CHOO CHOOOOOOOOOO All aboard the one and only VOKDA TRAIN!! Beijing Hash House Harriers welcomed with open arms our truly hardcore comrades who had spent 18 cooped up inside the trans-Siberian train; swigging vodka, composing songs, sporting their AWESOME haberdashery and generally fulfilling their international hash duties – getting wasted and spreading the hash lurve. On-on to the MaPaMa Baker Vodka Infused Decade Hash featuring the Vodka Train!

An impressive crowd showed up to support the wonderful Hash bar Tims and to welcome our trans-Siberian friends. Special mention to Black Turd, who managed to handle all the hash cash with one arm. According to pretty Woman “our ‘one winged friend’ clearly been w*nking too much and had fractured his arm”, this did not stop Dude Where’s My Trail greeting him with a friendly punch on the shoulder. The bright-blue cast is kind of a give-away DWMT!! We Hope you get better soon BT!

Once all piled onto the bus, GM Snot had the tricky task of informing the hashers that there were to be no road sodas on the bus ride to the bakery. THE HARES!!!!! Pretty Woman motivated the masses in a 1984-style 2 Minutes Hate by inciting the masses to send text messages to Master Baker demanding ‘Wo Das F*ck is Das Beer?!?!’

Despite a severe lack of liquid on the bus, visiting hashers Flyer and Half Pint heard the call of nature and decided to try out the local squatter. They chose not to take on board Nutcracker’s warnings about the poor quality of the toilet, declaring: “We just spent 18 days on a train, no toilet can scare us anymore!” 30 seconds later, they ran out squealing and dry heaving. Never underestimate how unsanitary China can be, lovely ladies.

As Cumshot joined the locals in the exercise park and tried to eavesdrop on the suspected by-standing PSB comrade trying to shut us down, Master Baker described the unusual marks, including some very grumpy looking open checks. As hashers scattered to find the trail, Master Baker leisurely cruised around on his BIKE (what a w*nk) and waited for us to find our way. After running through some very nice park space, we came to a grumpy open check with no other marks in sight. Hashers halfheartedly checked the surrounding area, but most opted out to stand around in the shade and listen to Pickle Boy trying to pronounce the word “philanthropy”.

With a little help from the hare we found our way and were led to a dingy little river which we had to cross by any means possible. Hungary for Ass checked out a flimsy looking branch that he thought could support him across, and soon discovered that it couldn’t. Nutcracker checked out a pipe just downstream and with her ballerina training, managed to balance her way across. However, the rest of the hashers took the third option – JUMP! Kudos to the hares for adding super fun team building obstacle courses. A few scraped knees, soggy shoes and an extremely brief Hash Hold later, we were on-under to a Vietcong-style tunnel that brought us out to the other side of the road.

With the first beer stop in sight, Master Baker started getting very generous with his clues to the trail, and soon enough we were in a lovely shady spot enjoying some chilled beer. Soon after, we headed out into some real shitty trail, some so shitty in fact that Cock Sourcerer proclaimed adamantly “The trail stops here! There is no more trail!” Pull the sweatband out of your eyes buddy; you are stood directly ON trail!
Heaps of festering rubbish led us to beer stop number 2, where the temptation of an icy cold beverage was so overwhelming for our visitor OBS, that upon sight of the cooler ran at full tilt to be greeted by a cup of beer. Hasher through and through Black Eyed Tits was happily enjoying her beer when her cup accidentally slipped through her hands. We are all very glad that this hasher has her priorities straight, as she took a heroic dive to save the beer with complete disregard for her genuine (not Silk Market) RayBan aviators. Although the beer was saved, her glasses unfortunately didn’t make it, and one of her lenses fell out and broke. Black Eyed Tits, beer is important and we salute you for your efforts to save beer.

A large iron bar/concrete wall was the final obstacle standing between the hashers and cold beer, delicious pretzels and a large block of ice. Once in the circle, the down-downs/debauchery began, with Head Consultant was the first to get his butt cheeks frosted as he was named and shamed by our RA D&C, for NEVER coming to the hash, but only showing up when a sausage-tastic bbq was offered. Genghis Cum was accused of not being patriotic or loving his home country enough to welcome the vodka train into Ulaanbaatar. Snot was celebrating his not-quite 300th run, as his current number is about 298, however the Bakers clearly felt 298 was a worthy enough number and credited Snot with 300 on the sleeves and a long Snotisim in front of our MaPaMa baker vodka train shirt. Tapass and the recently named, One Nipple Up chilled their bums for not signing up on the website yet still coming to the run, even after countless email reminders!  And here goes a very special one:


So it continues… Such a large circle of rowdy hashers soon became hard to control, and Circus Freak took it upon himself to restore order to the circle. Armed with his water gun, he was seen running around the circle training little kids how to squirt chatterboxes in the back of the head. Our lovely resident Russki drinker Olga, showed visiting Russki Half Pint that in fact she is NOT the best vodka drinker in town, by powering down a very fully cup of vodka in record time. We are proud to have you represent us. Erin was called into the circle for engaging in some hanky panky on the hash, as there were handprint marks on her ass. Automatic Balls was called into the circle after he truly disgraced himself on the run. He declared to fellow hashers that although beer is good for you and actually has lots of vitamins, it should not be drunk whilst running. Now, we are not sure what kind of hashes y’all are organizing in Germany, but in China we man the f*ck up and drink beer as we run, vitamins or no vitamins. End of.

However, we must not discredit our visiting hashers in their hardcore-ness. They proved to in numerous occasions throughout the circle that they had balls. Numerous occasions. Lots of balls. “WE PAID EXTRA FOR THIS?!” Cock Sourcerer squealed in excitement at the sight of such stunning scrotal specimens

The circle was wrapped up by visiting GM Enos, who treated us to a weird and wonderful water display that can only be described as, well, sticking his head in a bin of water and making noises, and falling over at the end. What a hero!

A huge sigh of relief resounded as on-food was called, and as always the Baker family laid on an incredible spread. Accusations continued to fly over dinner, including all those dimwits who walked into the glass door outside the bakery – Doggy Fondue!!!!! Full of food and beer, and extraordinarily rapturous version of swing low followed, and the buses headed off to Tims.