Run# 1964<br/>
Date 16 October, 2023<br/>
Weather, Another rainy start to our Monday thing we do. Most used umbrellas from Crabby.<br/>
Start Location: The cul de sac at the end of Forest Road, we found a virgin start for the Harold B Clark Town Forest that abuts the Gilbert Hills<br/> 
Hash: Cracker's heading back to Antarctica again, and he wants to buy us a beer before he goes off to play with the penguins.<br/>
Pack: WIPOS, WHO, PG, Just Pat, Ass Quack and Basket<br/>
Hares: Cracker and Blue Job Lips<br/>
Basket was Hashit<br/><br/>

The trail according to Bard:<br/>
The trail running pack, consisting of PG, Just Pat, Rusty, WIPOS, Dr WHO, and Basket, gathered at the starting line in the dark forest, their headlamps illuminating the narrow path ahead. The rules were simple: O are checks, sending the pack in different directions until they found 3 marks of flour in a row. Then, they continued running until they found beer. Once they had their fill, they made their way back to their cars.<br/><br/>
The pack set off at a brisk pace, their headlamps bobbing in the darkness. They quickly came to the first O check, and the pack split up, following the different directions. Basket was the first to find three marks of flour in a row, and he took off running, excited to be the first to reach the beer stop.<br/><br/>
The rest of the pack soon followed, but Basket had a significant lead. He ran as fast as she could, his headlamp piercing the darkness. He was so focused on the trail ahead that she didn't notice the path split. He continued running down the wrong path, deeper and deeper into the forest.<br/><br/>
Meanwhile, the rest of the pack had reached the beer stop. They celebrated their victory with cold beers and raucous laughter. After a while, they started to worry about Basket. He was supposed to be the first one there, but he was nowhere to be seen.<br/><br/>
They decided to go out looking for him. They split up and searched the forest, but there was no sign of Basket. They were starting to get worried when they finally heard his voice in the distance. He was shouting for help.<br/><br/>
They followed his voice until they found him sitting on a rock, lost and exhausted. He had been running for over an hour in the wrong direction. The pack helped him to his feet and led him back to the beer stop.<br/><br/>
Basket was relieved to be back with the pack. He had learned his lesson: never run off on his own in the dark forest. The pack raised a glass to Basket's safe return, and they continued to celebrate their trail run with more beer and laughter.<br/><br/>
Basket's misadventure became a legend in the trail running community. He is now known as "Basket the Lost," and his story is a cautionary tale for all trail runners. But Basket doesn't mind. He is just happy to be alive and still be able to run.<br/><br/>

A retort to Bard from Basket:<br/>
Evidently, AI has yet to rise to the level of excellence we had hoped AI might offer. It's clear from the description of events of our 1964th Hash Bard falls short, and it just may be that it hasn't had enough interaction with Hashers to understand us yet. Rusty had previously used ChatGPT in the retelling of a Hash, and it seemed close to the actual events. This retelling of Cracker's Hash fell short on a number of points.<br/><br/>
The fact that Bard would think the Hash would raise a glass on Basket's return, instead of the complaints that followed his entrance to the Beer Stop was just one. In fact, as I approached the last intersection, I could see lights through the trees at a T intersection. I first went left and found no marks, then right and found no marks. I considered just bushwhacking to their lights as I could clearly see they were not too far off, and could hear them giggling that I was still lost. I decided to try left again, and after some hundreds of feet, I saw an arrow pointing in the general direction. It was only then that I noticed their lights were reflected off the surface of the Upper Reservoir at Lake View Pond. Had I tried to go through the woods, I'd have sunk deeply into the drink. In my exhausted condition, I most likely would have been lucky to survive. I finally did arrive at the Beer Stop, not to cheer for my arrival, but instead comments like, "Out of beer, out of here", "What took you so long?", "Are you going to get lost every week?", "We've been waiting for 40 minutes."<br/><br/>
We were soon off again to finish the Hash<br/><br/>
At the Circle, we gave bonus points to Blue Job Lips (OOzing said we renamed her Swamp Douche, but I'll have to have someone confirm that.), for almost losing Basket and setting a good trail. Cracker's contribution was minimal, so it was averaged as a Good One. We quickly moved to Hashit. I suppose I deserved it, getting lost 2 weeks in a row, in roughly the same area, so I accepted it graciously. After religion, we drove to the Chieftains, where I enjoyed a lovely liver and onions dinner before driving home having survived yet another night in or near the Gilbert Hills.