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Ok. Heres a Rehash:
I drove to Ithaca. It was fucking 9 degrees out. Trail sucked. Trail beer sucked harder. We named Head to Toe in Utero. Party rocked. I didn't get laid. I got drunk. Floss blew me off for breakfast (read that however you wish). I drove home.
The end.
Now sign up wanker.
Piggys good!
Sun, 7 Feb 2010 13:02:08 -0500
a list (or two):
Hares: Hot Lips and Just Jen
Hounds:
Butt Floss
Head to Toe in Utero
Porcelain Goddess
Master Baster
Jiffy Lube
UFO
Bedside Poledancer
Always a Bridesmaid ( with FRB and Hailey in tow)
Glasterbator
Ivan Cornejo - Virgin
AssSquash
Just Betsey
Some thoughts (incomplete and fragmented as they may be):
started off with a fire and some warming hot chocolate
three virgins showed up but only one stayed
and one had even bailed from a hash before
(clearly there are some hashers who have difficulties with virgins)
off to find trail with warnings that it may be more than three hash marks to a false trail (oh, virgin hares)
baster finds the on-in trail!
and the correct trail is found
some worries about a true hound and the road but soon we're in the shiggy
well and truly in the shiggy with a butt slide down a steep slope
frb finds an on-on ball found, later used by baster to ward off ninjas
found an "ice rink" at a hash rest and lost ufo and bedside
time to spread out and seek trail
baster managed to find another wrong trail - down an icy slope
off on trail again to another hash check
notice the trail up an icy slope that baster found before - one false trail eliminated
find true trail and follow to a stream
meander along the stream, trying to avoid wet feet
have to go through a cuvlert - wet feet all around! (except for one among us who goes up and over)
follow the stream down to a crossing point
no wet feet here as we cross on ice
along a fence on the edge of a cliff and across a mini chasm we go
over or under the fence, through the cabins and down the stairs
watch out for a hash crash
down the beach to the pier
but, wait, where's the beer?
THOSE MOTHERBURGERS - they stole our beer
we make sad faces for the record
to add insult to injury a drizzly cold rain begins
a clear trail back to where beer awaits
(some among us choosing a more direct route)
beer and hot chocolate upon arrival
hot dogs arrive shortly, delivered by hot lip's wife
(floss had to call her as hot lips was ashamed that he forgot the hot dogs)
time for circle!
down-downs all around, some notables following
we had to punish the hares for a truly shitty trail
we had a virgin among us, brought by glasterbastor
he was prepped on the car ride to the hash but couldn't get glasterbator's name right
ufo and bedside returned for circle and some down-downs (bobbitts!)
including a side down-down in celebration of a birthday and a down-down for r*cism
there were new shoes to be christened
cums-latelys to be welcomed back
tech on trail, even if for the benefit of the hash, needed to be punished
new hair? what's up with all these changes...
pg received "who said head" award for being appropriately decked out in purple
the hash went in peace
and the hash got a piece
--Just Betsey
Date: Sun, 16 May 2010 17:23:50 -0700 (PDT)
Wow!!! What a game!!! Oh...wait...this is supposed to be a rehash of the hash!!
Well...what can I say??? Another AWESOME....FREEZE YOUR F'IN ARSE OF HASH SET BY OUR CRAZY, LOVING LESBOS!!!
This trail, as all trails set by UFO and Bedside Poledancer started on a cold, wind blowing through to your bones, winter day. But...there was a fire and BEER at the start!!!
Living the closest to where trail started....Shocker/Saftey Dog and I were the last to arrive...and hence...the warmest at the start of trail. hehehe
Lets see if my memory works (this is your cue to help out Spike and others...)
In attendance were:
PG
Baster
Bridesmaid
Jiffy Lube
MOW
Crimes
Just Jen (for now...snicker)
Just Betsy
Hot Lips
Just Peter
As is usual with our wonderful lesbos...this trail was going to be both short...and fun!
