Trail 79 - Haunted Trail

Hash Trash MountainBeers Trail 79 – Haunted Trail by Free Sexx Cock Fight and Virgin hare Majid led us through the haunted forest on a frighteningly shitty trail. On-Out The night began innocently enough, but it would not remain so for long. As per usual, we spent an inordinate amount of time pre-lubing at Gene’s Beer Garden waiting for trail to start. The Raunchy Reverend hosted his world-famous Glow-Cock Ring-Toss carny game. The first several contestants couldn’t get their rings over Reverend’s massive tip. Hogtied finally won the game by applying the first ring with her mouth. LiqHer Hard also proved that he knows his way around the Reverend’s crotch, scoring three out of three on his first try. Jesus arrived late to the party, proving that he can, in fact, go hashing. On-out was called, but not before Jesus got to second base with Sister Flatus.

Trail #1 The first leg of the trail wasn’t very far away, but some over-enthusiastic hounds decided to give us some extra r*nning. These racists ran a half-mile past the false trail along White Avenue. We backtracked another half-mile and almost got eaten by a giant Rottweiler entering the woods. Beer Near #1 The MountainBeers learned a great deal during the first beer stop. NFHN Nick taught us an important lesson about the afterlife. When you defile someone’s furniture by having sex on top of it, the owner’s eternal soul becomes enslaved to you in the afterlife. The Raunchy Reverend prayed to the heavens for guidance on the matter. Jesus promptly confirmed the ancient Defilement Right of Bondage. After these important life lessons it was time for on-out. The hounds quickly downed their Keystone Enlightenment with enthusiasm and began the uphill battle to inebriation. Trail #2 The hounds continued along the woods and up the steep hills of South Park. The thick brush drew blood from more than one hasher. I’m still picking off briars a week later. The climb was well worth the effort. At the peak of South Park, just behind the slip ‘n slide of old, was the entrance of Haunted Forest. A mysterious voice greeted us at the entrance warning us of our impending doom. Onward! Haunted Trail Ghosts, goblins, and werewolves wandered freely about as we journeyed through the woods. The hashers huddled together, stepping over the human remains and thick spider webs littering the dirt pathways. The second beer near was located in a small ravine surrounded by three large mounds. The MountainBeers continued to drink enlightenment while Sister Flatus and Jesus watched in judgment - perched atop the highest mound. Satan took advantage of the distraction and snuck up behind the happy couple. He won a round of King of the Mountain and began his evil reign over the second beer near.

Haunted Trail #2 The hounds continued to follow the haunted trail, winding their way through the woods. Sinister laughter echoed through the forest as the group neared a tattered wooden tree-bridge. The wood creaked under the weight of the first few brave hounds, leading several others to seek safer crossing. Suddenly, a Bridge Troll blocked the path of our valiant heroes. Sister Flatus pushed forward and flashed her Breasts of Fury, leaving the troll dazed and confused.

Shot Check #1 The first shot check was found on the far end of the ragged troll bridge. A bottle of Burnett’s Whippy slutted itself out around the circle of eager MountainBeers. Officer Half Mind showed up with a Warrant to Strip Search, but left disappointed when only Sister Flatus obliged. Haunted Trail #3 Double Dribble’s virgin blazed the way ahead for the last stretch of the Haunted Forest. He found a teddy bear that had quite obviously been lost in the woods for at least a decade. Regardless, he lugged her around for the rest of trail. I don’t even want to guess as to what sinister scheme he had in mind for that poor teddy. Several hashers reported mysterious ass-grabbing. Some believe it was the work of a particularly naughty Double Dribble, but I think it was the Ghost of Hashmas Past. Shot Check #2 The haunted trail emptied out into the graveyard at the top of Dorsey. Another bottle of Burnett’s was whored out (pumpkin?) amongst the gravestones. Sadly, I had to make an early escape to meet up with Buns so that we could watch Pigeons Playing Ping Pong for a completely different adventure.

