The We Can Do It Run. Well simply put, no you can’t. Maybe if it had been called the If it can be fucked up, then we can fuck it up run, we may have agreed. But before we get ahead of ourselves let’s look at the build up to the run. The original lead hare was G3 (Ging Gang Goolies) and he was to be assisted by SKBC (Sour Kraut Bone Collecter). However, within a fortnight of the run date G3 found himself in lust with a Russian lady who by all accounts looked as though she had been an early experiment in the field of botox and facial realignment surgery. Whatever, G3 declared that he was too busy to fulfil the role of hare, even though he had been committed to it for many months and passed all responsibilities to SKBC with about 12 days to go. We all know that SKBC is a top man, but could he handle a monkey run with no support? Of course, he couldn’t, so considering himself to be French this month, he recruited two more frogs, Dirty Pussy and Street Cleaner as co hares. A good move? Better than nothing…. We knew there was going to be no shirt due to the situation with the hares; that’s not a problem for most of us regular Monkey attendees, but we had 9 virgins on the sign-up list, which for a time was just about full. In addition to the high number of virgins we had a number of irregular visitors from up North and down South, so we were all hoping for a good effort from the hares. Questions were first asked when it came to light, that the departure time was later than usual, by one hour. Were we getting a short run? Was the journey out to the A site going to be 10 minutes or less? Not even the GM knew, it was all in the hands of the hares, as is the custom on a Monkey Run. (mutterings of discontent by now). The sign-up fee was dropped to 900 baht as there wouldn’t be a shirt as G3 was due to take care of this part of the operation The run day came and the assembled chimps set off on schedule in a number of baht buses and private vehicles, coming to a stop not far from Soi Siam Golf club. In itself, it was a non-descript spot, on the flat in close proximity to some of our least (or most, if you’re a masochist) favoured hills. Oh, and it was hot. Whilst waiting for the Hares and GM to ready themselves for the first circle, about 30 chimps huddled together in the shadow of a single tree that was within easy striking distance. The GM was first to address the crowd and did his usual bit before handing over to the hares. I guess by this point that I should have mentioned that speaking English for the hares was something of an obstacle, so their briefing left a little to be desired. But we did learn, through the presence of paint cans, that checks and back checks were virtually the same colour. Not always a problem but with about 25 % of the runners being virgins and or visitors, it was of some concern to the older more experienced hashers there. And just to keep us even more on edge, the hares showed us the brown paper that they had decided to use to mark the trail. Nice. The first 1.5 km was unremarkable, a few checks, lots of pineapple plantations, but getting ever closer to the base of the hill, which incidentally, is known as The Hill from Hell. I’m not sure how it got that name. Well, I did 40 minutes later having suffered the deep ruts and severe inclines that led us to the false peak. Several times I had to slow down, ok, stop altogether, as I expected to be reacquainted with at least a few of the previous night’s Leos which seemed desperate to leave my body the same way they went in 12 hours earlier. Did I mention the false peak? Good. Because that’s where Mayo Queen found his 5 minutes of glory. He was about 100 m ahead of me and as I approached a bend in the road, he was heading back towards me. ‘Backcheck’ he stated. So obviously the few of us together began to look for a backcheck, retracing our steps. It was a brilliant spot for a backcheck with about a dozen different opportunities for true trail, but we couldn’t find the sticks that the front runners would have positioned for us towards the back of the pack. After about 15 mins of fruitless searching the distant call of ‘on on’ was heard, from the direction of the backcheck. Unbelievably as we got to the backcheck it was in fact, a check. The orange paint marks where the sticks had been, shaped in a cross, clearly visible. That was just as well, as the sticks were literally painted bits of grass, about 3mm thick. Mayo Queen scarpered ahead, ensuring no eye contact with the rest of us. Things could only get better, surely? I like Mayo Queen, he’s better than most Belgians and all Aussies and Americans. But