Yeah, I ran the Ballbuster trail at the recent 100th run festivities, and yeah, I'm a complete idiot for doing it. However, I survived to tell the tale, so here it is (my version of it, anyway)... By the time the bus finally got on its way, the rain had stopped, but the ground was still muddier than I'd ever believed possible - and that pretty much describes most of the run itself. We drove for a good 40 min. down dirt road after dirt road 'til Blue Balls finally dumped us out into the woods. After a quick bathroom break (during which a park ranger happened to drive up), we charged off into the trees. I don't know for sure where it was we started from, but my current theory is that the trail started on the east side of the park and went southwest, eventually crossing back over the lake on 1097 and heading down towards where we were all camped. I dunno - I get lost easy, and the bus ride got me pretty turned-around. At any rate, the next several hours were spent slogging
through mud up to our knees, jumping streams and ditches, dodging nasty vines full of
thorns, and fucking *obliterating* those poor palmetto plants. It's all kind of a
blur to me, 'cause the pack was moving pretty damn fast - I was mostly just trying to
follow the FRBs and not get lost in the woods. Most of the hashers stuck together
for a good bit in a big pack, but by the time we hit the first water check, we'd already
lost a few folks, and several more had fallen behind by the time we got to the second
water check back at the I was feeling like shit by then, so I fell back a bit as we followed the highway over the lake. Everybody made some quick jaunts into the swamp on the left side of the road, and I *think* that was when the Ballbuster trail hooked up with the Intermediate trail. Me, Grind Slut, Gas Light, and a few other folks paralleled the trail on the road for a bit, and found a second entry point into the woods a little farther down. After that, I think the pack met up with some of the Intermediate runners, but I was DFL-ing, so I'm not real sure. The trail went through this really cool burned-out patch of woods (somebody said there'd been a forest fire *since* the trail was laid; is that just a rumor?), but it didn't take long before it was back into the mud, and I had to pay more attention to keeping my shoes attached to my feet than to the scenery. I eventually met up with The Worm That Turns, and we slogged after the pack through the muck for what seemed like forever. We caught up with them at a bitch of a back-check that had everybody confused for a half-hour or so (well, everybody but Grind Slut, Hand Cream and Licks His Own, who'd bushwhacked past it by following the yells of the Intermediates off in the distance). Pretty soon, though, the pack was off again, and Worm & myself were trudging along by ourselves once more, feeling exhausted and miserable and mildly hypothermic. We only spotted one other hasher after that (sorry, don't know his name), but we could hear the yells and Stray Dog's(?) horn way off in the distance. At what I think was about the 8 or 9 mile mark, we staggered out of the bushes to find a bunch of folks clustered around John Boy's truck at the fourth water-check (we'd already passed the third, but some asshead had already drunk all the damn water...grr). They offered us a ride to the on-home, so we took it. (Yeah, yeah, I'm a wanker - bite me, alright?) A colder-than-hell boat ride and hike down the road (thanks to Pi Whole for helping me keep warm!), and we were back in camp. A quick shower and some food later, and everything was okay once again. Overall, one hell of a run. Crashing through the jungle was a blast, and that had to be the roughest, nastiest shiggy I've seen in my admittedly-limited hashing experience. It was fucking insane. I know I'll look back and remember this one as one of the best runs I ever did, but man - I can also remember wanting to just sit down on a log somewhere along the trail and not get back up again...my balls were definitely busted. Even still, though, I'm damn glad I ran it, and I enjoyed the hell out of it, in some weird masochistic way. The rest of the weekend was damn cool, too - plenty of great food & lots of cool people. To the folks in Mismanagement, the hares & the volunteers who helped set the deal up: you guys rock; I'm already looking forward to the 2000th. ON-ON Jeremy "No Fucking Hash Name" Hart |
THE BALLBUSTER "THE MOTHER OF ALL TRAILS" SATURDAY, MARCH 14, 1998 RUN NUMBER 1000