It started with a football throwing contest to see who could toss it the farthest. Miraculously, Floss heaved the oblong object the farthest for the guys. (You wussies!!! You let a barely healed broken wrist out-throw you! lol) Just Betsy won for the gals. No doubt her strong arm comes from delivery numerous punches to Floss at every opportunity....
Then...we were off!!!
Across the frozen pond that we were just tossing balls on....oooohhh...that sounds kinky! :o)
Nope...false trail!
Ahh...through the woods an on to Burdick Hill road...for a good long ways too! What the hell!!! I thought these gals set SHORT trails!!! lol Well....at least I had the pleasure of getting to know Just Jen a little more as we trotted along together up the road. Huh...a hasher with brains..and cute to boot! Who'da thunk it?
What's this??? A long a** backcheck!!! Not fair!!! lol
Back we went, down to a side road and into a field... We went through some shiggy and came to a circle check that was marked off to the left. No...that's not the way says Bedside...I know it goes this way... And so...we lemmings followed the hare. Seemed to make sense...
WRONG!!!! Silly hare doesn't know her own trail!!! And we trust her with needles and such??? Oh my!
We give up and go back to where the trail was marked and eventually catch up to the pack and a BEER NEAR!!! Whew! We were worried. We had some very yummy girly drinks and BEER. And...the girls all decided to go off and have a "pee-cicle" contest. No pictures allowed! Darn! How are we supposed to know who won???
Trail took off again up along the fence line and parallel to Seneca Rd. We then crossed the road and came up to the barn across from the gals house....BEER NEAR!!!!
And...another game!!! WOOT!!! This time we had to throw footballs into a bucket. Challenging for cold fingers. Even more challenging to keep the footballs away from Shocker/Safety Dog!!! lol I don't remember who won this one...and...it doesn't really matter...because it wasn't ME!!! lmao! But, it sure was fun!!!
Off we went again. But...but...but...the house is right over here! Why are we running away from it??? Well, some did...and others were smarter knowing that the trail, like always, would end in the cool little hunting shack out behind the house. And so...there I went...
Ahhhhhh........warmth...........and..........BEER!!!!
Once folks arrived...before and after going back to the start for cars...we held circle.
The hares were punished for such a sh*tty...no fun at all....trail. Others drank for the usual infractions. Game winners were given prizes and made to drink. Just Betsy even posed for a picture with Floss and didn't punch him till afterwards. Amongst the down-downs and songs we often spoke of testicles and such and Just Jen pointed out that we should really just refer to them as "nads" because both men and women have them and therefore can drink together in non-sexist offenses. Really??? Sounds pretty silly to us.... Just Jen....get the f*ck out!!! We think it's high time you got named!!! (With any luck...she won't suffer the fate of Always a Bridesmaid and made to leave circle for the next 20 hashes....)
Upon returning....and given that she hales from Indiana, Just Jen became Hoosier Naddy!!! I must admit....it's one of our better namings with a good story in awhile. Well, since the first of the Screw Year hash any way. ;-)
Circle ended and we all went inside the house for warmth and a most awesome superbowl party put on by UFO and Bedside Poledancer.
Thanks so much gals!!!! Sorry it took forever to recant the fun!!!
on-on!
Floss
Date: Sat, 27 Mar 2010 12:01:09 -0400
Subject: Re-Hash: Ithaca Hash #585: Happy Sunny Day at Hammond Hill
Ithaca Hash #585: Happy Sunny Day at Hammond Hill
21 February 2010
Hares:
Always a Bridesmaid
Master Baster
Just Shut Up And Drink (JSUAD)
Virgin:
Tracie, brought by Glassterbater
Hounds:
Assquashticus Erectus
Hot Lips
Doris Dicktoria
Glassterbater
Just Allison
Just Ivan
Hoosier Naddy
Cold Cocked
S.S. Thunderthighs
weird men marking trail
white chalk that slowly turns rose
it’s in the Kool-Aid
-suspicious civilian skier
well-stocked truck bed bar
spike your own hot cocoa, wank
our hares love their hounds
ummm, can I borrow
some shoes? Otherwise I wear
Italian loafers
-Just Ivan
Incredulity
Now we know Sasquatch can ski
Yay! Diversity!
we learned the hard way
some snowshoes not for running
just shut up and drink
-Assquashticus erectus and Hoosier Naddy
skiers lament, how
did the hares make a loop trail
always going up?
