Date: September 27, 1998
Hares: Raise My Titanic, West Virginia Woodie, Das Beaver, and (just) Sarah
Location: Dunn Loring Metro
The DC area was in the midst of record-setting heat when the pack assembled at the Dunn Loring Metro parking lot prior to the White House Hash House Harriers 617th trail. We were missing many of our regulars, losing them to such events as World Interhash '98, and Oktoberfest. Eat It Raw and Champagne Charlie were operating registration, while Cyclops patrolled the perimeter. I, having the honor of working with our scribe, Big Bird Turd, was entrapped into filling his ample scribe shoes (it's better than drinking from them) while he represents us at World Interhash '98. And I, being not born yesterday, passed the job on to others, thus relieving myself of the burden of being an FRB.
Eventually, the pack was whistled to start, around a circle of blue flour. Fussy Bitch, on crutches, led Father Abraham. Upon hearing instructions from the hares, the pack took off in a completely clueless manner, following nicely paired up pristine white and toxic blue splotches of flour down Prosperity Ave and through a non-descript industrial park. Soon the blue (walking) and white trails diverged leading the pack down into the heart of Merrifield.
At the first check out of sight of the start the half-brained nature of hashers came shining through. 3/4 of the pack went straight on through, only to be crash head (who said head?) on into a BT. Back to the check and what do you know that nice black, straight asphalt path off to the right actually was true trail. Thank God Raise My Titanic was sweeping behind to keep anyone from getting too far out of orbit. Miraculously, as the pack turned down this path the all-of-a-sudden FRBs came face to face with the walkers, who wondered what had taken everyone so long.
The nice smooth asphalt was short lasted, though, as a hare's arrow directed true trail down into a muddy stream bed, only to lead into a SHORT LOW triple tunnel under I66. Those devious hares had kindly labeled each for 'Swimmers' and 'Non-swimmers'. Of course, a bunch of deviants, led by (just) Chris--soon to be PullsItOut--splashed headlong into the swimmers slot. Hunched over and wading through 18" of stagnant water and a foot of mud, you couldn't help but wonder what infectious diseases awaited those whose vaccinations weren't up to date. We're talking shiggy with a capital S here. Choruses of "kill the hares" echoed off the walls until 50 meters later daylight returned. (Actually, those "little women" hares probably could have made it through this subterranean passage standing fully erect [who said erect?].) Looney managed to sniff out flour leading further up the creek, through the back yards of Vienna, and led the wankers up stream. After getting some strange looks from the Viennese out enjoying the afternoon, the pack passed under Cottage Street and wound up back on good, hard sidewalks.
Somehow two more checks were solved in no quick order, and the rambling horde made it up on across Cedar Lane towards a well deserved beer check behind a shopping center. A wonderful spread of agua and golden nectar had been laid out by the lovely Vominatrix, who saw that all thirsts were quickly sated. After 15 minutes of yapping and lapping, the "little women" began yelling oNoN and pointing the pack off toward Park Street and the rest of the trail.
Quickly the blue and white hash diverged once again, and the runners commenced a somewhat random search for flour on the grounds of Thoreau Intermediate school. While (just) Craig and PutItOut blindly shortcutted the schoolyard, oNoN was soon called further up Cedar Lane and the pack was off. Down one street and up the other brought true trail in the back door of a small park where the FRBs found our brew crew just setting up their wares--all within 11 ft of two fully loaded porta-potties. Talk about sweet nectar!! While Vominatrix apologized for having run out of water at the 1st beer check, no one seemed to mind downing another brewsky before heading (damn.... there's that word again) out. Just as we were getting comfortable, another of the little women roused up the pack and sent them off to find true trail leading back down Gallows Road and on in.
OK, I was enjoying a rare moment as FRB (the pack was chasing a BT), when I saw the 'Swimmers' and 'Non-swimmers' holes, and decided to look for an alternative with a higher clearance. Bramble Bush, Latin Analyst, and I zenned along the I66 barrier, in search of an overland trail, eventually coming across blue flour. Opting to follow the blue, we soon spied Eat It Raw and No Genitals strolling along, shoes dry, and we blended in with the pack.
We soon passed a small playground, where the kids on the swings bore a strong resemblance to our hares. Have we run all the way to West Virginia? Sure seems like it, Woodie.
Further on, we found the long-sought passage over I66, hung a ralphie onto Cedar, and spied the FRBs sprinting across the street just a couple of blocks ahead. We caught them at the beer stop, and joined them for refreshment. Great job, Brew Crew, for icing the water!
During the break, rumor had it that the runners were blowing off the longer running trail for the shorter, cooler blue trail. It did not take long to attract several weary road warriors to the plan, so when the white trail went left and blue trail went right, Hurly Gurly Man, Hollow Point, and Hyman Dickover were seen running with the blues. Trail took us by another school, where long- time-no-seer Crack Shot intercepted a pass, ran for a touchdown, and continued running, with the ball, back to Dunn Loring Metro, and the end of our trail. Don't think for a minute that the blue trail was easy! We had our share of woes along the way, too. We only got one beer stop, and I broke a nail.
