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?)

Trail 40 - Christmas Hash n Bash

Hash Trash
MountainBeers Trail 40 - Christmas Hash n Bash
by Cock Fight

NFHN Anne certainly made up for her last trail with last nights hash. This was one of the shittiest ever!! 
We all met at Genes for prelube. Due to the dismal weather, we were expecting a poor turnout but as they typically do, the hashers came thru(SO to Alex) and most everyone had donned their gay apparel. Good job guys! 

After several pitchers, Anne set out on what would become a 5 mile trail. God must love his hashers, because the rain stopped as the hounds started trail. We reaked havoc thru downtown, the giant cock frightened many a lady, and we made it to
BN #1 McClafferty's Irish Pub.
NFHN Anne had half the bar full of pints for her hounds, very thoughtful she was, to give us so many dry, warm BN's. I certainly needed a break from that giant cock suit. We sang a few songs and enjoyed our brews.

Then we were off again, getting a bit mixed up around the Beechhurst PRT station but the hounds left none behind. A random, small Asian girl was terrified of the cock(but then again, they probably arent used to cocks that big), Anni led us through the Mtn Lair, and that was quite entertaining, probably more so for the students than us, judging by the 100 cell phones that popped up immediately.
Trail then led to a huge friggin hill that seemed to never end, thank god we found

BN #2 Town Hill Tavern
We woke up the sleepy little bar with our raucous debauchery, and our unorthodox "Christmas Carrols". Whether they truly enjoyed our company, or not, its hard to tell, but we certainly had fun. Thanks for the 3 pitchers Anne. This harriette has swag.
Trail led us back downhill, past Mario's, and into the woods where we found

BN #3 nestled against a tree.
When the hounds realized the beer near was Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, something like a howl was let out, as this was several of the hounds favorite brew. Man the kicks just kept cumming on this trail. At this point the rain decided it could hold off no longer, but we had no fucks to give, as were all quite loose by this time.

Trail led us back to Genes, funny how that works, and we led a great circle. There was some cocks shown, a bare ass, and TOO MANY ASS SLAPS! ow. Lots of great names were proposed for NFHN Anne, and we all need to ponder on these heavily as this harriette greatly deserves a name. VirginTom was devirginized, and i do believe, now a devout hasher.
SHITTY HASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. LiqHerHard's mustache is gone...

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