Norman Conquest Hash

Run #1066, September 4, 2006

Hare:  Snotty (Basket Boom Boom)

Location:  Burrillville Middle School

Weather:  70’s, Clear

Present:  Dry Foot Fairy, Dr WHO, Async, Klingon, Oozing SD, Amish It Head, Fuwangi, EverReady, KNO, Dogmeat, Short Peck, Shine On. Visitors: Nipples Erectus, Friar F*ck, Wee Willie Wanker, ?Wife or POSSLQ of WWW, Mr Rogers (Boston H3), Tastes Like Chicken (Newport H3), Rear Entry (Portland H3). Virgin: Just Liam (Scotland De Praved).

The Run:

In 1066, William the Conqueror invaded England and defeated and disheartened the Saxons and Harold at the battle of Hastings. In run #1066, William the Wanker (aka Enema Bill- LAM, or Basket Boom Boom) invaded Burrillville and defeated and disheartened the RIH3 and visitors whose only goal was to celebrate Labor Day with a nice hash, and maybe some beer. The parallels are inevitable. (And irrelevant. But they certainly can stretch the write-up.) The location selected for this debacle was the single most overused hash spot in North America: the Burrillville Middle School. Even the satellite photos of this area on Google Earth and TerraServer, when carefully examined show cars with just discernable “On-On” stickers from 1996 and 2004 snapshots. Even the virgin visitor Just Liam, who had never before heard of hashing, mentioned that he had heard a couple of drunks complaining about the “…bloody Burrillville Middle School, hoots!” at a bar in Dundee last summer. Even I digress.

Rather than describe the run in detail, I would refer the reader to other, more interesting write-ups from the past. Let’s begin. Now Snotty has never been much of a hare. But he was a scribe, and his style combines a fine degree of whining, with an accurate picture of his incompetence as a runner. In run #548, Dec 1996 we have a fine example of his style, as well as a mirror image of this run. But what’s this? In May of ’97, Snotty tried again, in run #573. Not much different there, apart from the weather. But this one was a holiday, another recurring theme. Skipping over the 6th and 14th of July, 1997 (at least one of those must have been at BMS), we find that Basket got creative for Labor Day that year: Slatersville Fishing Ramp, Burrillville. Good for him!

Skipping ahead a bit past the gaps in the Hash Trash, we next move to St Patrick’s Day 2001, and run #775. Dr WHO was scribe, and had not yet come to the peak of verbal diarrhea which has so afflicted him of late. This run was an A to B variant, commonly used when the hare was feeling exceptionally lazy. And then: July 4, 2001, run #791. Oozing, in his Blue period, was scribe. With brevity and yet with incomprehensibility, he describes a classic BMS run: North along the river, crossing the river, west and south crossing the river, etc. Time has not changed Burrillville “the place to be in the 21st century!” But what’s next? A seminal event, the 800th run, Sept 3, 2001. Scribed by Dr WHO, this write-up is singled out for its incomprehensibility and unnecessary length. Of course, the run represents another variation: a classic BMS run in reverse (clockwise) starting from Bella’s Restaurant to fool the RIH3. By all accounts, it worked. It certainly fooled the scribe!

Now our hare took a blissful hiatus from the BMS. He instead focused on the BHS. And the Slatersville Fishing Ramp. Not much better, but beyond the scope of this dissertation. So it is not until May, 2004 that we first encounter something new: the dreaded Burrillville Hat Trick! Runs #944, 945 and 946, ALL in Burrillville and two (virtually identical) in a row at the BMS! Personally, I cannot even bring myself to reread and possibly re-experience this trauma. Try it if you dare! But why not just skip ahead. Memorial Day, 2005. The 999th run of the RIH3. Where would you have it? Why not the BMS. This run was scribed by Dry Foot Fairy, the older scribes having run out of diplomatic things to say about these affairs. At least there are pictures.

I’m sure you’re as bored by all this as I am. So I’ll briefly describe the actual run. (Mathematically, it was #548 +(#945+#946)/2 * 791/999. To the third power.) In plain English (much like that used by Harold and the Saxons in 1066, when they said: “Fock ye Normans!”), the trail began as a simple counterclockwise loop, along the inner path next to the river heading north. Some falsies led across, but few were fooled. They turned west then south. Finally, the inevitable. They crossed the river. They went into some shiggy, and ultimately came out to a corn field, which they followed south briefly on its outskirts.( I believe there were several corn fields at Hastings. My people call it maize.) Fuwangi slowed to eat some corn. Shine On also took a few ears, for purpose uncertain. The time came to cross the river again. Dr WHO led across, and successfully diverted most of the pack by feinting back from true trail, claiming to have found a false mark.

They continued south on paths and into some shiggy. It wasn’t much, but it was sufficient for Wee Willie Wankie to get a Wee Sprainy Ankly. (The Normans had problems with many sprained ankles as they landed on the rocky Channel shores. Too bad the Chunnel wouldn’t be built for another 935 years.) The trail came out onto the mini-tracks of the railroad at Mr. Doughboys. They disrupted some mini-golfers, and spilled out onto the Bronco mini-Highway. (As far as I know, there were NO mini-golfers in the south of England in 1066. I believe golf itself was yet to be invented; this would occur several hundred years later, when the Scots became restive during a plague which killed most of the sheep in Scotland.) Led by the exasperated Dr WHO and the energetic Just Liam, they passed Bella’s, and turned left to find the BC at a power switching station just east of the restaurant parking lot.

The beer was easily found, and although a mixture of old bottled beers rather than the usual Trinity brew, the beer was enjoyed. (William the Conqueror was especially fond of ale.) Especially as Dry Foot and Fuwangi were missing. But even those two couldn’t be fooled forever, especially not in Burrillville. All present, the hare sent them off, claiming a Turkey-Eagle Split. This was found shortly east up the road. The Turkeys continued straight, while the Eagles did a short but meaningless counterclockwise loop down Walling Road, then back to Victory Highway, across some landowners’ yards, and north to the old RR grade parallel to the Bronco Highway. Never done that, before! The leaders blew away the hare, who had planned to stage the second BC in the junkyard. Forget it! The end was in sight.

They regrouped as usual in the back yard at 290 Snake Hill. The run was rated, and the hare sat on a bag of ice cubes. Pathetic! It was only the lack of Bondo, a sprained ankle, and many bimbos that prevented a total rout. Total: +0.69. The visitors and backsliders were then punished. The young Scots virgin was brought into the circle and onto the ice, causing a flutter of bimbos to one side of the circle to have a look at his assets. (Harold himself after his loss at Hastings was forced to sit on some ice before being hung, drawn and quartered. Too bad that never happens when Basket drops his drawers!) Finally, the ceremony ended, and they proceeded to a fine feast, with the brave (or more drunk) proceeding into the arctic pool to clean off. Another holiday, another Monday and another six hours wasted.

On On