#301: Where the Fuck is Eno

Who would have thought that the combo of WTFAI and Fresh 🥩 would produce the clear front runner for the prestigious “Run of the Year” award, and what a run/walk it was.

There was plenty of complaints to begin the trail with murmurs of “too much road” and “Palestine flags what???”. Though fears were quickly quashed as we entered virgin bush, and I’m sure we murdered at least a dozen snakes although it was so thick it was hard to tell. Finally making it out of the scrub, and into the fire as we found even more virgin bush. The complaints began to ring in the ears again as claims of “I brought the wrong shoes” to “that’s not a spider, this is a spider”. Luckily the rumours were true and there was a drink stop, albeit at the top of a 158 stair climb, and what better setting to down some homebrew ales and Canadian maple whiskey, than in a kids playground 🛝.

The walkers had almost as much action on the way up as the runners did, when Ballbags decided to race Spiderman up the stairs. After 3 heart failures (thank god for public Defib machines) they reached the pinnacle.

I didn’t know that paramedics use Subaru’s, but I guess you learn something new everyday. As the walkers rolled down the hill in their Japanese manufactured gurney, the runners headed into their biggest challenge yet.

With multiple threats of on-backs at the peak of some rather large hills we finally entered the final stretch of virgin bush for the night. (Who knew there was so much untraversed territory in the streets of nernag??) Upon entering the gauntlet, 4 turned to 3 as one of the largest spiders ever seen on a hash run had the captain of the arachnophobia athletics club shaking in his boots and running for dear life( in the wrong direction). The 3 brave souls passed the spider and the 2 vicious pit bulls snapping at our heels to eventually make it back to the clubhouse.

It wasn’t until we arrived back that we noticed 1 missing. Surprisingly he had no phone, no Apple Watch, no sense of direction and Eno’s fuck-all. After 2 seperate search parties failed to find him, we waited, and waited and finally he found his way back home. He only had to door knock one of the locals, who after a sneaky hand job and a smooch, dropped our dear Eno back home.

As you could imagine there were more spiteful and vindictive charges than usual, although it all seemed to be pointed in one direction.

All in all a great night, great food, great trail. Eno’s luck finally changed as he won the raffle