ELEPHANT HASH Run #1014 Venue: Sugarland - Hwy 59 @ Hwy 6 Hares: Smelly Trench, Low Life, Vickar Licker, Frank? It was a dark and stormy night ....... I wish!  The truth is that that it was the heat of the day.  During the drive to Sugarland, I noticed that the car dealership signs were displaying temperatures of 103 - 104 degrees.  While most civilians were cowering from the heat in their homes and automobiles, the hashers came out in droves.  We were unafraid  daring  stupid.   The hares mumbled some gibberish about what trail was marked in (surprise - flour!) and some other stuff, but no one really paid too much attention until we heard "that way" and that hares pointed to the south.  We were off like a pack of bacon in that direction.  We cut through a strip center to a sidewalk along a pond, where we found flour.  We had actually shortcut past the first few marks, so when we headed west, we were following trail backwards.  There were three or four marks in this direction and then nothing.  The only reason I mention it is to point out that there are three kinds of hashers: 

(Type I)
The Hasher that figures out what happened rather quickly and goes the right way.

(Type II)
The Hasher that spends a great deal of time trying to figure out what happened before going the right way

(Hooter Bill)
The Hasher that spends a great deal of time trying to figure out what happened before going the right way, and then spends triple that amount of time bitching about the trail being "wrong" when he gets to the end.

However, I digress - on with the story.  After figuring out that we had actually run the trail backwards, I turned around and was soon "on" along with a small pack.  The hares snickered at us as we ran back by the start and towards 59.  Soon we found a check  and were faced with the choice of wading through hip deep "pluff mud" under 59, or running across the highway to get to the north side.  I chose the former. 

As I waded down into the muck, I saw "Silent Dick" in front of me covered with snakes.  Quickly, I grabbed a long stick and heroically pushed him out of the way so that the snakes could not get to me.   There was a terrible commotion going on above me, and when I emerged on the north side of 59 I saw that the hashers  who had chosen to cross over 59 had caused a 20 car pile-up to rival any C.H.I.P.s episode. 

No matter, because for the time being I was WINNING the hash.  Several hashers were mauled by a couple of wild stallions in the field we went through, but I escaped without harm.  We were maybe 15 minutes into the trail at this point and most of us were ready to stop.  It was HOT.  Most of the rest of the trail was a blur (or more appropriately, a mirage) up to the turtle check.  The hares had plenty of cold water and beer, and I believe that there was more water consumed than beer. 

After we cooled down a bit, the hares sent us back into the grueling heat.  The rest of the trail was mostly residential areas which are not too interesting unless you happen to be "Will He-Peter" or "Fed-Ex".  These two rode their bikes, which was apparently much easier than running.  I say this because while most of us were too hot and tired to speak on trail, I overheard one of two bikers make this comment as we passed one house:  "Now, this house has a real Colonial flavor to it!".  My only solace was the fact that I knew it was an iron clad accusation.

At the end of the run we had shade, and after cooling down it was rather pleasant.  We had cold beer, a good circle and plenty of food.  What more could you ask for? On-On! Saran Crap

On Up!