It was with great excitement that the Shiggydusters gathered one Sunday in Pioneer Park in Kaleden. Shagger from the Coast was up holidaying for a few weeks and had agreed to be the hare. He comes here every year and knew lots of wonderful routes to take us on. Stinky was going to be his co-hare. We had some new hashers in the form of JustGary and JustMarco. When we arrived there were no hares in sight, but Spermbank assured us that they were out getting things ready. Back they came, and Stinky looked like he was wearing half the course… an ominous sign. The walkers arrived, rumours of more hashers still playing golf and we took off.

Let me mention now that like most of the Okanagan Valley, Kaleden is not flat. Hill training comes into play on almost every hash, and this one was no different. Up we climbed, admiring scenic vistas, panoramic views, onto goat trails, finding back checks… Shunty got harangued by some of the locals for using their goat trail. We arrived at the Kaleden Cemetery and had a nice chat with a fellow who is looking to sell it. For those interested in cemeteries. For sale. We also experienced our first taste of the cacti. Large patches abounded but there was a good trail through it all.

We ended up overlooking the KVR trail and could see hash markings farrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr below and a large check to the south. There had been rumours of the hash ending in OK Falls so down a funky tire staircase we went. We ran into co-hare Stinky at this point and he offered some helpful hints. (such as ‘Don’t go that way’) Heading south, JustGary and Shunty ran into a backcheck and at that time the pack splintered. The other route headed up a claybank cliff lined with lovely cacti. The only thing that would have made it more perfect would have been a gondola, but hey… we’re hashers. As the group cursed and fought their way up the hill, Shunty shook his head and blew through the backcheck. JustGary wasn’t sure what to do but felt their was safety in numbers and rejoined the pack, now suffering from nosebleeds from the altitude climb. Once atop, the group found that they were completely surrounded by cacti and gingerly danced across the deer tracks, under a barbed wire fence and out onto the old Kaleden highway. This dirt road headed south, paralleling the KVR (and possibly Shunty). We saw Spermbank down below, whose job was to shepherd the walkers so we knew we were on the trail. At OK Falls, the trail led along the river channel and we felt sure the end was near. I mean, hey… we were out of water at this point, it was extremely hot, it had to be close. Time passes, and we run into Shunty who has been doing wind repeats back and forth one of the channel bridges for some strange reason. Curses at the hares are tossed out, a fluid inventory is done (very quickly) and we keep heading south.

Finally, the route crosses the river channel (yay) and begins heading back up the other side! Shunty had been right but didn’t go far enough to see the marks! We begin to explore the rarely seen inter-urban OK Falls forest. Cool windy trails, creek crossings, rabid dogs… or was that the pack? At some point, we lose the trail, but we are very close and Stinky casually mentions that we should go a certain way. We’re licking the sweat off our retina for hydration so we follow. The trail leads to the beach and along to a rocky prominence where Shagger has set up a feast of potato chips and beer! Half the group dives into the water, the other half dives into the beer and chips and the third half does both. Once everyone cools down we circle up, harangue the hares, toast the virgins and have a laugh. I believe that Dickweasel finally shows up at this point, having headed out late on the course and ran without the help of a guiding hare. He politely offers knuckle sandwiches all around, but noone is biting. We wind things up and head back to Kaleden to gather our cars, kids and minds. On-on!

The skies did not look promising for the 43rd running of the Shiggydusters’ Hash and Philthee was quite worried about his precious flour markings, as all DeadHares do. We had a visiting hasher in the form of Shagger, up for some holidaying from the Coast. After cursing him for bringing us the rain, and Philthee convincingly confusing us with cryptic symbols (like this never ever happens), we were off!

After a few short blocks, Stinky, Spermbank and Hugo joined the pack and we wound our way up the hillside. The group was getting spread out (or lost) and after heading downhill the pack started heading for the famous Esplanade trail behind the Yacht Club. Many a hash has slipped and slid it’s way up and down it’s nefarious trails. Dickweasel lead the pack on the lower route, while Bagboy climbed up to the top and dashed along, not realizing he had sucked Spermbank into following him. The pack re-organized halfway up and realizing that Spermbank was either lost/hurt/orjustnotthere checked with spouse Stinky on what to do. Stinky cried ‘On on’ and we were off again!

Climbing up to the KVR and along to the cemetery where a funeral was being held in the rain. A subdued pack crept past and up a goat track, to yet a steeper goat track that climbed up Munson Mtn. The hare might not have realized, but this was the trail from the May Long weekend hash. The hare had planned the beercheck for on the very top of Munson Mtn, but there was a wedding going on in the pouring rain. The non-believing pack sucked back on their beer and gazed out into the mist ver Okanagan Lake. Finally, with no beer left we started back down the other side. Philthee tried to mislead us by suddenly switching sides of the road but we were too clever, only to be done in a half block later, where only Dickweasel went the proper way. The pack was heading downhill and could not be called back, but it was just as well as the hare’s flour marks had finally washed away and Dickweasel was left high and… very wet. The hare came to the rescue and got DW pointed on the straight and narrow and eventually everyone (well, except one) made it back to the start to circle up.

Down-Downs
Philthy for a shitty shitty trail replete with lots of shig, steep mountain hills and vistas, but mainly for continuing to be uber conservative with his use of flour and chalk, and obviously not learning anything from his previous haring.

Bag Boy and Just Jason for trying to pick up a couple of hot women they met on the way down Munson mountain by conceiving a plan to impersonate a couple of visiting French tourists…their attempt unfortunately fell apart after the “voulez-vous…avec moi” introduction when they realized they didn’t know any French songs to seductively serenade them with. Hence, they remained silent as the ladies passed…

Dickweasel for choosing to hash instead of spend the day with his son golfing, and also for being the frb. (It should be noted he did a double down-down in the stacked position…most amazing)

Moaner Lisa was busted doing a few hill repeats during the hash and she was also using non-hash names to refer to her fellow hashers.

Shunty for no other reason than he was looking thirsty.

And a couple were doled out in honor of our visitors from the Vancouver Hash – Shagger and Hardon

For those wondering about poor, dear Spermbank, she did show up at the on-after… spitting venom about standing at the Turkey beer-check for untold hours. At the start the hare had let the pack know that there wouldn’t be a Turkey check as none of the Turkeys had shown up, but Spermie wasn’t there.

There was also a special “re-naming” at the circle…from Bag Boy’s earliest harings, there have been grumblings about him being half goat, mostly due to the steep inclines that he seems to think we love running up. As soon as spring hit, he stopped wearing running shoes – preferring to run in sandals…again, more rumours of him being a goat. Then one day his sandal broke and he ran barefoot on single track trail, and a couple of weeks ago he actually live hared a run in the woods barefoot again. He obviously has hooves and his name has now been officially preceeded with “Goat” ala Goat Bag Boy. Henceforth he will be known as Goat-Bag, Goat-Boy, or just plain G Bag Boy. (As a side note, his 500ml can of naming beer was downed in 14.2 seconds)