The Backwards Birthday Briar Hash 

 Run # 812  November 26, 2001

Hare:  WIPOS

Scribe:  The Slasher Dr. W.H.O.

Where:   East Providence, RI

The Weather:    Mid 50's, clear

Present:   Async, EverReady, Dr. W.H.O., Bondo Jovi, Basket Boom Boom, Oozing SD.

Hashit: Basket

Management: Jake, Ben, Baxter

Virgin-who-almost-came-but-had-some-lame-excuse-about-work: Just Emily

Commemorating: The anniversaries of the births of The Slasher Dr. W.H.O. and Bondo Jovi

The Run:

Under the bright city lights of the East Providence equivalent of Sunset Strip, the group gathered with the usual lack of insight and intelligence. Once again, the d'erections given by the hare were in secret code according to the RIH3 standard of "do-the-opposite-of-whatever-the hare says." Take 195 W (i.e. E) to 44 w (i.e. E), etc. In spite of these efforts at misdirection, Ever(the Eager Beaver)Ready arrived early followed by Async, Dr. W.H.O. and Bondo Jovi.

Each had a story about someone who 'might' make the run this night to liven the monotony of running with the usual crowd of half-wits. Deep Throat was going to try to make it from Boston. Compusex was sure to come, being that he had appeared on the Hareline. Dr W.H.O. promised that half the Department of Family Medicine from Memorial Hospital had sworn that they wouldn't miss it for the world. As 6:30 approached however, it appeared that the only new or return players this night would be the Police Squad.

The persistent patrolman who had been foiled last week by Dr. W.H.O.'s amazing trail-setting abilities in his efforts to stop hash-terrorism along the Route 44 corridor was seen driving East(West) on 44. He returned, making passes down the road both East(West) and West(East)with increasing frequency. He slowed more with each circuit past the "Park and Drive" where the group of aging men carrying flashlights, a single woman and two over-sexed male Labrador Retrievers stood attempting to look innocent. Fortunately, Basket had not arrived, so the group was able to convince the officer that they were the travelling company of the East Providence Chorale waiting for the minivan that was to take them to a performance at the First Baptist Church. Jake's ability to harmonize on "There was a little bird..." was especially convincing.

They started promptly at 6:30, heading North(South) into the woods. The woods soon were seen to consist of equal parts of fallen branches, briars and discarded auto parts. Async took the lead until he became almost irretrievably entangled in a large vine choked briar bush. This allowed Dr. WHO to take point, until he tripped and fell into a discarded rusting barrel of fuel oil. Bondo and EverReady took over, following the hyperactive Ben into several blind trails until, like a bear-sized mucus-powered locomotive, the ever-viscous Baxter charged through the pack onto the true trail. A feeble bugle was heard in the distance. Moments later, a disheveled Basket arrived, with a pathetic story about falling at the first hill on the trail in a puddle of Baxter's spoog [Note: the proper medical terms will be used, wherever practical.] and nearly losing consciousness. Lying alone in the woods on the brink of a coma, he realized that this was actually his normal state, so he continued.

The trail led through more thorns into more thorns, this time immersed in mud. No actual human paths were encountered. All the flour marks were on animal trails; some deer trails perhaps but mostly rodent warrens, based on the height of the thorn arches under which the hapless bunch had to crawl. Uphill slightly, they ran. The thorns began to clear slightly and they came to the southeast(northwest) side of some playing fields and a playground. In the distance, wearing white clothing, a lone figure was seen on the fields. It was performing some kind of strange ceremony in the dark, running a short distance, right arm windmilling, then throwing a ball at three sticks in the ground. Fearing Satanic rituals the group moved on rapidly, Basket sounding retreat on the bugle. The figure responded with a note from his slide whistle. It was Oozing! The group ran away faster. Northeast(Southwest).

Finally, the East(West) bank of the Ten Mile River was reached. A check by the banks of the river was followed across only by Async. The rest, noting the dryness of the hare's pneumatic body armor, held back and were rewarded as the hare indicated true trail along the bank. It appeared that the hare, as a present to Bondo and Dr. WHO for their birthdays, was willing to lead to the true trail at checks. It turned out that this didn't help much because the hare himself couldn't remember which way to go most of the time.

