Arctic Borderland Hash

Run #1039, February 27, 2006

Hare:  Oozing SD

Location:  Easton, MA

Weather:  Low teens, Clear

Present:  SESYB, Dr WHO, Basket Boom Boom, Amish It Head, WIPOS, Seamus.

The Run:

On cold, blustery evening with the snow almost gone, those who are the most desperate and pathetic members of the RIH3 gathered half-way to the north pole. The hare had set trail across the frozen tundra of Massachusetts’ far north (in Rhode Island terms). The site was a park that had been considered in the past, but ruled out as being TOO FAR away. But with all the recent virgin runs, this hare was desperate to compete. Or perhaps just to get away with small quantities of inferior beer.

At any rate, slightly late (in the hope that they could get arrested before setting off into the wind) they started. To find that the trail marks were near-invisible lightly tinted patches of reddish-orange flour on the sparse snow. They let the color-blind Basket lead. This was a brilliant choice. The marks, such as they were, had to be individually pointed out by the hare who pretended outrage that no one could see them. Trail led west on Bay Road Lane.

They ran on this straight and flat road for a mile and a half. The frozen ground made it as hard as pavement, so the hare was already losing the few points he had gained by making the marks invisible. Some checks led to meaningless trips into the adjoining fields. Basket pressed on, blind and dim-witted, yet determined. Finally, after passing the farmhouse, and the last parking gate, a check led to trail on the edge of the lower Leach Pond. Now Amish and WHO led, turning slightly north of west.

Meanwhile, WIPOS arrived late. He arrived lost. He parked at the visitor’s center on Massapoag Ave, (the opposite side of the park) and headed in, looking for marks, and listening for horns. Unfortunately for him, there were no visible marks. Even when he stumbled onto the trail. And with no visible marks, there’s no reason to be blowing a horn, is there? It was one of the quietest hashes of all time. But well-shielded with WIPOS-Armor, he comfortably jogged deeper into the woods.

The main group remained together. Amish, sick of not finding any marks, sent the hare ahead to reset his trail. This was helpful. Especially because the hare had chosen to wear super-reflective tape on his running clothes. All his efforts to hide and mislead the group were foiled. A light anywhere NEAR the hare lit him up like a Christmas tree! They crossed the Poquanticut Brook on a bridge. A check turned them northeast on the Pond Walk.

Amish and Basket led, and they soon came to a check. Amish tried left, and Basket went straight. WHO and SESYB studied one of the convenient trail maps present at ALL intersections in this well-mannered wilderness. Even Fuwangi couldn’t have become lost here! The choice was follow Amish into the woods northwest (with the hare) or to continue northeast to the trail between the Upper and Lower Ponds (and an obvious beer check). The second option meant following Basket! They turned northwest with a sigh. Basket reversed course and followed. The sigh became a groan.

They followed the Westside Trail uphill, and over rocky terrain. A quick review of the map at the next intersection sent them together right on the French Trail. Each check was easily mastered, usually with the help of the map, so it was without difficulty that they completed the loop back to Tisdale Road via the Split Rock Trail and the Lower Loop. The hare was missing at this point. Unfortunately, WIPOS was able to hear the noise they made. He joined up with the group on the Pond trail, his flashlight temporarily causing some confusion, as it was misidentified as belonging to the hare.

But after consulting a map for one final time, they turned back and correctly chose the Pond Walk as it ran between the ponds (to the obvious beer check). This was found with the hare, at the bridge over the outflow for the appropriately named “Pud’s Pond”. Beer choices were described by the hare as “black” or “not-so-black”. Avoiding questions about what brand of beer is a sure sign of a lapse in quality. And so it was!

The cold basically aborted any prolongation of the BC or the singing. SESYB was first to start shivering, so she left alone, with directions for two alternatives from the hare. “Bob’s Trail is shorter” he declared. Off she went into the woods. The rest filled their cups and started walking south on the Pond Walk. They came to the farmhouse, and turned left for the leisurely mile back to the cars. Arriving, they expected to find SESYB warm in her car. She was missing! Now this is a true dilemma! Basket or Bondo missing? No problem! Run away as quickly as possible. But one of our only remaining bimbos? Someone must go to the rescue!

The hare was busy making excuses as to why he shouldn’t go, when a light was seen coming south on Bay Road. SESYB had lost track of Bob’s Trail and had made it back to the road by following some lights. With relief, the circle was formed (on Bob’s Trail). Ratings for the run: no shiggy, no one lost, weak beer, and pavement-like dirt roads outweighed the absence of Bondo and Fuwangi. Total: -6.9. Hashit: left with an undeserving Dr WHO, for the crime of actually bringing it back into the circle, and because everyone was getting too cold to argue any more.

Circle ended, the hare was forced to drive WIPOS to the other side of the park to collect his car. The rest followed WHO as he led them on Rt 123 towards Rt 24 and a decent “Irish” pub called “Owen O’Leary’s”. (The fajitas were the most “Irish” thing on the menu, but they had some pretty good Natick microbrew stout and IPA in pitchers.) No singing, no food-in-beer, and no shenanigans with the waitress. This hash is getting old and decrepit. WHO can’t think of any valid reason to keep coming back each week, but somehow, it keeps happening.

On On