Trail 77 - Songmeister Hash and Beer Mile

Hash Trash
MountainBeers Trail 77 – Songmeister’s Hash and Beer Mile
by Free Sexx

Another shitty trail in the books, brought to you by everyone’s favorite flatulent doctor. We r*n, we drank, we sang – and everyone was merry.

Trail #1
The seventy-seventh r*nning of the MountainBeers began at Gene’s Beer Garden in the waning daylight hours. We were off to a late start, mostly because our hare fell on his face before even leaving for on-out. The good Doctor Flatus prescribed a heavy dose of false trails for the first leg of the trail. We zig-zagged through every street of South Park until we finally arrived at the ideal music venue to display our significant singing prowess.

Beer Near #1
We meandered in to 123 Pleasant Street and were immediately greeted with Canada’s greatest export – Black Label. We crammed in the nearest booth and began to serenade 123’s finest. Masocreme and Cock Fight taught us several new songs. I an quite disappointed that we weren’t signed to a record deal on the spot. Seaman Service of Harlottesville H3 finally caught up with us as we were preparing our exit. We gave her a down-down for being a short-cutting bastard, and another one for being a Baylor fan. On-out.

Trail #2
The second leg of the trail was long and exhausting. We weaved through town along Beechurst, avoiding angry motorists as best we could. Free Sexx got separated from the pack following the trail a little too eagerly. After a mile he found himself r*nning alone and frightened. So he hid in the bushes beside the power plant until he heard the familiar shouts of “On-On!” After three more decades of scratching and clawing our way beside the Mon River we finally arrived at our destination.

Beer Near #2
Our French virgin immediately surrendered and retreated back to town – big fucking surprise there. He must have heard that we had German beers planning a blitzkrieg on our livers.

The second leg was long and arduous, but it was well worth the effort! Doctor Flatus and Masocreme awarded us with lots of quality beer and some smoky treats. Betweener Buns tried to smother Free Sexx with her vagina during the photoshoot – not a bad way to die, to be sure. Everyone was properdrunk by the end of the stop, and we still had a Beer Mile to navigate!

Beer Mile
The last leg took us up the steep embankment of the arboretum. Our calves were already feeling the strain before we entered the track. A local football player stopped his training long enough to witness the clusterfuck that was about the go down. Drunken rookies that we are, we split into four teams and turned it into a relay race. Doctor Flatus dragged a giant garbage bag full of Busch out from a dark corner and set up the track. The first four runners all pounded their beer with enthusiasm, slammed the empty aluminum against the pavement, and were off. The enthusiasm quite visibly waned by the time they rounded the last stretch of track. The Raunchy Reverend was the first to cross the threshold, with NFHN Majid close behind. The im-pious Reverend had to hold his stomach in place to keep it from exploding through his esophagus. Doctor Flatus was noticeably hallucinating from dehydration. By the time the second lap was completed, Seaman spewed all over the track.

The Cock Fight-NFHN Majid team was pulling ahead at the beginning of the last lap. Free Sexx finally caught up with him around the first turn. He made his move and passed Cock Fight just around the halfway point, but it would prove to be too soon. The two sprinted with all their might along the final stretch. Cock’s Fight proved just a little bit stronger than Free Sexx. He dove across the finish line just a fraction of a second before his opponent, then collapsed in victory. Congratulations Team Cockjid!

The MountainBeers planned to meet back at Gene’s for circle. But as they crawled back to town it became quite evident that no one was capable of standing long enough for the much venerated ceremony.

Trail 74 - Shittiest Hash on Earth

Hash Trash

MountainBeers Trail 74 - The Shittiest Hash on Earth

by Free Sexx

Trail 74 certainly lived up to its name.  The shittiest hash on earth was the Oregon Trail of hashes.  There were massive trail wounds, rivers forded, animal skulls, and Cock Fight died of dysentery.  Double Dribble even overdosed on head (who said head?).  The blood, sweat, and tears of the MountainBeers still lines the streets of Morgantown on the morning after.

