Harriers: Way too many to remember
On one of the hottest days of 2005, a little more than 20 hashers met
behind the Ingles at Cherrydale to visit the beautiful world of Berea.
Okay, they really came for a hash and the hares never led them to
Berea. It was really Sans Souci.
But anyway, the ever-devious Daily Newd and the ever-clueless Peggy
Pullanasti left a half-hour late per tradition while the pack drank
from the unending well of fermented hops left to them.
They eventually crawled out of their gutterly ways and followed the
trail. They almost immediately got lost on a false trail that led to
some railroad tracks before crossing Poinsett.
They ran past the porno shop and into some shady looking areas. The
hares had apparently split and created numerous false trails that led
down train tracks, into dirt mounds and through trailer parks.
Ok, so the trailer park was the real trail and spooked the heck out of
a lot of the hashers as well as the people who lived there. The pack
eventually got to a couple of back yards the hashers had cut through.
There were now big dogs and snarling people guarding the path.
While the pack looked for away around the yard, the hares were sitting
in a very shady bar with no money or identification. How shady was
this bar? A sign on the wall said no food, no drink, no asses on the
pool table.
The pack eventually got there…just as the beer truck driven by Lady
Long Legs rolled in. There was much griping about the trail and dogs,
but the hares didn’t listen as they left again.
The pack soon followed through some more of the hare’s random nonsense
and false trails before finding true trail heading down some railroad
tracks. The pack eventually had to jump from the tracks and ford a
small stream.
That led in various directions, but eventually true trail was found
going through a field. The pack was forced to cross a ravine using a
Hobo-made bridge (Hobo-made: helping the shiftless get shiftlesser
since 1936).
After some random meanderings through a couple of shady areas and past
some abandoned industrial buildings, the second beer stop was found in
an abandoned warehouse where much beer was consumed.
Now a side note. In planning the hash, those no-good hares kept
worrying about what would happen if a train came by as they started
the third leg because they were crossing an active line. They never
saw anything on scouting trips, so they figured they would wing it.
Okay back to the story, the hares take off. Get about 200 feet and run
into a train coming down the tracks. They wait and wait, thinking the
pack is coming any second to pants them. Fortunately, the pack wasn’t
paying attention and the hares got away.
The pack eventually followed for the third leg, which was much short
than the previous legs and led to the on-in, Robert’s Pub on Poinsett
Highway. Oddly enough. one of the people at the first bar the hash hit
was now sitting at Robert’s.
Considering that a good omen, Circle was formed and many down-downs
were consumed. The hares were lambasted for a shitty trail. Bust Her
Hymen did a down-down for being the FRB, realizing he was the FRB and
then trying to leave so he didn’t look like FRB. About a dozen virgins
were singled-out as well.
Circle ended and much drinking followed at Roberts.
on-on
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