he’s still a twat. For a while, it did seem that the rest of the trail would be reasonably straight forward, that was until we turned from the edge of a tapioca field into some dense undergrowth at the top of a gulley. Naturally enough at the bottom of the 15 m gulley was water. We knew we were going to go down and get our feet wet, but despite 3 of us looking, the brown hanging paper evaded our eyes, until it was literally right in front of our noses. The cool running water and the shade in the gulley was actually quite pleasant, for the first 20 mins or so. The truth is that the trail took us about 500m downstream. A stream that cascaded down over mini waterfalls, slippery rocks and hidden holes in the sandy bottom. Low hanging branches full of thorns encouraged progress on your hands and knees. Treacherous. But like everything, it came to an end, and on this occasion at a spectacular 10m waterfall, which we did circumnavigate rather than tumble down. Somebody with me suggested a photo. I really considered banging their head on a rock and drowning them. I get grouchy when I’m tired. Just as well the rest of the trail, about another 3 km was simple, but by the time I got into the B site I had been out for 2 hr 20 mins. No sign of the FRBs who had already made off for the C site, which we were advised was a flat 4km away. Question to the hares… you expected us to trust you at this stage? So, the decision was made to opt out of the second section, a decision that was easier as everyone else coming in to the B site agreed with. So, we sat in the shade, had a cold drink a bit of fruit and a mini bar of chocolate, lovely! After a while of chatting with SKBC at the B site and noticing that the drinks trucks were all still with us, suggested to him that maybe some drinks should be dispatched to the C site for the FRBs as they arrived there? After setting one of the baht buses off to collect a few stragglers that hadn’t made it back to the B site, that’s what he did, sort of. Trouble was it was now an hour after the FRBs had set off on the flat 4km to the C site. Next problem was although he gave the drivers instructions to go to the Polo Club, he didn’t say exactly where; and most of us know at least a dozen different sites that could potentially host the C site. A couple of wrong turns, and a couple of phone calls and we eventually trundled up to the lakeside where VV with his truck, laden with food, was waiting with about 15 dehydrated FRBs. The mood was tense. It took another 10 mins before one of the drinks trucks arrived and it was full of beer. Hurray! The beer was still in cardboard cases and around 27 degrees C. Boooo! But hold on, what’s that cloud of dust approaching everyone wondered? Hurray! It’s SKBC in his truck with cold drinks and the tables required for VV to prepare the food. Emergency stop executed by SKBC and another cloud of dust, but no one was injured. Thank Goodness! It’s all worked out ok in the end! What a relief! Hold on! Wait. What do you mean it’s already 5.45 – it’ll be dark in 30 mins. And so it was. 30 mins in which to appreciate the great food produced by VV, to get a few beers in, have a circle, welcome all the virgins and visitors and pack up. Can’t lie, it was a bit rushed. The GM allowed everyone 2 beers for the ride home and didn’t lose the top of his head in an apoplectic rage which seemed a certainty at various stages of the late afternoon. Weirdly, G3 was with us, and wearing a shirt which was due to be the run shirt. For some reason he had time to get 10 shirts made for his own personal use but the runners all missed out. The virgins were given the opportunity to buy the generic Monkey Virgin shirt, which most of them did. For the record the second stage was about 4km and flat, but was all on dirt tracks, had no checks and was in the full glare of the afternoon sun. The sort of trail to develop a good thirst. Good decision by me to give it a swerve. The hares did manage to fuck up a lot. Nearly everything in fact. But they tried. They won’t be criticised for lack of effort. To be fair, the first section, just over 9km was a very good trail, worthy of a Monkey Run – just use white paper next time guys. As for the rest of the day it was all the logistics that went wrong, but the 2 hares that stepped in at the last moment have our gratitude, as does SKBC who tried to carry it all off. And to be fair, it was the second of 3 hares he did for different hashes in the space of 5 days. Should have sussed it out early from this, that he couldn’t organise a piss up in the jungle. Who the fuck volunteers for 3 hares in 5 days?