Filed under: Rehashes
Ithaca Hash House Harriers 750th Trail
“aka, it really does take 5 to orgy trail”
Hares
Kickstand
One Trick Dick
Deer Near
Hounds
Thank You Come Again
Packin’ Penis
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!!!
And finally!!!
1- At the orgy, Kicky asked if the Brown One was in yet.
Filed under: Rehashes
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Filed under: Rehashes
The Odyssey of the Nine Mile Shit Show
November 23, 2014
Hares : FertilizeHer and Captain Smashballs (virgin lay)
Hounds:
PG
Master Baster
Ookie Cookie
Nurse TaKillYa
Brown Hole Delivery
Arachnoflobia
Came With a Fake Name – SOH4
Captain – SOH4
Jackoff O’Lantern – SOH4
Trust Me It Won’t Spread
Dunga the Blumpkin King
Tastes Like Tenth Grade
Thunderbolt Fanny (Cornell Grad Student who had hashed previously in Azerbaijan while serving as a member of the Peace Corps)
Virgin X (That came with Thunderbolt Fanny)
Buttfloss
Handy
Pack N Play
Spike
Just Travis
Just Katie
Virgin Chris
Thank You Cum Again
Tell me, O muse, of those ingenious heroes who travelled far and wide to set trail. Many hobo cities did they visit, and many were the kennels with whose manners and customs they were acquainted; moreover they suffered much by the tongue lashings gained during trail while trying to save their own life and bring the hash safely to On-In; but do what they might they could not save the hash from their suffering, for they were trapped by their own sheer folly in drinking the nectar of the Sun-god Gispert; so the god prevented them all from quickly reaching circle.
The epic tale begins. Religious Advisor Master Baster ministers to the pack “Hear me, hashers of Ithaca, and I speak more particularly to SOH4, for I see mischief brewing for them. The hares are not going to be away much longer; indeed they are close at hand to deal out death and destruction, not on them alone, but on many another of us who live in Ithaca. Let us then be wise in time, and finish our beers before flour talk commences. Let the Syracuse hashers do so of their own accord; it will be better for them, and more entertaining for the rest of us.”
When we had set out on trail thence the flour took the pack first through Cass Park. After many checks going in many directions, a more hasher-friendly land was found on the Black Diamond Trail. As no one then said that we had better make off at once, and the pack predictably was attracted to some sort of not-creepy-at-all ruins of a karkinos, so they stayed there drinking and looking on as SOH4 Captain attempted to slay the karkinos without the assistance of the pack. Meanwhile the Ithacans cried out for help to other Ithacans who lived inland. These were more in number, and drunker, and likewise skilled in the art of slaying playground equipment, for they could fight, either from snow disk chariots or on foot as the occasion served. They did not set in the battle in array, and the brave SOH4 Captain slayed the karkinos alone. As the day was beginning to wane and trail was still young, though the pack had no idea just how young, we got on our way with those that were left. Which was everybody.
“Thence we ran onward with insufficient alcohol in our guts, but glad to be on trail and among hashers of little sense and good humor. Many falses and a vaguely recalled Singapore backcheck which would not fool the foolish hashers on this day. Land and sky were hidden in thick clouds, and threat of night sprang forth out of the heavens. FRBs ran before the pack, which at this time was spread thinly through the land somewhat approximately near where trail was. The enchanted land of Wegman’s was found, and treasure therein in the form of the oft-sought after shopping cart of which our dear SOH4 Captain sought boldly, and with the assistance of Butt Floss the great treasure was joyfully utilized and the actions recorded for posterity by our beloved Tasty Hash Flash who had been called forth from her position far ahead in the pack for the occasion. Shortly thereafter, the pack feared they had drawn the ire of local law enforcement, however the threat was a passing one as the officer was already engaged in ruining someone else’s fun on this day.
