Saturday's hash was an emotional, yet liberating day for some hashers. Once again MVH3 found itself running near what has become our pagan shrine to indecency and debauchery, Lorton Prison. As hasher's paid homage to fellow brethren still interned, Pudknocker and Missing Link laid a trail near enough to the prison walls for Byte Lightning to wax reminiscent about "the good ole' days" when he was not just the hash ho' but somebody's bitch too. Stained Sheets was also moved by his own memories of a recent Bastille Day hash when it was declared by the unanimous vote of fellow prisoners that he truly does have the "purtiest mouth." On that same day Harddrive was given the renowned Ned Beatty Award for best piggy squeal. Ahh, yes, my fellow hashers, it was a day when memories were relived and old friendships rekindled. The FRBs were already off on a BT not two minutes into this trail. We quickly crossed Silverbrook into a housing development which due to the size of the houses might be renamed Goldbrook. The sleepy neighborhood dwellers were clueless as to the raggedy, band of hashers in their midst. This was a good thing because Hard Drive ripped down the giant seven-foot, grinning pink stork sign from the front yard of the house of two breeders who annoyingly broadcasted the birth of another oxygen consumer. Like hasty pudding, we soon found ourselves running towards a lake. What do you think we saw, my feckless, tennis-shoe festooned band of idiots , once we got to the bank? That's right an asphalt bike path around the lake shore! Very original!! And what should hashers do when confronted with this scenario? That's right my pointy headed wonders, run around the lake and look for beaver!! Beaver, did someone say beaver, I'll have some of that !! We had a hard time getting Steamer out of the beaver preserve, go figure. OK, so there we are running along a lake shore, over hither and yonder, over hill and dale, when will this be over. Spread Sheets and Rutro were back admiring the Flora and Fauna, while Cunning Runt was rumored to have been in these parts earlier. Finally, Oh joy, trail lead us into another housing development (or the far side of the one we started in) and by some lucky short-cutting on my part, I wound up in front of French Toasted and Dr. Strangelove, who clearly were fatigued by the excessive heat of the day. Across Silverbrook again, trail remained true to form, an asphalt road race on bike paths and down streets. Was that Mudbuns who yelled Beer Far?
See Dick Run was seen crossing through busy traffic into a new construction development and the smell of Slick's stew pulled us into the On-In (or was that the smell of the Jack Daniels Beer ; yes Jack Daniels makes beer, go figure!) It wasn't a "Hot Legs and Wankers Trail" but they all can't be now can they. Oh yes has Full Metal Balls figured out yet that he went the wrong way around the lake? So much for that shortcutting bastard. hortcutting bastard.