Urgent bulletin to all of those who managed to make both last week's and this week's hashes: By successfully navigating unharmed through the concrete jungle, surviving extended travel periods without food and water, and arriving at the HashStart despite the "erections" supplied by the Hares, you have earned the EagleScout merit badge for Survival Training. (To the more feminine members of our hash, I have no idea what the GirlScout equivalent of this award would be-perhaps the coveted Petticoat PineForest Pin?) In case you are really dense, let me put it another way: It was another long-assed journey into the bowels of the Virginia countryside for this week's Hash. The drive down was made even more exciting by the way-bizzare-o path BlankCheck used to get hashers to and from the Moose Lodge. It was an omen of things to come!

It was a small, but motely crew that congregated at the Moose Lodge. Special thanks must go to BlankCheck and the Moose Elders for allowing us access to their facilities. As it turns out, the Elders allowed us to use their site FREE OF CHARGE! All BlankCheck had to do was write a letter (on MVH3 letterhead stationary; this I want to see.) that the MooseElders could post as evidence of their community service. Now there is some serious irony: hosting a hash DownDown as means to gain community service points. Way-mondo-butt-funny.

After lots of kibitzing the hares were off. What HO!? What evil is this? HarePiece RutRu is haring without any flour! "Now that just won't do. There will retribution!" cried the RA just before we started 'Ather Abraham'. There were several feeble attempts to call FMB a Ho during the Hash Aerobics. But it turns out that this phrase is too difficult to yell out in the middle of heaving and ho-ing. I still think, Ice-da-Bitch is a much better theme since we are being led by women (no offense FMB, its just that you volunteer to be the woman so often I usually think of you like that. Nice butt!) Soon the pack was off, uphill and to a check. Without a second thought QuickDrawers shortcut and caught-up with Link and ContemptOfCourt. (Fun Hasher Fact: QuickDrawers has a real superstition about long pieces of chalk jinxing him into getting lost on trail.). The rest of the pack trailed along at a reasonable pace until we all congregated at the bottom of a big hill. CunningRunt, Link, some new kid, and BushMaster (sans PI protection-FOOL) were stumped. Where did the trail go? Flour went straight to here and stopped. Hmmm. It is a BlankCheck trail so we had better go back to the last check and look again, and again, and again. Finally Wilburr toots his duckcaller and there is the trail, off to the left, quite removed from any previous trail flour.

'Twas a quick lope down the road and into the woods from hell. Trail markings led right up to the woods and then abruptly stopped. After another 15 minutes of scouring of the area, a smidgen of flour was found back behind the hare's arrow that led us into a new section of woods. From here it seemed like an eternity of run 15 feet, stop, search for flour; run 15 feet, stop, search for flour, run 15 fieet, stop, search for flour. At last, the trail emerged into a townhouse development, down and up two big hills, and then into another BlankCheck check. The FRBs immediately found flour heading down a road by a school. That should have been a sign, but no one paid it any attention, we had flour. Following the flour on the right, the FRBs headed off at break-neck speed-BlankCheck's neck that is-only to run out of flour by the next intersection. The pack eventually reformed and still the FRBs could not find any indication of where to head next. Finally HardDrive looked down at his feet and realized he was standing on a BT. The BT was buried deep in the weeds on the other side of the street from all the other marks. Argh!

A quick reversal, some chiding from the locals (some lame argument about private property), and we emerged from the woods into another BlankCheckism: an abrupt ending of trail flour! After milling about searching for flour in every conceivable direction, the pack was hungry for blood. Even the mild-mannered StainedSheets was beginning to get irked. At last a dollop of flour was found. It was located behind an electrical transformer, under a bush, and behind a pile of leaves. Nothing like an obvious trail mark to help the day go by a little faster.

The pack ambled slowly down the road, praying that this was the right direction. You see, there were no other marks. The pack was running blind. Argh. At the next major intersection an itsy-bitsy little hare's arrow led the pack across the road to an itsy-bitsy check. For the upcomming BC run, I am bringing a magnifying glass.

After some serious FRB checking, trail was found heading down the road. A short sprint later Wilburr stumbled over a lovely woman's jersey and promptly awarded it to Dr. Jekyll for racing. Being a good sport, DJ donned the apparel-despite the fact the he was NOT racing, just recovering from one heck of a BT. Because there were so many jealous glares and snide comments as DJ stumbled about so wonderfully bedecked, you shouldn't be surprised to see the jersey again in the near future. Too bad HawaiianPuke was not around, it is his type of clothing.

Trail crossed back over the road and into some devilish woods where Wilburr acted like some possessed HashHound. No matter how obscure the trail markings, Wilburr was always right there as the lead FRB tooting away on the duckcaller. It was also during this little tour of the Virginia country side morasses that BushMaster was heard actually cursing the hares: "Those #!@*&$# hares. They told me there was no water, no PI, no briars. " while standing in a swamp filled with PI. Gotta love those brainiac doctor-types now don't you.

