Fourteen hashers showed up for a Bondo run. This is ridiculous! What were they thinking? The only excuse was that it was a lovely day, and the start was not, for once, from Bondo’s house. Regardless, it shows extremely bad judgement. Don’t let it happen again!

From the parking area at the Blackstone Gorge, in Blackstone, MA, trail led south. Only the fleet of foot and the exceptionally stupid followed trail. Wee Balls, Flexi and WHO led on what proved to be an annoying and unecessary loop, coming back to just below the dam, where they saw Async and Amish crossing the river, knee deep and slipping. The rest soon followed. Trail bushwhacked up to a dirt road, parallel to the river west.

The sounds of watercraft could be heard in the river. When a check offered the opportunity, several of the hasdhers turned right towards the sounds, only to find a false mark. WHO would be stupid enough to try to bushwhack along the banks to try and head off the hare? WHO led a group of Flexi, Just Nick and Just Spencer through what would prove to be the only shiggy on the run. At least they got something for their troubles.

Back on the dirt track, limited marks were seen as they continued west. Finally, a check led north to some railroad tracks. A family of hikers was coming from the west. So the pack turned away and came to the adjacent railroad bridges of the NE trunkline and the Providence-Worcester RR. No marks. They turned back and asked the family if they had seen any white powder. Yes, they had. So on west they went, and found the next mark, finally turning towards the river. Heading to the water, the beer check was discovered by the Millville Lock.

The hare was there, along with Jovi Juice and a small flotilla of canoes and kayaks. The beer was opened. Late cummers began to straggle in. WHO was late? Well, maybe a little, but not like Basket. Or Retard. Or Wrung Guy. Or, in fact, the family of hikers who had actually bee looking for the Millville Lock. (Songs were temporarily halted for the sake of the children.) Unfortunately for the family, Wrung Guyhad chosen a singularly garish and visually painful pair of shorts for this run. All were appalled. Perhaps he should be re-named: Wrung Shorts?Last in: Flobanger. Almost no beer was left. But Basket and WIPOS had their usual fight in the mud, occuring almost inevitably when the particular combination of Basket, WIPOS, canoes, and mud is present.

On-back, a few chose the water route. The rest settled for following trail backwards. WHO and WIPOS were in one canoe, Bondo and Just Nick kayaked, and Amish went with Jovi Juice in another canoe. This provided an opportunity for the rest of the pack to hurl projectiles and/or bodily fluids from one or both of the railroad bridges. Luckily, their aim was off, and/or the hare had not provided enough beer to fully recharge their bladders.

Finally back at the cars, the circle was announced to be at Basket’s, not the lazy hare’s. What a wank! They drove back into Glendale, and after an interminable wait, circled up. The run was considered an outstanding run for this hare. This brought it up to a level of ALMOST MEDIOCRE! Total: +0.69! A block of ice was provided and contaminated by the hare. Visitors and backsliders were punished, all eager to avoid the brown stain on the ice. Hashit was given to Amish. For cryin’ out loud, do you think I can remember why? A fine meal of Dynamites, chili and Bondo brew brought the evening to a satisfying although ultimately bowel-cleansing end.