Bali Hash House Harriers 2

“Cow Poop, Singlets and Scotch”

Last week’s run on Bali HHH2 (TWO!) was a dramatic departure from just about everything we’re used to in this venerable old club (association? loose gathering? travelling loony show?). It started an hour later than usual (eek!), there wasn’t a palm tree or rice paddy in sight, and unless the geckos at this site were twelve feet long, there was more cow shit than we’d see in a year of normal hashing. It was of course the Sunset Run on Serangan Island, as scrubby, dusty and cow - intensive a location as you’ll find anywhere outside of Lubbock, Texas or possibly somewhere in central Queensland having a name along the lines of “Nah Nah Goon” or something.

The late start turned out to be an inspired idea on hare Gizzard’s part. Any earlier and ambulances would have been involved. It had been an unbearably hot day in a Hades-like week in a blast furnace of an El Nino “rainy” season. Hashers would have been dropping like flies on the pyroclastic beach sand or passing out comprehensively on the limestone and dirt tracks of the shadeless inland. We were lathering up quiet enough as it was, as it were. But wait! It’s now official; R.A. Dancing Queen demonstrably and definitely has some kind of Thor -like control over the weather, I’m convinced. Once again, by the time we were on the sweltering trail he had somehow managed to invoke cloudy and slightly overcast conditions. When we had reached Gizzard’s tee shirt and singlet (a thoughtful touch, having both) give – out truck, things had cooled down noticeably.

Also, I’m pretty certain I spotted R.A.D.Q. himself in a thicket of thirsty trees and shrubs behind the “Putri Café”, (a fine looking establishment consisting of several cement block rooms, deafening galloping techno loop music and a string of winking fairy lights), brandishing a large Norse / Viking - type Hammer at the sky and muttering incantations in some ancient tongue. Perhaps this helped, if not the café and its enormous lolling Ibu at front and center would have been enough to cool the hobs of hell, They sure left me cold.

There were a few lake – like inlets along the way that were restful enough on the eye and some stands of surprisingly tall trees as well, but Serangan is a difficult place to do anything with. As one Hasher put it, perhaps a Salty Dog: “There are some places on land that I’d just as soon swap for as many acres of ocean”. Fair enough, but Gizzard gave us a pretty good workout, some decent ocean views and a damn novel place from which to conduct a circle with all manner of colorful small boats bobbing nearby. The Sunset Run, as the name promised, also gave us a swirling yellow, orange and turquoise vista to be admired, beer in hand with and golden sand beneath the feet. What else that didn’t involve naked super models and a Jacuzzi would you rather be doing on Saturday evening?

The circle was also one that hit unexpected levels of high hilarity and kept hitting higher. All manner of clownish behavior and silliness prevailed. I’m moved to say here “as usual” but this was noticeably wackier and more unfettered. It may well have had something to do with The Penguin and Hardcase’s (two canny laddies if ever there were two) producing a bottle of Scotch and plastic glasses out of thin air and passing it “aroond the crood”. This was mooted to have something to do with atonement for not actively doing anything about St. Andrew’s Day, but I rather think they just wanted to see us all do stupider things than we normally do whilst pissing themselves laughing at us. If so, it was a raging success; we did, and they did.

All the while that Dancing Queen was center circle lightening flashed and thunder crashed off shore, coming ever closer toward Serangan and the beach. It was a tense fifteen minutes, would it piss down and reveal him as the charlatan he is, or would he wave his magic “crook” and get away with it yet again? If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. The downpour was limited to a few drops, but D.Q. did slip away conspicuously unnoticed. Perhaps he was a little rusty with his “hammer”, who knows?

Jangle Balls conducted an interview with Bill and Hilary: H: “I think it’s high time we had a woman in the White House”. B: “Been there, done that”. Kerry Mall was visited in song as was Mobile. And the Scotch made its way around again. Whoops and gales of laughter could still be heard as we made our way off merry Serangan and social drinking continued until no doubt the last drop was drunk, or the last drunk dropped. Was that the way it went or was I the last drunk that dropped after drinking the last drop? Mercifully, I can’t remember. Or I imagined it all.

So thanks to Gizzard for a good time all round Cow Poo Cay, and we’ll see you at a location TBA this Sat.

On on,
J.B.