Saint Pat’s Day Trail!
* No relation
Cycling over from Schaerbeek, singing my favourite tunes,
I'd like to say in a sort of way there's nothing like alcohol,
There's nothing like alcohol good crew, be it spirits, beer or wine,
So be sure that the Hash has got plenty to drink and I'm sure they'll run just fine!
Well the Hash assembled in the sun,
The look of the weather worried only one,
That was made quite clear in the pre-run preamble,
Plus that anyone not wearing green was taking more than a gamble!
The Hash set off sure footed and I thought I had time,
But was fooled by the pack who were quickly out of sight,
So I remained with the walkers hearing tales of Eurostar,
And watching dogs commune with others hounds not always from afar,
The fenced off lake gave the run a really Belgian feel,
No excuses of why into its grounds we could not steal,
Then past the houses where the knobs had sunk their money,
Into the forest with its interwoven trails, today no longer sunny.
But the sun did appear when the beer-stop we found,
The walkers already drinking before the runners came around,
As they stole amongst us quietly the beverages to share,
Within just a part of an hour, all of them were there.
As a group we were not really so far back into the park,
The Eskis, snacks and Jamison's* pulled out of a car,
Drinks flowed among those controlling their vessels,
Or flew for Old Squirty lying on an Eski - his beetle impression trestle,
The first was a 'slow-pour' – just lie there if you are on your back,
Then an impressive 'bombing-run' by Sugar Tits the highlight after that.
The toilet facilities caught some of us out,
A branch on a tree sought the bridge of my nose out,
I broke off the offending limb with some pulling and a twist,
But I've spent long enough in them to know that you can't tidy the forest.
Well done Mick Mac and Moule en Rouge!