-CoCo and Hot Lips
Need a new hash song?
Fresh virgin or F.R.B.?
Ask Glassterbater
Hammond Hilton warms
us, only in the corner
chili works better
Date: Mon, 1 Mar 2010 02:02:28 -0500
Subject: Ithaca Re-Hash #586: A Hasher Comes to Town, A Hasher Leaves Town
A stranger came to the town of Ithaca one day. It was an overcast day, gray and cloudy, utterly typical of Ithaca in the doldrums of Febrary's dregs. Cock A Doodle Doo Me's first visit to Ithaca included noble aspirations of a off-weekend hash for an out-of-towner, and the opportunity was right. Here she was presented with a journey away from her native Every Day is Wednesday Hash outside of Washington, D.C., taking a break from her (ig)noble responsibilities as RA, given a chance to hash in a foreign land. In the day to follow, she met Baster, exchanged tales of hashes past, and engaged in lofty plans for a local hash. Preparations were made for that case, and the stage was set.
That day would give way to wine tasting and dinner with an association of charming, witty gentlemen. (Baster and Spike were also included, strangely). Wine tasting involved pirates, and pirates gave way to a banquet. A banquet gave way to merriment, which inevitably led to sledding and debauchery expected and presumed of a hasher as only a hasher can debauch.
Alas, the circumstances gave way to a lapse in the second precept behind hashing: To get rid of weekend hangovers, as phrased in the 1953 charter established by the original Hash House Harriers in the Royal Selangor Club outside Kuala Lumpur. So it was that circumstance conspired to prevent her from hashing, and Gispert poured a down-down for the spirit of the hash. One must always try, after all, to hash when the spirit is willing.
So it was that Spike, Cold Cocked and Master Baster found themselves all alone at Viva Taqueria on this gray overcast day, bereft of a visitor but prepared for a run for beer. The three harriers, ten pounds of flour and five pounds of instant tea set out at 12:45 for a hash. Being both efficient and imaginative, the pack followed not flour, not chalk, but the other ubiquitous substance that comes with drinking beer: urine.
Trail soon turned up Cascadilla Park, soon whereupon Baster stashed trail marking equipment in favor of a lighter load and lighter feet. Thus unencumbered, he was able to keep up with his cohort and brush off the lag of a night of snow football, sled jump craft, aforementioned debauchery and an unreasonable bedtime. Cold Cocked regaled them of tales of home-made sushi, doing little for their appetites as they ran through the cemetery and up Stewart Avenue.
Spike picked up trail along the gorge, deepening the stained snowpath wrought by myriad fraternity guests who no doubt imbibed their share the previous night. As they ran over the suspension bridge and into Cayuga Heights, they alternated between a brisk trot and a steadfast shuffle, conserving their energy and making full use of the hash-trail-begotten-practice.
Moving briskly through down Highland and up Oak Hill Road, CoCo noticed that he'd once done work for was next to what turned out to be Baster's boyhood home. Trail veered left onto Triphammer, where ZOUNDS! Spike discovered that the trail was false--no trail went through the woods and to the top of the sledding hill. Back-checking towards campus, the pack picked up and sloshed through the slush through the undergraduate dormitories.
As they approached the Dickson Quadrangle, they noticed a respite! An igloo fashioned lovingly by sophomores the night before! As they piled into a space meant for six people, steam filled the room as a sensible amount of minty freshness was shared between the bedraggled harriers.
