Eenie-Weenie’s First Ass-fault-free Hash

Run #1096, April 2, 2007

Hare:  Eenie Weenie Dick

Location:  Wolf Hill, Smithfield

Weather:  40’s, cloudy, just after rainstorm.

Present:  Dr WHO, Amish It Head, Basket Boom Boom, Justin My Ass, Async, Oozing SD, Seamus. Virgin: Just John.

The Run:

The usual crowd of wankers made it to the starting point at a clearing on Mountaindale Road just opposite the dam at the end of the Woonasquatucket Reservoir. It’s not even worth attempting to list the number of times this place has been hared, but most were curious to see if the hare could set his first trail without annoying stretches of pavement. Basket arrived, and immediately started whining about the finger he had broken at last week’s superlative hash. JIMA showed up, and started taking pictures for some reason. Even a virgin showed. He had happened upon a beer check in Santiago, Chile, and unaccountably thought he might enjoy it here in RI. Little did he know what a gay time he would have. (Hoover, Swallows , EverReady, Mother Goose, Bungy , Fergie: please come back and rescue us!)

The run started on the dirt road following the reservoir north. Most of the marks were at least partly washed out by the steady light rains from earlier in the day. Naturally, Basket and Async immediately took the unmarked road heading up to the quarry. Like the rest of us didn’t know that that would be where the beer was! But these two were so pathetic that they couldn’t even find the beer and only ended up finding the latecummer, Oozing. The rest, led by Amish continued to the first check.

WHO and JIMA turned right, figuring that they might as well get the hill climbing started. Amish led the virgin north at the base of the hill on true trail. Soon enough (so as not to come out at the police station) trail turned right and uphill. But WHO and JIMA led out to the powerlines. They found true trail across the lines and soon became confused. WHO turned back out to the powerlines and continued south until he was drawn back in by the hare. Only to find trail leading back out again. At a check, WHO tried straight. He fell, loudly, to the inconsiderate amusement of JIMA. Fortunately, his camera was in his pocket. Amish found trail again on the powerlines. The marks were really washed out here, and some white paint blazes on a cross-country trail caused further confusion. But the hare stayed put on a rock, hinting. JIMA joined him to find a “BN” mark.

The “B” wasn’t all that “N”, though. Amish and WHO found trail southwest back to the quarry. Trail circled the upper rim of the quarry clockwise, where anyone not half-blind or not completely imbecilic could have EASILY found it. Fully expecting to find Async and Basket, they found the “B” instead, and after a bit of a hit from the thirsty hare, the beer was found and opened. The view was fine, and improved briefly by the sights and sounds of Async , Basket and now Oozing floundering around in the now dark quarry.

Songs were sung. Async joined the crowd on the narrow ridge atop the quarry cliff. Unfortunately, Basket and Oozing soon arrived as well. Basket immediately started whining about his pathetic broken finger from the brilliant hash just a week before. This was enough to put everyone off their beer, so they packed up and headed out, down the west side of the cliff to the dirt road. They crossed to the cars and quickly circled up.

Ratings for the run: the absence of pavement, the absence of Bondo and the fine views from the BC made up for the lack of lost hashers, as well as the lack of deaths at the BC. Total: +0.69! Hashit was initially given to WHO, but Async, sensing the impending loss of the sexual aid within the hashit (it has comforted him mightily over the last few weeks), expressed regrets that Bondo was not present. Obviously, the hashit went back to him, immediately. The virgin was queried, and came up with a joke. Religion came next, and the group headed out to the former Swampy’s. They behaved exceptionally badly. This is what happens when a virgin shows. If he shows up again, it’s his own damn fault.

On On