Beer Check of the Year Hash

Run: #842 June 17, 2002
Hare: WIPOS
Location: Dayville, CT
Scribe: Async
Weather: Poor (sunny, low 70s)
Present:  Bondo Jovi, Async, Basket, WIPOS, Oozing
Hashit: The Oozing One
Missing: Dr Who (sudden panic attack over anatomically incorrect bicycle seats), Short Peck (must have found a woman who goes for the Yul Brynner look), EveReady (tanning, toning and relaxing), PW (still suffering from psychic wounds inflicted in Bondo's swamp), Raging QOB (go figure!? this hash was in CT!), Snotty (unable to secure a visa in a post 9/11 concern over suspicious fur'n-ers), Tinker (still voluntarily undergoing debilitating surgery so as to get naked with nurses), and Shine On (in one of her Yuppie Hash only cycles)

The Run:

As any frequent hare knows, sometimes the best planned and laid trails can get totally FUBAR.  Other times, you can wing a trail and get a 10 on the Bondo scale.    Or, you can be like WIPOS.  WIPOS laid a bike hash across the border in the Nutmeg State in beautiful virgin territory.  WIPOS laid the trail across the border into the Ocean State up to the summit of Jerimoth Hill.  His trail then entered the shiggy for some great downhill double track.  The only trouble was nobody followed trail.  At least not the way the hare had intended.

You see, the Armored Plated One was too busy wanking out on trail on a gorgeous Monday evening to bother returning to the start in time for the pack to be off.  So Async, Oozing, Bondo and Basket struck off at 6:31 PM for parts unknown.  Oozing and Basket headed east for some quality time alone together.  Bondo and Async headed west, soon found flour and rode across the west dam of Killingly Pond and onto a dirt road.

The Boddhavista and the Webmaster continued to follow flour down wooded roads, down occasional falsies to the left and right, eventually to the RI/CT border and back into Patrick Kennedy's congressional district.  A large "B" and an arrow was soon encountered, and the trail led past an abandoned house in the woods and out onto a rocky peninsula on Killingly Pond.  For once, WIPOS' beer stash was easily found, and Async and Bondo settled in for, by far and way, the most scenic beer check of the year.  The temp was about 70, the sun was still above the green hills.  The hare had thoughtfully laid out some beach chairs.  A kayaker in the distance paddled across the pond.  No Basket, no dogs and no angry homeowners in sight or sound.  Awesome.  We just needed a couple of bimbos.  Much to our dismay, the only bimbo that arrived on the scene was Oozing.  He had ditched Basket and Baxter and followed Async and Bondo clockwise around the pond.

After watching the sun go down behind the hills, we reluctantly got back on our bikes and continued following trail.   After riding through a couple of large murky puddles, we came across another "B" near a large beaver dam across one of the outlet brooks from the Pond.  Yahoo!  We searched high and low for the hidden stash.  We looked under the road, under the dam, in the bushes, up in the trees.  No beer!  After some grumbling and whining, we got back on our bikes to resume trail.  At that moment, the hare appeared from the shadows from the opposite direction!

WIPOS said we were off trail.  "But we followed trail the whole way here!!", we protested.  It seems that we had been following trail backwards.  The Man of Many Arctic Survival Suits had laid trail counter-clockwise around the pond.  But since we're predominantly right handed and the hare wanks with his left, we got our signals crossed.  At the hare's direction, we re-traced our route back to the cars.  As we arrived back at the cars, Baxter appeared in the distance.  The St Bernard was towing his old man back to the start.  How embarrassing.

We circled up down the road on the small causeway thru the small ponds below Killingly Pond.  After the usual hash religion was administered, the sacred Hashit was awarded to Oozing for unspecified crimes against the Hash.

The On-on was at held at a pizza joint about ten miles east on Route 101.  When we arrived, we hauled the remainder of WIPOS' beer over to an adjacent closed ice cream store, and directed the hare to retrieve pizza for us.   The usual erudite conversation and sophisticated intellectual discourse ensued.  Ooozing tried to start another political discussion, but for the most part, we ignored his usual whimpering liberal ramblings.  We Americans prefer to remain blissfully ignorant of world affairs.  What can possibly be more important than the affairs of the Hash?

On On!
    Async