The start for this one was from the middle of nowhere, South Kingston, next to the Acela tracks, next to a junkyard of old trucks, and across the tracks (and two fences) from what appeared to be some very nice trails. It was just north of URI, so Fuwangi couldn’t show, given what he owes on his library books. But a surprisingly large crowd managed to squeeze their vehicles into the dirt road at the end of Stony Fort Road by 6:30, including the long time backslider Cumsocket To Me.

Trail started out east, crossed the road and went straight into shiggy. Nice! It turned southeast, and then back east on some trails finally. There were a few good checks. By this I mean they were not WIPOS checks with 50 marks leading to a false. There was a long loop east to the Old North Road, which had Basket running up and down the road, while Just Spencer and WHO looked skeptically on, and the rest, led by Amish and Just Colin, found true trail doubling back.

Trail now headed south. It eventually looped back north and then west to a feint near some URI parking areas. True trail led north to the beer check. Amazingly, all the hashers made it in, and the beer was found rather quickly for a WIPOS run. Songs, beer, etc., etc., yada, yada, yada. And then they were off, west to some fields.

Trail led out to the road, but there was considerable disorientation. The first impulse (to turn south) was wrong. It only took a half mile to convince the pack of this. They turned back north to the cars. The circle was formed. The run was rated. Bimbos, backsliders, beer and briars. And no Bondo. Total +6.9! The backslider was punished. Yet again the dreaded “Tonga(?)” song came out. Hashit was given to Amish. Don’t even ask.

Finishing up, the hare informed them that the On On On was to be at Ocean Mist, in Matunuck! More miles south before we could lay our weary heads to rest! Attempts at protest drew snarls and growls of a most vicious nature from the hare. The angry, angry hare! So those that could not think quickly enough to excuse themselves to pick up a friend at the airport were forced to drive yet further south, eat mediocre food and questionable beer at a poorly cleaned table, and watch Oozing get picked up by a sixty-ish woman with fake boobs and body odor. Home for most, would wait until 1 AM. We’re getting too old for this.