The pack was driven thence by winds which contained an air of Safety Meeting, which many near-DFLs pursued but could not find. At this point we came upon the land of the Donut-leaver, who live on a food that comes from a factory masquerading as a bakery. “Give it to Jackoff! Many were heard to say, “he will eat anything!”. Jackoff, thusly challenged lamented the waste of such obviously succulent processed snack food. Here we landed to briefly admire a channel of not-terribly-fresh water, and the pack discovered a trove of unidentified liquids, which many posited was likely a collection of the Donut-leavers’ liquid waste, though some, in their desperation for the golden nectar of Gispert, plead with many hash deities for it to be beer. Immediately disappointed, they started at once, and went about among the Donut-leavers, who did them no hurt, but gazed inquisitively at the motley pack making their way through their many claimed lands.
Now off their overdeveloped district there lies a wooded and fertile land not quite close to the land from which the pack set out, but still not far. It is populated with marginalized citizenry, that exist there in great numbers and are oft-disturbed by figures of authority; but it lies in a kind of urban wilderness untilled and unsown from year to year, and has living things upon it. There are meadows that in some places come right down to the inlet, well watered and full of thorns.
Here we entered, but so waning was the light of day and so sparse was the flour, that Gispert must have brought us in, for there was nothing whatever to be seen. Many hashers were blinded in their search for beer, their thirst now growing stronger with each passing mile, and followed Baster past the first Beer Near and had to be called back by the increasingly abused hares. It was here that Nurse found the slippery ground, and bravely demonstrated its effects for the pack to see, and be thusly warned of its danger. The misguided returned and partook with the hash in the long-long-long-long-sought after golden treasure. The pack rejoiced and imbibed, and was eventually cajoled into moving On-On.
With constant abuse of the far-wandering hares, and frequent whines and groans rising from the pack, the group actually left the boundaries of the fair city of Ithaca and was greeted by the form of an often-celebrated and treasured hall – the Ithaca brewery loomed in our sights. The optimistic among us celebrated the genius of the hares, and gained hope of a joyous celebration within the sacred hall. The pack was quickly disheartened, however, as trail lead us away and the night’s approach was increasingly clear. There was wandering about on railway and trail, near creek and highway alike. The accounts of our travels here become hazy, as the pack was again spread thinly through the land and a variety of mind-altering substances combined with the half minds resulting in few mammaries to account for this portion of our epic journey.
The pack eventually came upon a second beer near, situated in an inconspicuous and as-usual-not-creepy location. At this point, an auto-hashing Dunga rejoined the pack and celebrated the survival of all involved thus far. There was a great deal of half-minded complaining as to the length of our journey, and the leadership, intelligence and potential sadistic qualities of the hares was discussed at length. Our fearless hares, mostly unaffected by the jeers and complaining of the hash up until this point, began to look battle-worn and weary (though still remarkably unaffected by entreaties to consider hash logic, and seemingly still committed to their philosophy of The Longer the Better). “For too much rest itself becomes a pain”, they say.
As for the pack, we kept on puzzling to think how we could best save our own asses and those asses of our companions as darkness fell; we schemed and schemed, as one who knows that beer lay at the end of this journey and also that we are still very far from it. PG proposed one route, Baster another, autohashing Dunga offered carriage to all who could stack themselves in his vehicle. In the end we deemed that All the Plans At Once would be the best. The hashers who endeavored on foot were at first in tight formation, taking on the challenges of the night (and again returning to the city proper of fair Ithaca) together. The nature of the half minds quickly defeated many attempts at logical planning which occurred at the last Beer Near, and the pack split in several directions.
Concerns for the variety of challenges which lay before us were brought forth. “Safety Third” was frequently invoked, as the hash negotiated traffic, hidden potholes, and the constant threat of The Man ruining our fun. Eventually much of the pack made its way mostly back to On-In by way of and extended nighttime stroll down the railroad track. Nearing the middle of this part of our journey, we came upon a figure making his way toward us down the tracks. Seeing only the figure’s silhouette and fearing a minotaur, Nurse inquisitively eyed the subject and possibly also mumbled a greeting of sorts. Brownie, being a good-natured and trusting sort, acknowledged the mysterious figure and bid him a good evening. The figure, now plainly one of the aforementioned marginalized locals sporting a large pack, returned the greeting and observed that the hash made for a rarely seen number of people on the tracks in recent years. The pack made its way along, slowly toward On-In, weary and wary, separated and travelling different paths.
