*S3H3#92
The Friday the 13th Hash*
This Fridays run will take the hashers through the hems of Tan Dinh, a park with ballroom dancing, a pink church and possibly a certain “pink” and infamous alley. There will be no less than two PREMIUM beerstops. 1 local craft beer and 1 Suntory beer outlet. king premium beers.
A to A trail:
Bánh Xèo 46A
46A Đinh Công Tráng, Phường Tân Định, Quận 1, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh, Vietnam https://maps.app.goo.gl/3XRjtJmMBUTf7K79A
🏃♂️ Walk: Around 4km
Run: 7km
Beer stop included
📅 Check-In: 7pm
🚀 Departure: 7:30pm
🐰 Hares: Lurprick
💰 Hash Cash:
• Circle beer 100K per dude/ solo bills at dinner. Bring cash.
On On! 🍻🏃♂️
Run Report: 7.7 km of Guesswork, Lost Souls & Well-Earned Beer
S3H3 #92 – The Friday 13th Hash
With Tết looming (chúc mừng năm mới), Valentine’s Day around the corner, and absolutely no sensible life choices being made, a small band of brave heathens — definitely not athletes — gathered in Ho Chi Minh City to celebrate Friday 13th.
What we actually got was approximately 7.7 km of guesswork, mild confusion, and several hydration stops cleverly disguised as beer breaks.
Present were Hare Lurprick, visitor Spandex Man (clearly a spy from Hanoi HHH), visitor Dear Bitch (The Summit HHH, NJ), Chemically Castrated and Kinky Jesus, who would later make a dramatic cameo appearance at the end like a low-budget celebrity guest star.
True to hash tradition, Point A had already changed before we even started. Thanks to the Tết holiday, half the city had shut down and disappeared home, so we relocated to Brick ‘n’ Barrel — because nothing says “serious athletic endeavour” quite like beginning outside a bar.
Two minutes before the start, Lurprick made an important discovery: he couldn’t find his own chalk arrows.
Thus began five minutes of fully grown adults pacing up and down the street, staring intensely at the pavement like archaeologists hunting fossils. Eventually, we located the first arrow… heroically concealed behind a leaf. Camouflage level: elite.
Off we went, cautiously optimistic.
Unfortunately, the foliage had other plans.
Not once, but twice, arrows were expertly hidden behind innocent-looking leaves, which promptly sent the entire pack wandering off course in true hash fashion. Four supposedly intelligent adults were thoroughly outsmarted by basic horticulture. We weren’t beaten by distance or fitness… we were defeated by gardening.
From there, the trail only improved marginally. Arrows were faint, theoretical, or possibly imaginary. After 30 minutes of backtracking through hẻms like confused hedgehogs trapped in a Winmart shopping bag, we finally stumbled onto something resembling a trail. Dear Bitch wisely declared he was glad he hadn’t run and would rather head straight back to Point A for a beer. For once, nobody argued.
Miraculously, the hash featured two beer stops. Purely for energy management, of course. Strictly nutritional. Science.
Eventually, sweaty, dusty, and directionally challenged, we drifted back toward Point A.
There stood Kinky Jesus, pint already in hand, looking suspiciously fresh. His excuse? He’d gone for an Elvis Presley haircut but somehow emerged looking like George Formby. We accepted this explanation immediately because it required less running.
Overall, the hash was successful, and we celebrated the Friday 13th evening in style.