Duly refreshed, down the steps they went and toward Beebe Lake the coursers loped, passing a happy dog, an absent Pileated Woodpecker, shimmying up the hill, pausing at the bridge, and finding trail leading behind Mann Library and through the Agriculture Quadrangle. On-left was found near the stadium, and soon a secret underground pathway found them emerging into the cavernous Barton Hall, drawing a share of aloof glances from the few spending their afternoons in quiet exercise.
Out the door and skirting Cascadilla creek they went, passing into Collegetown via the footbridge, towards what they sensed to be the on-in. A shortcut along a cleared path pushed them towards 79, where the hare led them across the Six Mile footbridge, along Giles and down, down into the Ale House for the on-in.
Beverages were soon procured for Spike and Baster, while CoCo deliberated thoroughly before settling on a suitable and worthy ale. Thus ensconced, the trio were joined by the indefatigable Porcelain Goddess and the similarly inexhaustible Obsessive Copulaton Disorder, and a toast was shared in honor.
Though we hardly knew ye,
though we followed pee,
though she we did not see,
here's to Cock A Doodle Do Me.
May the hash go in peace, in Ithaca as in Dee-See.
Date: Sun, 16 May 2010 17:52:19 -0700 (PDT)
Well, to begin with...what can I say. I'm both proud that my fledglings ventured out of the nest to set their own trail one year after setting their first bday hash with me...and sad that I didn't get to lay them...errr....I mean lay with them....oh sh*t...that sounds bad too! lol OK...set trail with them.... :)
It was a nice spring day for the hash. Surprising given that it had snowed like hell the week before and when I ventured out to Shindagin to scout with Nurse TaKillYa, Head to Toe in Utero and Just Jamie Shindagin Hollow road was closed due to no plowing.... The snow was all gone from the road now...but not from the woods. Oh goodie!!! Snowball fights awaited us!!!
As we were assembling we had a good crew show up for the hash that day. (OK...SPIKEEEE!!!!....haaaaalp! Who all was there?)
We had..as I recall:
The lovely hares - Nurse TaKillYa, Head to Toe in Utero and Just Jamie (no...you aren't lovely...but you are kinda cute Just Jamie...lol)
Just Owego Jen (gotta keep these Jens properly identified... lol)
Hoosier Naddy
Bridesmaid
Baster
Spike
Glasturbator
Just Ivan
Coco
and yours untruly - Floss
Trail started from the first parking area on Shindagin Hollow road and went...of course....UP! What's with hashers any way???
Given that this was a bday hash...and the fact that Floss never seemed to grow up...he was sporting a couple of cans of silly string. Not such a good idea in retrospect...but...hey....I'm a half-mind...sue me...or just make me drink! lol
But...there was also...........SNOW!!! Lots of hashers found there way into snow banks and splashed by puddles on this nice warm afternoon.
After many a false trail and snowball fights we found our way on up to the parking area on Brailey Hill road...and....BEER!!!! Yay!!! Once the BEER was consumed and the shenanigans ended...for now...we were off again.
On up the road for quite a way. Hey!!! Did you guys auto-lay this sh*t??? Then...back down into the woods and along the stream we went. Hanging with Head....HEAD!!! WHO SAID HEAD? I'LL TAKE SOME OF THAT!...a few of us were led WAAAAAAY down the stream because the hare said this was the way to go. Riiiiight.... NOT! Did you learn to set trail from Bedside Poledancer??? lol OK...now way behind the pack...we scurried along to catch up. Just in time too! As we were sliding down the steep hillside on our butts we heard those glorious words....BEER NEAR!!!!! Across Shindagin Hollow road and up the embankment we went to bask in the sun and quench our thirsts. Ahhhh....hashing doesn't suck.
Now what? Oh...right....Lazy Hares!!!....back up the road to the start of trail....
