ReHash #342

Hashers gathered at the start of the hash only to find the hares no where to be found. People were whining loudly as the hares finally showed up at 3:30 and gave lengthy instructions to the virgins. People got lost and some feel down. Luckily Ball Wrinkle’s dog "Puker" did not throw up on trail! After the run hashers indulged in alcohol and Butt Floss did a down down for that awful offence on trail!

On On

Hash #342 (to the best of my estimation; but if you know better, let me know) 3/11/2001 Hares: Hung Man and Inspector Speculum Start: Glenwood Pines On-In: Castaways

In attendance: Hung Man, Inspector Speculum, Butt Floss, Boob Tube, Half Monty, Extra Testicle, Ball Wrinkle, 7/16s, Releash Me, Hot Lips, Women There, Phil McCrackin, Country Cock, and Virgin ______. [let me know if I missed anyone, or if you know the virgin’s name]

They say that absence makes the mind grow feeble. Our hare(s) proved that dictum beautifully. After an absence of what seemed like several months, Hung Man made a return to the hash in the form of hare (this was actually his long-awaited Summer 2000 hash). In the meantime, he seems to have forgotten that car hashing is strictly verboten and that hashers don’t like to run long straight trails.

But I don’t want to be too harsh, because there was a nice little feature at the start just for late-arriving bastards such as myself (plus he’ll probably shoot out my tires with his nail gun). And, in fairness, Inspector did help him set trail, although I got the feeling he was an unwitting co-conspirator for most of it.

We gathered just north of Glenwood Pines on Rte. 89 and by the time I arrived, the pack was scouting out what would be revealed as a large backcheck back to the start. Which, like I said, was great for BLABS like me (Hung Man was kind enough to come clean and not try to coerce me into catching up to the pack). So, I had plenty of time to change shoes and compare head gear with Floss and Phil McCrackin (who was sporting the official McCrackin hat in all its green-with-a-white-pom-pom glory). Then it was time to grab the cursed FRB Award and join the others as they made their way back to the start and onto the real trail.

As luck would have it, after about 20 yards, I ran into Hot Lips, who you may recall is the rightful heir to the Giant Yellow Proboscis of Punishment, so I handed it off to him, and, unencumered, jogged along to the first check, just south of the Pines, at Glen Road (or something like that)(throughout the hash the Rod of Redemption was kindly taken up by a regularly changing cadre of hashers). Then we climbed straight on up this road for what seemed like an eternity. Along the way, Phil became sickened, or at least discouraged, enough to call it a day and headed back to his car. The rest of us applauded him for being the only sane one among us, and plodded on.

Around 15,000 feet, as the air started to get thin, we finally crested the peak and came upon another check. We were all too weak to scout it out, except for 7/16s who was proving that months of hard training do pay off. (For this, he would later be awarded the Pole of Pain, but not before decrying that he shouldn’t be considered an FRB when he was merely jogging along and the rest of the pack is such slow-running bastards. Interesting point, but no one bought it.).

>From this check, it was another 15 or 20 miles of straight running along Iroquois Rd. Again, 7/16s took the pole position as we shuffled along a mile or so behind him. A few of us were fortunate enough to catch him take a left onto Indian Creek Rd. This would come in handy when we ourselves made it to that same intersection to find a check. Hung Man, poor sap, made a feeble attempt to drag the pack up the hill, but most of us hung back (including his cohare Inspector, who, it was later confirmed, did point his penis in the direction Hung Man was trying to take us, but not much more). No, having seen 7/16s head down Indian Creek, we waited for Hung Man to return from his pathetic diversion and then headed down said road.

Halfway down the hill, we ran into another check, which was soon solved further downhill and (finally) into some shiggy. We ran around the woods for just a little while before coming back out behind the old hospital (which is next to the current hospital). Here, Releash Me took the opportunity to fling herself mightily at a momentarily distracted Inspector, who made quite a thud into the snow. We laughed, then carried on up a short hill, across a parking lot, and down a snow-covered hill to the beer check. Even though he had arrived several hours earlier, 7/16s had not finished all the beer, so we all partook and watched as the hash dogs (Toby, Hershey, and Nygelóapparently that’s the way it’s spelled) took turns taking dumps. I’ll spare you the details (for once). Hot Lips was so disgusted by this display that he took off into the woods and was not seen again (or he had something better to do).

We eventually headed back on trail, over the river (well, creek) and through the woods (I’m still not sure how the cunning hares autohashed this part) to another check and on down along the power lines to the old railroad trail and a "Y". Ahhh, we thought, it’s just a short jog to either the Pines or Hung Man’s from here. We headed toward Hung Man’s.

I was distracted by the weight of the Shaft of Sufferance on my shoulders so I didn’t even realize it until we were nearly at the Hangar Theater that we’d passed Hung’s house. Huh?!? Was he going to run us past his house, down to the road, and back up to his house? No, he assured me, we were simply running on past his house. "But there are no bars down that way," I protested. "Well, eventually there are." Oy.

Indeed we ran (well, shuffled) on and on until an ambush at the clearing past DeWitt Park. Floss and company tried to ambush us, that is, but their sad attempt at a giant snowball simply fell apart halfway down the slope and we were brutalized by the second best they hadóFloss dropped trow to show us his namesake. (Releash Me correctly pointed out that it was only a half-assed attempt.)

On up the hill we went, then down 96 to a check at the bridge. Our poor virgin (_______) headed up 79 while Hung Man tried to cajole us down under the bridge, but we all ignored him and his marks and ran across then cut over to Castaways. At this point we didn’t care if it was the On In or not. There was beer and we were tired and thirsty.

At the On In we were greeted by the non-hashing civilians Little Oral Annie and Vibrator (who as many of you know, ran out of batteries one night and will now forever be paying the price). She was a bit dismayed that she had come out to play and her husband had hightailed it back home. But she was kind enough to take some of us back to retrieve our cars before heading home herself (thanks again, Vibe!).

There was simply no good place to put this side story, but it must be told: the entire hash, Hershey stayed with us and several hashers took turns watching him. Noticeably absent was his master/meal ticket, Half Monty. Some recalled seeing him at the start, but he and Extra Testicle had never made it back to the start on the very first back check. We all assumed they took a little detour to the Pines and never made it out, so Hung Man headed back there to check. No sign of them, but when we got back to Castaways the two were sidled up to the bar eating pretzels and swapping tales like nothing had happened. Well, nothing except they had apparently run the entire trail on their own, having gotten lost early on. Floss maintained that it was just one long murky moment, and for this they would soon drink.

Actually, the circle was called to order pretty quickly and ceremonies began. The hares drank for their death-march. Virgin _____ was properly welcomed, and Hung Man drank again for making him come. ET and Half Monty drank for their extended murky moment. Dog owners Ball Wrinkle, Half Monty, and Releash Me drank. WT and Boob Tube drank for "comes lately." Floss, Boob Tube, and Inspector drank for hash crashes. 7/16s drank for FRBing (he was also given the award, of course, and cuffed by Inspector in the leg clamp, which would have made a lovely FRB Award as well).

The big hash weekend was discussed and it turns out 7/16s may have a place for us near the Nature Center. If anyone has thoughts on it, make them heard. It’ll soon be time to start meeting to plan this thing: which weekend, t-shirts and other goodies, food and beer, runs and activities, water hookups, etc.

See y’all next time. On On