The tears began at Gene’s, the MountainBeers’ favorite garden.  Doctor Flatus made his triumphant homecoming after four long months of inspecting the Euopean kennels.  Many masculine tears were shed as the hounds wept with joy at his return.  After chalk talk, the grueling journey began in earnest.  The first hash crash occurred by the second block.  Raunchy Reverend tripped over his own giant feet and determined that the cement sidewalk was the best place for a clean landing.  He was wrong.  He spent much of the first leg of trail holding his finger to keep it from falling off of his hand.  Sidewalk: 1; Reverend: 0.

We continued through South Park with nary a wrong turn.  The hounds briefly lost sight of the trail beneath Mexi-Can-I’s house until someone shouted “There!  Across the pipeline!”  We crossed the mighty rapids of Decker’s Creek without losing a single hound to drowning.  We quickly lost trail again because apparently three white on-ons means false trail.  We climbed another snake-infested hill and finally arrived at the first Shot Check.

Shot Check #1

 It only took fifteen minutes of combing the woods before one of the virgins found the bottle hidden under a tree.  The MountainBeers swiftly quenched their thirst with a bottle of Burnett’s.  Doctor Flatus entertained us with a sexy rendition of Hamlet using a deer skull that he found in the forest.

Trail 2

We immediately lost the trail of chalk after the first shot check.  The hares led us through the woods, but doubled back to Forest Avenue under cover of shrubbery – sneaky wankers.  The hounds trekked back through downtown, frightening many confused onlookers with their shouting.  Across the bridge we stumbled upon a new mark – the FU?.  Fuck it, we split into three groups and followed three separate trails through First Ward to the next Beer Near at the home of Well Drilled.

Beer Near #1

The hares provided us with another giant FU – Miller Lite.  Burning Bubbles, a travel hasher from Colombus H3, told us of the tales that granted her three out of her five hash names – Burning Bubbles, Filthy Whore, and Squirts in Circle.  The remaining MountainBeers slowly trickled in during this lengthy stop because almost everyone was lost following the FU?. 

Trail 3

Surprise, surprise!  The half-minds at MBH3 lost track of the trail two blocks into the third leg.  They scoured the graveyard for any hint of white powder for fifteen minutes to no avail.  Turd Burglar had hidden the next on-on behind a car around the corner and three blocks down.  The piles of flour took us through some beautiful nighttime shiggy in the woods behind White Park.

The second shot check once again filled our bellies full of Burnett’s.  We really should look into sponsorship.

Trail 4

Holy shit, we lost the trail again after we left the third booze stop!  Ninety-percent of the MountainBeers pushed on through the woods without any flour to guide them.  With no sight of trail, many decided to start walking back to Gene’s.  Instead, they accidently found trail again on the other side of the baseball field and followed it to the graveyard.  The hounds trampled over top of their long-dead ancestors in search of lost treasure, which was hidden behind a crumbling mausoleum. We were having so much fun that Ezekial von Boozehound burst from his grave and joined us for the final Beer Near.

Circle

 The MountainBeers were finally called in to circle at Gene’s Beer Garden after just under eight miles of shitty trail.  Virgin Alvi was feeling a tad beerlemic, so he emptied the contents of his stomach so that he had more room for beer – great strategy!  The hares were of course called in to circle for such a shitty trail.  Masocreme was called in circle for excessive erection of the nipples.    As such, circle closed with a titillating nipple contest.  I’m not sure who supposedly won, but we all lost just a little bit of dignity that day.  Shit hash.

Trail 72 - Animal House Furry Hash

Hash Trash
MountainBeers Trail 72 - Animal House Furry Hash
by Double Dribble

So here's what i remember. We started at Nexi-Can-I's place, where there was a cooler filled with jungle juice and fruit. The hares wanted an unreasonable head start and the beer had to come back out of the house to kill some time.