Circle was held at the cars and our birthday girls drank.........OFTEN!!!! Others drank as well. In addition to BEER and munchies....there were birthday hats and noise makers...of course...and birthday cupcakes that had taken a number of tumbles in the back of Floss's car during the day. But...they seemed to still be edible. lol
Once circle adjourned the party continued on back at Nurse TaKillYa's and Just Jamie's house were we drank even more and amused ourselves as Just Jamie faded into oblivion....
It was truly a sh*tty hash and horrible day. Can't wait till next year.....Twin Peaks Hash - Part TWAT!
on-on!
Floss
Date: Sat, 10 Apr 2010 09:50:33 -0400
Hmmmmmmmm...
Live trail @ Lime Hollow-New Hash ground!
Hares-Crimes Against Huge Mammaries, Man-O-Whore
Hounds-
Hosier Nanny
Co-co
Nurse-ta-kill-ya
Head-to-Toe-In-Utero
Butt Floss
PeeGee
Just..ummmmm, just ummmm.........I forgot.
Live trail with MOW as the live hare, Crimes as the pre-set helper and sweeper of lost hounds. Off we went thought the shiggy of Lime hollow. Trail went to the right, though the hare exited to the left...tricky hare. Through the woods we went, coming upon a interesting fountain, that was covered!! NO SKINNY DIPPING! BOO!
After a horrendous 13 back check, that most of us skipped d/t being lazy....Oh yes BEER!!! WoooHooo!! The Hares had a special game in lieu of Easter, and promise of chocolate came up short....don't worry they drank for that later. After some shenanigans and beers in our bellies off to find the hare again. Turkey-Eagle split-Co-co, PG, HN, Head, Floss went the "hard" way, while the lazy hare, Just dude, and Nurse went the easy peezy way. We met in the middle somewhere and found ourselves following a trail through some really awesome Native American home replicas, pictures with the Bear...to a YBF! Back we go past our friend the bear (he liked Keystone). Though more side, side hill shiggy to the second BN! Yay!! Drink, drink, drink we did, off the hare went again, followed by and eager Co-Co....To what we found out later that he caught the hare-TWICE! Mow had some warm beers in his pack-o-flour that he made Co-Co drink before he could catch him...again....lol. Though much stink cabbage later, and I almost lost my shoe in the bog, was the ON-IN! A nice stage was set up, of course just for us; or maybe for the visiting children. Floss made the best effort to pick up the RA, you know dementia and all....did a pretty good job considering his old age-he's like 80 now, right? Nurse and Floss drank for spanky new ones, that were not anymore....hehehe. The Hares drank a bunch for no chocolate on trail, and just being sneaky hares.PG and I drank for short-cutting, because we are smarter than most hounds. HN did drink a lot, but I can't remember why. Nurse, Crimes, and Just Dude drank for taking the easy way out. Co-co drank for wanting to r*n too much. PG, Crimes and myself drank again for blood on trail, and ummmmm the rest is a blurr.....But I do remember---
MAY THE HASH GO IN PEACE, MAY THE HASH GET A PIECE!
ON-ON!
Head-To-Toe-In Utero.
Date: Tue, 8 Jun 2010 16:34:16 -0400
Drinko de Mayo
Spanish for “Drink the Mayonnaise”
What better occasion than Sunday the 2nd of May to practice our Spanish in preparation for Cinco de Mayo! A small group of hashers gathered dutifully in Cold Cocked’s parking lot and awaited Chalk Talk. Spike, Assquashticus, and Just Jenn were wearing rugs and fake moustaches to get into the spirit. Always a Bridesmaid pulled out some pre-trail beer and distributed it. Road Kill, PG, and Baster drank gladly. Jiffy Lube showed up with a piñata. Floss (with hash dog FiFi) and Head-to-Toe, fresh off trail at Stinko de Mayo in Harrisburg, PA, careened into the lot. After chalk talk, we waved good-bye to Head, Jif, and OCD and began the hunt for trail.
