IH3 Trail #524: Flat Rock

Sun-day but no sun. Perfect outdoor day otherwise. Group convened at Flatrock, entrance to Plantations and Monkey Run. With PG and Mindy nipping at our heels, chasing us to find trail, Cocktail Frank, Mouthful of Clams (welcome back!), Just Dave, Turtle Whacks and Jiffy Lube ran in circles while hare extraordinaire (not Spike) stood in the center looking dizzy.

Off we tore, over hill, over dale through the plantations to the back-crack side of the Vet School where our tortuous tour of greenhouses mixed with the fresh odor of animals, reminded us of two general truths about hashing. 1) you will intimately tour an area you had not previously noticed before but thought you knew and 2) to interpret hare symbols is to be one with the hare.

Do I hear an “Om”?  Our hare liked Circles and Psi’s. The former, while much symbolized in our culture, became our warning sign to head to the nearest bush. Interpret as you wish. Down the east side of campus to the east hill rec way, up the hill, through the Maplewood Apartments, down a side street to a dead end. Ahhh.. the perfect setting for beer!  We knew it, we could feel it, we could …

But no. Our hare enjoyed the set up; the foreplay. And setting down the Psi which looked an awful like Xs and Ys (shake it up for chromosomes). He often found us staring at the symbol, second guessing our original decision to skip chalk talk as we gave him the one-raised eyebrow look of “what?”

So defying the very definition of a Dead End, we forged ahead, much to Cocktail Frank’s astonishment… “but it’s a dead end!”  Down the hill with electric wire, all entities danced around the creek. Mouthful fought valiantly to keep the thorns from grabbing him by beating them with a log. To no avail, they stuck his thumb, dragged him in the mud for a hash crash and then spit him out uphill. Which emptied us into “strawberry field” … a park with frisbee golf. Cool.

Then a clearing in the woods which can only mean, oh please, can it finally mean a BN?  Yes, the much revered letter of  the alphabet, “B”, has finally been used by our hare (not Spike). Even the sun came out for this glorious moment. Gawd bless him.

Toothy Lunker arrived!  Out of nowhere (or was it divine intervention?) she came bursting through the bush ready for a BN. And most deserved was she as trail was hard to follow since none of us half-minds could re-mark our path correctly. She was left to follow our footprints and any sign of skin or clothing hanging from thorns. Plus, did I mention our hare likes foreplay and forgot to carry his chalk?

Recess followed consumption and to the playground we went! Turtle Whacks ambitiously hung from a hand bar (while legs crossed) doing 10 pull ups. The rest of us opted for slides and tunnels. We wound  through Belle Sherman, back through campus, wildflower preserve, to the on-in. Where upon our eager RA met us. Master Baster (Bobbit) was prancing about looking a bit disappointed that he couldn’t find us earlier.

Cocktail Frank rewarded us with Ithaca Beer!  By then, a few of us we’re really hungry and thirsty that visions of spam with cheese whiz deep fried (better not to ask) was entertained before the chips and beer were pulled out. (Thank you CF.)  Baster led us through the ceremonious closing of the hash; however, after all the trail jerking, accusations and false accusations, it went nowhere so we all drank.

The end.
Jiffy Lube

P.S. This hash voted a thumbs up to a Dec. 30 (pre-new years eve) hash.