Run #1663, The Burns Supper Hash Jan 22, 2018<br/>
Weather: A cool and rainy 36 degrees<br/>
Hare: Tird in the Beaver<br/>
Start point: Poppasquash Rd, Cold State Park, Bristol<br/>
Pack: Basket, WHO, Rusty, Frosted Fanny, Just Pat, Just the Tip, Butt Plug, Ass Quack, Crotch Tiger, Crabby Shag, Wee Crabby Shaggin', from the Way-Back Machine Sir Snotty, Two Timer Just Ashlee and Virgin Just Kim
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The Hare said this could be the wettest you get all week...and for those of us in kilts, it was enough to tickle our testis...that'd be Just Pat and I. Most were dressed in WIPOS gear. Hoodies, gloves and scarves tokes, with multiple layers. WHO was dress in pajamas. I guess he thought it was a sleep-over Hash. Other kilts did show later at the dinna. Crabby and AQ brought the wee one in new pickup truck...don't know the significance of that, but he had a smile from ear to ear when he saw the weird looking Hashers, then he got a little scared and grabbed mommy tightly. Frosted Fanny almost parked on the frozen pond...okay, so it wasn't much of a pond, but when we ran over the frozen surface some of us found it was deep enough to give us cold feet. The Hare said something about not enough camaraderie at the Hash lately, so he decided he'd lay no checks. The idea, (a bad one at that) was to make the Hounds call out more often so the pack stays together. FAIL! As you will find out reading this missive, the pack was strung out longer than the sausage casing we packed with Haggis the night before. It was more like a reverse poop. Instead of the shit flowing out, we were packing it in, and there was a lot of shit under foot on this trail.
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The Hare said that'd we find the trail leading off south toward Poppasquash Rd. A few marks of flour were seen, but it wasn't long before the FRB's realized the Hare wanted them to lead the pack away from the parking lot to lengthen the trail and cause confusion. OOzing found trail leading back easterly and that's the last I saw or heard of the pack for some time. During the confusion, I found flour on the back of trees along the bike path leading toward the park. I followed trail backwards for some time, often off track and having to retrace my steps to find the flour on the opposite side of the trees. I do this quite a lot, and afterward I'm amazed at how much longer I ran trail than if I had just stayed with the pack. 
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I ran past the carousel, where beer would have been found if there were marks, and continued on the traffic circle. From here I went on trails leading to the boat launch and than further yet to the Town Beach and Sport Complex. At some point just before exiting the woods, I heard the pack calling and I thought I might catch them before the Beer Stop. Finding trail running backwards at this point was almost impossible. Without checks, I just kept running looking behind trees and eventually had to go back to the last tree and try another direction. At the beach it was wide open with just a smidgen of flour dropped on ground or sometimes on trees that hadn't stuck and was only spotted by a smidgen on the ground. There were a couple kids playing hockey and making a lot of noise and music playing. I found flour going around the soccer field and then though the ball field complex. Finding flour here was almost impossible. I often amaze myself by my resourcefulness and tenacity. I saw lights coming out of the woods on the other side of the ball field and waited for the pack. 
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They were coming out of Beer Stop #1. Just the Tip was first, slipping in the soft mud running from first to home plate, in the ball field. Closely followed by Rusty and Butt Plug, there were a lot of whoops and hollers as the slick mud made travel interesting, for the observer and participants alike. I'm sure it will take the town weeks to repair the damage those bastards did to the field. The rest of the pack followed them and soon, I was back with the pack, running along the trail I traveled not so very long ago. Back at the traffic circle, the Hare laid flour to the Beer Stop. Just Kim had enough and went straight back to her car. I hope the pack did not discourage her with the lyrics of their singing at the Beer Stop. Just Ashlee as already been christened and was fully aware of what she got herself into At the second Beer Stop, Harpoon and orange food were enjoyed and songs sung. Last in was Crabby and Little Shag, asleep in the backpack, and OOzing sliding on ice and tripping over the rock wall. The beer was Harpoon, so I didn't miss too much at BS#1. We were soon off, running/walking towards our cars and the circle. <br/><br/>
The Hare got his DD for shitty trail and started the Masturbation Song. It didn't make it all the way around, and backsliders and two-timers were invited in. Frosted Fanny offered a weak couple of questions before voices from the pack made it so confusing that it didn't matter what the answers were. DD's done, Just Ashlee came out with a joke, that I wanted to remember, but I guess I forgot to take my B12. Hashit was next and Rusty stepped up to nominate someone deserving of the award. There were many good suggestions, but alas it fell on me. At least there is something for the Hash Trash to prove we were here and celebrated Robert Burns. Then we went to Aiden's Pub for a delectable delight...the Haggis. At least the Haggis I brought to the table resembled Haggis, sort of, or more like a tick sausage. On the other hand, it was so much better than the diarrhea mess the night before, when the Haggis makers decided to take the last link and boil rather than steam it. Falling apart, as I'm told, it was a haggis soup, watered down and nasty. The works of Burns was passed around and there were some interesting dialects in their rendition of the Scottish Bard...none better than WHO, BUT most were pathetic at best.