IH3 Trail #476

When I awoke Sunday morning I was beginning to feel rather strange. Was it the catfish burrito I had eaten on Saturday? No… Was it the somewhat irregular sleep pattern of the last week? I don’t think that was it… Oh, it had been two weeks since I mixed drinking and running, and I was beginning to experience withdrawal symptoms… Once I determined the source of my maladies, I headed out to the Finger Lakes National Forest in search of a surefire way to develop, and then quench thirst.

From the moment I arrived I knew this was to be a good hash. There were many hashers (Hound Whore and Butt Floss, our hares, LOA, Lick My Nipple, Pippi Schlongstocking, Cocksmith, and Country Cock, hashers, as well as PP and Dances, non-hashing wankers) gathered around a couple 6 packs of GOOD BEER!!! As I sipped part of part of a Cascazilla, Spike arrived, as did UFO and Bedside Pole Dancer, complete with adhesive hearts to celebrate this valentine’s hash. Also there were Arlo, Max, and Indy (well, I think that is his name, UFO and BPDs dog…).

After a short chalk talk from Floss we were off to find trail. Pippi and I went looking down a rather obvious trail, and saw no marks for a while, so we turned around… Upon arriving back at the start Floss told us we should have seen marks down there, so off we went again, but this time we were called back by the On-Ons from the other direction. We hashed down the road, across the field and through some shiggy. After a while I noticed that Pippi, CC, Arlo, Max, and I were all alone. I could hear no on-ons from the rest of the pack. It had been a while since we had seen a check… Then we found one. There was no beer at this check so we were anxious to find the trail, but we were one hasher (and several brain cells) short. And so we waited…

…

…

"Is that Spike coming down the trail? "
"Hey Spike, get your ass over here, so we can hunt beer!"
"No don’t start walking you wanker!"

…

…

When Spike and Csmith arrived at the check, we took off again in search of flower and koolaid, in hopes that the next check would bring sweet nectar. And it did. More good beer, and assorted junk food; after a short moment of panic, we found the bottle opener our hares had left for us. While we drank and wondered what had become of the rest of the pack, three snowmobiles went roaring down the trail. None of them carrying a hasher… What’s the matter? Couldn’t any of you wankers thumb a ride to the beer? When the pack arrived, more beer was had, and Floss loaned me his gloves, as I was getting wicked cold (thanks!).

Then off we went again, in search of more beer, fearing that it might be a while, as our hares hinted that this hash was a long one… Once again the pack got quite spread out as we hashed all over the beautiful forest. While CC and I were hanging at a check, a chocolate lab came out of the woods. Was this dog Hershey? We pondered the possibilities as we awaited more half minds so we could continue our quest for beer. As more hashers came into the check, we developed critical hash mass (4 hashers and 2 dogs), and we were off to find beer. Beer was shortly found. At this hash rest the blasphemous christian hash in Texas was discussed. We decided that it was a pretty cool trick to turn water into wine, and this Jesus guy was alright, but Hound Whore was better, as he turns water (and a few other things) into BEER, and some damn fine beer I might add… Further discussion of the identity of the mystery lab took place as this dog looked like Hershey, but was not barking.

And then, it happened.

Bedside kissed LOA’s tits!

Well, it was a Hershey’s kiss thrown at her, but I got your attention, didn’t I? Then it all became clear. This dog was, in fact, Hershey. The barking had begun. Many hashers realized that we were close to the start of the hash at this point, and off we went, looking for the On-In, and hopefully 1/2 Monty… Well, we did find the On-In, and Half Monty, as well as the very nice fire our Bobbitt had built for us. But we decided to put this fire our, and move the On-In to Beside and UFO’s place, since it was both warm, and close.

Floss ran circle, and many a down-down was doled out; everybody got at least one, but Hound Whore got many, as a hash style going away present. Awards were handed out, all to .5 Monty I believe, for Bobbitt, and "Who Said Head?" Lick My Nipple got an up-up for surviving another decade. Weenies were grilled, and a good time was had by all. At some point circle was broken.

Have a nice time at Ithaca West Hound Whore, and Lick My Nipple!

On-On,
Bürpenstain