Run #1345 - Simon Fraser's Great Dis

July 2, 2007

Hare: Snevil
Where: Currie Barracks Farmer's Market Parking Lot
On-In: Chez Snevil, 4227 - 15A Street SW
Big Rock: Grab it from the cooler!
Attendance: 25

Dear Calgary Hash: My name is Simon Fraser, and it's probably safe to say that history doesn't consider me the most competent and insightful explorer of all time, especially given the whole U-turn at the Pacific Ocean thing.

For the past 199 years, I've been ridiculed and vilified for not being the smartest guy out there. Then again, they named a second-rate university in the Vancouver area after me, which is more than any of you can say. Without lax admission standards, I can guarantee Dreary, for instance, never would have been admitted. As far as the university's McFog the Dog mascot, there's nothing I can do about that.

I was flattered that you rogues would remember me on the anniversary of my foray into the history books. And it was appropriate that Snevil, known for her aversion to marks and directions, served as what you call the hare for the little soiree.

Snevil set aside her Attention Deficit Disorder when it comes to chalk and flour, and laid a trail that started and ended at the Calgary Farmers' Market, and meandered around Currie Barracks and into toney Garrison Woods for good measure. It was a lovely, warm summer evening, perfect for exploring.

I was especially pleased that Mucky Dip, who travels the world for a sport named after a vegetable, was incredibly true to my Inspector Clouseau reputation — managing to get lost for an incredibly long period of time. And to think she didn't even have any Indian guides to mislead her.

Ms. Dip tried to claim that the trail was tricky, and not marked well and blah, blah, blah. Pshaw. She got lost on her own accord, which sent Skewbic into spasms of worry, but only after he finished his beer, and then another, and another.

So the ever-faithful Skoob took off in the Turbo Saab green machine to find the long-lost Mucky. A Calgary police helicopter and a 100-member search party also joined the effort.

Sometime before dark, Mucky managed to make it to Snevil's house for pizza and beer — much to Skewbic's, wink, wink, relief.

But Mucky Dip wasn't the only hasher who had problems with the whole Fraserian direction thing.

It seems that Cheap Whine somehow thought the start was at the end, so she drove to Snevil's house, expecting to see a gathering of hashers. Oops. One frantic call to her 70-year-old father, who navigated his way through the hash website, and she found where she was supposed to be.

So Ms. Whine arrived a little late, tires squealing. She jumped out of her car and joined the hash, as though nothing had happened.

I was disappointed that Cheap Whine didn't wear her new pink snakeskin cowboy boots for the run. Something about saving them for Stampede and not wanting to drink out of them. But she promises that she'll wear them to a hash one day. Yee-haw.

Speaking of footwear, noted Beer Ho King Shit drank out of his sandals for wearing 10-day-old shoes during the hash. It's likely King Shit still wasn't thinking straight after listening to a rather bawdy valedictorian speech at a high school graduation in North Bumdoodle, Manitoba.

I was also happy to see that Shack Shock and Pyro drank a down-down for wearing matching shorts that were almost as old as I am. It's always a good thing to remember history.

It was sad that the Rubber Made and Prince Harry tryst is over and done. Ms. Made said the pressures of the Diana memorial concert and the upcoming 10th anniversary of Princess Di's death made continuing impossible. But they'll still always have those magic moments.

I'm still trying to figure out the whole hiking-viking thing with Thunder Tits and I'll Try It. Some things are probably best left for history to determine.

Thanks again for remembering me. You know, this year is the 231st anniversary of my birth and the 145th of my death will be in August. Any chance you could honour me again?