Run #786

March 10, 1998

Museum of the Regiments
Hare: FUKAWHEEEEEEE

Well sit right back and you'll hear a tale. A tale of a fateful trip. That started from this frigid port, aboard our frozen feet.

What started as a Monday night Hash run turned into a three hour tour. Many a lost soul and many a story of heroism and debauchery.

With the onset of Australian winter, the pack congealed initially inside the lobby of the Museum in a vane attempt to forestall the impending hypothermia. This practice will no doubt continue until the day the pack is large enough to collapse the entry bridge. Luckily the moshing was reserved for the circle outside.

Once POLEVAULT got the pack circled up and we could see each others faces, it became clear that there were some unfamiliar faces in our midst. HEATHER was a new boot on a night when a lot of die-hard hashers died out. FURRY THING and WET BUTT chose a miserable evening to return from the archives. LAKEY announced the next Full Moon Hash from TUBBLES' house on Friday, March 13.

FUHKAWEE was introduced as the Hare for the evenings festivities, showed off his etchings on the lights behind the circle, and directed the pack off in a southerly direction toward Arizona, (wishful thinking).

Running straight south to Central Memorial High School, Alma Mater of Big Rock sales rep. Lori Rogers, San Jose Sharks goaltender, Mike Vernon, Calgary Sun sports cartoonist, Dave Elston, CFCN sports anchor, Glen Campbell, a wide assortment of other degenerates and yours truly, the trail bent west and met its first check at the intersection of Crowchild Trail and 50th Ave. SW. near Atco. As the pack continued briefly west toward Mount Royal College, your faithless scribe was first to find the trail south beside Crowchild Trail toward the pedestrian overpass. Calling on all the way, but not seeing the pack following, I carried on following what turned out to be one the most exceptional trails I've ever run.

Turning west from the pedestrian bridge and running toward the fire station on the west side of Atco, I quickly increased the gap between myself and the pack. Fools! Over to Mount Royal College and not another hasher in sight. I was the king of all FROPS. What a huge lead. Passed Bishop Carroll High School and up to the Flanders Avenue overpass. North to the pedestrian bridge to the base. Finding a locked gate on the other side I returned from this false trail still without being caught by the pack. Up to 33rd Ave., down to 20th St. South on 20th to the Military Quarters, where I finally re-established contact with the Hash. The walkers were almost On-In. Short cutting was obviously the only way to get in front of me this night. I was flying. Running with ski goggles in this storm was obviously the advantage that put me over the top.

Far be it from me to let the truth get in the way of a good story but by running through a check-back near Atco at the beginning and guessing wrong about which direction to shortcut back to the pack I had run alone for over three quarters of an hour, constantly guessing wrong about where the trail had gone. I am forever indebted to SMIRK, the Front Walking Bastard, for his generous directions back to be beer regroup. After the beer stop his impression was that the evening was a "Deadly Awesome Walk!"

After the chill started setting in it was time to leave the beer stop at FUHKAWEE and GOPHER BROKE's love shack for the ever friendly confines of the Museum.

Chief Scribe DREARY, traumatized by the absence of the assigned scribe for the evening, was obviously desperate if he asked me to be a substitute. Crayon in hand, I scribbled outside the lines.

KING SHIT was strolling around with his wiener in his hand. Who did LOST IT Bobbittize? BLUE BALLS decided to pass on the run but not the epicurean delicacies.

POLEVAULT has only ever whined once in his life. The problem is that he hasn't ever stopped.

A vast assortment of Hashers were punished for some very serious offenses.

FUHKAWEE for being hare...less. The choir: DREARY, HARDLY and THONG Q for pre-verse lubrication. HEATHER for being a new boot, who, by the way, was so anxious for all the hashers to have her home phone number she gave it to the scribe. It's available on a beer-per-number basis (seven beer for the complete phone number) or conversely an equivalent quantity of beer to avoid distribution. FURRY THING and WET BUTT were archived. PERFESSER did an admirable job of the half yard for having no life on 300 Monday nights (that we know of). He was further punished for being erudite and eclectic by being encouraged to read the gift books: Dictionary of Drink, Book of Marvels, Victorian Hand(job)book and An Incomplete Education. SKEWBIC HAIR received a pewter mug on the occasion of his 100th run. DASTARDLY and PEEKABOO were punished for getting women pregnant. They'll be punished even more severely when their wives find out. (Oliver Thomas Liam Buchner Dastardly - 9 lbs. 3 oz.). ALWAYS WITH WINGS and WET BUTT were punished for efflorescing. Must be all the salt on the streets. LOST IT and BOBBIN' ROBIN were punished for getting lost without getting lost together. BLUE BALLS for bashing without hashing. THONG Q christened a lovely pair of new shoes by downing a beer out of one. NIPPLE DETECTOR and POLEVAULT were punished for sliding in without protection. FURRY THING and DIRTY DANCER for creating procreating snow angels. My notes have THONG Q, 007, HOT DOG and KING SHIT marked down but no reference why and I don't remember. SHERYL was named "HOT FLASHES" but in traditional friend-of-007 fashion there may be an immediate re-naming. Watch this space for further details.

ON-ON !

Bobbin' Robin


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