We took off and did a good job making it to the first beer near, a place Reverend called Shantytown. We tried - somewhat successfully - to remember No Caulk Included's awesome weekday song and took a few pics. Rip n Dip stole the lone prized possession of the homeless person clearly squatting by the river, a tennis racket (naughty-naughty).

After that, we backtracked, as instructed, to the main path (it's the paved one we end up on a lot). The cover of darkness and inexperienced hashers made for some confusion. I was separated from the group with two others (Dick Ninja and a NFHN, I think). We finally found our way back and met up with the rest of the hares near Clutch I think. A few more blocks and we tried to solicit more virgins to join, but lazily they declined.

We made our way into the woods, only to find that the platform overlooking the gorgeous industrial plant was removed and we had to rest in the dirt. A long round of "i used to work in Chicago" was enjoyed by all. One virgin even added "respect she wanted, and respect she got because I'm a nice guy".

On on up the hill and through some shiggy. We wound up back in town and made it to the third beer near. I have no idea where this place is. We had jello shots once we arrived there. There's an overturned couch at the end of the road and a shiggy hill behind the couch. To the right is a wall of rock and it's covered with fencing to hold it I believe. Many hashers were vallef upon to recount the stories that earned them their names, including liq her and hog tied. From there everyone knew mexi-can-is place was the last stop, and the last leg was a leisurely stroll for some. I ended up talking to Josh Kurnott and mexi-can-is neighbors and missed most of circle. Apparently border patrol called herself into circle for something.

Trail 69 - Rave Hash

Hash Trash
MountainBeers Trail 69 – Rave Hash
by Free Sexx

The hash started off promisingly enough. By the end of the trail we had lost two-thirds of our virgins and one lucky hasher wandered off into his own world.

A surprising number of hashers showed up to the Garden of Genes entirely too early. Half-Minds can’t be expected to double check for a different start time. The lengthy pregame ritual didn’t seem to bother anyone, especially with the gay-pride Chewbacca entertaining us with tales of epics past. Two hours later, the literate MountainBeers arrived ready to r*n. Border Patrol and Rip n Dip ran ahead to lay trail.

After chalk talk, one anonymous hasher led a few hounds through the Mushroom Forest to embark on an entirely different sort of adventure. Now that all forms of pre-r*n ritual were complete, the MountainBeers began following the trail of flour, weaving in and out of the dark alleyways of South Park. The first beer near was but a short and uneventful distance from the beer garden. Passing under the Walnut Bridge and a cheering porch of local college students, we arrived at Mexi Cani’s homestead.

Beer Near #1
Remnants of Dick Ninja’s naming from last week were still scattered about the porch when we arrived. We re-hydrated with everyone’s least favorite beer-water – Natty Light. Mexi Cani thought it would be polite to serenade his neighbors with a lengthy version of I Used to Work in Chicago. Ever the philosophical mind, NFHN Gold shouted metaphysical verses at us throughout the song. On to the next stop… but WAIT, our frightened little virgin hares needed thirty minutes advance time. Neveryoumind, there was plenty more beer to drink during the interlude.

We crossed a couple more bridges and a fancy dog park before someone shouted “Shot Check!” entirely too early. Could this just be an incredibly short trail? No! Thirty minutes wasn’t enough head start for our fresh-faced hares, so they decided to reward us with a shit-infested impromptu shot check on top of a sewage drain. That will teach our racists to r*n so fast!

Shot Check #1
We choked down shots of Burnett’s Whippy amidst a shit-storm. Our absent hasher, Betweener Buns, heard what must have been a shitty rendition of Yogi Bear all the way across the river in Westover. Several anonymous hounds sprawled out on the ground watching the mushroom kingdom sparkling in the night sky for the duration of the stop. On to the longest leg of the trail. The hounds were quite pleased with the change of pace from last week. Namely, no god damn hills! Very quickly we noticed the flour markings becoming sparse and further between. The hounds began shedding glow sticks to make up for the missing flour.

