Seeing a “bright light” is probably just human brain hallucinating caused by activity in the brain as cells begin to die.

“I don’t really know if I believe in God, especially not in this Santa Claus character that people seemed to have conjured up.”  Quentin Tarantino once said. 20 hashers cut the corners to demonstrate a Quentin’s trail with dramatizing more than the Hateful Eight, because the dead of winter whispers sweet nothings to a hard-earned clear day, more because it’s Christmas season, more because a heavy artificial snowfall in the corner of a lake in Taoran park being blown hard by 3 big blowers and Bob is your uncle! It shows a remote resemblance from the other parks.

The hashers take group photo with retro-archway. The local regulars enjoy their downshifting at cross purpose in the park. The rabbit’s foot is the Taoran park doesn’t charge admission ticket anymore. Wearing a T-shirt and shorts is Crash Test Dummy who jogs past to capture public attention and admiration from locals. Out of the park into a canal path. Just Conncor lopes to gasp in rhythm. Principal Penetration is right behind.  A combo of runners leave no stone unturned for the signs but nothing for a little while and double back to catch sight of the hare Cheesy Balls standing on a foot bridge waving to the hashers. Crossing a busy south 2nd ring road to reach the second beer stop.

Some hashers sit on the steps for a break and are soon frozen to their feet. Heart On and Just Emmy have to jump up and down on the steps to keep warm. The walking hare Not Tonight guides 5 walkers to wander off like Karate, Just Niuniu, Just Fay, etc. It dawns upon the runners and having to run to warm ourselves. When we pass through a bright and empty tunnel, feel like we have entered a magic world. Down to another canal path, the other running hare Cums for Seconds leads the way with Blow Harder, Piss & Chips and Pickle Boy to a short cut toward the restaurant. When meeting up the rest of runners and we are occupied with looking for the hares, not for the marks, in that there’s no sign at all. The hare CB checks his phone to yell a way out at every moment and the runners join in singing Shitty Trail song until getting into another mini-park on marked trail. HO sighs she has forgotten what the signs look like. As soon as we file out of the park gate, see back to HH House. Ahead of hitting the first beer stop, the better part of which the hare conducts the runners into a brand new a sea of hutongs at fair lick.

A spacious private room of the posh Xijiang restaurant cushions the hashing circle against the nippiness outside. Just Wil exits beforehand. Proxy GM HO and RA Piss & Chips carry weight to motivate the hashers standing in circle around a big round table. 5 virgins stay together for their a welcoming ceremony. Into The Shaven Woods ends up his visit of partaking BJH3’s hashing 3 times and accepts FOYW song by the hashers. An unknown drinks his new soccer shoe figuratively. HO also becomes a Songstress by smoothly asserting herself with the due Hash songs for the situations as the hashers would rather it lasted longer. Cock Chain seems to have learned some in his silence. After several “accusations”, it follows that HO is adept in chanting the International Hash Hymn with the crew vividly. 7 hashers remain the ember of the Hash on dinner. Then Blow Job as latecumer arrives in a rush for the Hash food. We have a field day.

On On…

Pickle Boy

Beijing. Tuesday,

December 11, 2018