It was hot, we were sweaty.
Good job, hares, for a well-set trail! Soon the runners of the white trail began to trickle in, Sh*tty Sh*tty Bang Bang careened into the parking lot, the kegs were tapped, and oreos passed around. It was easy to determine which hashers had traversed the tunnels, they were the ones with big patches of tunnel-roof-oogies on the back of their shirts. Circle, led by Cyclops and Where- da-Fuckawe was called, and called, and called, and finally the deviates obeyed. Hares were called into the circle, where they drank for a typically shitty trail. Then they drank for having a beer stop downwind of a porta-potty. (I personally thought the ripe porta- potties were a good touch, but then again, I shortcut that part of the trail.) Next virgins were called forth:
| Name | Who Made Them Come | Temporary Hash Name |
|---|---|---|
| Tom | Chris (soon to be named Pulls it out) | Crisco Kid |
| David | Mike | Bar-O-Butter |
| Laszlo | (*#@&$@*&# (translation?) | Confused Penis |
| Barreett | Jen Nord (?) | Black Ball |
| Andy | Some guy named Byron | Eunoch |
| Kristine | Crack Shot | Crack Up |
| Rachael | Roberto | Diaper Rash |
| Doug | Fudge Lick Her & Submission Bitch (Tidewater) - tried to convince us that the virgin Rachael made him come | Follow the Leader |
The virgins then drank again because Doug wore a hat in the circle, and refused to identify who made him come. (He insisted it was the virgin Rachael, who insisted she had never seen him before. I think Doug will be a good hasher.)
And then the visitors were beckoned:
| Hasher | Home Hash |
|---|---|
| Coffee | Albania |
| John Travolta | Nairobi |
| Oogwagwa | Kigali |
| Curly Cock | San Diego |
| Submission Bitch | Tidewater |
| Fudge Lick Her | Tidewater |
We were blessed today with the presence of a couple of special visitors: Cinderallas! Oooh, Noah's Ark and Foreplay Before Intercourse (FBI), who entwined elbows to gracefully drink from their yummy new shoes.
Roberto and Needle 'N' Thread then drank for being diaper boys (I didn't understand this part, but it worked for them, perhaps I can expand on this in the next edition).
Then there were the down-downs for infractions. Noah's Ark - environmental?!? Noah's Ark?!? Are you serious?!? NOAH'S ARK?!? And of course the ever present Latecummers: Tick Cock, Charsey, Goofy, French Toasted, Just John, and Latecummer. In the infraction-for-being-a-hero category, we had No Genitals, who ran the GW Cancer 10K earlier in the day, and Slip Knot, ran Tyson's Women's Center 10K and had the audacity to wear his number (#6969) on trail!
Oh, it was a very solemn day, for we had three most solemn occasions: NAMINGS! (Just) Pete, (just) Chris, and (just) Adrian were to shed their other world monikers for the much heralded hash names. First, Pete was summoned to kneel before the pack. Potential names for (just) Pete were 'Sorry My Knees Hurt', 'Pussy Feet', 'Ditch the Bitch', and 'Dumpster Diver'. After very little deliberation, it was decided that (just) Pete will forever more be known in the White House Hash House Harriers, and throughout the world of hashing, as
Thence forth came (just) Chris to kneel before the pack. Names thrown about for (just) Chris were 'Pulls It Out', 'Free Ride', 'Tandem Humper', '"L" Rule, and 'Air Balls'. Following a very democratic vote, it was decided that (just) Chris will forever more be known in the White House Hash House Harriers, and throughout the world of hashing, as
By the time we got around to (just) Adrian, the pack was tapped dry of creativity and over-beered (is there such a thing?), and chose to postpone his naming. Perhaps next week, (just) Adrian, when you are a hare... Hats off, pots on the ground, it's Swing Low time, then time to retire to Neighbors Bar and Grill for 2-lb burgers and buckets o' fries. A good time was had by all.
On On, Latecummer
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WE ARE ALWAYS LOOKING FOR HARES. If interested, contact GBOF at 703-876-4772.
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InterAmericas Hash 99 September 3-6 1999, Hosted by Pittsburgh H3 "http://www.transarc.com/afs/transarc.com/public/demi/html/ph3- home.html", Pennsylvania. Contact Jim "Whiff" Montgomery, (412) 431- 7350, or "Dead Kennedy," e-mail brady@serviceware.com. Official address: InterAmericas Hash '99, John Olson, 723 5th St, Oakmont, PA 15139 USA. e-mail IAH99@webtv.net - Internet: "http://www.interhash.simplenet.com/REGFORM.html" (rego form).
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