Under supreme duress I have finally got to the keyboard to tell the tale of the trail from hell….Bookmaker Hell….I tried to forget it….I tried not to write it….but something kept bringing it back to me , something somehow would not let me put this ordeal behind me…….the bloody Bookmaker has whinged for 10 whole weeks….or 70 whole days….and nights and don’t get me started on the hours, minutes and seconds of his constant reminders, and nudges and goading….on and on and bloody on again…..which reminds me of a little trail we survived together around the hills and valleys behind Vivari on Saturday the 29th of September 2007


The temperatures had taken a turn for the worse and were hitting the mid 30’s when it was decided that 12 noon was an ideal time to set out on the trail of immense proportions and no short cuts. Bookmaker had outdone himself in choosing a terrain so devoid of relief in terms of shade or available water and yet so unshortcuttable that once you started….as good old Magnus Magnusson famously said, you had to finish….or in this case die in the attempt.


We gathered at the water’s edge and contemplated a quick dip to cool off….but as any experienced hot country hasher will tell you running and sweating on a trail while covered in salt is a bit off the scale in terms of masochism….mind you we had all agreed to participate in this Splash Hash Lunacy so why not?


If you want to know who really made it round check the photos….I often spotted folk in the distance trying to figure out one of Bookmaker’s back checks or try to shortcut from yet another F. Unfortunately I had the dubious benefit of knowing basically where we were going…..so I had the mental agony to deal with while the other oblivious hashers just dragged and sweated their way from one check to the next or one F to the next, or the one after or the one after that.


I front ran the whole diabolical episode from hill crest to hill crest in deserted valleys until eventually the sea came into view and I knew we only had an easy ON IN of about 4kms…… some fit bastards overtook me on the downhill as they had been saving their energies allowing me to take all the head winds….the biggest bastard of all being the hare himself who tried to make out he was running ahead to warn the traffic to give us a wide berth……


At last the bay of Vivari appeared round the final bend and triumphantly we jogged past the agog taverna customers as we tried to hold the sunstroke at bay long enough to hit the beer.


The circle was luckily very short, various splashing activities followed thankfully including me immersing myself in a bowl full of cold beers…..not a bad way to go……ON ON to the next incontinent Splash Hash probably Easter or maybe Xmas….or the 1st Blue Moon for sure.