Most of the early arrivers gossiped about the Hashing article in the newest "Run America" magazine. It was a good description of what we do and why we do it. Unfortunately, it was focussed on the heathens from the other coast. It was not long before we asked why our evil media-slut (that would be you HardDrive) had failed to get our hash included in this article and more importantly, why our RedDress pictures weren't on the cover of this magazine. Hmmm. Sounds like a drinking offense, perhaps even a Hash-IT. If I were you HardDrive, I would be scarce for a while.
At last the hares arrived and bearing one big huk'n gift - a tapped keg
of Octoberfest beer. Yes! (Imagine wild arm actions here) - refocused the
mob on what it was really here to do, DRINK BEER. It was just the thing to warm
our souls and after the first couple of mugs, damned if the sun didn't break
through and start to warm the earth around us as well. Good beer can do
magic, if you truly believe. Frankly, it was too bad that we had to start the
run itself. Most would have preferred to just sit in this gorgeous setting
and quietly slurp away the hours. But duty calls and so 'Ather Abraham was
sung.
Note: in Byte's absence we decreed that Beezer was a Ho. You should also
be aware that MissingLink did not raise an objection to this declaration.
Hmmm.
Trail headed out of the lot and to the left. MissingLink crossed the
road (because he can) and went right. Duh. The pack kindly waved good-bye to
this wacked-out hash-veteran as they headed down a lovely paved path full of
rolling hills and ankle-wrenching switchbacks. It wasn't long before we
headed off-road to the first (and only) water crossing. The gracious hares had
provided a huge tree that was to be used as a bridge across the water.
However, after *69 crossed this bridge - straddling the log and
scootching forward - it was just too wet and slippery for the rest of us to use.
So, it was into the drink we went.
Back on solid ground, it was a quick jaunt through knee-destroying ruts
and shoe sucking mud to a puzzling check not more than 100 yards from where
we started. Damn hares. Just as HawaiianPuke and Dr. Jekyll started their
search for true trail up along the road, they met an aged couple out for a
stroll. After repeated attempts to communicate (in the interest of Hash PR,
which we will really need if we ever run in this area again), the couple finally
understood that we were (1) out for a run, (2) part of a group, and (3) following a trail. However, they could not fathom that our group would
want to run through the woods, mud, water, etc. They offered plenty of advice on
where HP and DJ could run, but they couldn't comprehend that these boys had no
clue where they were running to. Finally they left shaking their heads
(slowly, they were old). Hearing whistles, HP and DJ headed up the road to find
PoopDeck at the next intersection. A quick jaunt around a mini-lake this
mini-pack found FullMetalBalls wandering in circles looking for flour.
After "hours" of searching, a the micro-mini hare's arrow was finally
espied by PoopDeck. PD led us into a large field, through a parking lot, and
then back to where we entered the field. One big loop - damn hares. Up ahead
we espied MissingLink and started a very long section of road running
straight to the DualAirBag's Building. (She is a famous babe!). Trail looped around the building (Beezer took a few moments for a dip in the lake) and then a
water/beer stop.
From the beer stop there was a brief stint of road running and then we
were treated to a rare sight - Fall/Winter Planting. As the FRBs stumbled
down a little hillside, FT mis-stepped and planted his face deep into the dirt,
wiping out a small forest in the process. The things people will do to
get into the trash. After negotiating the next tricky little check and tossing Trina over a barbed-wire fence, we eventually met-up with PussyInAHat who was milling about. It was here that the true hashing-nature of PIAH was revealed:
she turned and asked the newly arrived FRBs which way was true trail. Hmmm.
We just got here and PIAH has been wandering loose for quite some time.
Yep, makes no sense to me either. We ran away and found the Walker/Runner
split. The runner trail wandered through some briars ending up on a road-curb
in search of a road. The clever hares laid flour along the curb which
switched-back on itself in several places making for an enjoyable jaunt until it
dumped us out onto some street. From there is was a fairly straight shot into
the finish, where we were greeted with the smell of roasting Bratwurst and
assorted other sausages, real German Potato salad (from Wu Garden Grocery?),
cold Hot & Soft Pretzels and grand Octoberfest Beer. Oh yes, there was
also great polka music. I have no idea where the Walker trail went.
DOWN-DOWNS
It took a long time for the walkers to make it in to the finish. Since it
appears that ThreeTimesALady is the only one who can cipher who are the
Virgins, Returners, Anniversarians, etc, we waited and waited and waited. (He
was walking with his young-un.) This is not all bad as it gave us more
time to drink beer. Finally the hares drank. Then the VIRGINS: Donna Lewis, John Sayor. Erika Keenan had also signed in as a virgin, but having failed the
'hymen-test' FMB declared her an imposter. VIOLATION! The RETURNERS included Rosemary Hogan. The lone VISITOR: Andy Harrah. There were only two ANNIVERSARIES:
Spreadsheets (175) and PoopDeck (235).
Thankfully, HandHeldUnit was given a new and permanent name -
PhoneSachs. Peter Koltay was also monikered this day - Dicksickle.
Then the VIOLATORS. There were few, but most were particularly heinous:
Hares (micro-mini hare's arrows); PussyInAHat (stupidity); Trina
(Environmental); FrenchToasted (premature planting - it isn't spring yet); BiteMeElmo and *69 (whining about the trash); Erika Keenan (posing as a virgin); 3XsALady (mis-Erections); Sheets (violating, but refusing to discuss it); OllieNorth
(sucking up to the Scribe); EdTaylor (because it is fun to talk southern);
DrJekyll (because the pack is insanely jealous of his outstanding fashion
sense and in particular of his PumpkinHead Hat); and worst of all FMB (for
wanting to see his dead mother's vagina!). As you can imagine, FMB won the hash-it hands down. He did have some competition: BiteMeElmo (borrowing a whistle from a virgin so she would not have to drink); *69 (for squealing on BME - Linda Trippish); EdTaylor (self nominated so he could drink again); Hares (micro-mini hare's arrows). There were announcements and a whistle check. We tried to move through these last few items quickly as a maintenance dude from the Marriott Hotel (whose parking lot we hashed through) swung by and declining a beer stated that we had one hour to clean-up the mess we left or he would call the pole-ice. You see, people pay $100K for weddings and such to be held at the hotel and we
can't just go messing it up that that. Let's see how Hash Logic serves us in
this situation. We could go over and try to clean up the hash or, we could
clear out of the area before the hour is up. Guess which we chose.
And remember.
Some people are only alive because it is illegal to kill.
Dr. Jekyll