Run #1786:Phase 2! Rusty is baaack! <br/>

Where: virginal territory with start from some soccer/football field on Wyatt Rd, Middleton<br/>
Hare: Rusty the Turd<br/>
Hashers: Basket, Dr WHO, WIPOS, AssQuack, Just Pat, CrabbyShag, Just Lydia, the Hare, Just the Tip, Oozing, Just Hutch, Just Gable, Just Zepelin<br/>
Late Cummers: O'boner, Snatch Chat<br/>
Notable absentees : Frosty; Anhow's yer Bush; Head Hunter<br/><br/>
 
The Run:<br/>
There was a sense of excitement palpating through the lower GI of the worldwide hash community this Monday.<br/>
The governor was moving ahead on the social restrictions of gatherings with the hash in mind, allowing upto 15 wankers to congregate. But still keep your distance. But get together for activities. But stay far away from each other.<br/>
As a consequence of the pandemic, there have been a lot of positive developments in the world. You ask what? Well, Mother Nature has been given some respite, not breathing our daily petrol fumes, our noisy shuffling through life being halted has given birds a new voice, and staying away from each other has improved the general well-being of fellow hashers, deprived of the intellectually challenged conversations and the stench of emitting of noxious gases from each others nether holes.
But I digress....<br/><br/>
The Rhody hash limped its sorry arse through COVID-19, and even though not having a "traditional hash", the ever-forward thinking leaders of RIH3 maintained the hare-line, and each hare set their own unique hash, sometimes to devastatingly brilliant effect (not pointing fingers but looking at you, Oozing), and of course some somewhat a lame replica of a traditional annual event, that fell, let me say, very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very short of being a half decent attempt of the cinco de mustache .<br/>
In fact, Wikipedia notes that the RIH3 may have been the only hash to have NOT missed their weekly hash, in the entire hash world! Don't believe me? Check it out at http://www.eatmyshorts.com.<br/><br/>
Yet one digresses again. I wonder if frequently digressing from the topic at hand is an early symptom of COVID-19?
But alas, Rusty, has missed all these brave attempts at continuing this time-honored tradition and practice. And so he announced he was back! With fanfare! Virgin territory! Off the island! Champagne! Cheese n crackers! Captains Daughter! Shiggy! Shagging!<br/><br/>
And so it was with this backdrop of breathless anticipation (which may also be a symptom of COVID-19 possibly leading to the diversion to the hospital of many who were missing but had to get checked out), that the hash world waited for an announcement from the hare. Drumroll please..........<br/><br/>
Alas. Creativity is not one of Rusty's notable qualities. Indeed, he's been driving the same white VW car and wearing those same black Adidas shorts for the past 20 years. Supporting the same orange hair and sensitive skin to the sun for ages. Singing the same hash song since he was a wee lad wetting his nappy in Cork and Dublin. Same beer mug from the days of a unified Ireland.  You get the point.<br/><br/>
The hash would be from the Wyatt Footy fields in Middletown, again. For the COVID-19th time this year!
But that didn’t temper the mood and enthusiasm of the hash. "We're having a proper hash, for f sake!" they all shouted in gleeful unison.<br/><br/>
In fact, so over-enthused was the hash, and to be mindful of the numbers, Crabby, AQ, Just Hutch and Gable and Zeppelin decided to go do the trail early. And they did! Sadly, they were let down again from the hare who didn't leave behind a beer for them at the B.<br/><br/>
Most of the other pack arrived at the well-trodden parking lot of the fields early. Around 6pm, AQ and Crabby and family emerged back from the trail, looking, well, very clean! No dirty feet or bloody legs. They attempted to plea to the rest of us to keep our level of enthusiasm and optimism high, and to ditch the hash. But we giggled their forewarnings away.
At 6 turdy sharp, the hair pointed the arrow to the trail going south and parallel to the road and off we went, JTP darting away like a fiend on speed, his pretty friend Just Lydia attempting to keep up but decided to forgo youth for wisdom, and hung back with Dr WHO, followed by Basket, Just Pat, yours truly and WIPOS. The hare stayed back, clearly unto mischief.
The trail led down the familiar trail, turning left at end of field and straight, then right to a check. The trail at this point went through shiggy and to the right, as did the pack. Oozing decided to go left, cross the wooden bridge and follow trail leading unto the back of the Newport Vineyards, but turning left, and hitting an arrow that directed trail left/east again.<br/><br/>
The rest of the pack, cursing and cussing, went through the shiggy and briars, unto a few checks that all went eastwards until the next one, as above.<br/>
Here the trail went down again the familiar trail leading behind to the parked trailer truck, and then to another check. Mischiefly, the trail went north and then an arrow directed the pack through a thin opening in the brush, to a farm field,
Just Lydia, either tiring from his wisdom or too enamored by his charm, decided to part ways from Dr WHO and caught up with Oozing, JTP, and Just Pat behind her. Basket was joined with Rusty.<br/><br/>
Navigating a few fields, the trail took us through another swamp with shiggy, low lying briars which caught Oozy in the scalp leaving him bleeding and lots of skunk cabbage.<br/><br/>
Another field this time with lots of buttercups. Rusty regaled to this WHO would listen about the significance of this wild plant.<br/>
Through two more fields, an arrow through the brush, to the beer! Back behind the footy fields we started from!
Wipos and Dr WHO caught up with the pack. Beer and snacks were consumed.<br/>
Off to a distance, the pack heard the singing of a couple of dusty maidens singing the "buttercup song". Rusty quickly thought it a sign, of three beguiling nymphets his countryman Joyce had warned about in another odyssey of sorts.
After some time, there appeared O'boner and her wee sis SnatchChat!<br/>
There was more rejoicing and singing which led to jolly dancing, which caused Oozy to drop his beer by accident.
Beer consumed, the pack headed (WHO said?) to the cars.<br/><br/>
At the circle, yes there was champagne. But no cheese nor crackers.<br/>
Ratings were generally contradictory, which was to be expected, given the heightened enthusiasm mixed with the disappointment of similar terrain. But there were some new trails that made people smile again. So negative 69 it was!!
Down downs for the hare, visitors(none) and the returnees. Basket entertained with tree new questions to be asked which made the lasses giggle and their tits bounce. Which made the lads quite happy and horny again. And so the happiness restored.<br/><br/>
The hashit was bestowed upon the one who was happiest most, and danced the most spilling a little beer. Very unfair.
 <br/><br/>
The OnIn was pre-reserved by the forward thinking future hashit. The staff at Coddington Brewery were delighted to see their old mates again, and gave us lots of free beer and free brewery schwag. And again, there was much rejoicing and dancing and bouncing of the titties, but this time, Oozy kept an impeccable balance and did not spill his beer!<br/>
 
A fabulous night had by all!