Hares: Saran Crap and Manhandler, with help from Pull the Plug and Pipes

Saran Crap stepped up at the last minute to hare the trail that put an end to Crab Hash weekend. Following his harrowing brush with a pack of wild dogs during a rogue run, Crap vowed revenge on the hash with a trail that was to be called Reservoir Dogs!

Unfortunately, Addicks Reservoir was still full of Hurricane Ike bilge water, so a change of plans was in order. Craps live-hared trail instead started at a strip mall parking lot near Wilcrest and Memorial Drive.

The first check had the pack flummoxed, and more than 30 hounds waited in line to squeeze through a hole in the fence one-by-one, finding themselves on the banks of a drainage ditch overlooking a park. Some ran south, some ran north, but most finally found the next mark, and then a check under the bridge where Memorial Drive crossed the ditch.

I can’t tell you much more about trail because it was then that I heard the panicked cries of Momma’s Boy:

“MEDIC! MEDIC! We need a tourniquet STAT!”

My mind raced, wonder what could have happened. Did someone fall and break their arm? Hit their head. I heard cried further ahead of “On On!” but before me lay a “creek” of broken slabs of concrete and and nasty water. I yelled out “You can use Gus’ leash, or I have a clean bandanna!” And then I saw PeeWee, the folds of his ripped flesh flapping as he crawled up the embankment towards street level.

And then I almost passed out.

Turns out PeeWee’s rebar-sliced wound was not so bad. It just looked gross, but only required a dozen or so stitches. Since I had a cellphone in my Camelbak I sat with PeeWee on the side of Memorial while Powertool and Cummi Bear and Can’t Touch This ran back to the cars, which were thankfully close. The guys loaded PW into the back of Powertool’s truck, a helpful motorist stopped to give them directions to the closest hospital, and away they went.

Having spent more than half an hour waiting, CTT and I decided to auto-wank to the end, where we met the pack just as they were coming in.

But wait! There’s more drama. While I was unloading bags from the shag wagon, Pipes and Saran tapped the keg, only to find out it was bad! And then, as hounds trickled in we began to hear stories of a woman at the Audubon Society Bird Sanctuary screaming at hashers running through the park. (Said woman was later to call the hash line and express her displeasure, saying next time the hash trespasses, she’s gonna call the cops on us).

During circle, Pipes gave regular updates on PW’s condition, and Pull the Plug, who was running behind PW on trail during the “incident” and who had purchased the keg of bunk beer, was made to drink for trying to kill the hash!

The On On On was at Shakespeare’s Pub, and PeeWee showed up, freshly sewn, to wallow in the sympathies and attention. He brought along his nurse, who by some coincidence was also once a hasher. Even stranger still, she had previously lived in the tiny village occupied by Snatcha and Krusty during their stint in Korea. It’s a small world after all.

— On On from your scribe, Snatcha