spots they had set up all over Leaking Duck’s lawn.  The hares were summoned, but few complaints were filed, possibly because hashers’ mouths were full of the mangoes and snacks graciously provided by the hare. Mr. Tinkle as stand-in Choir Master muddled along best he could.

As Stand-in RA, Leaking Duck used his pulpit to further browbeat the FRBs as the worst bunch of hounds he had ever seen.  Mr. Tinkle, Herring Choker, Runs Well, Wanna Cracker, and Poor Wine were all found guilty, while Leckety Slit committed the grave sin of eating during sermon.  Technology Abuse for two camera-wielding virgins, one of whom used an enormous telephoto lens to capture, what?  The individual beads of sweat on our faces?  Check some of the dodgier sites on the internet to see exactly how much of us he exposed.

Beaver Shot, who enjoys dual status as returnee / foreign spy depending on what angle you take, was joined by a number of foreign spies this week.  A high number of virgins from Oregon were present, visiting Matt, and escaping the cold, rainy winter. Many anniversaroids, ranging from Miho-san’s 10 runs to Number One’s 8,000.  Pipe Organ’s marriage was honored, and all repaired to the Golden Cabbage for turkey and more eggnog.

On Donner! On Blitzen!

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P2H3 Run #888 Mekong River Boat Run

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on December 5, 2008


giant-squid1 the-hares3 pre-run the-trail hash-feeding dirty-phlegm the-hares2 escort-services the-aubergine2

Date:  30/11/2008

Hares: Ikea & Herring Choker, Lois & Thida (walking)

Run Report:  Yogi Bra

The Hash takes to the high seas… You boys and your aubergines… Phlegm is a dirty, dirty man

Blimey that’s a lot of people.  Where did they all come from?  Everyone in town got in on the action, requiring us to commandeer a third boat. 888 turned out to signify not only the number of runs, but also the number of people who turned up.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  In his swan song to the hash, eternal hasher and eminent FRB Ikea enlisted his friend and fellow FRB Herring Choker to hare the auspicious 888th Run.  The hash takes numerology almost as seriously as beer, so this was bound to be a momentous event.  Wishing not to disappoint, they went for the glory that is a boat run.  Everyone loves a boat run:  the wind whipping through your hair, the sea breeze in your face.  That glory does not come without headache was a lesson they learned.  First – too many people.  As Leaking Duck pointed out, with the promise of an afternoon on the river, BBQ, and T-shirts, it was to be expected.  On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t have sprung for that billboard over Monivong, or the skywriting plane the day before.  This was not a problem per se, but food and clothing supplies were strained, or severely lacking.  Second – boat runs take forever.  Many hashers swanned in way after the cutoff, an endless stream filing slowly up the gangplank for what felt like hours.

Finally asea, the hares scanned the horizon, wondering aloud if the 3 cans of Pringles they bought would sustain everyone and trying to remember where on earth they set the damn run, when they spotted the pagoda.  Good landmark, only 50,000 or so in the country.  With Herring Choker’s cry of, “go to the cow!” to the captain, another brilliant landmark choice, we anchored and were off.

The run:

Between Herring Choker, who has twice hared in almost 50 runs, and Ikea who has lost car keys, 7 cell phones, 5 wallets, all his razors and a lot of face, they had a tall task ahead of them.  In the ever-competitive spirit of the hash, hares have not been content to merely divine a trail that’s a perfect length, well-marked, appropriate number of checkpoints and holds, and not too far out of town.  They also try to find the most picturesque spot possible, so as to hear oohing and aahing from the crowd as we catch our breath at stops.  In this Ikea and Herring Choker did not fail.  We set out along a scenic village road and were soon running astride the Mekong, under trees and through fields.

Runs Well, Wannacracker and brothers Two Hands and Port Wine, Thong Cheese Flasher, Simon, Andre were up at the front and stayed there.  Mr. Tinkle has been making a decent showing these days and Milky Discharge is coming back to life.  Herring Choker was up there too, despite being the hare.  Lovely scenery, no water, not too many cows, we only killed a few young crops.  Very shady.

In other news: Yogi Bra got tied up in wire along some crops, and was jostled and shoved by all the FRBs as she bent over to free herself (thanks guys!) before Love Bite helped her out of her snare.  In the back lanes of a village, Mr. Tinkle ditched trail, yelling that he spied some appealing vegetables.  He reappeared a short time later brandishing a sizeable aubergine which he claimed was to be used in the circle in lieu of the usual device.  After taking a wrong turn on a shortcut, Phlegm ended up face down in the mud.  He looked like the Bogman, arms and legs literally dripping with mud.  Even his sunglasses were covered.  Revenge is sweet and dirty.

