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Wednesday 10/21/2015 #1284

TrAInWreCK & Goldicocks @ The Hill

Hash Trash:


The Goldi-Wreck trail that almost got us killed hash trash.

Berra Park, on the Hill a stone’s throw from I-44. It brought back memories. For those new-ish, you might be interested to know that Big Hump used to field a co-ed softball team every year and for 2 or 3 years we played in a city league at Berra Park. And we were pretty good in those years too, making the city-wide playoffs a couple times. Then we let Rudy on the team…..aaaaaaaand… HIT THE FRIKKIN’ CUTOFF MAN!!

But I digress…Anyway, we gathered up near the newly remodeled bathrooms, and a couple odd things started happening right off the bat. First, there was no beer, but there was a flea market of some kind for old clothing. Second, all the girls gathered in a group and the boys in another…it was like a 7th grade dance. Then Stink Palm told me I was getting fat, and with my sensitive feelings, I became all verklempt.

So with global warming temps still near 80 (fuck the polar bears!), I figured the evening would turn around and it would be a nice time with a healthy jog and some cold beers. Goldi-Wreck showed us the normal array of marks we would see – is Train Wreck wearing a fucking helmet the whole time??? --and they took off to set a live trail. But wait, they started heading north…..whaa? Why are they going that way?... there’s nothing but train tracks and graffiti that way.

Shortly into the trail, the first of many scary things …as we’re going behind an industrial building – on private property – to cranium into the bushes I hear BANG! And another, and then another…thought it was gunfire, but luckily it was just ne’r-do-wells lighting off bottle rockets over our heads.

Crawl through a small hole in the fence (hehe…I said ‘hole’) and out of the bushes and of course right onto live train tracks. Now we’re the ne’r-do-wells. Down the tracks we go and there’s a beer halt by what I think is a pumping station or maybe a switch house…dunno, just know it’s still private property and there’s broken glass everywhere, but there was an orange peel on the ground so at least we knew recent visitors ate healthy!

Then we crawl through more bushes and encounter the next super scary thing…just as I suspected, we have to cross river des sewage. About ½ mile from the massive sewage spill a couple days ago. Wow, really? So much for doing something healthy tonight, as this is utterly UN-healthy.

So then we have to go through more bushes and back onto train tracks where there’s a big check. Marks in all directions but unfortunately one set was actually the walkers trail coming the other direction, which most of took….in the wrong direction. That’s pretty effed up man, making a walkers trail cross a check on the runners trail? Back the other direction on the live tracks to Kingshighway, turn left and FUCK! Stopped by a train. Wait for the effin train.

Now we’re back to running in ‘hoods with sidewalks and we come across the auto-hashers taking beer to the beer stop. We asked if they knew where it was and they replied ‘no, we’re just supposed to follow trail.’ Uh-huh….well, trail at this point goes back across the same effin tracks with the same effin train on them. Plus some really, really ne’r-do-wells spray painting said trains. And apparently they didn’t like being interrupted in their artistic endeavors.

I wasn’t about to cross tracks with a moving train on them, so myself, Colorado, a new guy and Masturbating and that giant sweet dog of his, decided to go around to a bridge. Getting somewhat spread out, I hear Colorado and the new guy ahead of me suddenly speak with urgency “just keep going now” as I’m trying to look down on the tracks to see which way the dumbasses following trail were going. The three artistic ne’r-do-wells had decided to let us know about their displeasure with us and began chasing us, cursing loudly …and …..now I know why Colorado and the new guy took off running up Vandeventer. Oh crap….seriously, I was expecting to get shot in the back. Then the new guy says “we should take a side street real quick in case they get in a car and shoot us from a car.” Oh great, I hadn’t even thought of that, but now I am.

Whatever, I had enough adventure for one night, so I suggested we just keep going until we hit Shaw and go back to the park. Dapper had come back too and the 4 of us went to Milo’s for a beer.

We met back up with everyone at circle and people made fun of us “trail bailers” being scared by some “millennials” …..errr, yeah. You must not read the paper much. I’ve been hashing since 2006 and I’ve almost been arrested a couple times, I almost got into it with the building guard who had handcuffed Dewey while we were pre-laying trail, I’ve been injured many times, I’ve had scary encounters with dogs, snapping turtles, snakes and spiders. But I’ve only been truly past the point of concerned to actually scared for my safety and well-being a few times while hashing and last night was one of them.

Anyway, let’s see….at circle after seeing some flashing boobs, and swinging low, the hash decided to name the Pilipino guy who’s always wearing a VAJ hash shirt even though that’s an all-female hash. I didn’t stay for the whole thing so someone else will have to fill in if he actually got a hash name. I did notice though that he was holding some kind of ball (baseball I think) in his left hand the whole night. Like, what is that? And why didn’t someone ask some in-depth questions about this particular neurosis? If I’d stayed long enough I’d have suggested for a name “Philipino Crab Shack With a Ball in Hand.”

The best part of the whole night really was that dead-sexy shirt Stink Palm was wearing. I hope there are pictures of that.

On-on.
Ricky’s Crab Shack
(IWOOAIW27YAIJWPTO)


Big Hump Hash House Harriers - St. Louis, Missouri - Established 1999