Hopping along at Glasshouse
The Glasshouse Mountains provided the scenic backdrop for the April 25 Samford Hash House Harriers Inc run.
Fittingly, being Anzac Day, our pickled (sorry seasoned) veterans, Skidmark and Sherpa, stepped into the breach as hares. Setting off from Glasshouse Mountain Holiday Village, they led us through a maze of pineapple plantations and forest trails, with the occasional swamp thrown in for good measure. Falsies, back checks and hold checks, though plentiful, failed to slow the fleet-footed FRBs as they made a bee-line for the beer.
In their haste, some runners opted for a more direct route home. But not Winnie. Refusing to deviate from the path of righteousness, she blundered on into a swamp, where she came across Pooh, courtesy of a passing horse.
Back at base camp, a lively circle and sausage sizzle and retribution for the criminal elements awaited. Gerbils led an academic discussion on ways of reducing the growing population of bufo marinus (what a great hash name!), better known as cane toads.
Together with toad whisperer, Wopa, she proceeded to catch as many of the critters as could be stuffed into a plastic bag, ready for painless despatch in her freezer. Flower, normally no shrinking violet, wilted in disgust at the spectacle. Luckily, she failed to notice some of the sausages hopping off the BBQ! Bigfoot sneaked off to watch Dr Who on the telly - leaving the remaining members of our own horny, wildlife specie – hasher vulgaris – to party on.