Run # 659 – September 18, 1999

Hares-o-plenty:  Spread Eagle, Head Cheese, Phred, Lost Cause and (making
her PH3 hare day boo-boo) Little Squirt (with dad/bimbo Cumcierge)
Venue:  Fernbank Elementary School
Hounds:  Bitch With An Attitude, 4” Hole, Afterbirth, Slippery Web Wet,
Sneak A Peek, Dr. Doo Doo, Uh Huh Baby. Cum.Com, Lame Bahrain, Whine Ho,
Asscracker, Tailgunner, Jambi, Rub My Cheese, Cheese Infection, Pull My
Sting, Shiggy Pitts, Dumbell, Whoremoan.


   At 2:23, I was wondering if someone hadn’t high-jacked the hareline message and changed the start.  No one was here.  I saw flour at the starting point, but no hares or hounds.  Uh-oh.  Spread Eagle has a reputation which precludes the hash, I thought.

   But actually, these in-town starts always have seem to bring hounds out later than the usual late.  Sure enough, after Dr. Doo Doo and Uh Huh Baby (who showed up at 2:24) and I tried to decide if the pack would number only three, the cars more or less streamed in and everyone who would hash up managed to be there by 2:45 or so.

   It turns out that all you losers who stayed away missed a fine trail, marred only by the railroad tracks at the beginning portion of the hash.

   We were in familiar, well-hashed territory.  So much in fact that the hounds had to change the color of flour a few times (blue) so as to avoid all the other still-there trails (white and red) which no rain had washed away.  Still, we were somehow treated to a fine shiggy trail which I thought just had to be the work of Lost Cause.

   Turns out, Head Cheese did the cutting making the path passable, but got ill in doing so. Lost Cause said he only helped hold the flour!   Head Cheese was not at the hash on Saturday, instead was recuperating in bed from the machete work clearly evident on trail.  For those who don’t believe it, Spread Eagle’s hash was NOT TOO LONG.  It was WELL MARKED.  And other than the unavoidable tracks (much of which were easily paralleled), it was MOSTLY WOODS.  Stuff your scribe du jour REALLY LIKES.

   We came on-in near the ending site of the ill-fated men’s PC Hash of 9-9-99, but this time the bags were at the end, the (premium) beer at the end, and (surprise, surprise) all the hounds got to the end!  Even the “Cheese Sisters” and Asscracker, who left the start to get a replacement for Cheese Infection’s lost key.  Asscracker was worried about being DFL because of their late start behind the pack, but what the hell?  This ain’t no friggin’ race!  Of course, their late start was enough to earn extra down-downs! Slippery When Wet was also looking for a lost car key, but managed to find it after the third search of her hash bag.  Of course we had a Keyless Entry down-down for Slippery and Cheese Infection! Other Rule 6 violators included first time PH3 hound Cheese Infection, way too longs Uh Huh Baby, Sneak A Peek, Lame Bahrain and Cumcierge.   4” Hole drank (visitor…but there was a debate whether it should have been a too long…the main point was to give her a down-down, however) and race-ist    Asscracker paid dearly for his ill-conceived comments about avoiding being DFL.

   The many hares (Spread Eagle, Phred, Lost Cause) all drank, and the “mystery hare new to running” turned out to be not many-months-old Little Squirt, who was pointing out the best places for flour at the on-in, all from her vantage point from dad’s baby back pack. Do down-downs count when they’re down from a dribble-free cup?

   The end itself was near South Burnt Fork Creek in the Mason Mill Park area near Clairmont and N. Druid Hills Roads.  Very scenic, and (I think it was) Bitch With An Attitude suggested that the ruins of the dam and other structures nearby may have actually been Mason Mill.

    Who knows?  “Privet-Killer” might.  We were done (we thought) with the down-downs when some…person with a backpack came on-in.    Turns out this guy was a weed vigilante or something for the Mason Mill area.  Killing privets to keep the natural growth from being choked.  Sort of keeping the woods clear for hashing.  Has been doing it for years.    “Get a life!”, we yelled and made him do a down-down.  If we ever see this guy again, I think we’ll have to name him “Beaver Colony” after one of his “natural wonders of the area” stories about wildlife not far from ourending.

   The trail (for all you who missed it) was just fine, thank you.  Well done, hares!  On-out!



Scribe:  Afterbirth