Upon finding their way back to circle, it was immediately demanded that the hares be iced. “Our fruitless labours mourn, and only rich in barren fame we return,” they lamented. Virgins were brought into the fold of hashing. Various offenses on and off trail were accounted for in the ritual consumption of Gispert’s beverage of choice. And rest at last, where weary hashers do – on-after to Viva Taqueria where SOH4 and IH3 alike dined and drank and recounted tales of trails near and far.
Filed under: Rehashes
Filed under: Rehashes
Trail #733 of the Ithaca Hash House Harriers
Double Your Pleasure Sunday Edition at Monkey Run
October 19, 2014
Hares:
Wow Mom Wow
Ookie Cookie
Hounds:
Butt Floss
Captain Smashballs
Master Baster
Porcelain Goddess
Just Katie
Just Jenny (aka Arachnoflobia)
One Trick Dick
Deer Near
Brown Hole Delivery
Nurse TaKillya
Tastes Like 10th Grade
Kickstand
Spike
Thank You, Come Again
Fuzz Nuts
Head to Toe In Utero
Pack N’ Play
Dogs:
Zephyr
Shiggy
Phoenix
Trail got off to a smashing start when Baster sideswiped his brand new car against a wooden post while pulling into the parking lot for chalk talk. PG was none too pleased but did not let it dampen her spirits for long — she didn’t have to teach her fitness class that morning and had plenty of energy for hitting the trail. It was also Ookie and Wowie’s lay and that was cause for a celebration all in itself. Wowie had recently rejoined the hash after a long hiatus and she was already ready to hare. Yay! We were hopeful that she hadn’t forgotten what the marks meant. While hounds gathered in the chilly air, we encountered a lady walking her dog who told us she had seen the flour in the woods and was careful to wipe it out to make the forest pristine again. Turns out, she was the mother of Cocktail Frank, and she was only teasing us about erasing our marks. Considering that most of us there had never met Cocktail Frank, we were relieved to hear she was kidding.
There had been a trail the day before and a couple of hashers were present at both. Your scribe had managed to bobbit trail on Saturday with help from PG and had spent the evening at Head and Oakus’ house, hot tubbing, drinking everything in sight, eating vodka-soaked gummy creatures and playing Thumper and Cards Against Humanity with her hosts and TYCA, Commando Cobbler and Flesh Flaps. Shockingly enough, some of us were not feeling our best when we arrived for trail. Captain Smashballs had spent the evening before in Ithaca, carousing around town with some non-hasher friends and had apparently done the ultimate walk of shame back to his car Sunday morning before the hash, several miles away, and including a bathroom break in a cemetery. Acceptable hash behavior! TYCA’s back and cranium were in agony and Tasty was unsure of her ability to drink any beer. Nurse looked like the Unibomber and once again we were surprised that Just Katie joined us (she’s just so nice!).
Trail was rooty, steep, leafy, chilly, circle jerky and J-hooky. The first J-hook was found by Spike and he traveled back to find PnP to share it with her. PG and Tasty found the first BN and had to fight over who got the FRB backpack and who got the FRB Tshirt. Tasty won the shirt. Fuzzy found the 2nd BN and Tasty had to give up her warm shirt to him, but not before Wowie realized that she and Tasty were standing in the very spot where Steady Head had to drink one too many DFL wine coolers and was heard to remark while nearly gagging, “This tastes like 10th grade.” The second J-hook was found by Fuzz Nuts, who is only 17, so he gave his shots to his mama (Head) and his aunt (Nurse). One of the shots was 99 Bananas. Gross, but apt for Monkey Run. Those underage harriers sure are FRBs!!!
