Dickhead -- Queen of the Dicks

The 5th annual dick-off run started in West Houston near the intersection of Beltway 8 and Westview. There had been quite a bit of pre-hash publicity for this run. The hounds were encouraged to bring along flashlights, indicating that there would be a subterranean twist. I assumed that the hares just wanted the satisfaction of watching the pack lug along flashlights for a typical dick-off death march. Just before the start of the run, the Wal-Mart security force showed up to roust the forming crowd. Luckily, Squeaky Dick was there and was able to defuse the situation when he showed his police credentials and gave the rent-a-cops the "I'm on the take too" wink and nod. Anyway, the hares took up there positions on the tailgate of the shag-wagon and started giving trail instructions. Dickhead began by describing the day's trail as a "trail that will live in infamy". The hares then dispensed some unnecessary bullshit about how to safely cross deep water and descend steep cliffs. Silent Dick worked in a couple of awful puns. With that, they pointed us to the east. On On.

The first trail markings were spotted on the east side of the beltway. The trail went up a dirt road and over some mounds of garbage to another road. A backcheck was found at the end of the road and I headed north and immediately found trail. I quickly grew bored of my newfound FRB status and decided to ease off so as not to damage Gonad's sensitive ego. The trail next went through a park that included two treacherous hurricane fence crossings. Of course, this put us back on the previously mentioned road, just beyond the back check. We eventually came to a concrete ditch that led to an ominous black hole with a large arrow pointing into it. On In.

Deep in the Bowels of West Houston

The tunnel which was about 10' on a side (actually large enough to run through) made a ninety degree turn to the West once we were inside and got very dark quick, thus the flashlights. The water in the tunnel was about six inches deep and was scattered with debris and sludge, possibly organic. After what seemed like a half mile of straight tunnel we made another turn and emerged into the daylight to be greeted by the front-runners (and short-cutters) who were already refreshing themselves at the beer check.

Cluster Fuck at Town and Country

The trail from the beer check apparently followed some railroad tracks. Unfortunately, a train was parked on the markings so the pack spent fifteen minutes at the intersection of I-10 and Beltway 8 before Chap-A-Quickdick showed up and pointed us in the right direction. The next 20 minutes were spent running west Houston concrete, which eventually led to another ditch, and yes, another long tunnel, and then another ditch, and then another tunnel. The last tunnel dropped off into Buffalo Bayou. I think this was the source of the deep water warning the hares gave because I went in over my head. The trail wound along the bayou and eventually we were greeted with the familiar beer arrow that indicated the On Home was close. I felt cheated without the Dickhead trademark -- a 2 mile straight away to the end. Nevertheless, this was one of the better shiggy trails in recent memory, hashing the way it was meant to be (dickhead, payment in cash, no checks please).

The On Home was under Beltway 8 where it crosses Buffalo Bayou. A large group had already made it to the end by using a new method of shortcutting known as Omni hashing. Not much is known about this group except that they are led by Gonad the Barbarian who they refer to as Mother. As often happens at the On Home, down downs began. I can't comment on the hare's down downs, since at that moment I was busy refilling my beer. There were two new boots -- females -- Valerie and Amy who were enticed into hashing by Hog Straddler and Goes Both Ways, respectively. There was a visiting harriette from Germany (by way of Spain) named Fried Eggs.

I hate to cut things short, but one of my favorite Partridge Family episodes just came on. The On On On was at T.D.'s.