Ides of March Hash
Run# 1354
Date: March 12, 2012
Hare: Basket
Location: Fogarty Rehab Hospital, North Smithfield, RI
Weather: First Hash of Daylight Savingins and 70 degrees
Present: Crabby, Ass Quack, Oozing, DOB, Fuwangii, Rusty, WIPOS, Shemale, Crotch Tiger, Pussy Galore, Hairy, Bondo, WHO, Pubic, Donkey, Pat My Retard, Just Pat, Butt Plug, others
Hashit: OOzing, but I'll do it for him 'cause I've never done it to him.
The evening started with a sentimental journey to the rehab clinic in N Smithfield, there were thoughts of wet rocks, Bondo screaming with laughter and power lines. All of the foregoing could be from One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest, but neither animator nor film maker would ever make a movie about the RIH3. So, back to reality and run of the week
It was surreal in the parking lot, we were only day’s into the month of March and the temp was above 69 degrees. There were warning signs about blasting a mere few feet away and one could almost hear the scratching on the windows of those indoors at the rehab as they tried to join in the fun with us. They were teased with a warmish beer from the rear of Basket’s car, would you drink that if you had all the info? The second choice of the evening was to hang out with the cool people in front of Donkey’s all terrain vehicle with the “I climbed Jerimoth Hill and survived” bumper sticker. The time, you ask? It was only 6:13pm and still 17 mins before the 23 of us were to head out on what could be the very last run of the RIH3.
And so the magic minute arrived, She Mail led the pack down the side of the forest and on into the woods, but it turned out to be a short lived escapade as we were soon looking for hard hats to protect us as we ran through the construction/blasting site. A tad better than wearing an orange shirt in the woods, but no hat was needed to protect us tonight because we were invincible. That said, it was Bondo leading the way followed by WHO and DOB. Basket was hanging back a little and adding white flour on top of orange or red, sounded like a bunch of crap because he can’t see any of those colors anyway.
As we exited the “safety zone” we were back in the woods and found a check, Crabby led a group one way and Rusty checked another, only to find out that the hare didn’t mark all false trails and being “on tree” actually meant as much as having a Greek drachma. Short cutting ensued, Oozing was seen swinging from trees shouting things like 5.3 and Ooohwayyy a 5.8, this led to shouts from a distant construction worker WHO grabbed Oozies attention by uttering those immortal construction worker words “wuuAye”. A short conversation followed wherein said construction worker was not amused at the antics of the group, and threatened the short cutter with some time in rehab if he wasn’t more careful.
A break in the woods was seen ahead, AssQuack (him of stolen mug) was standing aloft a rock and uttering something along the lines of “they were on top of that hill over there, but they came back”. These are words only a true hasher can come up with, they mean nothing to the majority but to a select few they were words of wisdom. It signified a bad trail, direction changed and we were now running underneath power lines without the sound of Bondo’s horn. However, we still had the “white finger” to guide us, it resembled something rude but Crotch Tiger wore it gracefully and used it as a beacon as the sun began to set. A quick U loop off the trail and back again found us at the high point for the evening both physically and emotionally, it was that never to be forgotten beer stop atop the steep rocks. This overlooked masses of yellow equipment that was feverishly working away beneath us, as if they were mining for diamonds or some other precious metal.
The rhubarb rose and songs were sung, beer was passed about and more songs were sung and as things began to settle down Basket said that he had changed the on in direction to save us from a trip through the heretofore mentioned excavations. While all this was going on we were still missing Pubic, Pussy Galore and others. However, a quick search and a couple of toots of the horn found them making their way to the cliff face.
A short trail in brought us down the side of the hill, through miniscule shaggy and on in along the highway, and through the CVS parking lot. The ratings for the run dropped with every step forward, but things were going to get better as it was now dark and we could once again drink in public without ridicule from jealous onlookers.
The pack found a rock enclave and called it home for the duration of the circle, much merriment was had which included entertainment from the climbing duo of Basket and Oozing, a miserable attempt at breaking a dead log by DOB, and where the hell did WIPOS come from?? Donkey and Amish decided to huddle in the parking lot to avoid paying the $1 hash cash, and She Mail tried to impersonate Niagara Falls without success!! Hairy had a down down in front of a mirror, Pat my Retard did, and a newbie said he enjoyed himself which means we will never see him again.
A quick trip to the Lodge found us gorging on popcorn and gazing at the biggest bad ass side order plate of onion rings that one has ever seen. IPA anyone?? No, well let’s drink Assquacks Guinness while we wait.