Bondo's Columbus Day Hash Part 1
Run: #859a, October 14, 2002
Hare: Bondo Jovi
Location: Joe’s Rock/ Birchwold farm, West Wrentham
Scribe: The Slasher Dr. W.H.O.
Weather: High 70's, Clear - a beautiful humid evening.
Present: Dr WHO, Basket Boom Boom, WIPOS, Oozing, Trail
Hoover (SESYB), Ben, Jake.
Visitor: Evil Bitch RIPTA (Sweet and Adorable),
Just A. J.
Commemorating: Malagasy Independence Day.
The Run:
Bondo Jovi the hare had planned to run the usual hash from his house. He was relying on the fact that they never clean the streets of Woonsocket, and flour and chalk traces from the last four hashes there are still visible and therefore reusable with no effort. Unfortunately, he forgot that Woonsocket's Columbus Day Celebration and Parade is a major public event. Representatives from the town council had heard that he would not be going to Ohio as he has for years on Columbus Day. They came to his home on Sunday and warned him (threatening a visit to his basement from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms) to get out of town completely at least until 4PM. Forced from his home, he decided to set trail from Joe’s Rock in Wrentham at 2:00, figuring to come back to run the recycled trail from Cold Spring Park at the usual 6:30 time.
Dr WHO arrived promptly at 1:45. The parking lot was almost full. But no hashers. Apparently, a pilgrimage to Joe’s Rock is the thing to do in Wrentham on Columbus Day. The hare came out of Birchwold Farm across the street at 1:55. It looked like it was going to be a nearly perfect hash, Dr WHO and Bondo alone, gamboling in the woods with lots of beer. Unfortunately at about 2 minutes past the hour, like that sudden uncomfortable wetness that sometimes manifests after a Bondo-beer fart, Basket arrived. He was soon joined by WIPOS and then visitors: EB RIPTA and a second timer, Just A.J. [ Just A.J. had had his virgin hash only the day before, with Newport. It had been hared in Tiverton by the Sweet and Adorable One. His experience had been somewhat marred by the fact that he had chosen to follow Dr WHO for much of that run. Dr WHO was participating in this Newport event only because it was in his neighborhood and he knew the area so well. Accordingly, he got himself so lost he almost missed the circle. Just A.J. wasn’t sure, but he thought that this might not be the way hashing was supposed to work. RIPTA had recommended trying again. They showed up for this hash, figuring that Dr WHO has sustained too much blood loss in Tiverton to run two days in a row. But I digress.] The group set off across the street about 15 minutes late.
Trail was well marked, further proof of the hare’s progressive dementia. They ran south into the fields on paths that were well groomed. Checks served their purpose, keeping all together at first. But when they finally came out onto a powerline, Just A.J. and Dr WHO were in the lead, WIPOS and EB RIPTA were following leisurely, and Basket was lost. Meanwhile, at the parking area, Oozing and Trail Hoover had arrived. They followed the HHH arrow and crossed into Birchwold Farm, and ran through the other parking lot. Lo and behold, the svelte form of the hare sneaking the beer to the BC could be seen in the distance! They saw no reason to run an actual hash, so they chased the hare. They had almost caught up with him just as Basket emerged from the woods far from any flour. They all managed to come together at the Beer Check atop a rock on the south side of the powerlines.
Back on true trail, Dr WHOand Just A.J. traded the lead like a well-oiled machine, effortlessly coping with checks and falsies. Another example of how chance favors the unprepared half-mind. They made their way rapidly through the woods southeast across a streambed, up some single-track back towards the powerlines then fully south into the woods. The MA/RI border stone was passed on a dirt road and they soon turned west, now in Cumberland. The hare most unfortunately ignored the nearby Burnt Swamp and its brook that could have provided some much-needed moisture for the arid feet of the hashers.
A “Private Property Keep Out!” barrier was encountered and ignored as they made their way west. Crossing back into legal territory, the trail led north. More checks were dealt with brilliantly. Finally, on what appeared to still be true trail, the FRB’s found themselves with Ben back on the powerlines at the check that had initially sent them into the woods. This wasn’t right. They looked north. False. South was wrong for sure. They checked east. No trail at all (but lots of briars, which successfully started Dr WHO bleeding again. Perhaps he should be renamed the Bleeder Dr WHO.). They tried bushwhacking in sundry directions off the cardinal points, all to no avail. “R.U.?” was sounded frequently with no response. Finally, Dr WHO advised that they repeat the loop and redo all the checks. What a knucklehead! They headed back southeast. [It might be instructive at this point, for Just A.J. and for any new or prospective hashers who happen to be reading this, to review the Official Rules of Rhode Island Hashing. They are as follows:
Rule #1. Never follow Dr
WHO.
Rule #2. NO Poofters!
Rule #3. There is NO Rule #3!
Rule #4. Never follow
Basket Boom Boom.
Rule #5. NO Poofters!
Rule #6. NO trespassing unless
absolutely convenient.