The Circle:

A Football injury claimed GM Blah Blah’s right leg; unfortunately the mouth works fine.  When asked how his walk went, the usual jolly GM lashed out in a paracetemol-induced rage and let out a string of curses that would make any pirate blush.  Finally he called the circle and everyone gathered, sausages in hand, under the darkening skies.

Ikea, Herring Choker, Lois, and Thida were called in to account for the beautiful day and a beautiful run, that Ikea declared came in at 8.88 kilometers.  Hashers were straining to find something to complain about, a feat with this crowd.  A few returnees were dragged in and serenaded by returning Hash Choirmaster STD.  Due to the late hour and massive number of virgins we sang their song, but didn’t make them stand for inspection.

Of course the sinners can’t be ignored.  Acting RA Milky Discharge presided over the whipping of: Ikea for being a loser, Jeremie for over-dedication to the hash for designing the awesome t-shirts (more on that later), some poor kid for running at least 10ks on the upper deck of the boat on the ride over (don’t worry, we didn’t fill his potty with beer – everyone knows kids love vodka), Runs Well for wearing some bizarre slipper / sneaker combo, like some soccer mom from Duluth, and Phlegm for his dirty, dirty ways.  Good lord, I just realized we didn’t call in Sarsy.  Will rectify next time, for sure.

It’s all in the name. Due to his utter lack of direction, American hasher and occasional stand-in RA Greg was dubbed Khmer Compass.  And Lois, dedicated walker and hasher, immensely patient wife of Ikea, will now be known as Escort Services, since her number must be in many Cambodian men’s phones as she attempts to pick up after Ikea.

Slow boat to China. The ride home took forever and a day.  The two boats that were tied together were attacked by Somali pirates and held hostage, but when the pirates realized no one would pay ransom, and people gleefully asked if they could witness any torture of the hashers, they let us go.  Things got a bit blurry at Velkommen at the on on on, the Thida sisters seeming to multiply every time you turned around.  Once the seafarers were fed and drunk, we all stumbled out into the night for the long journey home.

On On!

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More Announcements…

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on November 18, 2008

1. Hare needed this weekend

Hare-raiser Mr Tinkle says we need someone to co-hare this week with Dusty. If willing, email Mr Tinkle:

ajaveling AT yahoo.co.uk

2. Hash Ball tickets 

Time is running out to buy tickets for the Hash Ball.  We need numbers.  For tickets email or call Yogi Bra

kate AT kateliana.com

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment »


Posted by p2h3hashtrash on October 30, 2008

Housewarming Update:

Runs Well housewarming party: Saturday, November 1st, from 5pm.  “Every hasher is invited,” he says.  Ask him Sunday if he’s regretting those words.

Street 29, house no. 30Z

Ball Update:

The Hash Ball will be held Saturday, November 22nd, at The Living Room, Street 306 (off Norodom), garden drinks starting 6:30pm.  Formal attire (of any nation).  Tickets are $35, $10 for Khmers who have been on more than 15 runs.

Hellhound Update:

The Hellhounds return to Velkommen Inn this Friday, October 31st.  Come for your weekly dose of rock and lutefisk. “Slightly different line up and sound, should be good,” says Check Around.

Medical Update:

Flaccido Domingo:  getting better.  Canadian guy:  upright, breathing.  Thanks to hash management who ordered him whisked away to safety.  Perhaps we can trade in 2nd truck for medevac helicopter.

Thai / Burma Border Update:

Interhash on weekend following the Hash Ball in Mae Hong Son, on the Thai / Burma border. Contact Blah Blah or Leaking Duck for further details (or if anyone has details / website please post in comments).

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P2H3 Run #881 – Land of Confusion

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on October 21, 2008

Date:  19/10/2008

Hare:  Simon (running), Marilu (walking)

Run Report:  Yogi Bra

The Gambler.  Simon bets it all on red, comes up shy an ace.

Sigh.  It’s not easy being hare.  Stumbling around in dead heat on a Saturday, contending with rivers, rice paddies, cows, highways, and other burdens nature throws in the path of a perfect trail.  Add to that the economic crisis, the rising price of spray paint, the whole Russia / Georgia thing, the Mexican Drug wars, Preah Vihear, today’s hare has a lot weighing on his mind.  Against this backdrop, who has time to get all hot and bothered about the particulars of a trail.  The Phnom Penh hash, that’s who.