Si usted no puede encontrar en el camino primero 5 minutos, estás en problemas.
Spanish for “If you can’t find trail in the 1st 5 minutes, you’re in trouble.”
Front running bastards took off quickly toward the woods and soon became dead f*cking last when others discovered that trail actually headed out along Etna Road. Trail turned abruptly into an overgrown powerline and then all hell broke loose. It seems that, while CoCo may have an overabundance of some things, a supply of FLOUR is not one of them. Into the woods, out of the woods, hashers one way, hashers another. Feet wet, no flour in sight. Bridesmaid thought he found a mark-- only to discover that it was crusty bird sh*t. PG began knocking down trees in frustration. Floss sat down in the marsh and began to cry. Assquashticus called CoCo names that cannot be repeated in print.
Tan emocionante como es encontrar la harina, la búsqueda de la cerveza es mejor.
Spanish for “As exciting as it is to find flour, finding beer is better.”
Cheers all around when small ‘poof’ of flour was discovered. Trail meandered out of the marsh, into the ‘burbs, and down to the creek. Hoping for a ‘BN’ and discovering a Turkey/Eagle split instead, stupid runner-type hashers (Road Kill, Bridesmaid, Baster, and Spike) took off down the creek. Smart hashers (PG, Floss, Just Jenn, and Assquashticus) stayed to the road. Since CoCo had no flour for the turkey trail, he led us personally to the 1st beer near. Stupid hashers were not so lucky. After a wet, shiggy search for trail marks along the creek, Bridesmaid, Baster, and Spike remained defeated and climbed out to the road. No one knows how they found the beer near, but we were all afraid for CoCo’s life at that point.
Puede utilizar una piñata como una salida para su ira, frustración, y la necesidad de cometer un asesinato.
Spanish for “You can use a piñata as an outlet for your anger, frustration, and need to commit murder.”
Despite the lack of flour on the rest of the trail, no one killed CoCo that day. Three hashers and hash dog mutinied back to the road to walk back to the On-In. Remaining hashers took to the woods with CoCo to be led back to the start. Once safely back at the On-In, Baster auto-hashed back along the road to get the stragglers. Hashers were joined at the On-In by bobbits, Jiffy Lube and OCD. CoCo was made to drink repeatedly for sh*tty trail, lack of flour, and too few beer nears. FRBs and DFLs drank. Bobbits drank. Floss drank for Road Whoring. PG, OCD, and Baster drank for r*cism. Other hashers drank for other things that can't be remembered...then we drank some more. Jiffy pulled out a piñata and what frustrations we hadn’t already taken out on CoCo were then transferred to the poor candy-stuffed paper-mâché (Mexico triumphs over France!). Candy flowed forth. Beer continued to flow forth. The hash went in peace and got a piece.
This Drinko de Mayo will forever be remembered
as "El Hash de la Perrita sin Harina."
Spanish for “The Hash of the Little Dog Without Flour.”
Date: Wed, 2 Jun 2010 16:50:09 -0400
MAMMORIAL DAY REHASH
Hare: Butt Floss
Locale: Finger Lakes National Forest / Burnt Hill Rd.
Hounds:
Country Cock
Head to Toe
Hoosier Naddy
Hot Lips
Spike
Just Betsey
Just Kenny
Just Kevin
Just McClain
Noobies:
Virgin Daryl
Rehash:
Trail: Hot Lips
Circle & On-After: CC
Eleven outcasts gathered on the far side of Hector National Forest on Sunday May 30, having neither family nor friends who cared enough to invite them to their Memorial Weekend celebrations. Lone hound Butt Floss started setting trail a little before 1:00 (he said), so the hashers assumed that the trail would be short and sweet. After all, the temperature was approaching 90F and no one in their right mind would be climbing up hills for very long in that weather. Floss forgot cups and some of the beer – reinforcing the Half-Mind caricature of the typical hasher. The hashers began to accumulate a little after 3:00 along a narrow one-lane dirt road with few places to pull over. In addition to semi-regulars CC, Spike, Just Betsey, Hoosier Naddy, Head to Toe in Utero and Hot Lips, we were joined by Just McClain, Just Kenny, Just Kevin and Virgin Daryl, and three real hounds, Phoenix, Talula and Indigo. Kevin and Indigo are pups – Kevin just turned 14 years and Indigo 14 weeks. So with youthful exuberance, we bounded off up the side of the mountain.
