Virgins on Ice Hash

Run #1027, Dec 5, 2005

Hare:  Just Sandra, Dick Doc

Location:  Elmhurst and Environs.

Weather:  Mid 30’s, 1” of Snow, cloudy.

Present:  Fuwangi Boner, Dr WHO, Basket Boom Boom, Amish It Head, Yank My Doodle, Bondo Jovi, Oozing SD, Dry Foot Fairy. Visitors: Amazon.cum, Boner in the Circle (BH3). Virgin: Just Bob. Management: Seamus, Ben.

 

The Run:

The virgin hares have picked up on something in their brief time with the RIH3. Beer is Good! They have learned this. They have learned that the best way to mask a pathetic trail is to provide beer in large quantities. At the start. Fundamental principles that we would all do well to learn!

The hashers arrived in Just Sandra’s garage. Some fine beer selections were available, along with some chips and nuts. A virgin, Just Bob walked in looking for a running club. Ha! He found WHO and Fuwangi half-way through their second beer. Ha! He looked concerned. Visitors from Boston: Amazon.cum and Boner-in-the-Circle arrived. RI’s Fuwangi Boner and Yank My Doodle respectively were their escorts. Confusing and yet revolting. Romance was in the air. Oozing cast a sultry eye at Seamus. Just Bob looked slightly nauseated.

The hares came out of the house. They explained that because of the snow, most of the marks were on poles, and some were flour lightly colored with Kool-Aid. This was a recipe for disaster. Basket pointed out that this garage seemed to contain a good supply of beer and food. Thus, this run could be skipped. Just Bob looked confused. Most were on the point of agreeing loudly. But somehow the hares managed to shoo everyone out into the cold. They were off at 6:30.

Trail started south on Jastram and came to a check at the Pleasant Valley Parkway. This road has a nice drainage canal in the center. It builds in volume and odor until it goes underground and ends up in the Woonasquatucket. Some potential shiggy was there. Fuwangi turned east. WHO turned west. There was much confusion as they tried to fit the canal into the plan of the trail. But the novice hares hadn’t been in the zone. What a waste! Sadly, the pack turned away as Oozing found marks and called “On On”. He and then Fuwangi led north on Academy.

The pack was strung out along Academy, and unexpectedly came upon the Academy! Lasalle, that is. Track oval. Swimmin’ pools! Playin’ Fields. Seeing the fields, Fuwangi guessed correctly. He turned left across a parking lot, and followed the perimeter of the fields. Some shiggy! Fences, poor marks and general incompetence led to confusion as they came out onto Smith St. But finally a few marks were found crossing Smith and continuing north on Nelson. With childlike confidence, Amazon continued steadily north. With remarkable (and misplaced) trust, Just Bob followed Amazon. Perhaps something else motivated him. One never knows. Oozing turned east and again found true trail.

The hares were in mid-pack, marking the checks. This was little help, because in the snow, no one could see the checks in the first place. The pack was now led by Basket as they came to the square at Eaton and River. It seemed obvious that the hares would turn onto the campus of PC. But that was Basket’s choice. WHO warned Amish off, and the two tried south briefly. Oozing caught on though and followed Basket across campus. The students ignored the hashers, assuming it was either: a) a fraternity prank, b) a complex psychological test, or c) the sinister workings of Opus Dei or the Knights Templar or the Da Vinci Code, or d)WHATeverr!

Exiting the campus, they again lost trail briefly due to the excellent camouflage provided by the snow. But Fuwangi saw Dick Doc, and with Boner in the Circle, turned south on Huxley. Back to Smith Street they came. WHO ran into the assisted living grounds, looking for colonoscopy candidates. The rest turned southeast onto Convent. Trail led back to Pleasant Valley Parkway, and then south on Oakland crossing into Davis Park. A “BN” was sighted.

Dick Doc led Fuwangi, Amish, Oozing, and Basket to the beer, located at the back of the baseball diamond, at the base of the hill. WHO, certain that the BC would be more scenic, floundered about atop the hill, looking for marks and coming up empty. He saw the gathering at the base, and came down to join them. They decided to move the festivities back up hill mainly to try and lose Bondo. Just Sandra, Yank My Doodle, and Boner arrived. They quickly moved up hill. Unfortunately, there was insufficient time to finish off the beer. Bondo arrived. Even worse, Dry Foot arrived. In civilian clothes. Now only Amazon and Virgin Bob were missing. With two beers left, their lights were sighted. Bob looked quite worn out, and it seemed that it wasn’t from the run.

Beer finally finished, they were on out, without benefit of marks. Boner and Yank my Doodle showed the way, both falling dramatically on the snow covered slopes. Show offs! The pack split in two. The local experts, led by Basket and Oozing headed straight. They promptly got lost. The visitors, Amazon and Boner , led WHO, Fuwangi and Amish on a wild race straight to 81 Jastram. They even beat Dry Foot, who was driving. So much for local knowledge! The Garage was closed, but the house was not. But all they could scrounge in the refrigerator was a half-empty bottle of Riesling. Disgusting. They finished it off anyways. Dick Doc showed up. She opened the garage door and the beer was freed.

The circle took place as the stragglers stumbled in. The ratings were good, in spite of the pavement, lack of losses, lack of shiggy and clear weather. But it was a farewell hash for Dick Doc, the hares were female AND virgin, and there had been plenty of good beer. Total: 6.9! Hashit was improvised: a bicycle helmet duct-taped to the head of first Fuwangi and then Oozing. Protecting those two from brain damage? A bit late, really! Finally, the circle degenerating almost beyond hope, a naming: Just Sandra was named Cum Under Pubic Saw-her-squat. Your scribe won’t even attempt to explain this one. For cryin’ out loud! Pathetic!

Anxious to get the perpetrators of this pathetic name away from her neighborhood as soon as possible, Cum Under packed them off to the On On On. This was at the Club 412. Pizza was ordered, along with four or five giant salads. The pizza was fine, but the salads provoked quite a bit of confusion. Async wasn’t there. There were no sheep nearby to bribe. Most of the salad ended up in the beer. Then desserts, and song, as the evening ended, and the hash sadly bid a fond farewell to Dick Doc (who doubtless was by this time secretly sighing in relief.)

 

On On