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.
