(“The Leeches up Your Arsehole Hash”)
Hares: John Boy & Stop-n-Blow
Sunday, 09/18/95
Run number: Ask Geek
By special assignment reporter: Grind Slut
A relatively small but hard-core contingent of Houston's finest hashers gathered at the Toys-R-Us parking lot just south of the San Jacinto River bridge on Highway 59. Warnings on the hashline all week about "plentiful poison ivy", "not one inch of pavement", "contest to see who could pick up the most leeches", etc., served to keep the wankers home, with a vague hint of the possibility of trespassing warding off Muscle Phartt. A large rainstorm that moved in just prior to the start added to the pre-run suspense - and removed any trepidation anyone might have about getting wet later on trail. My previous knowledge of this area was that of the "Muddy the Mudskipper" Hash (Nov. '92), the famous "Green Slime Hash" last fall( which coincidentally was Stop-n-Blow's virgin haring experience exactly one year ago), and the already legendary "Ironman/Tropical Storm Hash"(July this year). Shiggy-loving veterans of those three hashes had expectant looks in their eyes as we were pointed roughly in the direction of the first on mark.
Right away it was obvious that the brief but intense rain had all but obliterated the hares' work - this was especially obvious after spending fifteen minutes attempting to determine if a blob of flour was originally a check, a false, or a backcheck. Shortly thereafter, hare John boy showed up with a bag of flour, asked for a ten minute headstart, and proceeded to live hare re-lay the trail. We gave him five, and on we went.
The entire run from that point onward was basically a repeating series of sticker forest, cypress and duckweed ponds, sand levees, fallen trees, river swims, old logging roads, and mud bogs that were typically at least two feet of shoe-sucking mud topped by six inches of water. Added to that mix were giant black horseflies, ants, and occasional eyeball-juice sucking spiders. What about the leeches? Blueballs later informed me that Eargasm surfaced from a shiggy pond with one, but that was the only confirmed report ( Pigpen told us about the leeches in Malaysia that crawl into your shoes, or , alternatively, up your leg and in between your ass cheeks. Gonad was later seen squeezing out some mudfish and then checking to see if he had any "riders".)
The trail was initially confusing(and treacherous) enough to keep the pack together and the FRB's doing the "front to back-back to front", but soon enough a race developed among the pack that had the endurance ( and masochism) to keep up a pace through the quadriceps-roasting terrain. Gonad, Small Johnson, Charlie(no hash name, but known to some as "Skippy"), Catamite, Grind Slut, and a few others (sorry if I can't remember right off hand) managed to get ahead at the swim crossing of Spring creek and never looked back. From that point on, it was pretty cutthroat, with no mercy to the fallen. Trail justice was served swiftly and without prejudice. Case in point: Hog Straddler, witnessing Charlie do a face plant into the muddy slime, laughed mightily at the misfortune of his hash brother. The Hash Gods then caused a vine to wrap itself around Hog's ankle and swiftly dropped him to the ground (I swear that's what happened).
The shig was so thick that I was not twenty feet away from the on-home when I spotted John boy's red pickup through the gloom. With Charlie hot on my heels, I dived over a briar covered chain link fence and did a somersault to nip him out for FRB honors. Boy did we ever get busted for racing. Good thing there wasn't a fire ant mound or stray rebar poking up.
The remainder of the hares came in shortly thereafter. Typical On-on, with two kegs, assorted munchies, showing off of hash wounds(there were plenty), and of course, the ubiquitous fire ants.
I didn't go to the on-on-on, so I couldn't say whether or not they had pristine neighborhood swimming pool with fifty naked hashers in it. All I can say is that this was a damn fine hash. Any of you new boots out there who want some good virgin haring experience - put John Boy and Stop-n-Blow on your list.
Epilogue: Baby Huey and Manhandler were DFL by about an hour- it seems they ran off down the train tracks and were never seen again.