The scheduled hare had begged off (some lame girlfriend-related excuse. As if the all-gay RIH3 wasn’t enough for him. MARCO!), and Basket had jumped in to substitute. That’s TWO injuries that Amish will have to pay for! The start was in the Double-D parking lot just before Rt. 116 on Rt 7. Virgin territory. For about 25 yards.

At 6:30 promptly, they were off. Trail led behind the Dunkin’ Donuts southwest, paralleling the George Washington Highway. There was some light shiggy, and trail was promptly lost. Most came out onto the road and continued, assuming that they would enter the woods on John Mowry Road, or perhaps even continue down to the 116 bridge. But the few that actually followed trail (Rusty, Fuwangi and Foaming Head) found marks crossing the road, and proceeding north on the powerlines.

Trail led across Rt. 7. It led up hill on the gas pipeline. Fuwangi couldn’t believe that the trail could be this short. So he led the FRB’s right past the well-concealed “B” and continued into the Hanton City Woods. Ha, Ha! WHO knew it would pay to be so slow. The BC was reached by the rest of the pack, and the beer found, and opened. A few desultory efforts were made to call the bastards back. Luckily, they were out of earshot.

Having enjoyed their beer and a few songs, the hare indicated that they were to continue southeast. A brief trip in the woods proved to be too much exertion for the pack. So they simply turned down a nicely paved and well-lit road (that was obviously the beginning of a new development that would further urbanize some previously fine hashing territory.) Coming out on Rt. 7, they went back to the cars.

It was dark enough to circle up in the field behind the cars. Ratings for the run: no bimbos, pitiful shiggy, pavement, and the presence of Bondo Jovi were powerful negatives. But the loss of the FRB’s, the shortness of the run, and the ever-present fondness of the RIH3 for powerlines made the total: +0.69. Hashit went to Basket, as he had claimed throughout that Amish was really the hare responsible for this mess.

After a brief vote, it was decided to skip Parentes (not as many tight pants, these days) and head to Effins. Food and more beer were shared. Bondo ruined the evening by actually attending the On On On. His wife must have been out of town. And afterwards, the hash promoted good-will by helping out a guy in the parking lot whose radiator hose had broken. What is the world coming to?