The day was like something out of a fairy tale. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the forest smelled of fresh dew and supple adventure! I along with Just Matt and Just Delana happily paid monsieur Spike, but we had a feeling that our investment would be well worth it. Soon we were joined by the gallant Just Chris, and then our very own Cocktail “Mothernature-Loving” Frank pulled up in his pimped out ride including a refrig-o-trunk which was keeping cool a delightful stock of delicious brewed beverages.
With our beverages mostly finished, the eager hares leapt into the welcoming woods and quickly found an extremely well-marked trail through an untouched wetland paradise. “On-On!” the hashers shouted over the singing of birds and the humming of bees. Suddenly, they heard a beautiful voice echo “On-On” in the distance. Soon, the regal Toothy Lunker appeared before the hashers to join them in their quest with her supernatural path-finding ability.
On we went. I was enjoying the view so much that I barely noticed when we came upon a crystal-clear stream. At this point, the striking Cocktail Frank forcefully declared that he was unsatisfied with the trail as it stood beyond this point. Ordering his gorgeous hashers to give him a five minute head start, he stormed across the river and scrambled up the other side to begin erasing his old marks and laying a new trail. Rather than argue with the determined hare, the hashers decided to strip down to enjoy the laughing, sweet-tasting water and soak in the sun with their finely-sculpted bodies.
They could have stayed there forever in perfect joy, but the hashers, eager to rejoin the handsome hare and find a more hoppy thirst-quencher, cut short their playful revelry to continue the hunt. Through majestic old-growth woods, down heart-stopping drop-offs, along a river teeming with jumping fish, and up an exhilarating three-story climb we finally learned that beer was near! The wily hare had dug out a cool, comfortable burrow where the hashers found him laying back and enjoying a cold one. We promptly joined him. There was much feasting, camaraderie, and of course, rejoicing.
On the hash went under sun and shade and over moss and fern with the hare back at the end of the pack. The pack flew through the woods, and before we knew it we were once again at the stream where Frank had left us once before. Fearing that the hash would end before he wanted it to, he once again bid us patience as he took off in a new direction laying trail with gusto. Fortunately, it was easy to be patient with the sun on our face and the succulent water before us. Like Greek works of art, the young, nubile bodies of the hashers, glistening with persperation, were once again washed by the massaging current.
The trail soared onward and the clever Cocktail treated his followers to turns and trails that highlighted the woodland’s natural flora and fauna. Finally coming out of the woods the hashers found themselves back at their point of origin, and their eyes already wide with the beauty they had said grew even wider as the hare invited them to help him ravage a cache of brews that seemed to appear out of nowhere. I myself chose the Ithaca Brewery’s mighty Ten to bathe by tongue in frothy goodness.
Circle was a joint effort of Toothy, Spike, and myself, and ended up ironically sharing many characteristics with our daring hare – it was short, sweet, full of beer, and hard to leave. Cocktail was punished for his stupendously shitty trail. Just Delana, Toothy and myself were berated for our rampant r*cism. Everyone except Just Matt was found to be guilty of FRB-ing or DFL-ing, but Matt did get to share a drink with Just Chris for embracing the natural beauty more physically than deemed necessary. Toothy called me out for not sharing my stick with her, a mistake I will never make again, and we admonished Cocktail for attempting to ruin our taste for PBR with his exotic selection of malty beverages. Finally, we decided not to assign a rehash for fear of driving our absent compatriots mad with envy, but I have since decided our story must be told so that Cocktail Frank’s legendary hash of Monkey Run serve as an example to us all. With that, the hash went in peace.
On-On
Mouthful Of Clam