IH3 Trail #486

Subject: Ithaca Rehash 2006-07-16

Sunday was a beautiful, sunny, and humid day. Perfect for a hash. There was no designated hare, so Dances With Head brought flour, anticipating that a hare would be selected from those in attendance.

The Ithaca die-hard hounds trickled in, and immediately started working on a pitcher at the Fall Creek Saloon. The bar is was obviously dog-friendly, because Puker (aka Toby) had two other doggie friends to play with. After killing two pitcher of beer, the hashers though they had waited long enough for any stragglers to arrive.

We decided that we would have a tag team trail. The first hare would run until caught, or a beer stop was reached, and then a new hare would be selected. We drew lots (actually, I volunteered) to see who the first hare would be.

I (Ball Wrinkle) took off like a turbo-charged box turtle. I had left my trusty hound in the care of DWH, so I was travelling light. I didn’t want to be caught, so I zigged, and zagged my way through the streets and eventually arrived (uncaptured by the hounds) at the Chanticleer. I ordered a pitcher of their cheapest beer with the $7 I had in my pocket, and sat down to wait.

I didn’t have to wait long. The arrived shortly with my poor overheated dog in tow. The bar biatch wouldn’t let him stay inside in the A/C, so I retired to the outdoors to pamper my little 4-legged friend. Don’t worry, he was fine, just panting up a storm to keep cool.

The hounds finished the pitcher, and Lord Burpenstain was selected for the next leg. He headed down the street like a cool breeze. We wouldn’t see him for a while. He’s too fast for this pack. After waiting at least a full 30 seconds, we gave chase. We soon realized that we hadn’t taken note of the direction he headed, so we did a bit of extra checking. Damn! We mighta got him if we had just… Anyway, we found the scent, and made our way further from the start point. What the heck is going on here? We didn’t sign up for all this exercise, besides, those two pitchers at the start, plus one more were starting to take effect.

We got off trail, back-tracked, tried a new angle, and found a which-y-way. At this point, we knew we were pretty close to Castle Burpenstain, so we gambled all our drunken energy on one direction. BINGO! Lady Luck was on our side. We arrived at Castle Burpenstain, and after some double-talk from Lady Burpenstain about the whereabouts of the Lord, we spotted him. He had to make a beer run to the local Quicky-Mart for the beer stop.

So we chilled out with his neighbor Don?, and a pair of hyperactive Pit Bulls Bitches that Puker wanted NOTHING to do with. I thought they were cute, but Puker was Mr. Stuck Up.

After drinking a few Red Bull 16 OZers, DWH headed off to set the final leg.

Sorry DWH, but we didn’t follow your awesome trail. We just took the most direct path back to the Creeker.

Back at the Creeker, we were joined by a bobbit + reluctant virgin.

We sang to the hares (each other) and to the bobbit + reluctant virgin. The virgin ran off after hearing the singing. Not hash material I guess.

We consumed a few more beers, ate some munchies, and left for our homes.

The End