Run #1605 Why does it F*CKING Snow Again Hash<br/>
Time: 6.30 pm <br/>
Hare: WIPOS<br/>
Start: Near Seekonk Library <br/>
Pack: Rusty, Basket, Pussy Galore, Two Turds of a Beaver (or whatever his name is now) and Molly, Weeballs, Buttplug
<br/>Hashit: Buttplug
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The start of the run was so well hidden, almost everybody missed it. But a few unfortunate souls somehow managed to discover the hidden parking lot, one even going so far as to park at the library and walk down looking for it (of course this was Rusty).<br/><br/>

As the Trail started, the pack made its way back to the pond where Basket once fell in through the ice. After a short time we reached the Whiskey stop along it's shore, and for about an hour we picked through the massive pile of garbage looking for the whiskey, until the hare finally shows up and reveals it's been in his pocket the whole time. Typical. We enjoyed the not-as-terrible-as-fireball whiskey and watched Basket wander around lost on the opposite side of the pond, apparently having flashbacks to falling through the ice.<br/><br/>

After the Whiskey stop the trail continued on in standard WIPOS fashion, following the clean and premade trails with the occasional check thrown in. Eventually a bag was spotted, right next to the B mark. But surprisingly, the bag only contained a bundle of sticks, perhaps a reference to the wanker who found it. Eventually the beer was found, and the hare showed up and started a fire, over which the pack enjoyed many beers and handfuls of orange food (until it was tainted by Rusty shoving his gloved hands into the bag).<br/><br/>

When the fire died, both of natural causes and from the emptying of several hashers' bladders (during which no streams were crossed), the pack moved out. Eventually the check-heavy out trail descended into bushwacking where marks were difficult to see amongst the snow, and the pack quickly got lost in the woods behind the houses of some poor innocent families who were undoubtedly annoyed. Several times the pack decided to follow the hare, only to realize he had forgotten his own goddam trail. <br/><br/>

Finally the pack made it back to the circle and had the standard down downs (and one for Molly for backsliding). Buttplug was named hashit (and I remembered to do a writeup this time), we discussed the Ski Hash and Christmas Hash, and left for the on-after at Sullivan's Publick House where we ruined trivia for everyone there.<br/>