Ithaca Hash House Harriers 750th Trail
“aka, it really does take 5 to orgy trail”
One Trick Dick
Thank You Come Again
It was a glorious sunny day with temperatures above freezing. A late March miracle? This Hound, as usual, had no clue where trail was so plugged the provided address into Waze and bravely followed the little voice telling me what to do. Panic was setting in when I spied Kickstand sitting on a cooler next to the road with a giant bag of pretzels. Praise Gispert. The little voice had not led me astray. OTD and Deer Near popped out of an SUV. Let the merry making commence.
I was forced to re-park my car to tighten up the lot since so many people would be showing up. Snort. OTD crashed 3 times on the same patch of ice. Half-mind. TYCA arrived after sitting in a wrong parking lot for who knows how long. Hash cash was exchanged, beers were drank, more beers were drank and we waited. And waited. And waited. It was with a heavy heart that we came to the conclusion that Ithaca was not coming to our 750th trail. TYCA and I resolved to represent the Hash as best we could. So we struck off into the wilderness on a glorious sunny day with trail beers in our hands since we had been warned that there were ZERO BNs on trail. Instead, our prizes were 750 mL bottles of alcohol. TYCA and I gallantly took turns leading trail.
This Hasher discovered a deer skeleton only minutes into trail. Deer Near could barely control her excitement. There were strange marks on trail resulting in some confusion and yelling for clarification. (Syracuse SOH4 had kindly set the trail for Ithaca and uses different markings.) There were F’s, x’s, R’s, O’s and too many damn Y’s. I came across a blue 750. What is this strange mark? After some digging, I found a 750mL bottle of margaritas. The pack quite happily drank the bottle and staggered off to continue our adventure. A song check resulted in TYCA declaring that he was a new hasher and didn’t know any songs. Mockery commenced. A week attempt at “Jesus can’t go hashing” and “They Ought to be Publicly Pissed On” satisfied Gispert that we were doing our part.
As trail progressed, the ever softening snow became challenging. One second you were standing on a nice patch of snow and the next one or both legs had sunk to knee depth. More mockery ensued. Lots of muttered cursing was coming from the general derection of a so-called Packin’ Penis.
We burst out onto a road to discover the second 750. This hasher dug and dug looking for the treasure, quit due to annoyance and cold hands and TYCA steps up and lifts it out of the hole. My Death Glare misfired and we all worked at drinking a rum concoction.
At the urging of the Hares, (probably more like nagging since the Hounds were quite content basking in the sun with our bottle of rum), the hounds were sent out to find trail. This hasher started up a hill following footprints in the snow. TYCA began to whine that if he followed the other set of prints leading downhill that he would have to walk up hill if it was false. This hasher pointed out the obvious that both of us were walking up a hill. The hares verbally abused poor TYCA and he started off on what was to be a false trail.
We entered into a dark, dark forest, something out of a Grimm fairy tale. And then details get fuzzy. Was it forest magic? Was it the combination of rum and tequila? Only Gispert knows. The pack ( does 4 hashers constitute a pack?) happened upon TYCA lying on the ground in a patch of sunlight. This hasher asked him if he was dead. His reply of “No, I’m working on my tan” earned a laugh from the group. The soused hounds had some issues finding trail, more fuzzy mammaries, abuse at TYCA for not counting at an “R” and then at the Hares for miscounting. We finally escaped the dark forest and found yet again another 750. This hasher found the champagne quickly and proceeded to struggle getting the top off. There was a discussion of what our first Ithaca Hash was to pass the time . I may have blacked out for while doing my own version of the Walking Dead. We arose at a glorious Hash View of Greek Peak. The sun was hot, we were hot. There may have been naked snow angels and dashing about in a meadow and flashing skiers coming down the hill. It’s spring. The fauns and woodland nymphs were celebrating Hash style.
After clothing was put back on, we wandered off and on-in to circle at Kicky’s car. Even more drinking ensued. Some hasher attempting to pee ended up sitting in a snow bank. Down-downs were happily accepted. TYCA picked up trail trash lying about the parking lot. It took all 5 of us to figure out the Hash Prayer. Not all of us would fit in Kicky’s car so Deer Near volunteered/was chosen (?) to stay behind. This Hasher may have taken a nap because miraculously with no mammaries was delivered to her car. We piled in our vehicles and went to pick up poor Dear Near. But alas, she was gone! We’d lost Dear Near! Were we in the right spot? Had she wandered off into the woods in a drunken stupor? We hoped that Kicky had snagged her so the caravan wandered down the hill to the ski lodge bar and grill. I’m still uncertain how she eventually got to the lodge.
Many moref fuzzy mammaries. PnP and TYCA got lost in the lodge coming back from the restrooms which resulted in a giggling fit about something or other. We ate, we hydrated. We considered loading TYCA onto a pair of skis to see what would happen. We tried to figure out what the giant dead animal was hanging on the wall. Deep stuff.
And then we departed
The Top 10 Moments from Ithaca’s 750th trail
10- Kicky and his GIANT bag of pretzel logs
9- Deer Near had a dead deer check and got her wish to have sex with a deer
8- Virgin Lay for Deer Near
7-OTD crashed 3 times in the same icey spot before Hash even started
6-750 mL bottle buried so well that PnP gave up looking for it
5-PnP had Muffin Tops courtesy of a too small sports bra
4-TYCA whining about being too new to know any songs. Also hill whining.
3-PnP and TYCA were FRB’s. The universe may have stopped spinning.
2- We lost Deer Near!!!
1- At the orgy, Kicky asked if the Brown One was in yet.