Ivy-Covered Balls Hash

Run #998, May 23, 2005

Hare:  Red Snapper (Fergie)

Location:  Rhode Island College, Providence.

Weather:  High 40’s, Rain Showers.

Present:  Dr WHO, Fuwangi Boner, Dry Foot Fairy, Hopeless, WIPOS, Tinker, Oozing SD, SESYB, Basket Boom Boom, Async, Seamus.

The Run:

The hare had resolved to celebrate her graduation by setting her first trail in at least a decade. This was sure to bring out the curious and the nostalgic. So to prevent an overcrowded (and expensive) hash, she had made certain to send out bad d’erections, with right turns required where only left was possible, and two choice of circles to park in. But the ever-resourceful and idle wankers of the RIH3 are used to bad d’erections, and most of the regulars eventually found their way to the circle at the end of Salisbury Drive, at the northeast corner of Rhode Island College to join the hare. As 6:30 approached, even Async was sighted, cruising around at the other circle, looking for the start. A quick cell-phone call, and he was directed to the true start. Around 6:45, they were finally off, starting with a check.

True trail was found by WHO, leading slightly south of west on grass, crossing a few parking lots into some woods. There was plentiful poison ivy. Soon a check caused confusion. Basket and WHO tried a powerline west. Async and Dry Foot Fairy led Hopeless north into a neighborhood. Their calls drew the rest. But soon it became apparent that this was an unnecessary loop. WHO and Fuwangi realized this first and turned back south into the woods. Trail resumed west. An access path was followed north of the track and baseball fields. Not much in the way of woods, but more poison ivy was encountered.

Another check again led to a regrouping. True trail led across a metal ladder/bridge to a field (of poison ivy) and then out onto Fruit Hill Ave. A four way check on pavement was encountered. WHO tried straight: 2 marks then false. Fuwangi tried north on Oak Grove: no marks. Oozing went northeast on Fruit Hill, 2 marks then false. He impishly called On On, leading the pack astray yet again. Ha Ha! What a card! Basket and SESYB found true trail leading south on Fruit Hill Ave. The rest followed.

A check near the entrance to RIC turned the group southwest on Metcalf. Shortly, the first Beer Check was discovered at the Ruff Stone Tavern. A fine and welcoming establishment this was, with the head of a large dog (St Bernard?) as its logo. Once the hare caught up, they entered and had pitchers of Guinness and Bass, distributed in 8 oz frosted glasses. [Why would a bar bother frosting 8 oz. glasses? Do they cater to Newporters? But I digress.] Seamus was admitted to the establishment, and was much admired. The group was unusually well-behaved. There was no singing. But with only two pitchers for the 11 hashers, no one was about to lose any inhibitions just yet.

After finishing off the beer, they were on out, through back door. Trail led on Brook St southeast to a check, and crossing Fruit Hill Ave., they re-entered the woods. Eastwards they ran, with little of note to challenge them. Small amounts of poison ivy were found, but nothing like the luxuriant growth at the campus. They came onto the Triggs Memorial Golf Course. Crossing Hole #1 (379 yd, par 4) was no challenge as the light rain was starting, and no new foursomes were beginning. However, they continued onto hole #9 (391 yd, par4). A group coming to their balls on the fairway was surprised by the hashers. They crossed in front of the golfers with calls of “On On!”, “Hashing through!” and “FOREskin!”. The hare had to hang back to apologize and make excuses. Possibly sexual favors were exchanged.

The second Beer Check was at the clubhouse. Once the hare broke away from the irate foursome, she provided Bass in bottles, served under a tent outside the clubhouse. The rain was now steady. And with an audience on and off the course, it was inevitable. The singing began. The clubhouse emptied of paying customers. But the rhubarb made its first appearance in a few weeks. After a few dozen songs, the group was all too willing to head out in the rain for the rest of the trail. The hare warned of a steep rock climb on the way back. In the rain. Crossing some poison ivy. Things were looking up, or was it just the mood-elevating effect of two beer stops in the last ¾ of a mile?

On Out led east between #13 (447 yds, par 4) and #14 (140 yds, par 3). No golfers were seen. No poison ivy was seen. But in the rain and waning light, it was hard to see the fairway. They emerged on and crossed hole # 15 (496 yds, par 5). Trail was led by Fuwangi and WHO northeast along the border of the fairway. They came to a water hazard at #16 (302 yds par 4). Fuwangi valiantly (i.e. stupidly) followed marks in the mud along the shore of the hazard. Async, WHO and DFF took the cart path. They ignored the frantic calls from the hare who was trying to get the FRB’s back, afraid they might miss some shiggy. Basket began searching for balls. He found some in the poison ivy, but they were only golf balls. His wife will again be disappointed. Finally they crossed out of the woods and emerged onto College Rd.

A check led east to first left (right) and through a parking lot north to some woods in back. Another check sent WHO and Async west on an on overgrown paved walkway. Fuwangi found true trail by following the poison ivy north. A short bushwhack began. It curved slightly to the west to a large rock. This was climbed. From the top, flour words could be made out. “ONE ELL 31-1” it seemed to say. The hare, at the base of the rock claimed that it read: “H3 THE END”, but this was patently not the case. It was raining pretty hard, though. But there was no beer. There was no poison ivy. There was no reason to prolong this. Crossing the rock, they ran out to Salisbury Rd. and the cars. Basket distributed his balls. This was sufficient to cause the group to agree to circle up at the On On On, back at Ruff Stones.

They drove back to Ruff Stones, singly and in convoys, only WIPOS lost because of a broken seal on his Kevlar armor. After changing, refreshing, cleaning, wanking or whatever, they entered. They put some tables together, and at the hare’s insistence, started the circle. Sitting!. Menus on their knees! The Monks of St Bernard hid in their cloisters for shame! But (while the waiter took orders!) they rated the run. The ratings overall were favorable: rain, 2 Beer Checks, no Bondo, poison ivy, confused golfers, loss of WIPOS, and a possible regular addition to the hareline: +6.9. (Forget the pavement, lack of shiggy, no losses on trail, excessive flour use, and 8 oz frosted glasses. But the RIH3 is nothing, if not forgiving! Especially if it means more regulars setting trail.) Hashit: Basket to Async to Hopeless. Don’t ask! The circle was completed, and the food arrived, signaling time to really start singing. The hash was encouraged in this by the bartender who, being a frustrated rugger, came and sat in to sing verses of all the classics. Voices were strained, eardrums were pained and no one complained! Pathetic!

On On