Shot Check #2
We learned at the second shot check that the virgin hounds were almost out of flour. We pounded a couple more shots in the muddy riverside of the Arboretum. Double Dribble and ReSquirttle thought that the mud was romantic enough for some public fondling. They quickly disappeared into the woods hoping to earn a sex-on-trail badge, only to be discovered by Dick Ninja while he was innocently watering a tree.

The hares asked for another half hour head start. The hounds were getting antsy once the bottle of Burnett’s was finished and we left halfway through the count. Only now we faced the daunting hill behind the Coliseum. By this time, two of the three virgins escaped back into normal life. We also lost Dick Ninja on the Evansdale campus. He was last seen staring into the sky whispering gibberish to himself about fighting samurai. There is a high probability that he is still wandering around the area lost.

The hares finally ran out of flour in front of the WVU President’s mansion. We spent some time having an illegal amount of fun while waiting on the rest of the pack. Everyone walked the rest of the way to Raunchy Reverend’s house for circle. Rip n Dip played some dance music for on some fancy computer setup that he probably stole. Sadly, we ran out of our beer stock before we could call any noname wankers in for questioning.

Trail 59 - White Trash Hash

Hash Trash
MountainBeers Trail 59 - White Trash Hash

by Cock Fight

It was the trashiest, hashiest hash ever! The 59th MtnBH3 White Trash Hash was hared by Ole Facefull & Wyld Stallion. Trail started near Marios at Facefulls place. 17 trashy hounds showed up, tramp stamps, preggo bellies, trucker hats n more. We were lookin good. The weather was hot and even more humid so in white trash fashion, well, we were pretty lazy. Wetspot is our all-time walker, and I do believe he was ahead of me half the trail... 

The first BN was just past a lovely doublewide mobile home, it had a small yard but they made every foot count with various plastic kiddie pools, swingsets, and car parts. We took a trashy photo and moved on trail, running through Sabraton, and eventually moving into the Forest Ave trails, where we found our next BN amidst a wooded bridge. I should point out that the honorable hares splurged a bit and had some fancy beer on trail. I decided Miller Lite was just too classy for my taste buds and stuck with the Busch.

After this it was on-in. There was a trail laid, but I(CockFight) wouldn't know that.. I was distracted by a stray cat, which wasn't friendly, decided to take a piss, and was interrupted by NFHN Ryan & Virgin Maggie who informed me I was pissing behind the on-in house... Yes yes, we shortcutted, but we knew our punishment was cumming, and took our down-downs. 

In circle we pondered some namings, heard a fantastic story from Liqher Hard(if you weren't there, you'll want to ask him sometime), and drank our hearts out. 

A short hash, but an enjoyable one. Props to the hare/harriette. A good time was had by all.

Trail 58 - You Gon' Get Wet

Hash Trash 

MountainBeers Trail 58 - You Gonna Get Wet 

by Well Drilled

Trail laid by veteran hares CockFight and TurdBurglar! It was the shiggiest, waterfalliest, water ballooniest, water water everywhere hash mountainBEERS has ever had! We were soaked after our awesome kickball game when mother nature decided to get us WET which was a great start to You Gonna Get Wet. Then we shiggied our way to and through white park where we had a massive water balloon fight at the first BN the hares so graciously set up in advance. Man was there a lot of rubber! We continued to follow our hounds on a shiggylicious adventure to the reservoir and when the hounds arrived, there were inflatables (crocodiles, whales, loungers, oh my!) already BLOWN up and the BEER and the HARES were floating in the middle of the reservoir. ON-IN to the water you glorious hashers to get somma dat second BN! 