At last the pack emerged into a ball field and a "BeerNear". And there, up ahead, were 3 beers and a water bottle; no trail flour, just three beers and water. The crowd was starting to get angry. Its one thing to make them work to find trail, it is another to tease them with "BeerNear". After circling the field, true trail and the finish were found at the other end of the ball field. The pack wandered in while the hares, who had been watching the ball field fiasco from the comfort of the pavilion, just chuckled.

DOWN-DOWNs After much drinking it was noted that CheapSlut and Loan Shark had both run the "Race For The Cure" earlier in the morning. We are quite the discerning group as we ciphered this because the boys had not taken their race numbers off the front of their jerseys. I'm not sure who is the bigger set of idiots here, the boys for not removing the numbers or the pack for not seeing them sooner.

Then the entire hash was "treated" to a special vocal rendition (I hesitate to call it singing) by The Three Amigos and their Pips. QuickDrawers, MissingLink and Wilburr wanted to practice a new song that they are going to perform as part of a skit at an upcoming hash event. The song, When the End of the Month Rolls Around, struck a particular chord with a group of visiting boys off to the side. These tone-deaf Pips immediately started harmonizing. Some of them even shook their booty. We can't be sure if they were white-men dancing or if they just had ants in their pants. Either way, it was entertaining...if you weren't a woman. At last, the hares drank, then drank again, and then I believe, drank again. You know, it really isn't any fun with hares like BC who like to drink so much. At least RutRo looked like she was suffering and whining (BlankCheck told me I didn't have to carry flour. And I'll bet he told you, You can't get pregnant the first time. too.)

The Visitors included Chuck Chiapetti (let's see, what will his hash name be? Can you say ChiaPet?) and Rectal Ripper. The Returners included HeatSeekingMoistureMissile, Cunning Runt and a handful of others I couldn't see. The Anniversarians were: HeatSeekingMoistureMissile (5), Joe Budzinski (5, with a shirt that said, Texas Style Mother F***er. What the heck does that mean? Either way, it is scary.); YesDear (100 and who whined about inheriting two cases of Old Milwaukee-Fun Hasher Fact: Ole Willwaulkee is Steamer's favorite beer. I'm so sorry Steamer.); PudKnocker (155, who also received his 150 headband that was somehow overlooked at the AGM. Bad FMB -someone needs to spank him.). About this time, we noticed that DirtyHairy and MudBuns were playing Titsies. DH had stuffed some bizarre black plastic thing down MB's running top and was tugging on it/breaking it off. Some things just should not leave the bedroom. Anyway, MB was really enjoying this and some hashers were jealous, so DH & MB were brought forth to demonstrate or drink. They opted to drink. MB has the horse tattoo across her back which brought forth calls for anyone with a tattoo to also drink. *69 marched forward. There were several calls that no one could see her tattoo, so she exposed her cheek and the *69 tattoo. WooHoo.

At last, the violations: HollowPoint (doesn't know a hare's arrow from a hole in the ground); CheapSlut & LoanShark (racing emblems on hash wear); NunKnocker (getting a history lesson on trail from a local. It seems George Washington marched right where we ran. No kidding!); 3XsALady (using nerd names); PhysicalTerrorist (blurting out a nerd name right in the middle of the downdowns); BushMaster (not bringing his lovely bride to their apparent last hash-off to South Carolina-and for believing the hares when they said no water, PI, briars etc and changing out of his PI protection tights); RutRo (and thereby BlankCheck, not carrying flour); Maria (doing pre-hash aerobics in the parking lot of the MooseLodge where she could have caused one of the leering Elders to have a heart attack); and finally the Hares again (FashionStatement- matching panties).

Then, two namings! First, NunKnocker presented a worthy story for keeping his name: He went to catholic school and you take it from there. Damn fine story: short, sweet, lets your imagination run wild. He kept his name. Poor Maria did not fare as well. Despite many truly obnoxious names, her new hash moniker will be forevermore and throughout the world of hashing, BITE ME ELMO. And guess what, no controversy with this naming!

The hashing gods were with us this day as the Hash-it appeared and it wanted to speak. First nominated was the current owner, CunningRunt, as it should be. Next nominated were the hares for no flour and for a truly mucked-up set of directions for the walkers. By a unanimous voice vote, the Hash-It went to the HarePiece, RutRo.

Sadly, the end of the downdowns came with identifying the tweeterless: RutRo (and thereby BlankCheck); BiteMeElmo, 3XsALady, Joe (F***MeTexasStyle or something like that), HeatSeekingMoistureMissile and some visitor man (who caught the eye of FMB, again declaring he would be the woman). And with that, my work here is done.

The First Rule of Holes: When you find you are in one, STOP DIGGING!