Sandpit Hash’s third run

For the third outing of the Sandpit Hash, we were led into Oman by some members of the Dubai Desert Hash, with the promise of a “camp site at one of the few unspoiled places in this part of the world, far away from any light pollution”.

That and free beer. And a free breakfast provided by Little Mo. But let’s assume that the biggest number of participants yet for a Sandpit hash — 38! — was because of the chance to see the milky way.

Either way, once we’d managed to unbog the plethora of 4x4s which managed to get stuck on the short sandy section on the way in, we arrived at the campsite.

It quickly became obvious that they’d found a particularly nice bit of the desert in which to host the Sandpit hash. With a craggy mountain on one side and a mammoth red dune on the other, there was a mostly sheltered campsite in between.

Although some found it had characteristics remarkably similar to a wind tunnel.

After a short briefing from Honey Bunny and the hares, Spitbull and Batman, we headed out into the desert.

The logic of the route, it had to be said, seemed a little hard to fathom. All was explained later when we were shown the GPS track of the course and realised they’d used the Sandpit Hash logo as the template for the run.

Batman admitted he’d been disappointed when the beer stop (the presence of which forms the one and only rule of the Sandpit Hash) couldn’t be located in the pint glass held by the nominal camel. Instead we gathered at a site on the camel’s neck, which seemed a close second best option, next only to the camel’s bladder. But more of that later.

And, in keeping with the course theme, we ran into a camel, albeit one that didn’t have a pint glass in its hand. But the young one with her suggested she had her own drinks option in place.

When we say “run”, it’s fair to say not everyone was actually running. Or even walking. One of our Desert Hash brethren managed to crawl his way up a dune.

But he survived.

The dune turned out to be a giant plateau, with a series of rolling slopes much smaller than the initial headwall we’d worked our way up.

And when the esky/cooler/chilly bin of beer was spotted, it was fair to say that for some the enthusiasm to follow the course waned in favour taking a short cut to a frosty cold beverage.

The result that the route as actually followed by most hashers made the camel appear to be afflicted by a serious genetic abnormality. (Which is probably also a pretty accurate description of my running style)

Prancer reached it first, soon to be followed by many others.

The hares had chosen a fine place to watch the sunset.

Although we ran out of beer by then and wandered down to the campsite before the sun went below the horizon.

The circle was called.

Punishments were handed out for those who didn’t have a hash shirt. Aarfabithore was forced to take his off and was given one by another hasher who, in the way of things, was then cited for not wearing her hash shirt…

Then we settled into the serious matter of sitting around the fire and putting the world to rights.

The next morning, Little Mo provided breakfast for everyone. Then it was time to head back out to the road and head back home.

We’d already been making plans for Sandpit Hash number four, to be held on a deserted* tropical** island*** on April 6. Details to follow.

(* probably. ** nearly, but it’s only a little way north of the tropic of cancer. *** artificial island, but hey, we’ll take it.)

Sandpit Hash number 5 will be on May 4, located on a plateau in the Hajar mountains high enough to moderate the heat and hosted by some members of the Dubai Desert Hash.

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1 Comment

  1. Derek Griffin

     /  March 18, 2012

    Good one as usual, Short Hand Job. Pithy and accurate. ON ON to Sandpit Four.

    Reply

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