Run # 487, Harley D & Pedo, Valberg, 8 May 2005

QUALITY HASH, QUALITY HASHERS (?)

It was a lovely sunny spring weekend for Harley D's two-day hash in the Alpine ski resort of Valberg, but unfortunately only eight hashers registered for this very enjoyable outing - hares Harley D, Dingus and Pedo, plus Sadist, Padre, Big End, No Satisfaction and Two Cheeky. This core group was augmented by the presence of Klingon and Jobsworth at the Saturday run, and Virgin Mouth, Farty Bum and Peter Butler on Sunday.

Dingus has been known to comment that it is not the quantity of hashers that counts, but the quality, but we can't actually be certain of the quality of this group, because these eight hashers (who all seemed to agree that the best part of the weekend was the party in Padre and Big End's room on Saturday night) managed to trash the reputation of the hash, and any hashers going to Valberg in future will have to travel incognito, and speak in assumed foreign accents, because hashers (and maybe even all speakers of English) are no longer welcome in the chalets of Valberg.

How did they do this to our reputation? This is the Sunday report, so it is not our mandate to report on Saturday's events.

It was a bright and sunny Sunday morning when Virgin Mouth picked up Farty Bum in Villeneuve Loubet just after 10:15. Once again the trunk of her car was overflowing with a load of out-of-date chips from Geoffrey's of London - Pringles this time. We headed up the route de Digne, eventually branching off to the right along a very scenic mountian road, and got to Valberg in an hour and a half, precisely as indicated in the directions.

Arriving in the parking lot, the first person we spoke to was Padre, who informed us that he was suffering from a hangover. Seeing the load of Pringles in Virgin Mouth's trunk, he announced that salt was just the thing he needed, so some Pringles were torn open and we all ate quite a quantity of chips (or crisps, if you prefer) before the start of the run.

No vehicles were allowed onto the mountain, so the walkers transported a small amount of beer and water in backpacks. Harley D started the run exactly on time, and the seven runners headed off up a hillside to the right, while the four walkers went through the town and then up a gravel road, also to the right.

Harley D, who had gone to bed early, was refreshed and in a chatty mood, and during most of the hike to the beer stop she told Virgin Mouth and Farty Bum about everything they had missed the previous day. One thing she described was the very difficult time the three single female hashers had had in deciding on sleeping arrangements, due to their different biological rhythms. Two Cheeky likes to go to bed very late and get up very late, Harley D likes to go to bed early and get up reasonably early, and No Satisfaction likes to go to bed very late and get up very early. After a great deal of agonizing, and despite the fact that Harley D and Two Cheeky had originally reserved a room together, it was decided that No Satisfaction and Two Cheeky, the party girls, should share, while Harley D, with her heavier sleep requirements, should take the room alone, although whether she actually got much sleep, due to the noise coming from the group across the hall, is hard to say.
Big End also claimed that she had been planning to go to bed early, but on coming back from her shower had found so many hashers sprawled across her bed that she had not been able to get in, so had been forced to join in the festivities. This claim does not really hold water however, as anyone with half a brain can see that if she had really wanted to go to bed, there was nothing to prevent her from crossing the hall and joining Harley D, whose bed was not covered with carousing hashers.

But I digress. This is Sunday's report, and for sure all this partying will be described in the Saturday report.

For the walkers, most of the way to the beer stop was a slightly uphill gravely road, lined with what looked like silver traffic barriers pointing skywards, but which were in fact snow cannons. As already stated, Harley D chatted a lot, but Two Cheeky was more subdued because, besides being at the party the night before, she had had her birthday during the week and had been celebrating continuously since Thursday night (this being a four-day weekend, remember, starting with Ascension Thursday), so she was beginning to feel a little worn out.

The runners' route went in the same general direction as the walkers', with lots of looping and zig-zagging through the trees and along the hillside. Harley D sometimes tried to get the walkers to round corners quickly so that the runners down below would not see us and guess the correct direction to take at their checks. But since we could generally see the runners down below, it is pretty certain that they also kept their eyes on us so that they could keep track of the general direction they needed to go. Harley D told us that Sunday's trail was very gentle compared to the tough one they had taken on Saturday.

Slightly before the beer stop we saw hare Pedo lurking in some trees, looking down at the advancing runners, who caught up to the walkers just as we reached the beer stop, though I believe they skipped a long loop that should have taken them upwards and to the left for awhile (possibly around a mountain peak).

The beer stop was a lovely small wooden chalet with a picnic table inside. We all sat on the wooden step in the sunshine, looking out at the magnificent view across an alpine valley, and feeling at peace with the world. Pedo told us an excellent joke about some snails (perhaps his name should be Snaillewd), and we examined No Satisfaction's arms and hip, which were covered with a rash of painful-looking red blotches that she had picked up in the sea early Saturday morning when, doing the back-stroke, she had swum into a large colony of medusa. She described the sensation as like having knives dragged across her skin.

After the beer stop the walkers turned right and started down a ski slope, while the runners (I believe) went to the left to do the loop they had missed earlier on, since Pedo claimed to have used up 300 grams of flour making it, and it was apparently the best-marked section of his trail. (I hope I have got the details correct here.)

After going down the ski slope a considerable distance (which made uncomfortable walking), the walkers took a loop to the right through a forest-y track, where the crocuses, which had been pale blue on the ski slope, now became a beautiful deep blue colour. Here Virgin Mouth proudly announced to Farty Bum that she had spoken French to her two francophone co-walkers (Harley D and Two Cheeky): "Les fourmis sont grands." There are few people on the hash who speak less French than Virgin Mouth, so this remark will not be translated.

The trail looped back to the ski slope, we crossed over to the other side of it, and then went down a very pretty mountain trail where we were shortly joined by the runners, coming over the crest of the hill rather than by way of a check on the trail behind us. Harley D tried to order them back to the check, but they all claimed to have been following flour all the way, and refused to go back. Very soon we were back at the car park, where Dingus conducted the down-downs.

Hares: Harley D and Pedo
Showing up a day late: Virgin Mouth and Farty Bum
Showing up a day late, plus accepting to be a hare in the near future: Peter Butler
Being useless: Dingus
Birthdays: Virgin Mouth and Two Cheeky
Wearing an orange T-shirt: No Satisfaction
Short-cutting (I think): Big End, No Satisfaction and Peter

Padre and Sadist got one for something, I've forgotten what, but do remember Sadist protesting about it.
This is all I can remember.

For shit-of-the-week, the owner of the hotel was nominated, and Pedo, being the closest thing to a hotel owner, was proposed to take it for him. Then someone suggested Two Cheeky for not bringing her towel to the party on Saturday night, and/or trying to take Padre's towel. When the voting started, there was a loud roar when Two Cheeky's name was called and, amazingly enough, dead silence when Pedo's name was called. So Two Cheeky got it, fair and square, and quickly downed the wine that was administered to her by Peter Butler, although she strongly indicated that she would have preferred a cleaner receptacle.

Four hashers (the hares, plus No Satisfaction) started for home immediately, while the other seven went to a crêperie for a light meal - salad for the four females, and pasta for Padre and Sadist, while Peter took nothing, having had a double breakfast. We were all on the road home before five o'clock, and the return trip went much quicker than the hour and a half we had taken in the morning, since we were now going downhill, and no longer had the weight of Pringles in the back.
The sun was still shining brightly when we arrived back at the coast - a pleasant ending to a pleasant day.