Dicking Around in Arcadia Hash

Run #1342, December 19, 2011

Hare: Dicks on Broadway

Location: Arcadia.

Weather: Clear and low 40's.

Present: WIPOS, Dr. Who, Oozing, SheMailMan, Wee Balls, Donkey Punch, HoleMinersDaughter, Pubic Housing, Assquack, Crabby Shack, Crouching Tiger, Flobanger, Just PJ, COSYG.

Hashit: Donkey Punch

The Run:
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The run started with a large crowd in the parking lot, considering the temperature and the location.  After milling around for approximately 15 minutes past the designated start time, someone yelled “ON OUT” and the pack scattered in 10 different directions.  At this time Dicks could be seen giving a chalk talk to the visitors and virgins, indicating checks, backs checks and false trails, which turned out to be very ironic due to the fact that: Dicks set no false trail marks, no back checks and very few actual checks, leaving the pack to determine changes in direction by instinct rather than actual marks.

For those who have run a Dicks trail in the past know the trails have a tendency to be short and to the point (maybe you remember such hits as the “straight up the hill and back down” run at Diamond Hill or the “Straight out the bike path and back” in Cumberland runs).  MY expectation was that the trail may not go farther than the parking lot. However Dicks can surprise you (as any Harriett can attest).

The trail wound through a series of trails with several tricky checks and several areas where the trail branched off in several directions with no checks, causing mass hysteria and a good amount of whining (mostly from myself). After approximately 35 minutes of wandering aimlessly through the woods, the FRBs came across the hare standing in the woods calmly waiting for the pack, and kindly directed them to a poorly marked trail that stretched into the wilderness.  After crossing a road and battling more shiggy the FRB pack were confronted with a strange marking indicating pack arrows that go in two directions.  One appeared to go directly into a half frozen swamp, the other wound around on a manicured trail.  It seemed logical to me that the trail would be the wiser choice and it was. It gently led the pack around the swamp up a short hill to the beer stop.  For some strange reason the remainder of the pack saw the FRBs on the hill and decided that the swamp route was the shortest route to the beer stop.  For the next 15 minutes, head lamps and whining of hashers stuck in the swamp could be seen and heard.  At one point, Basket’s horn could faintly be heard in the distance, however after 20 minutes of vigorous singing, Basket never made it.  The pack did a rousing rendition of “what’s going to make my rhubarb rise”, which seemed to confuse and terrify the visitors and virgins.

After the beer stop, the hare indicated there was no out trail,  just “go back to the road and turn right” were the directions back.  With the lack of markings, the swamp and the no out trail the trail suddenly had the smacking of a mini-WIPOS trail, with all the potential problems that go with it.  Unfortunately the entire pack returned safely to the start, still with no sign of Basket!

The end circle started without a hitch, Donkey Punch made his annual appearance as Donkeyclause.  Approximately half the circle rated the run, when low-and-behold, Basket’s light and horn were seen coming up the drive.  Basket quickly regaled us with his adventures through the woods, finding the beer stop, not finding the pack and not finding an on-out trail.  From his description, it sounded like the Basket alternative trail was better than the actual trail.  Yet somehow the trail was generally rated high, with several hashers making bad math puns having to do with the natural log of 69.  All of the harrietts indicated they liked (or in some instances LOVE) Dick, however some were dissatisfied with the length. Overall the trail received a high rating that equaled out to approximately -69. 

The visitors were called into the circle.  The two visitors from the Carolina Trash were wearing kilts, however they were easily convinced (or possibly duped) into removing them.  To great surprise and some disappointment, Chk CHk was wearing nothing but what god gave him, however Ginger was wearing another layer.  Many of the Harriett’s at the hash were bemused by the nudity.  I think the problem steamed from the fact that it was the first non-septuagenarian, non SheMale wiener that has been seen at the hash in some time and they were unsure as to stare or look away.  The visitors were asked several nonsensical question which they ended up not answering. When called upon to sing a song, they were so intimated by the ruckus singing display at the beer stop they could only come with as, “head – who said head”

Basket was the obvious choice for hashshit, however it went to Donkey Punch for dressing like Santa.  Santa brought the entire hash a gift of a shot of Irish Cream to and a toast to the hash.  Donkey sang “Hot Virginia for your breakfast” which was met with a round of jumping up and down yelling “I love this song” and which broke down into a Chinese fire drill.

Over all good trail, good beer stop and good circle

Donkey and Pubic could have sworn they heard the location of the on-in and ended up at the Ocean Mist so they cannot attest to what happened next.   

 

On On