Meanwhile, Baster had brought his own log from the previous day’s trail. The way I understand it, this log, which was ~6″ in diameter and ~18″ long, had flour covering one smoothly sawed end marking Saturday’s trail. He decided to carry it along with him so that he would always be ON-ON. While this was excellent exercise and amusing to us all, it actually came in handy (haha handy) when we needed to cross a stream and there was no easy spot to do so. Gallantly, Baster tossed his log into the water to create a causeway for us to traverse. Forthwith, trail was BYOB —> Bring your own bridge.
ON-IN to Circle. Thank You, Come Again had revealed the day before that he had never had an apple pie before so Head (with very little help from Tasty) had baked him one. Did you know you can buy rolled up fresh crust dough from the store? A revelation in pie making! It was delicious! Baster had to drink from the Sleeve of Shame for crashing his car. Just Jenny got named —> Due to finding and picking up a (unused) tampon on trail and earlier in the summer drinking out of the now-infamous spider flabongo, she shall now be known as ARACHNOFLOBIA!
ON-ON!
Tastes Like 10th Grade
Filed under: Rehashes
ThankYouCumAgain
Filed under: Rehashes
See if that helps.”
Filed under: Rehashes
Hares:
Tastes Like Tenth Grade
Dunga the Blumpkin King (Virgin Hare)
Hounds:
Dancing Fool
Just Paul
Thank You Come Again
Master Baster
Porcelain Goddess
Handy (formerly known as Just Jen)
Just Jenn
Cock Spree
Butt Floss
Flesh Flaps
Fertilize Her
Trust Me it Won’t Spread
Spike
Just Kate
Nurse TaKillYa
Brown Hole Delivery
Captain Smashballs
Ookie Cookie
Kickstand
The United Auto Twerker (Bobbit)
A note before we start: this is written by a FRB so things were missed. Please feel free to point them out.
So there we were at a Muggle’s house off of Elm Street Extension, looking forward to an aMAZEing trail set by Tasty the Gobblin’ King (see image 8) and her Wino-taur (Dunga; see image 3). Destructions were given, purple bubbles blown (with a warning to not let it get on our skin or clothes), and we left to find trail. We headed north towards the end of the non-public road and came upon a check. Trail went left into a field of goldenrod and other chest high grasses. Conveniently there were mowed paths, so we did not have to search too hard to find marks. A couple of “Y”s and a BC4 later, and we
were on-on into the woods and out of the maze (or so we thought). A couple more “Y”s and another check put us back into the goldenrod.
Up ahead, the Wino-taur was spotted in the midst of a hash crash but before the pack could catch him they came upon another check and needed to wait for a fifth before continuing. When they did continue, they came upon a clearing with paths radiating in all directions. Apparently we weren’t supposed to see the Wino-taur yet, so I grabbed a PBR from him and continued on trail. This proved to be fortuitous as trail looped back to the same clearing and Spike was the lucky recipient of the first J-hook. Rather than retrace his path, he hashed smarter back down the first trail to find the DFL and was thus able to reward Pack n Play with a fruit punch wine cooler. The pack found an arrow that wasn’t present the first time through and went back into the woods where they finally found the first BN. I went down into the canyon to bring the beer back to overlook the stream. Along with the beer were a pair of red feathered wings that I got to wear for the remainder of trail.
Beers were drank, Baster climbed a tree, and the pack went to search for more trail. The FRBs were moving through the woods pretty quickly and eventually were stopped by another check. After the fifth arrived, they spread out down the likely paths when the Wino-taur jumped out laughing from behind a shrub and I was the recipient of the second wine cooler J-hook. Weaving backwards through the pack, I finally arrived at the end and presented Nurse with her prize (see image 2). Walking back to catch up with the rest of pack, we arrived in another circular clearing where everyone was milling about for no apparent reason. While standing around, Kickstand appeared out of the waving grasses wearing a r*cist shirt. After taking a group photo in case anyone got lost on the remainder of trail (see image 5), we got circle jerked right back to where we just were for a shot check. I don’t remember what the shots were, but they were apparently powerful because Captain
Smashballs climbed a nearby tree and tried to take a nap (see image 7). A human pyramid was also formed at this check with a strong base of Kickstand, Cock Spree, Baster, Dunga, and Brown Hole Delivery. Second level included Captain Smashballs, PG, Ookie, and Thank You, Cum Again. Third row consisted of Pack n Play, Handy, and Just Jenn. Tasty jumped on Handy’s back to form the pinnacle of the pyramid. This is also where we started to notice the amazingness that was Spike’s shorts (see image 16). When asked for an explanation he said he was trying to be like Bowie.