Soon we came to a boob check (thanks Betsey) at an intersection, with flour marks on the paved road leading downhill. Half way down was a not unexpected YBF, so back up the hill we climbed – and up and up and up. Just Kenny complained that he was a downhill specialist, and this uphill crap was not to his liking. Around mile 4 of the uphill, and before anyone collapsed from dehydration or heat exhaustion, we finally came to an intersection with a hiking trail at the top of the mountain. Dead ends abounded. Fortunately, one of the dead ends turned out to be real trail so we were off through wooded glade and dale. Around mile 7 we came back out onto a dirt road where the first beer stop awaited us. There we entertained ourselves watching the dogs torment each other, especially the puppy who wasn’t at all tired yet. Off we went again where the near silence of panting dogs and stomping feet was eventually broken by howling dogs from a campsite - around mile 10. We searched for trail by that campsite and started onward when flour was found, only to be called back by Floss who said we had discovered the trail coming back – and we were running backwards and would miss the beer. So we headed back down the road where we met some other campers who told us they had seen some flour behind their campsite. Off we went where we came upon a pond and a man fishing while enjoying the brilliant sunshine and silence of the forest. His afternoon in quiet splendor was short-lived because, little did he know that he had parked himself near a beer stop. Wet energetic dogs and tired hashers do not make for an intimate personal encounter with Mother Nature.
Just Betsey and the dogs played with sticks while the rest of us replenished our depleted carbohydrate reserves with chips and salsa which –after running 15 miles – tasted pretty darn good. So, back into the woods we went, mile after mile after mile, with nary a check in sight. An hour or so later we came across our third beer check, but unfortunately it had no beer. But fortunately, it had a picnic table and shelter which accommodated us while the beer was fetched by Floss. Although few words were spoken, the hashers were comforted knowing that a professional fire fighter trained in CPR was among us. With miles yet to go, we knew that, should one of us succumb to the heat, our cremation would be handled by Daryl in a professional manner.
As night approached, we heard the barking of distant dogs – a sign that either the campers who set up by our parking area - or the stars of Deliverance (hard to tell the difference) – were close at hand and the on-in was near. So, we gathered back at the on-in, a mere 3.5 hours after our departure, to lick our wounds, explain to Floss what poison ivy looks like, and celebrate our survival through the wilds of Hector in blistering heat.
Circle:
And then we circled up. Who would lead us in circle this day? Floss set the bleeding (literally) thing. Master Baster was otherwise disposed with some graduational demands. It was discussed that our elder statesman, Hot Lips, could lead us well, but he could only stay for one down-down before having to sneak away. So, as the only member of mismanagement present, Spike stepped up to the podium. And quickly launched into the first down-down, for shitty trail. Everyone whined a bit and then Floss drank. Then, so that he and his could slip away, Hot Lips’ son, Just Kevin was called front and center, along with the other virgin, Daryl. (Although some remembered having run with Kevin at a previous hash, he had only half-consummated his hashing career, since he’d had to prematurely “pull out” from his only other attempt a few weeks ago). And who made them come? Well, Hot Lips, of course, and Just Kenny had made Daryl come, so they drank, too. And then Hot Lips, Kevin, and Indigo left, which is why I’m taking over the rehash at this point.