New hounds and shy hounds stood in for lifeguard duty as the brave hounds dove in to get some libations. Squirt gun fights and beer galore until we left the reservoir and continued on the trail to a raging waterfall. Here some hounds got out of hand so we had to throw in some stern words and continue on the trail to BN#3. It was a hash full of adventure, fun, and shiggy! All the hounds were thoroughly impressed with the hash-planning shittiness of CockFight and TurdBurglar. whoop! whoop! Best summer hash yet!

Trail 50 - Lub-alicious Hash: Say Goodbye to Baby Lube

Hash Trash
MountainBeers Trail 50 - Lube-alicious Hash: Say Goodbye to Baby Lube by Free Sexx
Gene’s Beer Garden was a dim-lit bar positioned along the shady slopes of South Park. The dark nature of the venue was perfect for the group of misfits, outcasts, and wankers gathering within. The MountainBeers were meeting to say farewell to one of their own – a bespectacled young man with light brown waves crashing back on his head (who said head?). This would be the final night that Baby Lube would grease us with his lustrious presence.

The hashers gathered in the back room of Gene’s to drink in a hearty anticipation. Several virgins shared a puzzled expression at their strange surroundings. They wondered if they were to be ritual sacrifices to the revelry. The Pious Reverand Raunchy increased their curiosity by handing them each an inappropriate touch whistle. Well Drilled explained the significance of her new invention during chalk-talk. The r*les were simple. Blow your whistle and be molested from every conceivable angle. Raise your arm higher than ninety degrees and earn the same fate.

With that, the hares escaped the pack to lay trail. The hounds bounded through the quiet neighborhood of South Park in hot pursuit. A middle-aged woman in a red caravan slammed on her brakes, barely missing one of the FRBs attempting to cross the street. She stared open-mouthed as twenty of his compatriots forded Brockway without regard to traffic patterns.

Scores of flour marks led the Mountainbeers to their favorite book store – the Other Bookstore. The crowd gathered in the notorious dungeon for the first event. Two grey-haired men walked briskly passed the FRBs with their heads down and shame in their eyes. The air in the dungeon was thick with man-sweat. The walls were dripping with what the hounds hoped was only water. The only light emanated from the backlight of a large LED screen featuring flesh-colored figures generously sharing each other’s’ genitals. Baby Lube laid down for his role as the sole judge. One by one, the hashers took their turn as masseuse. The gang was serenaded by songs of ecstasy leaking out of the speakers. Double Dribble was the final contestant, which was a fitting choice. She gave him the happy ending that he had hoped for.

The party moved upstairs where the Reverand led a serenade of his own for the bookstore girls. “Why do all the girls love Jesus,” they inquired with a grin? For they know he’ll come again, came the enthusiastic response.

The next leg of the trail passed uneventfully. The hounds arrived at the second BeerNear in First Ward just as the darkness settled in. Entertainment and refreshments were served. Virgins were defiled. Baby Lube slid through the crowd and crept slowly behind one of the newcomers. Caught by surprise, the virgin didn’t know what to do. His innocence was stolen right there in front of a cheering crowd. Never again could he don a suit of purity. His family was shamed.

The hashers were soon swept up in a whirlwind of jello shots and sangria. This fuel would prove necessary, for the night was all uphill from there.

Up, up, up the hashers went, hot on the trail of the harriette. A small grouping of hounds stopped dead in their tracks. Directly ahead, at the mouth of the South Park loop, they sighted a shadowy figure, frozen in fear. The shadow prayed it had gone unnoticed. But alas, bright blue eyes reflected in the moonlight and flour dripped from her pockets. The hounds had their target dead to rights. They left a cloud of dust in their wake as they gave chase. Victory was certain. But this was a cunning harriette. The hounds r*n circles around the loop until they were dizzy. Two hashers were injured and two others were hopelessly lost in the aftermath. The harriette escaped unharmed.

“On-on!” they shouted, as they continued up the never-ending mountain. They finally reached the final BeerNear after precisely three eternities. They quickly rehydrated with their favorite beverage – beer. The stunningly beautiful brunette Just Danielle rewarded her comrades with pepperoni rolls. Her enchanting brown eyes sparkled with delight as the group devoured her gift within minutes.