A lot of whingers, this hash.  Starting on the truck:  too long, too bumpy, tree branches in face, etc. After a grumpy, shaken pack disembarked from the trucks we stood around while Simon told the virgins the low down.  Then we stood around some more.  Milky Discharge proved a stellar stand-in, but Blah Blah-less hashes can be a bit rough around the edges.  Finally we started running … straight into mud, water and mayhem.  Nothing new, however things would take a turn for the worse.  Many times it seemed every trail was false.  One started to wonder if the large amount of cow droppings on the trail were more commentary than random acts of nature.

At one junction, the pack went left after some confusion.  Runs Well, foreign spy VC, Andres, Karl, and Yogi Bra headed the opposite way on the right trail, but couldn’t fathom why the pack was still running the other way.  VC, Karl and Yogi Bra gave up and followed the pack, but Runs Well and Andres actually ran the entire, correct trail (don’t worry, they were punished for it).

No sooner had we all been reunited did we see the truck looming in the near distance for the half-way, a mere 3 kms or so after the start.  All the decorum and restraint the pack had mustered quickly vanished as they turned on the hare.  The usually gentle and mild-mannered Herring Choker went all Viking on Simon’s ass, demanding to know why he hadn’t recalled the pack when they went astray.  Note:  Do not make this man mad, ever.  While Simon attempted to simultaneously apologize and blame Blah Blah and some local children, the pack got right nasty and would have buried him up to his neck in Royal D had there been any.  Note:  Do not make these people mad, ever.

The second half was quite nice, many hashers being wooed into a reluctant contentment by the fading, golden light and the lotus blossom fields.  And there were some nice, long, unambiguous stretches in the cool, afternoon shade.   But, novice hare and brave volunteer Simon deserves our appreciation and respect for a solid effort.  The runners and walkers came to the half-way and finish almost at the same time – in fact, we kept bumping into them and many times the runners were even behind them.  And keeping the pack together is technically a goal for the hare.

With our fearless leader mired in sand and gin & tonics in Sihanoukville, Assistant GM Milky Discharge bravely convened the circle.  Simon was toast, but not ice, and Milky reminded the pack of the grueling chore of haring, in an effort to make amends and not scare away future hares.  In contrast, the walkers seemed quite pleased with their afternoon and hare.  Go figure.  The few virgins had numerous abuses among them, like technology and new shoes, but the pack took pity.  Celebrating anniversaries:  Phlegm, Herring Choker, Hit On Me, Spillage, Matt L., and possibly a few others.  And this week saw the return of Sarsy, always cause for celebration and unease.

RA Flaccido Domingo was in fine, bellowing form, cowing the hash sinners.  The guilty:

VC from Phuket – strong aversion to clothing; Phlegm – rampant shortcutting; Runs Well, Andres – rampant trail-following; Check Around – loss of soul (though he carried it in his hand).  The hare got called in thrice for various crimes, but his nether regions remained too warm and dry for some hashers.   Note:  In process of collecting extra large block of ice, roomy enough for two bottoms, so beware next week Blah Blah and Simon.

The Pursat River Run was announced for Sunday, October 26th, (see announcement below on blog), in addition to a special outstation hash in Pursat on Saturday, October 25th (see details on main website).  The Hash Ball was also announced for Saturday, November 22nd, details to follow.

The on on on was at hash favorite Golden Cabbage, where, had Simon and Marilu showed up, all woes would have been soothed by a giant rocket of Anchor beer.

On on!

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Pursat River Run

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on October 15, 2008

Pencil in Sunday October 26 for the Pursat River Run.

The run starts at 5.45 am.  Dear God, that is early.

The idea is to arrive in Pursat on the Saturday afternoon for registration. Get an early bed (concentrate on GIA: Goal-setting, Imaging, Arousal) and try to subliminate the lingering hangover from Mr and Mrs Tinkle’s party on the Friday night.

At 5.45 am the next morning you will haul your disoriented body around town for 5 or 10 ks, kids passing you the whole way, then later wobble back to the Railway Station in time for the Hash.

You should do it.  Proceeds are for a good cause and Pursat is not far away.  Organiser Steve asks you to pre-register your intention to take part.


Maybe someone can organise lifts, share taxis etc.

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