#315 : Baah’s ANZAC Bash

It was a night for the history books, though most of us are trying to drink enough to erase the memory of that first incline. We kicked off Run #315 with the solemn notes of the bugle and the traditional Rum and Milk, a fitting start for Baah Sinister’s Anzac Day Memorial Run. Little did we know, that was the last bit of “fitting” the night would offer before the Hare decided to reenact a forced march through the trenches.

The hill at the beginning was enough to kill the fittest soldier, but the Hare wasn’t done; he proceeded to lead us onto a Black rated bike trail that was clearly not fit for human presence. The only redeeming quality of the entire ordeal was the Port at the first drink stop. After that climb, most of us were struggling to breathe, let alone swallow, but we persevered like the heroes we are.

Once the walkers ambled off, the runners proceeded into the abyss. Nothing overly eventful happened until we stumbled upon the walkers, who had apparently got lost behind enemy lines and managed to land right in the middle of the runners’ trail. To make matters worse, Eno proved to be a back-running bastard yet again, intercepting the trail between the front and back-runners. Speaking of the front, our esteemed GM, Pepe le Spew (or rather, le Caca), couldn’t maintain his position and offered up a cacophony of excuses for his lack of pace.

The real challenge was the descent. Whatever goes up must come down, and we found ourselves back at the first drink stop to finish the stashed Port. Once the Penfolds bottle was dry, we headed down the hill where The Fuck Am I truly deserved his name; he found out exactly where he was very quickly, which was on the floor. Twice. The good news is that Claret was spilt, and thankfully it wasn’t the quality goon-bag port we’d just finished.

Menstral heard there were hungry fish at the bottom so he rushed down the hill in his feet gloves – and got a charge for his over achieving
The drama continued when we discovered our base had been “attacked,” forcing a retreat to HQ, only to find the gates locked. After watching Arsenic take approximately 30 turns to maneuver his vehicle while Eno’s tiny car blocked the entire world, we finally landed at Rotaract Park. We refuelled on an Irish stew prepared by Baah Sinister who thoughtfully brought toilet paper for Fresh Meat’s ride home. the usual charges were laid, and the circle was closed.

OnOn!