Trail continued through the grass to the back of EcoVillage. We happened upon a solar powered sauna with another BN. Even though it was sitting right under our noses, it took quite some time to find our sacred drink – I think almost the entire pack had arrived before it was uncovered. Some Muggles came to chat us up. In one of the more questionable parenting decisions, the parents were going to head out and leave their 12-13 year old boys with us. Thankfully reason prevailed and the kids left, too. After taking a count of who was staying on-after for pizza, pack went back towards EcoVillage and found a small library (see image 11). Trail was On-In from here.
Circle was held. Accusations included (and I’m sure I’m missing some here because I c
an’t read Baster’s writing): Shitty trail/hares (Tasty, Dunga); Not being scared off from last hash (Just Kate); Missing hashes (Just Paul); Being awesome [or r*cism] (Kickstand, Nurse, Brownie, Handy, Fertilize Her); Ick-a-lush (Fertilize Her); new shoes (Fertilize Her); Bobbit (Twerk); Pretending to shit on trail (Dunga); technology on trail (Floss); anniversary (Thank You Cum Again, Smashballs, Trust Me, Fertilize Her); J-Hooks (see above); Finding the Bogglet of Lingering Stench (Smashballs); Birthday (Dunga – side/side [see image 14]); out of towners (Cock Spree, Flesh Flaps, Dancing Fool?). Just Jen was brought in for a naming. She was asked about giving blow jobs, her building skills, and some shitty question from PG that I can’t recall. Options included: Pillory Spank, something to do with Tim the Toolman Taylor, and some other unmemorable names before finally
deciding on “Handy.” She drank for being named (see image 12) and also for using the pool as instructed. Dancing Fool brought himself into circle to sing a new environmentally conscious song, which I’m just going to assume was in honor of EcoVillage (see photo 17). We said the Our Lager and then it was to the on-after for pizza.
Thanks Tasty and Dunga for setting a memorable trail.
Fertilize Her
Filed under: Rehashes
Hammond Hill
Hares:
Head to Toe in Utero
Nearly everyone showed up wearing their r*ce gear – tech shirts, medals, participatory t-shirts. We freely talked about all the non-hash running we had been up to. It’s only shocking that the shot checks weren’t mixed with GU.
We headed out on trail after a very scratched up PG and winded Cum Again stumbled out of the woods.
The hounds were moving pretty slowly considering the theme of the day – perhaps it was because we were all still tired from the week before or possibly it was because the hares warned us that there were lots of FRB awards on trail. Captain Smashballs decided to sacrifice himself (once again) and lead the way. The first trick he fell for was a complete circle jerk that brought him back to trail behind us. Smashy quickly overcame this setback to lead the pack again. This came back to haunt Cum Again at the first BN, however, because somehow he became worried that Smashy was lost on trail and he went back to look for him. This would not be the last time this day that hounds were sought out in the woods. Kicky got the FRB award at this BN which was the bikini lady shirt. While we were all enjoying our beverages and admiring each other’s r*cist outfits, Cum Again was still out looking for Smashy who was standing there drinking beer with us. So, Smashballs went back out to look for Cum Again and was triumphant in his search. From there, Head and Tasty strolled uphill to look for flour and discovered a Y. Head opted for left so Tasty checked straight ahead. Head called on one, on two and then couldn’t be heard. Tasty didn’t see any flour at first, but she knew that hares can’t be trusted so she kept going over a rise in the road. Down below, she saw a circle so called ‘on-on-on’ but no one came. So she waited. She occasionally called ‘on-on-on’ but still no one came. She was all alone. It takes five hashers to move on from a check so she stayed right there and wondered what was going on. Soon, Cum Again made an appearance over the hill and snuck off to a secret spot and dragged out a Shot Check! He figured since we were waiting for everyone to figure out trail, we might as well have refreshment. How refreshing is alternative malt beverage? Turns out, not as bad as you’d think. Ingredients: High Fructose Corn Syrup, Distilled Water and Sodium Benzoate. Three ingredients, that’s healthy, right?
