Driving to the start, "Poke Her Face" and I sat in the air-conditioned comfort of our vehicle observing temperature signs on bank buildings. It became a game, and I won (I have to win at something…) the game of finding the biggest number - a whopping 103 degrees Fahrenheit. The drive was long enough and it was hot enough that it could have been Mexico. South of the Border, and I was ready for a good hash. We assembled at the Petco parking lot on Bay Area Blvd. for a 5pm start. It was pleasant in the parking lot - shoes baking to the dark asphalt (except in the case of "Sinbad", whose feet were melting into the asphalt). Unable to decide whether to slather on sunscreen, bug spray, or ivy block, I opted for a triple combo. Lubed up and ready to go, I basked in the shade of the nearest SUV.
At the hares' signal, the pack headed off across Bay Area Blvd. and onto another black asphalt parking lot. Can we say hot?! I was ready to kill those hares! I kept my eyes on flour and soon things turned for the better. We followed flour through a couple of apartment complexes. The hares were kind enough to lay trail within easy view of crystal clear blue swimming pools. Then, we meandered through a condo complex and met one of its friendly inhabitants. I'll just repeat a few excerpts: "What the hell do you think you guys are doing? (running for beer) "Don't you know this is private property?" (of course, why else would we run through it) "Is someone going to tell me what's going on or do I have to call the police" (tell 'em hi for us when you see 'em). There are some people in this world that could really use a beer. We slipped under the over-reactionary's fence, some more gracefully than others (right, "Balut"?), and onto the golf course. Out of the golf course, we first approached the river. I guess you could call it a river - sewage green in color and smell. Some hashers couldn't wait to jump in; others of us preferred the bridge- crossing a few hundred yards down. Staying on trail paid off, with a water check near the bridge.
After a stint of shiggy, we followed trail through a neighborhood and I, especially, was very excited by the sight of high-pressure sprinklers in many of the yards. I, along with many of my fellow hashers (including soon to be named "Tool Box"), took advantage of the douse (or was that douche?).
We then entered the U of H campus, greeted by a sign reading: "Dangerous wildlife exists on campus" - DUH! Do they really need a sign for that? The campus tour paused at a turtle check. It was great - spiked Gatorade (but no gators), real turtles, and shade. After imbibing on the green liquid, we headed out again - through the woods and to the river. At the river, hounds had two options - the "P" option (poofta, puta…) or the "E option " (eagle, ego…). Half the pack took the "E" option, diving into the stinky river. Those of us protecting the health of our crotch took the longer, but drier "P" option. Not that I don't like to get wet, but…
After another jaunt through the woods, we approached yet another river crossing. Some hashers climbed a fence to reach the river, but I followed "Hooter Bill" down a gully. This time, the beer was in sight, along with FRBs cheering the swimmers. The on-home was in a nice shady location under a bridge. We had a police drive-by, but he didn't even bother to stop. Highlights of the circle included the flouring (or was that de-flouring) of virgin hare "Just Eric", naming of "Tool Box (won out over Double Douche Tush - my personal favorite), and "Sinbad's" accusation (Hamlet style - dog skull in hand) that the hares had left hounds on the trail for dead. The circle closed with a melodic tribute to our friend, Jack Off In the Box, who recently passed away.
The on-on-on was at Sherlock's (right at the start - how convenient!) There was a bit of a mix up on that first free margarita "Puppy Prick" promised us, but we could not complain because there was plenty of yummy Mexican food, several free pitchers of beer, and cheap margaritas. Hey - that's a better deal than in Mexico.
-Bidet Bitch