Back to Burrillville, Part Duh.

Run #946, May 31, 2004

Hare: Basket Boom Boom

Location: Burrillville Middle School

Weather: Low 70’s, Clear

Present: The Slasher Dr WHO, Mr Whipple, Fuwangi Boner, Tinker, Bondo Jovi. Visitors: Friar F*ck (BH3), Evil B*tch RIPTA (NH3), Ms. Gay Rhode Island (NH3). Hounds: Seamus, Ben, Jake, Zena, and Mr Whipple’s two b*tches. Non-running Wankers: Dogmeat, Just Big Sh*t, Short Peck, Jodi and friends, Mrs. “Why-did-my-daughter-ever-marry-this-wank?” (Basket’s Mother-in-law (?)).

Commemorating: Memorial Day

The Run:

You might just as well read last week’s trash as waste your time on this, because with a few exceptions, the hare just did a RQOB move and recycled his trail from last week. But even the Raging Queen wouldn’t have had the balls to do it only one week later. The hare must have felt that those who ran last week would have been so disgusted that they would give up hashing altogether and not show up again for months. He should realize that no one can remember last week.

Back they came to the Burrillville Middle School. At first it seemed that there would be more dogs than hashers, especially when the Bondo-mobile pulled in carrying his own dogs as well as Seamus. He explained that he had dropped off the hare for the beer stop. At least there would be beer! The visitors were hopeful. The ones who had missed last week were hopeful. The dogs were very hopeful. The ones returning to the same starting point two weeks in a row were (and are) hopeless. Hopeless was (like Async and WIPOS) home with his wife. But Hope (like the Branch River) springs eternal, and they waited patiently for instructions from the hare, who finally arrived, about five minutes late. It was to be an A-to-A, already different from last week. Another ray of hope.

Having applied bug spray, ivy block and delousing cream, Dr WHO, Fuwangi, and Mr. Whipple started out, following last weeks marks northwest into the woods behind the school, just as the Newport contingent of EB RIPTA and Ms. Gay RI pulled into the lot. Advance experience allowed the FRBs to maintain position, while Oozing, and SESYB fell for some early checks, Friar, and Tinker ambled slowly, chatting about old times, and Bondo wondered quietly how long he should wait before breaking away and short-cutting to the beer check.

Trail led curving west to the eastern shore of the Branch River, where a check was missed by the FRBs but apparently sent just about everyone else across the river on a falsie. Following the frequent marks southwest along the river, true trail finally did cross, for a prolonged and annoying bushwhack along a ridge, and then back across to the path. But not for long, as the trail crossed back into the river, continued in the water southwest for a few yards and then turned west. It led up a dry, rocky and overgrown spillway, and finally came out on Joslin Road.

The hashers were scattered throughout the area now. Fuwangi and WHO were exploring a falsie in a swamp off Joslin Road before the 102 underpass. Mr Whipple, Oozing and SESYB were debating their third watercrossing, assuming trouble. RIPTA was trying to keep Ms. Gay RI from getting lost from the sheer exuberance of being on a trail that did not involve pavement or bowling alleys. Friar and Tinker were making steady progress, and avoiding the water altogether. Bondo was lying down, his back on a tree at the beer check, well into his third beer. The hare was frantically bugling to try and regain some order.

Dr WHO finally emerged from the swamp and took Joslin to the Victory Highway. Grimly shaking his head at the deranged audacity of the hare, he turned east. As he had foreseen, he found marks leading to Walling Road. Up this road briefly he ran, and turned following an unmistakable odor. He found Bondo and the beer check, cunningly concealed at the same spot it had been the previous week. Gradually the rest arrived, only Ms. Gay RI lost for the moment. The beer check was jovial regardless of the lack of effort by the hare, and songs were sung, and the rhubarb yet again refused to rise. [This song is growing each week like a giant festering and fungating boil on the bum of the RIH3. But I digress.]

Trail on-in was a backwards segment of last weeks. The marks traversed the woods northeast through a slightly swampy area, and then crossed the Victory Highway onto the rail grade parallel to 102. In no time they were back at the Middle School. But Ms. Gay RI was still missing, and the hare and RIPTA stayed to start a search while the rest drove over to Snake Hill Rd. to circle up. Dogmeat, Just Big Sh*t, Short Peck and Jodi greeted the arrivals and opened the taps and food stores. But all good things must end and finally, the lost hasher was found. He was brought back to the circle just in time, as the beer consumption was proceeding rapidly. When the circle was called to order, the comments and songs reflected this.

The ratings reflected several telling points: rehashing (well within the statute of limitations), Bondo FRB to the BC, clement weather, and minimal shiggy apart from the Branch River. These were only slightly offset by the loss of a hasher, the numerous opportunities to encounter dog-excrement on trail, and the absence of Async and WIPOS. Total: 0.69. Hashit made the usual rounds of false accusations and settled on Bondo for denying cohare status. The circle finished and all enjoyed a feast brought by all the participants. Volleyball was “played”, resulting in a dislocated finger for Dr WHO and significant embarrassment for the host and hare as he was trounced by Bondo Jovi. Another fine holiday outing for the RIH3.

On On