The MountainBeers found themselves in one of the most respectable and sophisticated neighborhoods in all of Morgantown. They wouldn’t let it stay that way for long. The hares rolled out the slip ‘n slide down the hill. They doused the hillside with a mixture of baby oil, anal lubricant, and a little bit of water.

Such a majestic slide was not meant to be experienced with clothes, the good Doctor Flatus thought to himself. The Doctor’s naked body was halfway down the slide before his clothes landed gingerly on the grass. One, then two, then three, then four hashers disrobed with a fury. Five, then six, even seven or more found themselves in various forms of undress. They attacked the hillside with a fervor unmatched since the Battle of the Bulge. Streaks of flesh glided with little more grace than a paraplegic Dodo bird. Several survivors would be picking out twigs from their nether regions for days.

Circle was called before all of the bumps and bruises even had time to form. A rowdy, raunchy circle immediately formed around the virgins. There was not a dry inch among them. It was impossible to tell who was coated in a layer of babylube, mud, booze, or some other ghastly fluid.

Trail 47 - Mardi Gras Hash

Hash Trash

MountainBeers Trail 47 - Mardi Gras Hash
by Baby Lube

Alright Wankers and Bimbos, since almost the whole lot of you missed it(shame), here's some hash trash for Friday's R*n.

The run started at Brew Pub, and had an extended pre-lube before chalk talk. The hares for the week were ReSquirtle and NFHN Robin, and the Mardi Gras turnout was a bit small. Looking around the room, the first thing I noticed was that we had the same number of virgin hounds as experienced ones; there were only three named runners following the trail! So after a few pitchers we went out for a very necessary Chalk Talk, and got all the Virgins informed on what to expect. Everything went smoothly there and we went back inside to give our hares a head start on what we were told would be an exceptionally long trail.

We all polished off the last of the brew, then took off quite leisurely after the hares. Across the Westover bridge, we encountered our first Witchey Ways (which were not discussed in Chalk Talk, Ahem Ahem), and had to search a bit for the correct trail, which went on a very pretty scenic road by the river. This is where we found our first BN (all hail the brewgods!!). After a wee bit o' drinking and some pleasantly lewd conversation, we moved back to the road to play a game of Pop-the-balloon-on-your-partner's-ass to have a nice even test of everyone's giving and taking abilities, and got ready to head out.

This is where the trail got long. We got a bit tired. We got a bit lost. There was so much trail between marks that we thought the hares were just out to fuck us, and the even camels we'd brought along got thirsty for a beer near! We stopped running. We started walking, and whining. In true hasher fashion, however, we kept up the trail and after much up and down hill, many twists and turns, and much bitching, we finally made it out to the next beer stop past the McDonalds in Westover. There was a nice little amphitheater concession stand for us to stop and hide from the wind (after everyone invaded McDonalds, of course), where we had our second beer near which included some Burnett's Whippy. Flatus misplaced his cock and NFHN Kay her glasses, so while we took off and Kay and Wyld Stalyn went back for said objects... cops.

So. In case anyone's missing the theme here I'll spell it out: Hashing + Westover = cops. They were, once again, nice, patient, and forgiving, but did say quite clearly that this would be our last warning for quite some time so, let's avoid the area for a while, eh? After a brief conversation about being in public parks after dark and the public drinking they ASSUMED we were doing (they're onto us, guys!), they sent us on our merry way and asked us not to return. "Yes sir, thank you sir".

From there it was more-or-less a straight shot Back to ReSquirtle's place for circle, down-downs, shenanigans and cupcakes (GREAT cupcakes!!), and an exchange of beads for Mardi Gras. Hot Todd's were Hott Toddies available, and 80's music reigned supreme.

