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Run #150 - Saturday 12 June 1999 | |||||||||||||||||
 This run was the great 15% millennium jubilee. The starting point was for this event was beautiful mountain cabin of the Dog Handler family in the wilderness of Mjølfjell. It was a fairly small and exclusive pack, hereafter known as the Invincible Seven.As a true hasher never showers after a run, we started off by passing by an oversized waterfall, so all showering was done before we actually had started. Since Dog Handler was one of the hares, we naturally had to pass through a military camp. Luckily for us, it was deserted. A new tradition has been created in the club, so we had to pass over a bridge. It was scenic all right, but not one of these masterpieces of engineering. It was more like the bridges that Donald Duck is crossing when he is on expedition in the Andes, some pieces of wire and some pieces of wood neatly put together. And of course, Foggy Glasses and Pizzaman (creatures of the wilderness) had to start swinging and jumping while we were in the middle of the crossing. Just pure luck prevented us all from falling into the foaming and roaring river underneath. The observant hasher would have noticed that this was the only bridge crossing the river for miles up- and downstream, and the other side of the crossing was literally covered with check-backs. Most of them red, but there was one white, and we had to risk our lives once again to get back. The hares had than obviously thought that this was enough of wilderness for this run. The track was then set over a field, where a gentle and simple farmer of rural Norway had planned to let his cows eat the green and juicy grass, so that hungry little children could drink their healthy milk. Into this field we came running, flattening the grass and disturbing the peace, and the farmer didn't like this. He didn't like it at all, but since we had great diplomats like Beer Stop in our midst, we were allowed to continue, under doubt. At the end of this field, belonging to the gentle and peace-loving farmer, the hares had found what they thought was a perfect spot for a drink stop. With the farmer breathing down their necks, the hares committed the most disgusting rule breaking in the hash-history: The drink stop was moved, on the fly, to a more discrete location!! In the hope of getting absolution for this sin, another drink stop was later improvised, on another of the gentle farmer's fields. After a little more up- and downhill, we finally found the ON-INN at the railway station, and walked in from there.
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