IH3 Trail #644 StuporBowel: Where O Where Were You Last Week?

Why did you make us hash all alone?

One sunny Superbowl Sunday, a small but dedicated band of half-minds gathered at about 1:69PM at the Lady Bug Pub for another sh*tty trail. Spermholio showed up early to start testing the suds, while Just Lisa emerged from the shadows for the first time since summer to rejoin the pack. After about 5 minutes wondering when Floss would show — his truck appeared! And then disappeared! And then reappeared! And drove off again! After waiting about 5 more minutes, it was fairly clear we’d have no one else to join us, so we all went outside and hoped that Floss would figure out we hadn’t left yet. (Figures that there’s 25 wankers out when the Superbowel weather is 25° and snowy, but there’s 8 half-minds out when it’s 40° and balmy…)

Hares UFO, Bedside, and co-conspirator Climbin’ showed us the marks, and off we went — southward down W. Seneca Road, right at the intersection, and a check at the dump spot, which contained a veritable Superbowl feast: two stomped skunks, one disemboweled deer, a possum pancake, and a mysterious flayed quadruped. Also two dozen bottles of old perfume. While Just Lisa started down the road, Hare Bedside, being lazy, started back, cluing us in on a certain R17. Hare Climbin’ was not pleased, and let us know about it for the next 5 minutes.

Trail continued across the road and into the corn field, taking us a roundabout way to the first BN at the barn across from the Pub. Here was game one: get a miniature football into the Chicken Coop for fun and prizes. Floss was bumbling and inept, Spermholio’s form was good but yielded little, yours truly’s novel approach of ‘hiking’ the ball did no good, UFO and Bedside came close, Climbin’ threw like a girl, and Just Lisa got one in — but bounced out again. So we laughed and drank and thought about shortcutting to the Pub.

But the pack would have none of it! Trail picked up down the road a piece and hung a right down Burr Road. A few of us sniffed out trail but found dead ends, and the hares hinted that True Trail was on W. Seneca going towards town. So on-down we went, then taking a left, going north into uncharted cornfields. Large, vast expanses of wind-swept, muddy, shiggy cornfields. After zigging and zagging, attempting to find trail for upwards of 5 minutes, Climbin’ helped us pick up trail HEADing north, clear across a solid 3/4 mile of corn and onto farm-track. A few Y’s were negotiated, with true trail going down into a little drainage pond, nestled amongst some red pines — with a BN!!!

The BN was well-placed, as Lisa and Y.T. looked for damn near 5 minutes until Climbin’ showed up to help. Again. When Bedside, Floss and Spermholio rolled up, we were shown an ingenious — for a hare — hiding place underneath some leaves. What could it be?!? Glogg! Glorious glogg! And beer! Cheap hash beer — Pennsylvania’s Best! (A brand I’ve not heard of, but costs about $10 for a 30-rack, perfect for half-minds)

After a good 5 minutes’ worth of a story in which Bedside couldn’t tell the difference between pool or golf, we packed up and continued on. True trail went back southwest towards the treeline, going through a small mudbog, up a hill, and near the shiggy. Just when the pack was stretching out and coming up on a critical check, bad trail hound Lulu decided to disappear into the shiggy. While Lisa, Spermholi and Y.T. worked on songs to sing, ig-noble hare Climbin’ went back in a futile attempt to find Lulu. A good 5 minutes passed in waiting, but eventually we started back as the sun started to set.

We made it back to familiar territory with some light left, for the 3rd BN and the final round of games — the football cock toss! While the nominal object is to shoot a ball through a hoop, the game is made much more entertaining with a Baster-crotch to aim for. Lisa won, with a well-aimed shot that nipped the tip. Spermholio hit the boob, Floss’ aim was about as good as an Imperial Storm-trooper, UFO got it through the hoop, and Bedside got a little leg. Briefly inside the old shed for 5 minutes, we decided to adjourn to the Pub for circle and chow.

And what chow there was! Boy, what a feast — a huge pile of nachos, a big salad, chips and really good spinach dip, and three, count ’em, three quiche. Quiches? Quix? Whatever, they were good. Floss took a nice, big package out… of his truck, and brought it inside. As down-downs were passed around for BLEAB, BLAB (Floss, you wanker), FRB, DFL, blatantly r*cist chatter (pretty much everyone), we drank — and then what ho! Look at this! MUGS! WE HAVE MUGS! And it was good. Our mugs duly christened, we also welcomed Bobbitt Mr. Potato Head, who wasted no time in checking out his new mug, and immediately spilling half his down-down onto the floor. And we laughed for 5 minutes.

Thanks again to UFO, Bedside, and Climbin’ for setting a truly deserving and sh*tty trail… (and thanks once more for the eggs and quiche!)

On-on-to-Virgil
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~MB