Run 635
Hares: Yes Dear & Ranger Dick
Location: Maryland

Our trail today was "laid" by Yes Dear and Ranger Dick, now there's a combination you just don't see everyday. Quick someone erase that image from my head before it explodes! But damn, they did a fine job, even if it meant driving ALL THE WAY TO - MARYLAND.

For many of our august crowd, the drive to the start was as perilous as the trail itself. It seems Marylanders are so good-natured that they often offer to change your car radio station for you - from their car. Isn't that right Cunning Runt? (Damned Maryland drivers!) If you survived Marylander's highway hospitality and were able to follow those oh so clear directions, you arrived at a familiar start - the Park & Ride off of Tech Road. You know, the one with absolutely no place to do your business before you do your hashing. It was here that a fairly large crowd of ne'er-do-wells (or using the more formal vernacular, wankers) assembled.

At some hashes, the pre-hash activities are more fun than the hash itself and today's trail seemed to be heading that way. First we were blessed with the appearance of the blonde goddess, Fly The Friendly Thighs. The line of "gentlemen" to help FTFT get back into the saddle started behind Quick Drawers and just kept going. (I was second!) The arrival of a boatload of dogs soon had everyone scurrying for cover as they just didn't seem to be able to get along. Of course there was lots of kibitzing. My personal favorite was the tale of how FrenchToasted (or is it Mr. Magoo?) can't read Pittsburgh trail markings any better than MVH³ markings. Anyway, with a flash of flour the hares were off.

Eventually Wankers Aweigh decided that we had wasted enough time standing around and a rapid-fire 'Ather Abraham was conducted by three gents in way-cool headgear. Just as we exited the parking lot there was a check. Now let's see, we all watched as both hares ran down the same street after laying the check. So which way does Byte Lightning want to run? If you said to the right give yourself two points. Thankfully peer pressure prevailed and the pack continued on down the road.

The next check was tricky as no flour was found for at least a quarter mile in any direction. Missing Link and some dude with two dogs headed down along a paved path. Naturally no one followed Link. The regular FRB's scrambled over hill, under dale (yes she was wearing panties) and behind a bunch of townhouses. Nothing. Just then Lady Bugger started sass'n the FRB's about how they couldn't find their way out of a wet paper bag. Now that may be true, but you shouldn't mouth off to a scribe - even a temporary one. I think she learned her lesson, well at least she got a free beer out of it. There was also a Wilburr moment at this juncture. Wilburr was anxiously collecting folks about him and explaining that they should get the "youngsters" to go off and find true trail. What most of these folks didn't realize is that they are all younger than Wilburr (in case you didn't know, Wilburr is as old as dirt) and so, they would have to do the work of finding trail for him. Just as the crowd was beginning to understand this, off in the distance a whistle and perhaps an On-On was heard. Lucky Wilburr. Desperate to find the trail that would lead to beer, the pack rolled forward.

After running through a couple of nice neighborhoods, we entered some wooded trails. You know, there is nothing like the smell of decaying, rotting leaves and sticks first thing in the morning. If you survived the ankle destroying obstacles - wet leaf covered rocks, twigs, sticks, trees, etc. - your treat was an icy water crossing. That was until the hares started us running in the creek. WooHoo. Talk about male shrinkage, even Byte was small today.

Just before exiting the woods, we ran by an old Down-Down site. It brought back such sweet memories - ah, ice cold beer, half-naked ladies. That lasted for a microsecond or two as true trail was found headed…up a hill. We were unceremoniously dumped into an industrial park where Byte having taken lessons from French Toasted ran through several trail markings, turned around and came back claiming no flour. It was Missing Link - and get this - FrenchToasted who "re-found" true trail and carried us back into the woods. What is with FT these days anyway? He is running like a big dog.

We followed a squirrelly little trail down a hill and then poof, no flour. A handful of FRBs headed left for no reason. Other hashers backtracked to the last flour mark and camped there hoping someone would tell them where to go next. Because He Can stumbled through some flesh rendering briars and found the white stuff along a fence line. So off we went. Eventually the pack cam crashing down another hill to a stream. Byte, Link, See Dick Run, and CallGirl. A small, but clever mini-pack gathered at the base of this might hill waiting for them to return - it was an obvious BT. However, it was here that Because He Can began to work is evil magic…eventually convincing most of us that it was true trail and that we had better scurry on up. Well, surprise, surprise. Just as we reach the top of the blasted hill the words BT come drifting through the woods.BASTARD.