Run # 790 July 2, 2001

Hare:  Bondo Jovi

Scribe:  Dr WHO

Where:   Joe's Rock, West Wrentham, MA

The Weather:  Mid 70's, clear

Present:  Basket Boom Boom, Short Peck, Oozing, Async, Dr. WHO, WIPOS, Shine On.

Visiting: Trail Hoover.

Virgin:  Just Rob.

Representative for Management: Baxter.

Commemorating: 357th Anniversary of the Battle of Marston Moor.

Hashers began to gather early at the parking lot at the trail head southeast of Joe's Rock [a famous local outcropping of note Joe's Rock was the first 'Pet' rock domesticated and trained in the late 1950's, since tragically abandoned by Joe when Marilyn left him for John]. Shine On arrived early, in a haze of steroid psychosis caused by her attempt to cure herself of poison ivy which she encountered while recruiting for the RIH3 in Boston. She soon began to recruit at this hash also. Just Rob, out to test his 100%-guaranteed-mosquito-proof tattoos, was strangely interested, and left briefly to get his bicycle. Sync and Short Peck, both with professional gear, began speaking alternately in Italian and French, telling tales of their last 'Tour de Woonsocket'. Dr. WHO demonstrated his masculine self-assurance by riding his wife's 'girlie' bike in circles in the parking lot, crashing into cars. WIPOS was practically naked, in shorts and a kevlar T-shirt. Oozing and Trail Hoover arrived surreptitiously, with the echoes of Pakistani curses in their ears. Bondo surveyed the crowd, and muttered something about beer-stops, but provided those interested with some Canadian Ale in paper medicine cups usually reserved for antacids or laxatives. All awaited Basket and Baxter, whose imminent arrival was guaranteed by Short Peck. He finally arrived, suffering from a fulminant toxemia caused by the blood poisoning in his system from the previous week's hash. No one could tell the difference.


The trail began heading across West road, south on dirt paths. A field filled with opium poppies was entered, marked by a large flour-covered turd specially provided by Bondo during the setting of the hash. The narcosis induced by the field would come in handy later on. Continuing south, avoiding the Emerald City, the woods were entered and some mild mud was encountered as the crew worked their way south and East. Async, after a head start, maintained the lead until he became fatigued. Strategically, he began to draft on the Clydesdalean posterior of Dr WHO. He soon realized his mistake when Dr WHO's front wheel, seeing a sizable down slope ahead, declined to go further. Unfortunately, his rear wheel was quite gung-ho at this time. It was only the catlike reflexes and low-slung bar of the 'girlie' bike which preserved The Dr's ability to sing 'Old Man River' in the shower. Oozing and Trail Hoover in the meantime, led the way into the first real shiggy in the form of deep and viscous mud completely covering the low lying areas of the trail. Trail Hoover would lead through with a minimum fuss. Oozing would get a mighty start, get completely mired, and would then topple over sideways into the muck. It must have been intentional. Just Rob, a late starter, reportedly made it to the first real shiggy. He was worried that mud might spoil his pirate costume, so he turned back to join the crew at the down down. Short Peck and WIPOS, keen-eyed and thirsty, discovered a B in the trail. And another, and another. And another. And another. But not a hop or a malt to be seen. This tragedy constituted 'humor' in the sick and twisted mind of Bondo Jovi.  Basket spent 30 minutes riding a search pattern around each B, exhausting the beer-deprived Baxter, and ultimately resulting in the necessity for a search and rescue mission at the end of the ride.

The trail, moistened by tears at each of the 'B' marks, grew rougher and wetter. Some dirt 'half-pipes' were run, prompting Async and Short Peck to stage an impromptu 'X Games' in  the woods. Dr. WHO walked his girlie bike.  Shine On, doing a two-and-a-half twist double-axel, injured her elbow (but being on high-dose prednisone, she did not notice the injury until her arm fell off into a vat of Bondo's Venezuelan Beaver Ale at the on-on-on, and had to be surgically replanted by Dr WHO). Oozing and Trail Hoover were briefly missing, and when they finally caught back up with the pack, Trail Hoover had some suspicious hickey-like scratches on both buttocks, which she showed frequently and proudly to all who would look (i.e. everyone). Branches of the Burnt Swamp River were crossed, the legendary 'Graveyard of the Recreational Vehicle" was passed, Woonsocket was entered using the secret route the French-Canadians used in order to escape the border guards at the turn of the century.   Just when it seemed that this was going to be a memorable trail, the marks led out on Sumner Brown road, turned north on Burnt Swamp Road, west on West Road in Sheldonville, and back to the cars. All pavement, and substantial use of SIDEWALKS! I'm surprised Bondo didn't lay out training wheels at the beginning of the hash! [Actually Bondo, that's not a bad idea, for your scribe, at least. Think about it for next time.]

After the dramatic and heroic rescue of 'The One-Eyed Boom Boom' and Baxter, the down down was joined in the woods next to a scale model of Joe's Rock. The hare received marks which defied prediction, considering the heinous nature of the 'Case of the Missing B's'. True, blood was spilled, shoes were wet and malodorous, and Basket got lost. But positive scores? I ask the hashing world, after reading this true and notarized account of the events as they unfolded, to send in their opinions of a suitable punishment for a hare to rih3@bondosadope.com. A down down was given to the hare using his "My Little Pony" dixie cups, and he performed a creditable two cup waterfall. Next, the virgin Just Rob entered the circle, where he knew his name, was made to cum by someone named Debbie from Dallas, and thought the square-root of 69 was 3! Where do we get this talent, on an almost weekly basis lately? He was told the charge for the run would be a gold tooth, and having plenty to spare, he went off to get his pliers, but unfortunately became so fascinated by Joe's Rock that he was not heard from again. All present were nominated for the hashit, requiring the use of the RIH3 applauseometer. The needle was broken at Short Peck, whose crime of rescuing Basket narrowly defeated Bondo's beer crimes, Dr WHO's girlie bike, the sight of WIPOS's naked legs, and Shine On's recidivism.

The on-on-on at Bondo's was attended by the hard core, who at last got some beer, as well as some excellent Bondo chili and macaroni salad with limited singing, and reproachful glares from Ben and Jake, who in their capacity as management of the RIH3, decided to fine all members of the hash $25 for not being allowed to come (the aforementioned sum to be paid at the next hash to Dr WHO as acting treasurer, since Bondo is obviously untrustworthy). As always, a time was had by all.


on on

The Slasher Dr W.H.O.