Hares:  Estrus and Infested

The hares convened the pack in a lovely parking lot under the harsh December sun. Virgins were treated to a chalk talk, told to look for flour as well as Hooter Bill-approved flagging tape on the trees. Then the pack was loosed into the Ant Hills trails. There was a considerable effort to solve the trail’s first check at Dairy Ashford, until true trail was found eastward along Buffalo Bayou. Flour weaved through the trees, dodging mountain bikers and sober Sunday strollers on its course. Checks were frequent, perhaps every quarter mile, always leading eastward along the bayou. Horace Greeley’s evil twin himself might have advised the hares on their path, entreating them to always “head [east] [old] man.”

Unperturbed, the hounds sauntered on, passing under Kirkwood, and thence Wilcrest in their course. After negotiating some gnarly jumps and bros with wicked air in the sylvan BMX park, the beer check was found at trail 1817‘s On In. All were careful not to moon careless bystanders whilst enjoying their Busch Lites. Tap the Ozarks! Moving on, trail led past Casa de Whale’s Vagina and into a residentialized zone. A friendly neighbor offered hose showers to the passing sweaty rabble. The pavement gradually yielded to some trash-strewn shiggy after passing by a cowboy-themed theatrical rehearsal. Seriously, are we not in The Montrose? Once again, flour led back to the On In near, you guessed it, the bayou. Here the recent arrived could observe late-cummers divining the last legs of trail. True trail led across a surprisingly cold and swift flowing current of poison water to the other shore. Lamer hounds and harriettes zenned across the pedestrian footbridge not a hundred feet further. Here the pack enjoyed beer and snacks, if you can imagine that. Continue reading →