A Rose by Any Other Name...
So, after the break up of my last long-term relationship, I decided to do something really different to celebrate my new found freedom. What could be more unusual for someone who does NO exercise than to join a mountain biking hash group (an offshoot of the infamous Hash House Harriet runners)?
Unwilling to suffer alone, I dragged my dad along with me. One Sunday morning after a grueling two-hour 'trial' ride through some dense offroad tracks in extreme humidity and heat, we unwittingly (the sun must have fried our brain cells) signed on the dotted line and foolishly became members of the Bike Hash. In my defence, I was not myself that day. The night before, I had partied hard and was both hungover and had only two hours sleep. Plus I was about as unfit as a well, a very unfit fiddle.
The concept of the bike hash is simple. About once a month, a motley crew of crazy expats and even crazier locals meet at various locations to mountain bike through different areas of the island. 'Hares', those hardworking souls who lay the trail with either flour, chalk or toilet paper (only 100% biodegradable materials), map out a ride for the rest of us. There are false offshoots to ensure that the slower riders can catch up with the faster ones. The goal is to cover 20km in 2 hours, with the entire pack getting back to the starting point within 20 minutes of each other. Afterwards, what happens on the ride is dissected in the 'circle', where we welcome the virgins (first time riders). In addition, the person who comes up with the most stupid "quote of the day" and other individuals who commit any other transgressions have to participate in a "Down Down" ie basically a public humiliation.
Some of the members have hash names, which go along the lines of Oral Fix, Fat Stuck B*stard, G-String, No Good and so on. As you can imagine, these names usually stem from some unfortunate act or comment which the individual did or said. For almost six months, I was lucky enough not to have my more foolish moments witnessed by any of the other members. This was because I was always the slowest rider at the back of the pack. However, my luck ran out this past Sunday, when I was called into the circle for a personal best record of THREE times.
Transgression No 1:
During the first 10 minutes of the ride, my nose started to run. Not wanting to wipe snot on my sleeves, I politely asked the Grand Master who happened to be cycling by at the time, "Barbarian, may I take some of the toilet paper (that was used to lay the trail) to blow my nose?". Yes, in hindsight, I should have just quietly picked it off the bush and not brought attention to myself. However, I was smack bang in the middle of the pack and doing so would probably have incurred a worse punishment. I naively thought that Barbarian would not bring it up in the circle, but well, he did. And the result? I now have a hash name. Could it be something hot, perhaps sexy, maybe cool? No, it is....Nose Wipe. When I complained bitterly that I didn't like it, my so-called "friend", Oral Fix, shouted out, "Hey, at least be glad they didn't call you A** Wipe!". Okay, point taken.
Transgression No 2:
James* called me into the circle and told the following story about me, "Now before the ride this morning, I saw Nose Wipe cycling up and down the road. She seemed to be having some problems with her bike so I asked her what was wrong. She said that she was having difficulty changing the gears. So I thought perhaps it was some issue with the wiring, maybe the lever was stuck, whatever. But no, when I asked why she had couldn't change the gears properly, she told me, 'My nails are too long!'."
Transgression No 3:
No reason apart from the fact that they needed a local in the circle to do a "Down Down" with G-String and since I was already down (no pun intended)......
All in all, it was a hilarious day, though I have to admit the joke was on me. But if you can't laugh at yourself (or let 50 other people laugh at you), then what's the point? I love being a part of the SBH because I have seen some areas of the island that I otherwise wouldn't have, and I have also made some great friends.
Another highlight of the ride was that one of the 'Hares' was also named. Having recced the area several times while plotting out the trail in the preceeding weeks, he was stung by a hornet during the line of duty. His new hash name? Wh*renet. You gotta love it!
On On!
*Names have been changed not to protect the innocent, but to prevent them from kicking my b*tt
Unwilling to suffer alone, I dragged my dad along with me. One Sunday morning after a grueling two-hour 'trial' ride through some dense offroad tracks in extreme humidity and heat, we unwittingly (the sun must have fried our brain cells) signed on the dotted line and foolishly became members of the Bike Hash. In my defence, I was not myself that day. The night before, I had partied hard and was both hungover and had only two hours sleep. Plus I was about as unfit as a well, a very unfit fiddle.
The concept of the bike hash is simple. About once a month, a motley crew of crazy expats and even crazier locals meet at various locations to mountain bike through different areas of the island. 'Hares', those hardworking souls who lay the trail with either flour, chalk or toilet paper (only 100% biodegradable materials), map out a ride for the rest of us. There are false offshoots to ensure that the slower riders can catch up with the faster ones. The goal is to cover 20km in 2 hours, with the entire pack getting back to the starting point within 20 minutes of each other. Afterwards, what happens on the ride is dissected in the 'circle', where we welcome the virgins (first time riders). In addition, the person who comes up with the most stupid "quote of the day" and other individuals who commit any other transgressions have to participate in a "Down Down" ie basically a public humiliation.
Some of the members have hash names, which go along the lines of Oral Fix, Fat Stuck B*stard, G-String, No Good and so on. As you can imagine, these names usually stem from some unfortunate act or comment which the individual did or said. For almost six months, I was lucky enough not to have my more foolish moments witnessed by any of the other members. This was because I was always the slowest rider at the back of the pack. However, my luck ran out this past Sunday, when I was called into the circle for a personal best record of THREE times.
Transgression No 1:
During the first 10 minutes of the ride, my nose started to run. Not wanting to wipe snot on my sleeves, I politely asked the Grand Master who happened to be cycling by at the time, "Barbarian, may I take some of the toilet paper (that was used to lay the trail) to blow my nose?". Yes, in hindsight, I should have just quietly picked it off the bush and not brought attention to myself. However, I was smack bang in the middle of the pack and doing so would probably have incurred a worse punishment. I naively thought that Barbarian would not bring it up in the circle, but well, he did. And the result? I now have a hash name. Could it be something hot, perhaps sexy, maybe cool? No, it is....Nose Wipe. When I complained bitterly that I didn't like it, my so-called "friend", Oral Fix, shouted out, "Hey, at least be glad they didn't call you A** Wipe!". Okay, point taken.
Transgression No 2:
James* called me into the circle and told the following story about me, "Now before the ride this morning, I saw Nose Wipe cycling up and down the road. She seemed to be having some problems with her bike so I asked her what was wrong. She said that she was having difficulty changing the gears. So I thought perhaps it was some issue with the wiring, maybe the lever was stuck, whatever. But no, when I asked why she had couldn't change the gears properly, she told me, 'My nails are too long!'."
Transgression No 3:
No reason apart from the fact that they needed a local in the circle to do a "Down Down" with G-String and since I was already down (no pun intended)......
All in all, it was a hilarious day, though I have to admit the joke was on me. But if you can't laugh at yourself (or let 50 other people laugh at you), then what's the point? I love being a part of the SBH because I have seen some areas of the island that I otherwise wouldn't have, and I have also made some great friends.
Another highlight of the ride was that one of the 'Hares' was also named. Having recced the area several times while plotting out the trail in the preceeding weeks, he was stung by a hornet during the line of duty. His new hash name? Wh*renet. You gotta love it!
On On!
*Names have been changed not to protect the innocent, but to prevent them from kicking my b*tt
posted by SG Babe | 10:26 AM
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