Well, as those who stayed will recall (or not), then things got really wild. But not before a couple of other down-downs:
Hound owners (Floss and Hoosier [Hot Lips and Kevin had left])
Murky moments (McClain and Hoosier, CC and Floss)
Comes latelys (CC and McClain)
Hash crash (Spike, CC, Floss, others?)
Tech on trail (Kenny)
I know Betsey and Head to Toe drank for something, but I can’t recall what.
Then Floss put his hand down his pants and, knowing what was coming next, we all averted our eyes, but being a virgin, Daryl didn’t know quite what was going on and became transfixed. Fortunately, she responded to our screams and was able to block her view before any damage was done. And, then, somehow, miraculously, the floss failed to make an appearance. Yeah, I know. Weird, right? And the next thing I remember we were on to something else…
In the interest of public safety, we all got naked and did tick checks on each other. Floss, having heretofore kept it hidden, used his floss to, well, check the areas he couldn’t see. Thus satisfied, we voted to On-After at the Wharf in Watkins Glen (since, as Hot Lips eloquently wrote, we had just run a freaking long distance in the miserable freaking heat and suffered freaking interminably and were really freaking hungry at this point). McClain and Spike apparently had better things to do and left us at this point.
But the rest of us made the short drive to Watkins and the Wharf, which was quite a nice spot to end the day. Whilst nibbling on appetizers and sipping fine brews, we enjoyed a waterfront view against the backdrop of the magnificently beatific setting sun. Hoosier expressed an interest in going for a dip, but we wrestled her back to her seat and spent the next hour being regaled by tales of bravery on the high seas (mainly Floss’ recounting of his days skippering cardboard boats in that very harbor), life as an Ithaca firefighter, and some of our more illustrious alumni (namely, Trojan, who had nearly roped one of the afore-mentioned firefighters, Kenny, into joining the IH3 a good many years ago but had apparently forgotten to mention that there was beer involved. Not really sure what all they talked about, then.).
With bellies full of burnt dead animal flesh and fermented grains, we bid adieu to the lovely Wharf, the now set sun, and each other and made our ways to our waiting chariots and were soon homeward bound (to lie in a scalding, slightly acidified bath, in hopes of keeping the development of poison ivy to a minimum).
Hope everyone made it home safely. Thanks again to Floss and everyone in attendance for another truly fucked up hash (in the best sense, and I’ve got the scars to remember it by).
Date: Tue, 22 Jun 2010 11:39:54 -0400
Well, after four or so years of diligent proselytizing, Master Baster finally managed to get me to a hash. So as not to offend those folks whose names I've already forgotten, I won't try to establish the attendance list... but I can certainly say that everyone was most welcoming and accommodating of my ignorance and noobishness. The pre-r*n dousing in flour was endearing.
After promptly going up a steep, muddy hill, we found beer! One guy slipped down the way to get the bag and couldn't get up, and Baster tried feebly to rescue him. We broke into the beer and the choco-nut bars, which even the dog didn't find tasty. Off down the other side of said hill on our asses, I was pleased to encounter a gorge that I hadn't yet experienced in Ithaca. Six-Mile Creek, was it? Again, I suck at names. Anyway, after jumping into the turbid water above Second Dam, oatmeal cream pies were discovered up in the woods (and beer, of course). We all were then informed about what cream pies and sex have to do with each other, and fortunately there were small children present to overhear. I'd call that a success. One hasher vanished, and I'm told this is a regular occurrence.
The rest of the trail was a fairly straightforward up-and-out-and-back-down, and more beer was had at the end. Beer was given out for those who jumped in the gorge, and then for those who didn't. Two people drank for getting engaged, and two others for working way too hard at the gym before the hash. Baster forced me to say something about myself in the circle afterward. I'm sure nothing of interest or consequence was learned, and that's just fine.
Thanks again for a fun time, and I'll try to make it to another event in the near future.
Cheers,
FraK