FANTASTIC, FALL, FULL MOON, FIESTA HASH

(how’s that for alliteration?)

Run #860  October 21, 2002

Hare:  Raging Queen of Bears
Location:  Arcadia
Scribe:  Swallows My Pride
Weather:  30s, Clear, Very Bright – No flashlights or highbeams required
Present:  Basket Boom Boom, Bondo Jovi, Async, Oozing, Ever Ready, WIPOS, Raging Queen, Swallows My Pride
Visitors:  Mormon the Sermon (North Carolina Hash), Just Nick (?Connecticut)
Virgin:  Just Shiela (Just Nick’s mother – yet still claimed to be a virgin)
Supervisors:  Ben, Jake
Commemorating:  Harvest Moon, and a bountiful Rhodey harvest

The Run:

Well, the hare raising d’erections brought most of the hashers to the start, I assume, in a timely fashion.  Those of us knuckleheaded enough to follow the screeching bigwheeled truck of Basket Boom Boom (though he has been to Arcadia hashes multiple times in the past) were given a wonderful tour of Connecticut state.  We actually heard the harmonious sound of Foxwood tokens falling through the slots of onlooking Wampanoags before pulling a Uee and sprinting back to find trail.  But, like our esteemed scribe Dr. Who, I digress…

So, latecummers Basket, Swallows and visitor Mormon the Sermon arrived and again foolishly followed Basket through “shortcuts” full of more than the usual shiggy – actual terrain mimicking Viet-freaking-nam.  Bugle sounds bounded from the leach infested swamp as Basket vainly tried to lead his small pack to the rest of the hashers.  Whistles and trumpets responded.   Legs were shredded.  Blood was shed.  Tears were not shed.  Repeat, NOT shed.

Finally, brambles and briars and several blood transfusions later (though this is usually Dr. Who’s territory; where was he tonight, anyways?  Probably sewing up his own pitiful hasher legs) the pack was reunited.  After climbing out of a foxhole, lights could be seen bobbing up and down in the distance across the bubbling brook.  Was this the enemy approaching on the hill?  Yes and no – it’s the wanker pack!  Running alongside a beautiful, glimmering river, Swallows and Mormon tried desperately to find an outlet while Basket all too willingly braved the cold waters and waded across (thankfully not in the nude this time).  Ben and Jake bounded in and out of the water, trying to play with Basket.  Trail was marked well with toilet paper (Oozing would like to extend a big thanks to the raging hare for having that handy in the deep woods).  Trail and checks continued along with underbrush, brambles and trees that tried to claim many a RIH3 eye.  Somewhere around this time, EverReady lost the aid of her trusty flashlight.  Now, a quick question.  How could those practically new batteries have run out already, especially to a harriette named EverReady?  Soccer mom tried to blame it on her kids, but we all know where her battery power is really going.  Just ask KNO.

And so, with the bright moon to guide EverReady and all, the pack kept form on river right while Swallows and Mormon paralleled river left, not daring to go waist-deep in water.  Curving around by the start and heading down paved road to catch up, WIPOS and Bondo could be seen chugging along Rt. 165, needing a pathetic break from the shiggy.  Hashers chugged along through the woods just off road while the hare flitted ahead tantalizing us with promises of beer.

Soon enough, just atop a beautiful needle covered, tree laden hill, the pack arrived at the Beer Check.  Despite his claimed back injury, Async was still the freaking FRB – was he trying to impress his physical therapist?  Because she’s not here!  Headcount was correct, surprisingly no one was lost to the mirck and swamps of Arcadia - yet.  Just as Swallows boasted to EverReady that she had never fallen on trail, she discovered a knee deep beer trap right in front of the cooler.  Only a flesh wound, don’t worry.  Very crafty, Raging Queen of Beers!  At this point, the virgin mother Just Shiela looked on hesitantly while her son Just Nick begged her to hold him.  Song ensued.

Leaving the foliage and perplexing trail behind, the pack dashed back to the cars for circle up.  Beer was found again.  Though we drank from bottles marked Sam Adams Lager, no one could fool the all knowing hashers and harriettes.  We actually were consuming Raging’s Budweiser bottled under the guise of Sam Adams way back in 1969.  OK, QOB, you can stop trying to pawn that off - we can see through the peeling labels and lipstick stained rims.  We know where this beer has been!  Then again, that never stopped or killed any hasher.

With our musty smells, musty beer, and shivering bods the hare was called to the center.  Overall, the shitty trail was rated a 6.9.  Then the virgin was called into the circle.  Though she did not know the correct square root of 69, we were all impressed by her lack of sexual position preference.  She answered “I like all of them.”  A true Renaissance woman!  She sang some nursery rhyme, drank a down down, and poured the rest over Just Nick’s head – just what he deserves for roping his mother into this!  No hashit was to be found tonight.  We harmonized to a round of Swing Low, then tried to rename Swallows as Swallows Oozing’s Pride and made the latecummers drink a down down.  Then, off to the On After…

Where else would a group of rowdy Rhodey hashers go in southern Rhode Island but Mark's Place.  They actually like us there.  Ha!  More beer was consumed and burgers downed.   All-in-all, a fantastic full moon hash.  On on to next week!

On On,

Swallows My Pride