Hare: Estrus
Write-up by: Will-He-Peter
Like several other Hashers...
I arrived at the Katy city limits just after the entire pack vanished from sight in a westward direction occasionally making weak bleating On-On sounds as they vanished. Quickly doffing my bike gear and donning last week’s running togs (which I had forgotten to take out of my hash bag) I ambled off in cold pursuit. Oh, did I mention it was raining?
The pack seemed to wander about a bit as I arrived at a dinky looking check in a windy parking lot on the edge of civilization. Then, as if seeking warmer climates they all ran fucking south without even asking my permission down some forgotten waste water concrete ditch thing which didn’t seem to go anywhere. Oh, did I mention it was windy?
I followed and nobody even looked back to see if perhaps they might be leaving injured and frozen hashers struggling in their wake. Now, allow me a moment of candor; I was not, and never was really on trial once we went into the reservoir doo-hicky that keeps God from wiping downtown Houston off the map the way he did in Noah’s time. (Yes, yes he did; that’s exactly what he did!) Now, where was I ? Oh, yes; did I mention it was cold?
The trail went west, north, east, south, south, east, south, west, south, east, etc. The woods were wet and sticky and the ground was muddy and there were lots of weeds and trees but not too many of those sticky things. Some Hashers picked north, some east, some south, and some west and soon there were Hashers running in all directions and all of them were On. At least that’s what they said. I followed one group for awhile until their voices got too far away (or too tired) and then I followed another group until they either ran off and left me or died somewhere in the woods. Either way I didn’t fucking care; I was all alone, dragging my tired self along like a dead goat and nobody even fell behind to talk to me. Did I mention that cow poop stank up large portions of the trial?
Most of the rest of the trail was along a muddy creek bank that the Hash turned into black mush as they ran loop after loop in the woods trying to find a way out. Some Hashers like Eraserhead had enough and jumped up on the levy thingy and ran to the end. Others like Rear-Layer got lucky at the power lines and skipped a large portion of the trail by missing a big loop. Others like Muscle Fart and Kinky did their best to run true trail (stupid fucking loops and all) and came in just before dark to dig through their bags for something warm to put on. I, cry baby that I am, decided to take a short cut back to the cars and “Geek” to the end.
Nobody seemed to care. Maybe they were too numb too complain but I snaked in after parking my car and tried to get a beer while “Tha” was begging for accusations from the freezing crowd. I heard Full Service (?) talking about food. I said, “Oh, did I mention I was hungry?” But, there was no food at the “Damn Ice House” so I went home to Baby.
Oh, yes; Geek, I promise to mail you the directions to the On-Home as soon as I get around to cleaning out my car.
On-Out.
Will-He-Peter