Another check past a right(left) turn in the river and the trail led briefly south(north)across a log at the deepest and most noisome part of the raging flood. The hare had greased the far end of the log with leftover turkey fat from Thanksgiving. In spite of this, the hashers all made it across safe and dry. Only however, to be soaked by the dogs shaking themselves off in proximity to each runner as he or she was trapped by the next gorse bush.

They ran briefly east(west) and finally came upon an old road at a check. Heading northwest(southeast), Async, Bondo and Dr. WHO began to pick up speed. Soon they encountered a chain strung at ankle height in the road. This had obviously been placed with the specific purpose of catching people running full steam in the dark with their flashlights off to conserve battery power. It worked. Dr. WHO fell, seriously fracturing and denting the underlying asphalt. Basket, EverReady and the hare missed this fun, curving east(west) back towards the river, exiting the woods at the dam by the East Providence Water Works and the 'John Hunt' House.

Crossing 114A, the group regrouped in confusion, and while searching for true trail encountered a lone jogger, Just Emily. She had planned to join the group for her first hash this evening but at the advice of Dr. WHO, she had read the Hash Trash. Seeing a picture of Oozing and comparing it to Osama Bin Laden, she grew afraid and decided she'd better scout it out first. Dr. WHO, EverReady and the hare greeted her warmly, and invited her to join in. She ran briefly with the group but soon noticed the trail of blood left by the thorn-scourged legs of the hashers, and decided against it for some reason. [As an aside, it is always difficult to recruit medical professionals to the hash, given that most are reasonably intelligent and trained to avoid injury in all situations. Fortunately for the RIH3, both Dr. WHO and Oozing SD got into medical school through Title XII, little known legislation that demands equal opportunities in medical education for the simple-minded and confused.! ]

True trail led north(south) along the banks of the James V. Turner Reservoir, where there was no flour because the hare had seen a woman walking her Pekinese while he was out, and he was afraid that the dog might become enraged at the sight of white powder. But it was a wide open path, groomed and free of obstacles all the way to Newman Ave. Dr. WHO only fell twice. Crossing Newman, the trail at this point consisted of the sounds of Oozing's slide whistle at the beer check, 300 yards ahead on the shore of Central Pond, at the beer check. Oozing had taken the hare's directions seriously and by reversing everything, running backwards holding a mirror, he had successfully found the beer check without seeing a thorn. For the first time all had gathered together successfully. It was very depressing. But it didn't last long for the hare had economized on beer, and after a short break with no singing(!) it was on west(east) to Redland Ave. where they turned south(north). The runners! spread out with Async, Oozing and Dr. WHO leading, until Oozing stopped at the fields to pick up his wickets and Dr WHO fell into a holly bush on Pawtucket Avenue. After a jaunt of two-tree miles, a left(right) turn onto a grass road led to the starting point.

At the circle (before it was called to disorder) Basket, obviously deranged by the consumption of the hare's "Saranac Caramel Double Mocha Malt Stout" began to sing: "On the first day of Ramadan..." He was only shut up (on the fifth day of Ramadan) by the combined vocal stylings of the rest of the hashers singing: "The Monks of St. Bernard." Hare in the circle. He received excellent ratings: 12F from Bondo, whines about pavement from Async, "Most blood-loss" from Dr. WHO, "Good shiggy" from EverReady, "Best trail-run-in-reverse of the year" from Oozing, and complaints about the beer from Basket. Total: 6.9! He sang a song about the dangers of promiscuity and onto the hashit. Async, hashit in absentia from the preceding week, nominated the hare, Bondo and Basket. By universal acclaim, Basket again was proclaimed hashit and felt the sinking feeling of shame and remorse that accompanies this dread award, and which silenced him in embarrassment for close to 0.69 seconds. A song about a virgin in ole West(East) Virginny, Hash religion and the circle was over.

The hare was understandably torn about the choices for the on on on. Last week at Tort's the group had had reasonably priced pitchers of Guinness, acceptable food, and pretty waitresses and barmaids, as well as Britney Spears. On the other hand, the Red Bridge Tavern offered pints of Guinness, FREE food, no waitresses, and seven or eight fat hairy guys in smelly sweatshirts with their butt cracks hanging out in front of the bigscreen swearing at the top of their lungs at their favorite football players. In the end it was no contest. We hope Britney didn't miss us, but a buck, after all, is a buck. And that was the gift of the hash to the two birthday boys: $500 in Hash Cash from the GM's printing press. We need an AGM soon.

On On

The Slasher Dr. W.H.O.