Run # 814  December 10, 2001

Hare: Basket Boom Boom
Hounds: Async, the Slasher Doctor WHO, Bondo Jovi, WIPOS, Everyready Eager Beaver 69, the Tinker (bell)
Mismanagement: Jake, Ben, and Baxter
Scribe: yours truly, Oozing SD

Apologies to the Hash for my disregard to my duties, to one of the great runs of 2001, and especially to the Hare, for so much effort on his part deserved so much more of mine.

The Run:

The Hare called all to the Burrillville High School with promises of 'Sights yet unseen' 'nor tread upon by the Hash'. The Slasher waited patiently along with Async for the hare to arrive. It was the Hare's birthday, 54 years young, and the Everyready Eager Beaver had arrived just to insure her birthday gift to the hare would make the festivities. She gave all a quick kiss and asked Bondo Jovi to do the same to the hare when he arrives. Off she went to Basket's house to drop off the gift, for one so deserving, then on to her house to tend to her little children, alone and cold in her house. She had forgotten to pay the utilities and the evil Gas Company had severed her service, surely they would survive the 50 minutes it would take for her to return and turn the propane grill on to warm their tiny bodies.  

The temperature was dropping quickly, and she knew they would survive, plus her car's heater kept things just ducky for her on the ride up and back home. Good Luck Kids, and remember it's just 2 weeks to Christmas and Santa's making a list, so don't bitch.

WIPOS joined the fray, and all were beginning to get itchy feet, as Basket drove up. His directions were clear and concise: red flour on white snow, A to B, short but interesting virgin trail, great beer stop and OnOn, with the OnOnOn party to be the years "Great Event".

The pack started out behind the tennis courts and soon got, lost with the mixture of dog/foot/deer prints mottling up the refrozen snow. Async was off trail, but amazingly found flour heading across a field. The pack followed quickly, and was soon going east then west along the Soccer (Football) field fence. Bondo spotted flour and called the pack around the Hockey Arena and into a series of paths. No other than the hash had been here since the snow, so following the hare's footprints was like licking the panties off of the Hoover, "Easy Street"!

A check at the Branch River stalled the pack for a short time until WIPOS, with his night vision goggles, spotted footprints still warm from the afternoons setting, let the pack through a Nipmuc Village set along the river. 9 Huts of various designs were found, with one great long one in the center. The trail led out through a gate of tied branches and southward downstream. A check was encountered and I attempted to wade out to see if there were markings on the opposite side of a Great Falls. Just as I stepped into the frigid water, Async called, "On On On", as he ran inside a dried up river tributary. This reminded me much of my Pakistani home, with little water, just dried up shit, rocks, and muck. Why any honest Indian would want to control my homeland is beyond me. They can just take it and shove it up there tight brown arses, as far as I'm concerned, give me New York, bright lights, beer and loose women, screw the veils and Taliban.

The pack made their way behind private property marked with the hideous Christmas light burning bright their electric bill, and a massive cross ablaze like none in Klu Klux Klan county 'Bama' during the 60's. It was at least 40 feet tall, all ablaze with white lights saying to all " we're white, and we're right, what are you?"

We found tarmac and followed the trail to the town salt mines and sandpits. A check here brought all to a halt as the confused pack (easily done), finally found marks down to the river and into a marsh. This Back River area was covered with bronze covered muck at least a foot thick, and as we traversed out to the road again, we found ourselves knee deep in primordial ooze. Climbing up the opposite bank, we found marks traveling East to Rte 102 and then South to the entrance of the Burrillville Water Purification Plant. Mohammed I wish we had these back home, so I wouldn't have had to travel so far just to get sweet tasting water. You American assholes don't know what a great benefit have good bacteria can be to bad shit.

The trail led out past the Animal Rescue, Water Works, and eventually along a power line to the now closed Burrillville Dump.  A check had the pack spilt in all directions, but Bondo and WIPOS call all along a path. They were on the wrong side of the fence however and lagged far behind the pack as they found trail and the Beer Near mark leading up to the top of the old dump.

Basket and Baxter were waiting for us at the top, and being the first to arrive, I swallowed deeply from the keg the hare carried to the highest point in NorthWest Glendale. As the remainder of the pack made their way up the snow covered mountain, I was aghast at the wondrous view. It was a cloudless night, with just enough moons to light the snow in 360 degrees. You could almost see Boston, not that anyone in his or her right mind would want to, but it was almost possible. Trinity Brown Ale was served and many hash songs were song in the still night air. Temperature was around 12 F, but the warmth felt by all was more than enough to bring a smile to frozen faces.

Beer finished; we made our way back down the hill, where the trail crossed the Branch River. Bondo complained like a girlie, WIPOS was protected by his specially made "all weather gear", Async, the good Doctor, the dogs, and I found the temperature of the water to be about 15 degrees warmer than the air and relished in its comfort. As we continued on the opposite bank, we found flour leading into the Long House and the pack opened beer and waited to celebrate the hare's arrival.

Lobster was served, and Trinity Brew was enjoyed as we sang "The Monks of St. Bernard" to call all to the circle. The hare receive his down downs, one for hare, one for birthday, and one for carrying the Hashit left behind by myself on the previous hash. Admitting to stupidity, I suggested many to carry this torch, but all were denied by this most Democratic Group. I, again, received the Hashit, for what I know not, but since they are all learned and white, except for Bondo who's French Canadian, they must know better than I.

After Down Downs and songs and a grand Swing Low, we made our way to Basket's. Turkey dinner with all the fixin's, along with late cumer Tinker Bell and a roaring fire made for a delicious end of a grand evening.
 

On On

Oozing Syphilitic DicktaPhone