Run #1185 - Toto, Are We in Portugal Anymore????

September 6, 2004

Hares: Gromit, Kebab, Pee On, I Lean Back & Tiny Bubbles
Where: Glenmore Athletic Field
On-In: Grommit & Kebab's Kabin,
Catered by Big Rock Grill
Attendance: 38

The fact that this was going to be the longest trail in the history of CH3 was not evident by the jovial demeanor of the hares. I have helped set a few trails and it is usually a job that the hares do together. Surely I should have suspected something amiss when it took 5 hares to set a regular Monday night run. Five of anything is a committee and we all know what they say about committees. Even more alarming should have been the fact that Tubbles was not present even at circle time. Did someone not notice his absence? Did anyone care? Was he wandering aimlessly in search of edible fungi instead of making hash marks? Perhaps that is why most missed that all-important turn that would have kept then on trail and in the direction of the regroup.

I know that, including the Hares, not one single Hasher in the group had any clue what was in store for them that fateful evening. It was to be a journey of lost souls, lost hashers, joyful reunions and Krusty cumming to the rescue. Where to begin??? Let's begin with Kusty who was....

...bent over the back of his shiny red truck collecting money. Honey, with a butt like that it is no wonder everyone was lined up wanting to give you money! Knobby, on the other hand, was standing some distance off, alone with his Hash Shit, contemplating the ground or maybe trying to get his head around the fact that empty plates at the On In were going to cost $6. Speaking of the Hash Shit....it was huge!!! Bigger than...., hell, I am lost for an analogy, so let's just say it was BIG! A "can't help but stare at, he wants me to do what??!" BIG! Actually it turns out that Knobby had figured out how to make two Shits copulate. And, yes duct tape, came into play. I suspect that at one time Kawky had tried the same with Velcro but the only thing his Hash Shits stick to, are him.

After the usual announcements, including the reminder that Erections are cumming up, we set off in a southerly direction. Down, over, under, this way, that way. Where the hell is a "Yellow Brick Road" when you need one? Or even a poppy field. Still I kept going. I am not above short cutting but not if I may miss a regroup. Anyway I plodded on wishing I were back in Kansas or at least Calgary. Finally I found the regroup! Nine of us had made it and that included the five walkers. No Big Rock beer has ever tasted so sweet! After draining every last drop of beer, I headed back towards the On In with a group that consisted of the restuck Stickies, Kebab and myself. Now there is some relevance to listing the people in our little cluster. You see the Stickies did not run together that evening. Miss Lips was a walker and Her Licker ran, meaning they were on entirely different trails. The significance of this is further increased when it is brought to light that even our most seasoned veterans were loosing the trail. The mere fact that they found, not only the regroup, but also each other is amazing.

Eventually I arrived back at the parking lot. Hardly was standing, looking totally beaten, clutching something that probably belonged to Twisted Sister. He was mumbling something about being sure she would stay with the pack. A much relieved but very dirty Inspector Butt greeted me with a look of relief. He was worried I was lost...will he ever let me for get the time I went the wrong direction on the C-train? Probably not, 'cause it is a really funny story. Anyway on this particular evening I was never lost and I had the key to the car. Why worry when I knew I was eventually going to get home. Oh, you want to know about the dirt... Seems he had to climb under the car and chew through duct tape to retrieve his spare key. It seems that duct tape does have a unlimited amount of uses including flossing. Regardless the dear man was just about to set out looking for me! Chivalry is not dead...but then again I did have in my possession one electronic car key that would have cost big bucks to replace.

Back at the On In I bought a plate and proceeded to fill it with an assortment of Big Rock Grill munchies. With a glass of Trad finally in my hand I came to the conclusion that I had the beer connoisseurs idea of a perfect pairing. Okay, so I am easily distracted... what I should have been doing was wondering if all of the lost Hashers were going to make it back. Before I could begin to worry about lost Hashers becoming street people, begging for spare change to buy beer, living a life of sordid anonymity beneath overpasses, smoking butts pick up from the ground. What you want me to get to the point? Sometimes there is no point...okay okay...

Suddenly there was a murmur of excitement as Krusty rolled up in his shiny red truck carrying a wack of rescued Hashers. Hardly was reunited with his beloved. With everyone present or accounted for, Knobby stepped into his job as RA for the evening and we had a whole wack of confusing Down Downs. By that time though I had consumed enough Traditional to do the C-train thing again.