Hashers started trickling in by twos and threes. Some had followed Head to a check and then followed marks back to the road Tasty was on. Head and Spike were still missing after a good while of hanging out drinking corn likker so Brownie went back to find them. Then Head and Spike show up and Brownie was missing. Then Nurse was missing. Then Brownie came back and we got the full story. Turns out, Head and Spike were doing exactly what Tasty had done, waiting for 3 more people to show up at a check. After no one showed up, they checked for trail and found it and continued on. They were the only ones who followed true trail. Who knows where Nurse had been? The rest of us were short-cutting bastards, but not intentionally. Unconsciously hashing smarter? We were convinced that Virgin Kate (who had made herself cum!) would never cum back to hash with us again. Nurse drank the rest of the moonshine straight from the jar and we followed Kicky and his tech on trail on-out.
We came to a check and discovered where PG had gotten all her scratches from. Cross-cutting through some shiggy we made our way through to a path in the woods that protected us from the ever-darkening skies. It was getting so dark that it was hard to see under the trees and the first drops of rain were heard but not felt under the canopy. When we stopped for our 2nd BN in the middle of a pathway, we were still dry and sang “Meet the Hashers” for two mountain bikers who looked like they really wanted to join us. The beer we were drinking was delicious bottled IPA that Cum Again had insisted on providing. He knew it was the best way to make lost hashers happy. (High Five, Cum Again!)
It was not long after this that the rain started pouring down in earnest~~ a real downpour of epic proportions~~ fearing that trail would be washed away, we showed our true colors and RAN like the beer was getting warm. Tasty was keeping pace with Brownie, Spike and Virgin Kate. We heard Spike call ON IN and we turned off the path we were on to the left. Spike and Kate shot ahead, really turning on the speed, but Tasty noticed an uprooted tree with flour on it that she SWORE she had seen earlier at the beginning of trail and got worried that they had just run like, a mile, out of their way and would have to go back. She snagged Brownie and they slowed, discussing this possibility. There was no way they could catch Spike and Kate and really hoped they wouldn’t have to. As they started slowly back up the trail (in the pounding rain, mind you), Kicky caught up to them and assured them that they were going the right way. WHEW! Turning up the pace once again, Kicky, Brownie, Smashy and Tasty flew into the clearing where the warming hut stands.
Ookie Cookie quickly got a fire going in the warming hut and Baster and Cum Again were steaming in no time. Down-Downs were given out with Rhubarb Sparkling Wine and it was delectable. So many r*cism accusations!
Down-Downs for the Triennial the week before were given out to;
Nurse (running)
PG (running)
Baster (running)
Tasty (running – and violated twice for it!)
Kicky (running)
Cum Again (aiding and abetting)
Brownie (aiding and abetting)
Pack N Play (aiding and abetting)
A down-down to Kicky for running a relay at Virgil Crest the day before.
Down-Downs for that very morning were given to Kicky (aiding Virgil Crest) and Baster (running Monster Marathon in Rochester). The sleeve of shame was invoked but not available so we Macgyvered some Splints of Shame and they remained splinted for the rest of circle.
Ookie Cookie drank for having the oldest r*cist gear – a medal for running the Marine Corps Marathon.
Smashy and TYCA drank for not wearing any r*ce gear and having to borrow clothes
Wow Mom Wow drank for being a Cums Lately – her last trail was a year and a half ago!
Head drank down-downs every time Nurse did because when one twin drinks…
Pack ‘N Play received the new Hashshit with great relish – dropping immediately to her knees and lifting her arms to receive it. Being splinted however, Baster could not dress her and had to have an assist.
Ithaca Hash House Harriers 