Run #1282 - The Bermuda Triangle of Hashing

May 22, 2006

Hares: Krusty, Mud Guard
Where: Friar's - Glenmore Landing, 1600 - 90th Avenue SW (90th Av & 14th St SW)
Big Rock: 'Hopper
Attendance: 29

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It's not as though Friar's Pub at Glenmore Landing is actually the Bermuda Triangle of Hashing, a place where weather, water and co-hares conspire to make trail markings disappear.

Or where Glenmore Reservoir's answer to the Loch Ness monster leaves hashers in a daze, searching for any signs of life or the route or something.

But it certainly seems that way.

For at least the third time in 11 months, a trail starting at Friar's left many hashers scratching their heads and wondering: Where did it go? Where have I been? And, most importantly, how far is it back to the beer?

Co-hares Krusty and Mud Guard, aka the (Get 'Em) Lost Boys, set a trail -- then had to set it again after the weather gods played dirty tricks on them and the pack just before the start.

Krusty wanted a 10-minute head start when, in reality, 10 seconds would have done the trick. Unfortunately, the weather gods forgot to erase an old trail mark on a fence near Skewbic's house, which sent a large number of hashers off in the wrong direction.

More confusion ensued when large numbers of runners and walkers from the Dark Side were working on their split times and discussing PRs while the pack was trying to figure out which way to go.

Part of the mystery was solved when Mud Guard's grade 4 report card was found in tatters next to a trash bin along the reservoir.

"Little Muddy needs to work on his penmanship, especially H and O," his teacher said. "He's also not very good at drawing signs and pictures, and seems only to be interested in fast cars. But he's working on getting along well with the other pupils, especially girls."

Eventually, the pack returned to Friar's, amid unconfirmed reports that two walkers were seen swimming across the reservoir in a futile attempt to find trail.

The Calgary Sun sent a team of reporters and photographers to find out if anyone drowned, or if the Glenmore Loch Ness monster actually exists. Look in today's Sun for the answers to these and other pressing questions and social issues.

Back at Friar's, the beer flowed as Rubber Made -- playing the faux-angry school marm role to the hilt -- conducted business on the day that honored Queen Victoria, Victoria Beckham, Victoria's Secret and Miss Vicki, among other notables. For instance:

• For her 300th run, Snevil drank a half-yard down-down that was nearly as tall as she is -- in a remarkably fast 50 seconds. And she did it without any help from her sister Wet One, who wasn't there. Well done.

  It's not widely known, but Snevil's 300 hashes include trails that no one else has ever seen. Well done, again.
   

• Pylon, er, Pyro and Whale Wanker actually caught the hares, or at least were two feet away from them. But when Krusty and Mud Guard told them they had to tag them, the co-hares sped away, leaving Pyro and Whale Wanker in their dust.
   
• Sticky Lips snapped her streak of three hashes without a down-down when she had to drink for returning to the bar after being on trail for five minutes or so.

  Sticky was weary after a busy weekend camping and trying to teach her dog, Oreo, how to ride a bicycle.

  She was joined back at the bar by Sucks Everything, who was whining before the hash about being hungry and not wanting to hash because he'd just gotten back from the Golden Triangle bike ride in British Columbia or some such nonsense, blah, blah, blah.

  Sucks was also so tired that he forgot to bring in the Hash Thingamajig from his car, and was actually bragging about winning it at 12 different hashes at the same time, or something like that, blah, blah, blah again.
   

• Tiny Bubbles managed to disgust Rubber Made and others with his huckstering of some large bag of mushroom and fungus stuff. It's terrible that he didn't have to eat the junk while doing his down-down.
   
• Somehow, Skewbic avoided having to drink after claiming in the circle that he couldn't hash because his Dick Tracy Two-Way Wrist Radio Thing wasn't picking up the correct satellites.
   
• Ms. Made considered making herself drink for picking a choir -- Sumpyton, the long-lost Pole Vault and some other forgettable beer-begging talent -- that rivaled the flip side of 'Billy Don't Be a Hero' and other 70s schlock for worst singing of all time.

  But then she figured that even 52 beers couldn't make the voices leave her head, so why bother?

On On!
Duke of Hurl

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