“In Beer we Trust”
February 13, 2000

Warning: This document is highly flamable, do not use near open flame or heavy traffic.  Contents are highly addictive.   Do not talk with food in your mouth.

WH4 Trail #694
February 6, 2000
Fort Reno Park, Tenleytown DC

Finally, the sun shined on the new mismanagement.  Unfortunately, it did not warm up either hashers or snow, as the temperature remained below freezing.  Those of us who disregarded the warnings about absolutely no parking jockeyed for parking off Wisconsin near American University.  And it was icy.

Take Me Drunk I'm Home was filling in at registration for Raise My Titanic, who was recovering from an ankle injury.  Technical medical term for her condition: ankle f*cked up.

We responded to the commands of Fussy Bitch and Perk-A-Set and dutifully circled up in a field of snow sporting a crust coat of ice.  PAS found an asteroid crater buried in the snow and sank nearly to her arse, much to our delight.  She called into the circle herself and the rest of the WH4ers about to depart for Interhash 2000 in Tasmania - your humble scribe included - to lead Father Abe.  After a burst of "He's Down Under!", we were off through the snow on a trail of girly pink flour.

It was not long before the pack prematurely turned from flour to run along Wisconsin Avenue, despite the sight of pink flour on the other side.  Trail Hint #1: Don't lose sight of the hares.  Hare Duck Job was a virtual beacon in his leggings of gold, and he stood his ground on the corner of the wrong turn.  The pack regrouped, crossed Wisconsin, and entered a residential neighborhood.

The first beverage stop was quickly upon us, where $50 Bitch dispensed red anti-freeze in dixie cups.  That was all it took to return warmth and circulation to blue extremities.  Refreshed, we continued on pink.

As the pack turned left to scale Mount Washington, Duck Job lingered at the base camp.  Taking the hint, Ick Liebe Dick, Barney's Bitch, GBOF, Latin Analyst, and I continued at a lower elevation and were rewarded within a couple of blocks by more pink snow.  Fearful that we may have missed the beer stop, we listened for whistles, a sign that the pack was running as opposed to drinking.

Eventually we were forced to climb a brief hill, but the top yielded BEER NEAR and all was well.  Cyclops, Oil of No Lay, Dumb Blonde, and others were already at the taps when I chugged to a stop for my favorite golden beverage.

The hares had chosen as beer stop some park on a hill that was perfect for sleigh riding.  I expect anyone who sledded from the top would go all the way to Virginia.  The uppermost part of the slope was bare, but there was plenty of snow, not all of it yellow, further down.  From the beer stop, trail branched to the right, but Duck Job recommended that Nurse Crotchet and I wait to watch everyone fall on the slickened hill.  We were not disappointed.  The best had to be KY Belly, who arrived upright at the bottom, then retraced his steps up the hill to retrieve the fallen glove of his friend.  He took the fast path down, and wore mud and grass to prove it.

As we approached American University we could hear much cheering and screaming.  A large cluster of students was the source of the noise, and Def Lesbian appeared to be the cause; he was seen emerging from the midst of the cluster with a barrage of snowballs following.
With the snow and ice piled up along the sides of the streets, there just wasn't enough room for cars and hashers, and the drivers had a difficult time accepting that.  Another hill.  "Permission to walk."  "Permission granted."  Thank you, Ivy Licker.  Transparent Ds jogged by, easy to do with Pekoe pulling her along.

On In was up a flight of icy steps and down the street to Shitty Shitty Bang Bang.  Deposit In The Rear was slicing and serving a fantastic cake in celebration of her birthday.  Just Camilla got the last piece but dropped it, so she and the rest of you will just have to take my word for it.

Finally, RA Where-Da-Fa-Khawe blew his whistle and circled the troops.  Hares Fellatio Throw, $50 Bitch, and Duck Job were brought into the circle and assessed one down-down for disturbing the peace and tranquility of some swank neighborhoods.  And for their trail.  Beer Slut made his debut as Beer Bitch and did his title proud.

Despite the cool temps, numerous virgins hashed and even stayed for the circle:  $50 Bitch made Just Tom and Just Steve cum; Too Slow made Just Liz and Just Kate cum; the solo cummings were Just Bob (Back Snatch), Just Robbie (Missed Errections), Just Bill (Put It Out), Just Merit (I Didn't See It Cumming), and finally Just Steve came on his own!

Visitors were Just Jarka from New York FMH3, Just Jay from EWH3, Flesh Torpedo from Boston, and Elvis from Moscow, who thought the weather was balmy.

The temperature dropped another 18 degrees.  The tranquility of the evening was broken as one and then another ass cheek froze off its owner, fell and shattered on the snow.

There were lots of violations but we were too cold to bother with most of them.  However, we could not escape the sight of Just Dave and Just Tom with cell phones attached to their ears.  What phone call could possible be more important that the circle?   Tez's Smirnoff Smirk's birthday was announced.  She walked carefully 'mongst the frozen asses and entered the circle.  Assorted other violators joined her and they all drank to a fine chorus of Happy B-Day F-You.

Temperature hit zero.

Out back Bolo Head Rat just couldn't resist inflicting yellow snow on a tree.  The clinking sound of his frozen urine hitting the trunk gave him away.  He was summarily called on the carpet and nominated for the Hash Shit.

The last whistle froze solid.

Our charming grand mistress Perk-A-Set was also nominated for some inane charge.  The ice-encrusted wankers realized, however slowly, that our beloved hashshit would never be seen again if she took it down under with her, BHR was awarded the honor unanimously.

Polar bears began circling our circle and eying stragglers.

MFC, who was clearly enjoying himself here on the frozen tundra, came forward to announce the next Full Moon hash with some damn Wisconsin bowling theme, only to add that he would be in Sunny Tazzzmania and missing it.

One private party was attacked and consumed by bears.  No one noticed the bloody show, however, and the survivors swung low and retired to thaw out at the MaltShop.

Gratuitous mention-of-the-week: Barney's Bitch.

That’s the last you’ll hear from me this month.  Happy hashing, and On On!  LateComer.

Next Week’s Hash: Beautiful S. Arlington VA
Hares: Steers & Queers, etal.
Start:  Towers Park behind Columbia Crossing Apts (Columbia Pike & Scott St—‘‘tween Washington Blvd & Glebe Rd)
ONoNoN:  Columbia Crossing Clubhouse