From what I can remember of this dismal affair, its major drawbacks were 1). its being only the second trail laid by one WIPOS who obviously was never blessed with a true Wormie trail before, and 2). the presence of Basket who failed, after repeated requests, to provide a commemorative T, only to show with some lame "posters" that ended up serving as tampons at the On-On. Highlights included: 1) presence of Beantown Hashers Trail Hoover and Shine-On who, between them, have provided RI with enough sexual favors to fill the new downtown "Wall"; 2). a rare appearance by Little Neck whose runs look good compared to WIPOS’; 3) Tinker and Oozing both of whom, the next day, graced us with their bubbling personalities at the Snot-Club, and finally, 4) the return of yours truly, yes the Worm in person, bringing joy and orgasmic chills to Shine-On in particular, the vessel who carries the Glow Worm child, the first infant in history to be visible in the ultrasound carrying a bag of flour…

Anyway, we set out on the Bike Path in East Prov, halfway across the GW Bridge before we realized that the Hare was still setting the trail, backtracked to where he was placing a BN sign in front of this pub, and in we went. We somehow managed to stay out of the way of fisticuffs (people were already getting nervous about the Red Sox-Yankees that night), and sang songs over our Buds…off to the beach to a highly romantic beer stop overlooking the Field’s Point Sewer Plant, but great singing and howling at the moon. There still seems to be a little problem with the RI Choir’s ability to grasp the concept of "… cum-on-ya, cum-on-ya, in Russian that means I love you…" but practice, practice, practice, boys and girls.

On-Back to the cars and into the woods for a rousing Circle highlighted by my own personal, rock-n-roll rendition of "Friggin on the Riggin" and then a great debate on the On-On location, sort of a multiple choice moment at which the Hounds were given false information by the confused Hare and expected to vote on the site. Obviously we did the wrong thing because this Dugout Place should have been filled in a long time ago—can you say, "dingy basement?" I now know why in my 20+ years in Little Rhody, I never made it to this spot… anyway, the microwave got the food at least defrosted, the beer was disgusting, I got my "poster" autographed and the Red Sox managed to pull it out, so I’ll rate it a solid 0.69. Tinker and I had good laughs (mostly at Basket’s expense) on the way home to my beloved Wickford, so the evening was not a total waste, although the RIH3 remains one, as always…

On-On to Machu Pichu, Betty Ford and wherever else your travels may take you, including Texas (next door to Al-b-cracky) for America’s Interhash in 2001.

Respectfully submitted, Wormie