Baltimore Annapolis Hash House Harriers

So, after discovering this list of names in the random pair of hash shoes my DD accidentally donated to me after the last hash, it seemed a shame to not acknowledge the dedication, determination, delusion, directionally-challenge-edness, and drunkenness of both our hares and our hounds for BAH3 Hash #1317.

Everything started off well. There was not nearly enough parking, far too many civilians wandering through the gathering place, and the ever-present boding sense of doom. Luckily, things went uphill from there. By that, I mean they mostly went downhill, in all senses of the word. The hares decided they’d go ahead and give us a chalk talk that would be super-helpful and wonderfully kind to the hounds who really wanted to go forth and find a bit of beer. Oh, and, for the record, those hares were: ECDC, W4T, $5I, and PND. (Also for the record, PND wrote these names down, and I’m just drunk enough to not be able to translate them into something resembling actual words, so there you go.) There was some sort of circle surrounding these talks of chalk. Given that NEC was listed on the attendance list, I’m assuming he was the RA, as the combination of factors including: 1) it being six days since I found this list and realized I was supposed to do something with it and 2) me ending the evening with a BAC far higher than I’ve had in an while, suggested that he was likely the one to send us off into the woods of doom.

Oddly enough, the trail started off well enough. The pack started off in the general direction of the marks, and then instantly lost them. So, business as usual. Eventually, trail was found, and the hounds continued their search for beer. Luckily, we were quickly introduced to the idea of a wonderful trail inspired by A. A. Milne. The hares exquisitely brought forth a memory in me wherein I could recall a wonderful Winnie-the-Pooh episode, consisting of Pooh and Piglet following tracks in the snow, and, “ah ha!” discovering where new tracks joined the footprints they’d followed. Soon after, more people joined the trail they were following. It was only after they became afraid that they were following an army of Poohs and Piglets that they diverged from the path they were following, and discovered they’d only been finding their own tracks, adding to the trail again and again. Yes, the hares definitely outdid themselves this day.

But was this enough? Were the hounds able to find something to quench their thirst after thirty minutes of circling? How dare you even assume such a thing?

Strangely enough, the next 1.5 miles or so were actually marked. I suppose that was the hare’s way of lulling the hounds into a false sense of confidence. The next chance they had, those hares decided to leave the entire pack wandering aimlessly under some amazingly high-powered electric lines. Perhaps they were expecting us to develop magnetic powers and find trail through our newly gained sense of the electromagnetic field? Perhaps. It didn’t work. Eventually, a randomly wandering hasher found marks suggesting they might actually be on the way to some of the wonderfully liquid refreshment the pack was dearly seeking. Yeah. Like that was going to happen.

Oh, and what’s up with a back check that backs you up to a mark that’s one mark off a check? WTF, man?

Anyway.

Two miles later. Forty minutes later. Hooray! There was much rejoicing! But wait, after crossing multiple streams, traversing six miles of hideous up and down trail (btw, props to the hares for even finding this shiggy in Columbia), we finally have a chance to slake our thirst with our lord’s most holiest of beverages, BEER! Err, no, maybe not. Because this stop, six miles into the trail, was a shot stop. Let me just leave you, dear reader, with that for a moment. A shot stop. Give it a moment. Oh, while we’re taking that moment, let me mention that the hare’s response to our arrival was, “what took you so long?”. Yes. That’s what happened. .

Perhaps sensing the pack’s mutinous tendencies, the hares seemed to have adjusted the rest of the trail following the shot check. Just over a mile and a half and 20 minutes or so later, the pack emerged from the Patuxent ready for the beer stop, only to discover that the beer stop had been turned into the on-in. So. 7.57 miles by my technology later, we found no beer, one shot, and shiggy that has me still scarred six days later. Epic trail.

I suppose I should mention that the shot stop did have a cooler with a few more shots than were necessary for the pack, and I think there were some beers in there too. I only say this now as I feel the rest of this recap will be blissfully short, as my memory has completely evaporated post on-in. I’m assuming there was a circle. No doubt there were violations. Many hashers rued their sins, and, some hours later, I woke up very hungover.

Those who should be commemorated for surviving this trail include: (as scribed, and re-written)

• Gerbil
• Cornholio
• Ass Orge
• Pink Panther
• The Penis
• Swantang
• Gigolo
• Just Leo
• EMC
• I Suck Not Well
• Socket
• Choke Out
• Fossil
• Just Charlie
• Dump N Scrunch
• No Wake Zone
• Just Katie
• Mightier
• Just Mike (owes 1)
• NEC
• TTUA
• Johnny Cockring
• Clean Up
• ZZB3
• Ponyboy

Marvel at their magnificence and rejoice.

For a second opinion of this trail, I give you B4B:

By the feedback I’ve received, I can sense some of you are wondering, “How can I set a trail this magnificent?”. I can break it down for you into 4 easy steps:

Step 1: Lie to the pack and tell them all of the false trails are explicitly marked with False symbols.

Step 2: Have the trail abruptly change direction without warning. Do this at least a dozen times.

Step 3: Hide some the back-checks. Heck, while you’re at it, hide some of the regular checks and some of the trail as well. Save some of your best work for when the pack has already gone over 6 miles.

Step 4: Blame it all on ECDC.

–B4B