ReSquirtle got a beer-bath during a down-down, and NFHN Robin and I earned some beads (Mardi Gras only comes once a year!). The virgins were officially hashers and circle dissipated calmly. In the end, good time was had by all, and I hope to see all our virgins again! Shame on all of you who missed it!

Trail 45 - Bloody St. Valentine's Day Massacre

Hash Trash
MountainBeers Trail 45 - Bloody St Valentine's Day Massacre

by Baby Lube

I've been a bit lax in my Hash Trash, so here's a start, and y'all feel free to fill in the blanks.

On Friday the 14th, we had the best damn Valentine's day hash of the year! We only got the cops called on us once (or three time), and they only managed to catch us twice. Regardless, they were awesomely understanding, so kudos to them!

The night started off at Brew Pub, with an amazing amount of hounds, hares(4 hares!!), enthusiasm, and VIRGINS! We had a little chalk talk, and then the hares (NFHN Danielle, GOP, On Her Knees, and myself) disappeared into the unknown to do that whole haring thing.

Apparently there were problems with the dead trail disappearing into the snow, and being confused with salt, etc, and everyone just HAD to bitch about it. So, with the group of hares bellowing for "more marks", it suddenly turned into a live trail, unexpectedly as On Her Knees and I tried to compensate for Mother Nature's lack of respect for this, the most awesome of pastimes. Things went pretty well, though, and we even made it all the way through the first Beer Near before getting the cops called on us the first time!

But... They didn't actually catch us until after the first bottle of liquor, cooler full of warm and delicious spiked hot cocoa (anyone wanna post that recipe?), and (very thankfully!!) the first game were finished. Congrats for an "exceptional showing" go to Liq 'er Hard and Wild Stallion, who easily managed first place in this adventurous competition!

Apparently the reds and blues started flashing just after we hares departed, and (again, thankfully) after everyone was clothed! It sounds like the two cars/three cops that showed up may have been a bit excessive, but as always, we had some silver tongued devils in our midst and working in our favor who managed to explain the group's obvious drinking, less-obvious fake blood, and semi-nerve-wracking (from an officer's standpoint at least) gun-shaped bulges in everyone's pockets away to the point that a stern warning was the most of everyone's warning.

After the beer was finished and the cops had said their piece, the hares resumed trail, only to follow flowers through a relatively shiggy part of snowy woodland to the next section of road. At this point, I want to include a special congratulations to our VIRGINS who made it through. If the sights you had seen so far, the games you had played, the cops you had met, and that hill didn't scare you away, congrats! You might just be hasher material! It was (we thought) a relatively simple run to NFHN Danielle's house from here, and we all reconvened for some flip-cup and special treats. Y'all know what I'm talking about. However, about five minutes after the group arrived we realized we were missing Flatus and a VIRGIN (FOLLOW THE TRAIL, NOT THE HASHERS), but this was easily remedied, and everyone managed to find it in the end.

It was around this point where us hares decided we may have gone overboard. Looking around the room, we realized almost no one was managing to play flip cup properly (in Morgantown of all places), and it may be time to get where we were going sooner rather than later.

I should point out that we had another game planned, more rules with the fake blood filled squirt guns, and that flip-cup was intended to be two out of three. That, we decided, was unlikely to happen at this point.

So, again, On Her Knees and I took off and laid trail back to her place, where we had a nice campfire, some pizza, and MOST OF (did we ever finish??) Circle. Also, another visit from our friendly law enforcement friends, who were responding to a fire complaint. They once again showed their lovely sense of humor, were very chill (can't emphasize their nondickishness enough), and simply asked us to put out the fire and not drive home in our current state. Very reasonable.

All in all, I think a good time was had by most, we didn't lose anyone (except a couple VIRGINS who wimped out, and pfft anyway), and no real trouble was had. What more could you ask for with that much sloppiness?

As an ending note, this is my first attempt at Hash Trash! Tell me where and how I fucked up, what I forgot, and how to improve! However, don't go too hard on me! (maybe use some Baby Lube?)