Hared by Pull the Plug and 8″ Crack 

Nervous that the cold weather and water crossing would keep people at home by their fireplaces, 8″ Crack sent multiple enticing emails luring hashers outdoors with homemade chili and veggie soup and a keg o Blue Moon… with orange slices.  How could we resist her annual birthday celebration?

The hounds met in the grocery store parking lot by Church’s Chicken on Sheldon Road.  The hares kept assuring us that there would be sun, but the skies were so cloudy.  Luckily, the sun popped out right before chalk talk, and the layers of clothing peeled off.  We were ready to rumble!

Under the freeway, and almost immediately into the shiggy.  The ground wasn’t too saturated, at first.  We crossed a few small water crossings with a leap, but there was still the promise of a wader.  I was hoping it would be towards the end, but that was not the case.  Less than halfway through the run, we waded through “fuzzy thermometer” high (B*tt Pirate) hella cold water.  Could still feel our feet. Good sign.

We came across some crazy woman wearing pink Mickey Mouse ears with BB embroidered on the back, hanging out with a cooler of beer.  Brady’s B*tch!  Quite refreshing, although it produced 2 miles worth of ladylike belches.

The second half of the run was a bit soggier.  We trudged in and out of the marshy areas with ankle deep or deeper mucky water.  On-on to the dry street where we passed presumeably a dead dog stuffed in a black garbage bag on the side of the road.  I smelled it first, then looked back to see a tan tail sticking out, then dry heaved for a quarter of a mile. 

Around the corner and down a long straightaway by the railroad tracks, and we see the on-in.  Pick up our bags and walk down a paved road in the brush, and behold!  A fabulously acoustic concrete bunker.  Many of us took shelter to change into warm and dry clothes.  Others enjoyed displaying their chanting skills.

Will He Peter brought his propane heater, and Pee Wee supplied the lovely firepit, where our resident pyro’s played until the fire was roaring and warm.  They were competing for who could provide the perfect kindling, eyes twinkling the entire time.

Delicious chili, veggie soup, tamales, the usual hash snacks, and Blue Moon were served.  Nothing like home cookin’ and a roaring fire to warm us on the inside and out. 

The beer was good… so good, I can’t remember any of the super lame accusations. .. except that Just Nate was finally named.  B*tt Pirate called him out for always finding balls on trail.  The options were discussed amongst the circle, and he went down as Just nate, and he rose as “Ball Tender”.  Congrats, Nate, eeerrrr… Ball Tender.  Perfect naming!

The on-on-on was not far from the start at Ray’s Ice House.  They had a modest selection of beers, but a roomy, warm facility, a kickin’ juke box, pool tables, and a fire hydrant in the men’s room urinal trough.  NARC picked up some Church’s chicken, so we snacked some more.  Thanks, NARC!

The fun continued until late, and most folks were gone by the time we stumbled to the car.  BM2 lost the rock/paper/scissors bout, so he was designated driver.  Yes!

Thanks, 8″ and Pull the Plug for a great trail, on-in and on-on-on!

On-on to the Brass Monkey Hash events at the end of the week and Pooperbowl Sunday!

oo, xx, oo, X, o, XX, x,
[Hug hug, kiss kiss, hug hug, big kiss, little hug, kiss kiss, little kiss] (care of Nacho Libre)
Really? F*@k!