Hash Trash Hack: On the Rag
On the day after the day after Thanksgiving, nauseated by the mere sight
of turkey leftovers and with charge cards perilously close to their
limits, a couple dozen hashers who could find their way to Sage Hill in
their sleep, found their way to Sage Hill in a pleasant stupor
approximating sleep, aided and abetted by sunny skies, temps in the
70’s, roasted chestnuts, cannabinoids, Dramamine, etc.
Our Hare Dead Root showed up. Beavis did not.
With no instructions that I heard, we were off in the direction of
Emory. Favoring a recently acquired blister, I opted for the rail
tracks as most of the Pack headed down Old Briarcliff Road. Happily,
across those tracks I detected a thimble-full of flour on the access
road, blew my OnOn whistle and continued East. Dumb Dick was soon with
me and he paralleled on the tracks while I roller-coastered the access
road. Just when we got all egalitarian and traded these tasks, we lost
flour. As we back-tracked the Pack reached us and followed flour down
into the woods, out onto some road heading into the Emory service
yards/servant entrances in the rear.
As we climbed toward Frat Row, we spotted the first of two, FATEFUL,
on-overs, which seemed to be pointing us between a couple of frats (Tri
Tappa Kegga and I Pheela Thi, if memory serves). Behind the frats the
flour got kinda vague, but we’re used to that by now, and we found a
water fountain flagged as a WS and then sort of wandered down the hill
toward the Peavine Parking Deck until somebody, OKAY maybe it was me,
found flour and we were off toward N. Decatur Road.
[For clarity, I want to point out that at this moment, and completely
unwittingly, the Hounds are well and truly Fucked. Dead Root had shaped
this tres brilliant course like an hourglass. The narrow portion of the
hourglass, where the Out-bound portion of the trail passed dangerously
close to the On-In-Bound portion of the trail, had been somewhere by
Frat Row. Due to DR’s excessive economizing with the flour, the Pack
had innocently gotten itself onto the On-In-Bound trail which it was now
following in the wrong direction.]
A bit more running, Jambi leading us through the Ravines of Emory,
the Pack confronted, at the corner of Clifton and Asbury Circle the
Existential Crisis of the Day: another on-over, pointing us BACK over
The Hounds fell into arguing, despondency, bewilderment. One contingent
felt that, regardless of what the on-over arrow indicated “Dammit, we
just followed that trail here, and we’re not gonna go back over it
now!” (Remember “The Poseidon Adventure,” and the doomed bunch that
never quite realized the boat was upside down, and so plodded
determinedly down toward the Bridge, when true salvation lay above in
the boiler room?)
A few other folks grokked the situation (correctly) that: 1) here’s
true trail arrow; 2) maybe we’ve managed to short-cut; 3) who cares what
we’ve missed, we’ve hashed Emory dozens of times, therefore; 4) let’s
follow the arrow “back.” Although most of the Pack turned around and
started “back” over the trail, confusion and division soon broke out
again. One group of Boy Scouts decided to continue running the course
backwards, to see what they had missed (Lullwater Estate, Lullwater Lake
and the running paths thereabouts). Another group started “back” but
soon lost heart and wandered off to find vending machines. Virgins were
forsaken, friends and families abandoned to their fates.
As we walked back through Emory, who should come driving up, but Our
Hare Dead Root! He confirmed that, Yes, we had short-cut about HALF his
trail. He pointed us OnOn toward the Peavine Parking Deck where Kooler
Killer, Molly and the pooch found trail. I stayed on the road and ran
into late-starters Cheaper-than-Trick and Ultra-Upholsterized who had
abandoned the AH4 [ptooey! - ed] Fat Boy Run (too long and not enough beer for them).
I tried to explain the situation to them but it came out as: “It goes
this way Dammit! You’re All Doomed!” and they naturally wrote me off as
a loon and continued to follow Jambi’s big authoritative chalkings.
Kooler et.al. soon emerged from behind the Deck and I rejoined for
awhile then abandoned them once again as the flour ducked into the
creek. Paralleling through the soccer fields, I came out onto Old
Briarcliff (again!!??) and the Pack soon arrived.
We found our way across Briarcliff and again ran into Dead Root.
Realizing that the run was hopelessly fucked up, with Hounds from here
to Clairmont Road, we made DR pull over and break out the beer. After
10 minutes or so, most of the Pack that would find the On-In under their
own power had arrived, and DR nudged us OnOn toward the On-In, at Noble
Park off Johnson Road. There I had a lovely shower under a hose and was
fresh as a daisy for semi-serious drinking, discussion of soccer, pizza
and Tb, and Down-Downs.
Lots of complaints on the trail, a good half dozen folks had to be
choppered back from Emory, another half-doz returned to Sage Hill for
their cars and drove On-In. Dead Root blamed it all on Beavis.
Agreeing that, yes, had Beavis been involved it would have certainly
been far worse, the Hounds were too disgusted to even award the
1xers: L.Baker; D.Baker; W.Tavares; Katsu.
Out of Towners: Cheaper than Trick (Macon/Perry); Come on Down (Gulf
Over-Achievers: Cheaper than Trick; Ultra-Upholsterized.
Half-MaraRacists: Afterbirth; Kooler Killer; On the Rag; (someone else?)
Too-long: Hand-Tossed; Hog Heaven; Down Under; S.Hartley; Yuppie
DFL: Cums Collect; Rock Hudson
Cheapskate: Tail Gunner
Named: Special Ed (Molly McFee).