ReHash #362

So…you wanted a timely rehash,–well here it is!

It was a golden day in Ithaca, especially for December, sunny and warm–a perfect day for hashing.

And so,, the hashers gathered. This time we met at the Plantations.

Somewhat surprisingly, the hares were already back from setting trail when the first hounds arrived.

We would later find out why they got done setting trail so fast. Anyway, no virgins today, but plenty of veterans including Monty, BW, McCracken and their respective dogs, Forest Hump, Spike, Inspector, Mr. Stiffy, the hares, DWH and Cracker Whacker, Just Jack and our token harrierette, LOA (minus Butt Floss!).

After the usual waiting period, off we went to find flour.. And we searched…. and we searched…..and then we searched some more.

After a while we just decided to follow the hares, but they did not seem to know where the flour was either.

All in all it was an exceptionally shitty trail.

We wandered around the plantations for awhile, and just before the trail went into the creek, we found it….BEER.

And life was good again.

Then off and running some more, over to Beebe Lake.

And perhaps around it… but which side did the flour go around?

Hard to decide. Half the pack went one way, and the other half went the opposite way. Quite surprisingly, we all ended up at the same place, where thankfully we found more BEER. And life was good again.

And the hares lack of proper flour placement was ALMOST forgotten.

And then we were on trail once more.

This time the hares admitted they ran out of flour, but cleverly made trail markings with some porn photos they just happened to have on hand. Half Monty became Full Monty on the spot, and the dogs went all crazy, licking each other into a frenzy. But. alas, the porn trail suddenly ended. So did the flour.

Fortunately we knew our way back to the cars, although we all returned by different routes.

Some said true trail went through the creek, others used the bridge.

The ON-IN was had at Flat Rocks. The dogs made a little clearing in the brush by fighting over a carcass that washed up on shore, while the hashers downed chips and salsa.

Hershey won the fight, and got to eat the slimy carcass.

Many down downs followed.

First the hares drank for such a shitty trail and for skimping on flour.

Little Oral Annie and Mr. S were awarded Hash Mugs for achieving the milestone of 25 runs. (Thanks for keeping count, Phil!)

Forest Hump drank out of his new shoes,

Mr. S for cumming lately, and other accusations were made, too numerous to remember.

Then we went down town to Castaways, for some pitchers and grub. We almost recruited the cute bartender into joining the hash, and made some local dude chug just for being there, while we serenaded him with a down down. I think we went home after that.

Suddenly I woke up and we were back in Syracuse, and Forest was kicking me out of his car. Thanks for driving, Forest.

ON-ON Mr. Stiffy