Sneech Pond Hash

Run #1113, July 30, 2007

Hare:  Fuwangi Boner

Location:  Sneech Pond, off Mendon Rd, Cumberland

Weather:  High 80’s, partly cloudy (with scattered showers, none of which arrived in time to obscure marks or at least provide some relief from the heat, for cryin’ out loud!)

Present:  Dr WHO, Bondo Jovi, Eenie Weenie Dick, Basket Boom Boom, Oozing SD, Seamus, Ben.

The Run:

The hare had forgotten that he was on for this week’s hash, until he got a voice mail from Basket Sunday evening. (Thus, with no time to think, he laid a better trail than any of his more prepared recent hashes. Thinking, of course, is more of a euphemism than an actual process for this hare.) At 6:15 he emerged from the woods, and came into the parking lot at the start. He had thistle rash and mud on his legs, scratches on his arms. He applied more bug repellant, and whined about the sting as he sprayed. It was starting to look good. But looks can be deceiving. He looked at the poor attendance, and stuffed a few beers and some ice into his knapsack. Not many beers. Not a good sign. He borrowed some flour from Dr WHO. Not a good sign, either.

The “pack” was off at 6:30. At this point, it consisted of EWD, Dr WHO and Bondo. And the always annoying Ben. Trail led northeast up Staples Road. The first check had Dr WHO and EWD turning left and uphill on the powerline trail. After a quarter mile with two marks they turned back. Boy, did the hare get them! Ha Ha! Back on pavement, they continued uphill, to catch the FRB Bondo. Another check had WHO trying right, Bondo and EWD continuing straight and the hare chatting up a suburban housewife. Ultimately, they bowed to the inevitable, and turned left and uphill to the water tower.

Now trail was fairly simple and meandered with a few meaningless checks northwest on motorbike/ATV paths. Many marks were torn up by tire tracks. But with no difficulty Dr WHO pressed on until he found a “WN”, and then in an opening on the gas pipeline, a “W”. Knowing the alcohol-dependent nature of the hare, he waited. EWD arrived. The hare arrived, and broke out some bourbon in a flask. Noting the sweatiness of the pack, he offered a beer which was accepted. But then Basket arrived. It was only with some difficulty that the pack could restrain Basket’s usual tale of short-cutting, shiggy-tracking, etc. Too late! Bondo arrived. The hare started to whine about there not being enough beer at the BC. Understandable, given the huge pack size of FOUR WHOLE HASHERS!

Dr WHO decided that this meant that he had better not be last to the BC, so he started out. Trail led pretty much northwest on the pipeline. There was a wee bit of mud. But it was very easy to avoid. Trail turned west onto West Wrentham Rd. where a check led WHO and EWD southwest. A brief falsie on Westgate had WHO at the back of the pack again. Basket and EWD led south into an infamous orchard where in the past, shotguns had greeted the hashers. This time, all was well, even for WHO and Bondo, and even Oozing who stopped to chat with the owners by the time he got there. Do property owners have no self-respect these days? Allowing hooligans, dogs and Bondo onto their property? A sad commentary on the plight of the farmer in RI that they are too insecure to let some rock-salt blast at trespassers! But I digress.

At the back of the farm, they re-entered the woods at the powerline trail. This was overgrown with thistles and briars, but by the time the back of the pack made it through, the effects of the hare setting and Basket and EWD following the trail had cleared a nice path. Southeast on the powerline, the hare called back the pack, to turn into the woods to the left. Basket in front, ignored this for a while. To his chagrin. The hare led EWD and WHO (with the liberal reapplication of WHO’s flour) parallel to the lines. Soon, he lost his own trail, explaining that he had run out of flour and had had to use chalk. Chalk on rocks, specifically. Works well for bushwhacking through dense underbrush with NO VISIBLE ROCKS whatsoever.

Finally, the hare led them to the powerline road, where there was a “B”. And a parked truck belonging to some fishermen at the shore who did not appreciate Ben. Well, neither do we! The limited beer supplies were divied up. Three beers for the hare, Basket, EWD and WHO. Brilliant! Especially when Bondo finally arrived. No wonder there was no singing this night. Their throats were too parched! Luckily for everyone, Oozing never made it.

Trail out led back to Staples Rd. and to the cars. Oozing’s car was there, so brief consideration was given to waiting. But they decided that with luck they could get away without seeing him at all this night, so they started the circle. Ratings for the run: not enough shiggy, not enough beer, no bimbos, recycled territory and no gunfire. It seemed conclusive until Bondo let loose with an astounding 15 “F” rating! This brought the total to -0.69! Hashit was this close to remaining with Basket until Oozing arrived. He claimed to have run the entire trail. Ha! Reason enough for hashit!

Finishing up, they went to Tucks, minus Bondo (who needed a wank) and Oozing (who will soon be renamed P.W. Oozing S.D., unless he either gives his new girlfriend a rest, or brings her to the hash). The usual waitress was on vacation, so they remained subdued. About the only thing of note for the entire evening was the masterful summing up by Seamus, the Grand Master. Just before everyone left for the night, Seamus left his master, crossed the entire parking lot over to the hare’s car and spent several minutes releasing a huge quantity of urine on the hare’s left front tire. There was even enough to trickle 25 yards downhill to hit both his masters’s car and beyond to Dr WHO’s car. I think that says it all.

On On