Hares: Smirk, Fuhkawee, Burning "I didn't actually
help set the run but got credit for being a hare" Rubber and King "I
didn't actually help set the run either" Shit
Where: On, in, through and under most of the wet bits of Weaselhead
On In: Bass Brothers Lincoln Park (2 Richard Way Southwest)
Attendance: 54
You always know you're in for a real bastard of a shiggy run when Smirk and Fuhkawee decide to set one in Weaselhead. We fall for it every year. We actually encourage them to do it. "Oh, it's fun!" we say. "Weaselhead is a great park", we say, "It's not that bad", we say. Right up until the first river crossing ("River?" you say, "Mobile swamp, you mean"). But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The usual pack of misfits with a victimization complex showed up in the Weaselhead parking lot on Richard Road. What was funny was the number of ex-Hashers (mostly from the R*nn*ng R**m) we saw heading out for a real run on the trails. When they saw us they skulked off sniggering, no doubt thinking of 50 people up to their armpits in smelly mud. Kinky bastards, at least we don't charge them for it.
After HRH Skewbie circled us, announced us, introduced us and hared us, we were off. Oh yeah, Fuhkawee told us there was no shiggy. I'm not sure what's worse, the fact that he kept a totally straight face when he said it, or the fact that we all desperately wanted to believe him. Onon into the forest (Shadow of the Valley of Death, where I will fear no shiggy...). We sort of got to run some bits at the beginning, but a lot of it was a stumbling crawl. After the first check there was a really fun slippery descent that lead down to a check-back, so onto the paths we ran, until the next check, which led into the bush. So into the bush we went, uprooting trees and shrubs and wildflowers and frightening small animals. Most of us couldn't run this bit. One Hasher could, SNEvil, who was downed by WetOne later for being able to run under the whipping tree branches. It was sort of a crawl through the underbrush. I was half expecting to start having flashbacks, and imagine helicopters and machine guns. This led to a checkback too. Joy. Rapture. Back we go.
After quite a bit more of this, we reached the first swamp crossing. Picture 50 hashers whooping and howling, rushing along the trail, to find themselves on the edge of the bank. Eeeeeeerrrrrk, crash stop, straight out of a cartoon. Let the trail chickening begin! There wasn't anywhere to cross in a civilized fashion, so mob rules took over and in we plunged. Stin-ky! Yuuuuk. Hottie put on a really good show for everyone. So did a beaver, who being one of the aforementioned small animals, took off downriver.
The trail opened up after this and much running ensued, followed by a large open area, a tree, and a beer regroup. And some dogs running around, covering wet, muddy, smelly hashers with wet, muddy, smelly dog. Wet One was a favourite for attention, which is probably why she was so mean as an RA.
The final shiggy section was a river crossing. By hell it was cold. Mine didn't come back down until Wednesday. A few minutes later the mob returned to the parking lot, full of glowing praise for the hares and in need of a drink.
Bass Bros was a great venue for the OnIn. Fuhkawee and Wet One stepped up as guest RAs and proceeded to reduce the Hash to a bunch of quivering whimpering babies. Wet One in particular made frequent use of the ice. Fire in the Hole and The Body wouldn't keep quiet so they were both punished, but sneaked off when W.O. wasn't watching. Lakey was downed for her 600th run (doesn't look a day over 400...), the hares were downed, and Wet One yelled at a few more people, like SNEvil, who is short and therefore doesn't get hit in the head by swinging branches.
On-On!
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