Another Saturday, another Hash. Hey, weren’t we Hashing only a week ago? Are our lives so empty? Can our livers take the strain? Sadly the rural idyll of Mariaville was replaced this week by the parking lot of a decaying shopping plaza in East Greenbush. But at least there was beer and the promise of shiggy.

Despite lame excuses for absence given by some of the regulars, a fine body of hashers assembled to drain a few anticipatory beverages and prepare to r*n. These included a genuine new hound (Radia) and two virgins: Tom from East Greenbush and Lori from Dr Queers bed. Welcome! Two notable absentees were Sperm Bank and Stickley Bunz who had obviously decided that as McCavity was haring, someone else needed to be really late to the start. Bolstered by alcohol the intrepid pack even refused to be deterred by the hares’ warning that BVFC did not only apply to highways on this run, but to cliff edges.

This submission being written by one of the hares, details of misbehavior (or any behavior at all) on trail will need to supplied by others. And as George W has discovered, you can’t always trust what other people report to you, no matter how much you might want to. Trail attempted to celebrate the glories of American geography ………. a vast canyon …….. a great lake …….. a mountain peak ………. a mighty forest …….. but hey, this is freakin’ East Greenbush so we had to make do with a sand pit, a glorified puddle, a slight ridge and some woods replete with old furniture and abandoned cars. Trail did its best to maximize the suburban shaggy and keep the pack away from death-falls into sand quarries and the local population of supersized hornets, while maintaining a certain “Hey, have we been circle jerked again” feel.

The twin delights of Bodsa and beer were duly discovered after visiting some of medicine’s more conspicuous failures in the East Greenbush cemetery, and the SB’s were finally reunited with their brethren after negotiating some poor trail marking by their fellow hounds. Beer stop over, once again the pack set off into the woods, this time for what purported to be a shortish trail to the on-in. At a bar. Not the hare’s house. A bar. I’ll say this again for One Drunk Watching: “NOT THE HARES HOUSE, AT A BAR!!!!”. The FRB’s decided to ignore the simple instruction to check back 23 and instead raced to the hares house, where McCavity was found completing some party cooking. Refusing the advice to follow trail back through the woods, ODW jumped into his car and set off to find trail. Meanwhile some of the pack were on the right track, some headed to the house and all were confused by ODW claiming “true trail” when he was completely off trail. “Dohh, children”. Order was restored when McCavity was spotted heading to the bar and half the pack followed. The rest of the pack were finally corralled by phone and beer was consumed.

The party moved back to the hares place for circle (watched by some interested bystanders) where the regular rituals were performed for our hares, one virgin (Just Tom having disappeared on trail: a call to his room mate ascertained that this was due to a family problem rather than a cliff dive or a fall into extreme shaggy) and Dr Queer who made her come (with the help of modern medicine so he tells us). FRB was Nice Snatch after Touch Down Jesus pulled up lame just yards from glory, and DAL was awarded to One Drunk Watching for autohashing. Hash shit was a closer than anticipated race, given ODW’s litany of crimes but he finally won out over Sperm Bank (nominated for his inability to check his email for the start time and associated whining) by acclamation (his crimes: running through a check back, autohashing, whining, shouting true trail for no good reason and more whining). Our virgin was then serenaded in the traditional manner before the party commenced.

Counting dogs (and in the Halve Mein Hash dogs are people too, or hounds, or something, though this time Laurel and Hardly Running was a hare……… oh you get the picture) we had our best ever turnout for a non-Red Dress related run. Thanks for coming and we hope to see you all at the BASH in 3 weeks.

On-on,

McCavity

On-On!

If you have anything to add, send a note to thfkad@hmhhh.com.