Category Archives: FUCH3

FUC HHH #1 – Friday 13th December – BmY

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By Alice…

The best ideas are simple – and usually a slight tweak on an existing one. The EEC used to destroy wine lakes and grain mountains. Byte had a similar idea for the MIH amber mountain – but with more sociable results.

So we met 6pm just off Ruamchok Jct close to Byte Mansions and off we went FUCing. Or should I say Friday Urban ChiangMai H3ing.

It was dark very soon and we jogged along on flour and got strung out pretty fast. We went round in a big clockwise circle through the sois, moobaans, empty lots and even a temple. Powder was mostly good to see but circles could be tricky!
I chatted amiably with Krappy and then Belly and HRA. A check with a back trail messed up Suckit and soon I was jogging along with him, BD and HRA close behind as finding marks in the dark slowed me down from gentle jog to just above idling.

After perhaps 3km NOYB appeared roadside with a bootful of refreshments. A cold Tiger mid run, most convivial. Belly was bleating abit that his expected 1km saunter wasn’t turning out to be quite that and demanded inside info from NOYB who remained calm and nonchalant, professing little idea of how far was left. “You’re bloody driving and you came from there so you must know! pleaded the freshfaced Gooner.

Last 2km I jogged with Suckit trying to run on powder not the other side of the road. A last turn and lost trail. I went left – wrong. Suckit went right and there was Byte’s moobaan.

Poo and Young & Rich were out to find stragglers while we settled down on chairs to make a dent in that amber mountain.

After a quick debate we had a fun circle with a naughty chair. It was personable, good humoured and manageable – quite the opposite of the Malaysian invasion of CH4. The wing cap was purloined repeatedly until BmY produced a second to introduce more slapstick. Pooying sat on men being charged, big men sat on other men being charged and mayhem of the nicest kind ensued.

Great job Byte, Mrs and NOYB for trail, hosting and service. The rabble went home happy if not a tad squiffy.