Run #1558 on February 8, 2016
The Super Bowl Recovery Hash
FedEx Parking lot at 5 Industrial Way, Warren, RI
Weather: Snow falling, blistering cold and a whipping wind. Not fit for man nor beast...perfect for the RIH3
Pack: Basket, Oozie, WHO, Just Heidi, Amish, Eticlit, Shemale, Wee Balls, Just Pat
Snow was falling all day and there was, already, 6 inches new snow on top of what fell over the weekend. The parking lot had just been cleared, but Shemale and I decided to take the uncleared entry way through the 6 inches. I wondered the last time Shemale got 6 in inches...but I digress. WIPOS finally arrived just as we were discussing about just leaving for the nearest pub and warm air. When asked about using our skis, the Hare said it would not be good. We took him at his word...maybe a mistake. WIPOS had parked on the opposite side of the FedEx lot and offered us a beer before starting out. We made our way over and, as we enjoyed the refreshment, a crazy Wanker, driving too fast, hit the brakes, and spun around, as he saw our torches. He slid silently beside WIPOS' car. it was Just Pat and he was learnin' to drive.
WIPOS explained his marks dramatically, by tying some ribbon around my arm and showing his postage stamps. This was going to be one of those trails and we started questioning our sanity of leaving home for another WIPOS Hash. It was too late to turn around, as someone asked what time it was and the reply was 6:35. The Hare pointed the direction out of the lot and we were off.
The trail led westerly toward the Palmer River. The brush was thick and heavy with briars...it was a typical WIPOS Hash for sure. I wasn't very enthusiastic about running, so I found myself behind WHO and OOzing, as we followed the snow compacted by foot and snowshoe. The wind was whipping the light snow into our faces like little slivers glass, but after a short complain by me, the Hare said it should be better when we get into the woods. He lied.
Amish found trail after the first check and led us around a small pond to a camping area. There were metal grills and a wooden box with an open-pit toilet seat on it. Inside was a lot of shit. No kidding, it was a real shit box, just like this trail. This was the Super Bowl, but there was a 'W' on it indicating we'd find some whiskey here. The Hare finally arrived and pulled a half empty pint of whiskey from a paper bag. He had small plastic shot glasses and offered some to anyone WHO was interested in it. By the time OOzing showed, it was all but gone. The Hare then pointed out the direction we should travel and we were obedient.
The trail seemed to follow an opening in the woods like an old power line, but I didn't see anything indicating it was now or ever anything but a clearing before we entered some really heavy briars along a soggy slog in the snow. The water was getting deeper and it became difficult to jump from one clump of snowy grass area to another. For the most part, I stayed dry, but often found WHO's heavy footprints identifying an area I should try to jump over. Soon the soggy footprints grew to puddles to large areas on the trail that you had to work hard to get around, and eventually found myself, along with most everyone else, getting wet to the ankles.