Amish's Snake Den Hash<br/>
10/24/22<br/><br/>
It was a dark and foggy, and unseasonably warm, night. <br/>
Amish set trail in an area well-known to those half-minds among us who frequent the Hash, Snake Den. Against my better judgment (which is how I end up at every Hash) and ALSO against the instructions provided by the Hare's meticulous Flow Chart, I pulled into the north parking lot at approximately 6:23 pm. I managed not to hit any rocks, or hashers, and grabbed my headlamp and whistle and got out of my spaceship car.<br/>
As most of our fall and winter trails, this was a completely penis-centric trail until I arrived, another sign that I had made a poor choice. <br/>
At the start were: WIPOS, WHO, Basket, Rusty, Oozing, and possibly a few others, I don't remember.<br/>
Then just before pack away time, another spaceship  car arrived with none other than our most recently injured hasher, Donkey, and Pubic, who I can only surmise accompanied him to intercept any more attempts at self-harm on trail. <br/>
After some yammering on, we struck out into the fog and looked for trail. Almost immediately half of us thought we knew where we were going and ended up off trail. This would become the theme of the evening, as you will see.<br/><br/>

I was stumbling around for a bit until I found some actual flour and not tree sap or moss and was thankfully on trail for a good chunk of time thereafter. During this time I observed Basket on a trail to the right of me at the bottom of the hill with Rusty straggling along behind. Clearly he'd forgotten the first rule of hashing: Never Follow Basket.<br/>
Anyway, I was pretty sure I was lost at one point because the fog was so dense, but eventually did meet up with Basket, who HAD taken an actual legitimate short cut after all. Of course at that point we were all off trail but the Hare emerged suddenly from a cloud of mist nearby and assured us "it's fine, you'll hit flour again soon."<br/>
And we did.<br/><br/>

And then we found a check. I heard Basket calling on on from the right and followed that. He was not, in fact, on. Eventually we both determined that the white splotches were lichen and not flour and turned around and went back to the check, which we found marked to the left. At this point the pack had become separated enough in the dense fog that once I ran ahead of Basket, I was once again completely alone.<br/>

Finally I caught up to Donkey and Pubic  who were navigating a rocky hill (always a tricky feat in wet conditions, with a walking boot and a mobility aid) and was back on the trail. Again, I got ahead and was completely alone. Luckily, by the time I was checking my third check at the top of one of the bluffs, Basket and Rusty caught up with me and we got to run around precariously in the fog by the cliffs before realizing the trail did indeed go down a rocky gully. After some lovely bruises were obtained by the rocks and the descent to the rest of the pack, off we went again.<br/>
I was checking and sure I was on after seeing a light ahead of me calling on on, when I was called back by the Hare to a partial bushwhack that sent us scrambling up another rocky hillside in ever-thickening fog. I put the spooky light and the "on on" out of my mind as the dulcet tones of Donkey complaining that Amish was trying to permanently damage his leg wafted up the hillside and the scattering of many rocks Rusty was causing to careen down the hillside combined to make a creepy journey into a border-line harrowing one. 
<br/><br/>
At the top there was more checking and scrambling and then once again I was alone in the woods.<br/>
And then I remembered the "on on" I'd heard and the light I'd seen where there had been no trail. And ran a little faster. And stopped to make sure the marks were really marks of flour. And ran along some more. And heard absolutely no other sounds when I paused to check the marks besides my breathing and the dripping trees.<br/>
And maybe ran a little faster.<br/>
Just as I checked another mark on a rocky ledge, my light flickered.<br/>
I scrambled upward along the mossy rocks to the next mark. And just as my light flickered again, I saw the B.<br/>
And my headlamp promptly perished.<br/><br/>
And I was alone. On the top of a mossy damp rock in the fog in the woods. So I pulled out my cell phone and made sure I knew where the rock was, and turned off my phone to save the battery.<br/>
I stood there, with the rock to my back in complete darkness, and waited.<br/>
Just about the time that I was considering my life choices, a light bobbed over the edge of a hill. And then another.<br/>
And another. Not gracefully gliding between the tree trucks, but bobbing up and down and shouting.<br/>
Oh good. The pack.<br/>
I called out that I was on. And WHO but the Hare should climb up the rocks to me and when I informed him that my light had died, he tossed me his and said "well, go find it!"<br/>
I found the beer and did NOT fall off the cliff, we took the beer back down to the cripples others and eventually the remainder of the pack emerged from the fog to gather around the beer and snacks.<br/><br/>
Except WIPOS.<br/>
We sang many a tune.<br/>
No WIPOS.<br/>
Finally it was "out of beer, out of here" and we set off (myself now with the Hare's headlamp) down the Out Trail lead by Donkey.<br/>
Without WIPOS. I was now pretty sure I had heard him calling On On and seen his light earlier and it was all nothing at all but fog and darkness.<br/>
That didn't last long and soon enough Basket and I were leading the pack as we ambled back through the woods. Suddenly the Hare called us back, but I was SO SURE that I knew where we were, and I was just far enough ahead, that I kept going down the trail. Basket, it should be noted, turned back and listened to the Hare.<br/>
Oh no, I was so sure they were on the same trail we came in by that I knew they could pop up over the hill on my right at any minute. Because, obviously I was on the trail Basket had shortcutted along earlier.<br/>
At any minute.<br/>
Surely any minute now.<br/>
How slow is Donkey?<br/>
Wait, did one of them break Donkey?<br/>
Wait... where am I?<br/>
Luckily, I hadn't used up my cell battery trying to scare away spirits and haints, so I stopped walking and took it out.<br/>

It was really, really quiet in the woods.<br/>
Strava informed me I was heading directly away from the cars and was absolutely not where I thought I was.<br/>
Did I mention the fog had been only getting thicker as we walked back and that now I was nearly a mile from the cars and absolutely alone?<br/>
Well, it was, and I was. <br/>
I turned around, put my cell safely in my pocket and ran back to the cars.<br/>
The entire way.<br/>
I did not look to the left nor to the right.<br/>
I certainly did NOT look behind me or pause to listen to the water dripping on the leaves.<br/>
I ran.<br/>
And arrived back at the cars before WIPOS who was still missing.<br/>
Somehow I ended up being named the Hashit despite avoiding possession and abduction by the haints of the hollows of Snake Den.<br/>
I encountered WIPOS on the road on the way home. He declined transport back to his car. Clearly he wasn’t lost at all but had other dealings in the foggy woods that he preferred to keep to himself. Someone should check if he has a reflection, but only on one of those old mirrors. With the silver backing.<br/>
The deer is looking very soggy in my garage at present.<br/>
The moral of the story is this: Never Follow Basket UNLESS he's following the Hare. Also: Never try to one-up Basket by thinking I know a shortcut he doesn't.<br/>
On On - PG<br/><br/>
Sent from my iPhone, therefore some typos may occur, due to frequent hand washing (thanks covid) my fingertips occasionally no longer register on the screen. 
Wash your hands.