Tale of the Trail – CH3 #1519

Hash Trash: 11/25/07
Run: 1519
Hares: Super Stuffer & Just Steve
Venue: O’Lanagan’s – 2335 W. Montrose Ave

Virgins: 3 (or was it 4? – hey, am I a great scribe or what!)

Visitors: 1 (2, if you think CP is a visitor)

Hashers: A bunch of ‘em including Canned Pussy, Magnetic Muff, Special Ed Giver, Sir Poops a Lot, Lifa, Virtually Hung, Pack ‘er Ass, Just Saud, Happy Ass Grabber, General Ass Pounder, Just Tyrone, Just Melissa, Wall Bang Her, Just Tom, Just John, Just Jennie, Just Steve, Super Stuff `er and probably a few others that aren’t written on this torn paper plate I’m reading from.

A double-virgin haring? We all cringed at the start, knowing that the result would be at least one of:

1. The on-out being too close to the on-in, causing the pack to skip 90% of the trail.

2. The hares using “cute” trail markings that no one can understand and thus causing the pack to skip 89% of the trail.

3. The marks being so small/infrequent/ hidden/hard- to-see that the pack will give up and miss 88% of the trail.

4. The hares deciding on the theme of “we’re going to make this the longest hash run ever” causing everyone but Happy Ass Grabber to take a taxi to the finish.

Or worse yet…

1. The bar wouldn’t tolerate our antics.

2. The beer would be shitty/warm/ expensive.

Amazingly none of this happened, and even more amazingly the trail was actually damn good. Super Stuff `er started us off by providing the chalk talk while being chastised by the circle for not being explicit enough for the virgins. We were warned that this was an ADD run, and that if we found ourselves on the trail without chalk marks, we should follow shiny objects instead.

After the usual introductions, we spotted our first shiny object (aluminum foil) on a tree across the street in Welles Park and soon thereafter found the first check. Virtually Hung quickly figured it out and led us north toward Lawrence Ave. We veered west and proceeded to make something like 11 left turns in a row, covering every inch of street, alley and parking lot available. Crossing the river on Wilson, a check mixed up the pack for a few minutes, but 50~60 chalk arrows were finally found on the Lawrence Bridge bringing us to the beer stop at the hare’s mother’s house. There was a beer cooler and a couple dozen beer bottles on the back deck, along with a woman looking out the window with a “what have you freaks done to my son” look on her face. The pack guzzled nectar in the cold and endured a 1/2 mile run back to the on-in. Well done hares.

The stand-in RA was Virtually Hung, and he dispensed a bunch of well-deserved down-downs of which I have no recollection because I was very busy talking and interrupting the circle. What I do recall is the complete absence of mismanagement members. What could have happened? Did they move the hash to Saturday and not tell anyone? Did the CH3 corporate jet go down while en route to another junket in Indy/Cincy/Big Hump/Madison/ Waukesha? Assuming that the later was most likely the case, a new mismanagement was immediately installed:

Grand Mistress: Cunt & Pasties
Hare Razer: Super Stuff `er
Haberdasher: Sir Poops a Lot
Religious Adviser: Just John
Hash Cash: Bloody Thighs
Web Master: Horn-E
Hash Flash: Wall Bang Her
Hash Scribe: Lifa
Hash Sex Therapist: Magnetic Muff
Hash Human Shield: EZ on the Ass
Hash Belligerence Consultant (emeritus): Boner Malfunction

I believe C & P will be conducting her first mismanagement meeting next Sunday, but it’s hard to read the date through the grease mark on this plate.

On-On,
Lifa

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[Editor’s Note: Thanks to the “replacement players” for keeping this week’s hash going.

Rumours of a coup have been greatly exaggerated. In fact, the CH3 Mismanagement Dassault Falcon 9x Jet has returned safely from Yangon where the Generals of Myanmar kindly hosted seminars on “How Run A Tighter Ship In You Junta”, “Quashing Pesky Democratic Idealism”, “How to Knit Nice Tea Cosys For the Holidays From Lightly Used Buddhist Monk Vestments” and “Without Constant Vigilance, Even Your Team Could Be Upset By the Chicago Bears”. Expect business as usual next week.]

– Fuji

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Tale of the Trail – CH3 #1407

Chicago H3 Run 1407 – 10/16/2005

The final score was 28 to 3: 28 splits and 3 checks that is. Oh, there were probably a few dozen more, but after a solid 80 minutes of trail without the aid of beer, cognitive function begins to deteriorate.

About 10 hashers headed out from Rabbits on Sunday to experience what hare Rear Loader described as “not a typical Rear Loader trail.” We weren’t sure what this meant but after listening to the hare whine about how tired he was after setting the trail on just 4 hours sleep, we figured he must mean it would suck.

We started out north along Elston but the trail quickly made a sharp turn and we ended up heading west instead. We zigged and zagged back and forth for several blocks giving the walkers a chance to keep up. The first check at Robert Square Park (okay, I admit I had to look that one up) managed to spread the pack apart with false trails in several directions. Our one-and-only virgin Just ????? took the middle route through the park, but Horn-E found the way, with Chicken Stiffer and Lifa catching up as we crossed the Kennedy on the Ainslie bridge.

On Lawrence we found the “Polish” check as promised by the hare. Our Polish representative (C.S.) skipped it, using some lame excuse about finding true trail. We trampled through the greenery at Wilson Park and finally ended up at a very tough check at Central and Lawrence. The third arrow was found 1/4 mile from the check by Horn-E, who by then had slipped into a parallel universe and wasn’t seen again until the finish.

As though all of this weren’t enough torture, 3 or 4 more splits awaited us at Milwaukee & Foster with the trail crossing over itself at least once. Homeboy Org-G figured this out and helped the clueless get back on true trail. From here it would be a straight shot back in. Wrong! 8-10 more splits and lots of winding through the neighborhood added another mile or so to the trail.

The smart ones (shortcutting bastards and biatches) were already back and into their second beer by the time the DFLs arrived. While Canned Pussy exchanged notes about mobile phones and Just Do Me Slowly wondered “what is a mobile phone?,” our virgin R.A. Chicken Stiffer called the circle to order. Most of the entertainment was provided by Coffee, Tea or Me’s psychotic dog chasing after shadows in the middle of the circle. Hot pants arrived late accompanied by his bodyguard. He explained he wasn’t able to run because he was grilling his meat, and that he couldn’t stay because he was on his way to grill his brother’s meat. I don’t wanna know. Erik the Red somehow avoided receiving a down-down yet again. Just as the circle closed, the GM made her grand entrance. We figured she must’ve been hiding in the parking lot critiquing Chicken Stiffer’s performance as R.A.

Thanks to the hare for a good, long trail, the R.A. for perfect weather and the Bears for keeping the riff raff away.