Rule #7. Never follow any RI
Hasher (they are likely to be Poofters).
Rule #8. There are NO rules!
Rule #9. NO Poofters!
Amen.]
Meanwhile, back at the BC, EB RIPTA and WIPOS had arrived. After a time, RIPTA grew worried, feeling responsible for the new boot. Basket grew restive (not having actually run at all this trail). The two set off, backtracking to find the lost wankers (while WIPOS tried to look exhausted, and Oozing and Trail Hoover pretended to be searching for examples of poison ivy in the neighboring bushes). Basket made it past the No Trespassing zone, where he met the two missing hashers nearing completion of their second loop. He wondered how they could have missed the giant arrow to the BC. With geometric precision and unanswerable logic, Dr WHO proved beyond ANY shadow of a doubt not only that there COULD NOT have been ANY SUCH ARROW, but also that the hare was a heinous pedophilic deviant (whose recent problems with impotence and homosexual ideation moreover made him a likely candidate to be the Beltway Sniper). Basket followed them to a giant arrow (obviously a fabrication ONLY MINUTES OLD, based on the grain pattern and the recent winds, barometric pressure and relative humidity). They turned left and soon joined the group at the beer check at the top of a huge rock.
The beer check was relatively sedate, with a few songs and little rude behaviour. In part this was because of the scant level ground atop the boulder where the hare had sited the check. But mostly it was because the crowds of children and young families who had paid their respects to Joe’s Rock had begun to arrive. Their apparent goal was to climb “Joe’s second favorite Rock”, the coincidental location of the beer check. Now suppose for a moment that you were a parent. If you saw Bondo, Basket and Oozing atop a rock in the woods, would you encourage your 6-year-old daughter to join them up there? (More than once that afternoon, an innocent child could be heard to ask: “What’s a dickie-di-do, Mommy?” as he or she climbed down from the perch of the hashers.)
On out was straight back across the powerlines, through the fields, and to the Birchwold parking lot. The hashers
gathered at the hare's car awaiting his arrival (apparently the empty beer canister slowed his progress through the woods
substantially). Attempts were made to retrieve the beer from his car to no avail, although a small tear in the screen of
the right rear window was mysteriously enlarged and somehow the HHH cone was temporarily misplaced. The hare arrived, and
they decided to circle at the hare's house. They went to the cars across the street and convoyed to Woonsocket.
In Woonsocket, DogMeat and Rhode Island's newest hasher, Seamus St. Bernard greeted them.
The circle was formed and ratings begun. Dr WHO and Just A.J.
admitted that they liked the run so much they did it twice, WIPOS and
EB RIPTA were extraordinarily charitable given the weather and lack of shiggy, and Oozing,
Trail Hoover and Basket were ignored as irrelevant. Overall, 6.9! Virgin/visitor
in the circle: Just A.J. was questioned: he knew his name mostly, was made to cum by RIPTA, and calculated the square root of 69 as 8.7! He did a down down, apparently surprised that
the RIH3 uses beer for this.[ The day prior, his down down consisted of a dixie cup filled with a mixture of soapy water,
coke, and some foul liquid called "Hooch!" But I digress.] He was also unaware of the hashing tradition of
singing after a down down. He fumbled briefly, but recovered nicely with 'Old Macdonald's Farm'. Hashit was produced
and given briefly to Seamus (it fit him well) but ended up God knows where. The excuses were flying and Async probably was awarded the thing in absentia for all your scribe can remember.
With the circle complete, Dr WHO had to leave for family reasons (did he get the hashit?) and the group moved inside to sample some Bondo chili/dynamites as an appetizer for the second run. Again, your scribe was not present for this hash. Your scribe KNOWS that someone will step in and chronicle the event (maybe by next Easter). But having some experience in Bondo's Woonsocket hashes, your scribe will describe what must have occurred:
Run #859b, Later that day.
Hare:
Bondo
Location: Cold Spring Park,
Woonsocket
Present: The wanks from above,
plus some other idiots.
The Run:
They gathered at Cold Spring Park at 6:15. A few confused visitors from Boston arrived to join the ones who had cum twice. Async, EverReady and KNO joined the group. They were off promptly south along the river, turning east on the RR tracks then uphill, crossing the river twice. The beer check was in Bondo's car, parked in a sand-and-gravel pit near Blackstone. There was no shiggy. Back south to Bondo's, they circled quickly. The gastrointestinal distress felt by those who had run both hashes and partaken of both Bondo-Brew and Bondo-chili had become quite acute. In fact, insufficient bathrooms were available. Basket had to dig a makeshift latrine in the backyard. Bondo (given the hashit for overachieving with two hashes in a day) provided a toilet seat. It was disgusting. After, more food was provided, all enjoyed themselves into the wee hours of the night (9:30PM) and Basket got naked in the hot tub. Just A.J. vowed he had a great time and will be back for sure. The Boston hashers got drunk and had to be dragged into the garage to sleep it off. Honestly, now was that so hard?
On On
The Slasher Dr. W.H.O.