Whoever said “Gas Light” was easy? I’m sure it must have been “Grind Slut” but we won’t get into that? Since nobody had stepped forward to lay this run and it was only two days away, I was doing my best at the Hangover hash to convince “Gas Light” she should. Believe me the woman drives a hard bargain! First I had to promise to kept her beer cup full the entire day, this got me an I’ll consider it. Second, I had to promise to bring the food for her, this got me a maybe. Then after numerous trips to the keg of St. Arnolds and a half a day of dishing out complements of how great her hash trails were she finally gave in. Well, whatever it takes right . . . an On Sec’s job is never done. Somewhere during the evening, late in the evening I’m sure, she managed to coerce “P. P.” into Co-haring and being her shag wagon. Moral of the story . . . if you ever plan on negotiating with “Gas Light” be prepared, she anything but easy! The Rain Evidently “Dickhead” didn’t have his usual talk with the “Hash God’s” on this day. Upon arrival at the parking lot of Aldean High School the skies opened up. “Such-A-Puss” and “Finger Fuck” were tucked away in “Such-A-Pussy’s” BMW in order to keep your hash dollars dry. “Mr. T” cut his mingling short and retreated to his hash wheels with “Thai’d One” . . . hum, wonder if “Can’t Hound” knew about that? My Hash Trash was getting wet and limp so I made my way back to the car with “Lazy Worm” and proceeded to see how fast we could fog up the windows. Only “Roller Balls”, outfitted in only his running shorts, and a few others had the hash mentality to stand around in the pouring rain and shoot the shit about whatever hashers shoot the shit about. After looking around and surveying the situation I noticed that the hares were nowhere in sight. This had to mean one of two things. They had either started to worry about us and made a last minute effort to go out and lay extra flour in strategically located areas so the rains wouldn’t wash it away or they were having a last minute beer somewhere. The answer would come all too soon. Hash Commandant, “Muscle Phahrt”, soon strolled up and demanded we move all 21 cars out of the parking lot we were in that housed 135 parking spaces and move them to the front of the school which had a whopping 12 spaces. Musical chairs immediately came to mind so instead of arguing the point I hurried to the car and made a mad dash to the front to secure one of the 12 spaces. The only advantage to this move was the fact that we got to use the entrance way to the school for an umbrella. The Hash Once everyone finally got moved around the hares mounted the
truck and pointed that first flour was towards the South. Wasting no time the pack was off
dashing through puddles ankle deep. That is, everyone except “John Boy”, who
confided in me that he wasn’t ready to get his shoes wet just yet. I found this
statement a bit odd coming from a person who normally sets his hashes 80% underwater!
Once again confusion set in as we couldn’t find any flour. With the help of a little old lady, that was obviously tired of having a bunch of drenched hashers standing around in her front yard, she pointed us back north. We picked up traces of flour but that didn’t last long. We continued on for quite a ways not seeing any trail. A half mile or so down the road we decided to back track to the last known mark which was on a pipe running under the road at a water crossing. Someone finally found trail leading through someone’s front yard. About halfway through the yard an arrow was spotted pointing us across the water crossing and into a concrete fabrication yard which led us to a check. This was like looking for a needle in a haystack, no trail whatsoever was ever found. We kept running through the piles of concrete beams towards the back of the yard. Upon exiting the yard to the road a check was spotted under a puddle of water, very clever I thought. We checked north, south and west with no luck. At this point we picked up a few more disillusioned hashers such as “Ball Grabber”, “Smelly Trench”, and “Dickhead” which joined in the hunt. We must have spent a good 20 minutes checking before somebody finally broke the check to the west into a “Fooking Great” swamp filled knee deep in water with briars to boot, you just can’t beat hashing like this. Surprisingly enough trail was still pretty well marked through the swamp since the trees had protected it from the rains. It was a slow process but we managed to make our way through. Even “Muscle Phahrt” made it through, but not before doing his fair share of bitching about the hares. Once out of the swamp it was down the road a bit before we crossed through a business of some sort and back out on a street to a check. “Such-A-Puss” came out of nowhere at this point and began his race for the on home so we all followed. The Circle & On-On-On The circle was short however,
“Tonka” managed to beg some last minute accusations to stretch it out 15 minutes
or so. The hares had a big pot of chili but no propane to heat it so it was off to
the On-On-On which was at Mama’s IceHouse. I’m happy to report the
rednecks had already headed home by the time we arrived. The hand full of us that showed
up got to enjoy cold cheap beer and even cheaper conversation. The last thing I heard was
“Full Service” saying she was going home with “Geek” . . . Did I
happen to mention “Lorna Dunes” wasn’t there! |
SUNDAY, JANUARY 4, 1997 RUN
NUMBER 989 VENUE: ALDEAN HIGH SCHOOL HARES: “GAS LIGHT”, & “P. P.”