Many of you may have forgotten (or forgotten to care) that there was a hash scheduled for Wednesday, June 12 in the year of our lord 2019. Well…there was, and some of us even travelled great distances to be there to actually keep our kennel from fading into oblivion. I know, I know, it’s not every day that Phish comes to town…except it WAS every day from June 11-12. So you could have gone the night before and still hashed on Wednesday. In the end, 7 brave souls showed up (which I must say is less than the Springfield hash on Sunday – shame on you): Reach Around, Claim, RA Shepherd, Whiney, Purdy, yours truly, and our guest of honor and backslider Secret Cervix.
Things got off to a great start as people trickled in to the Tip Top Cleaners parking lot and we realized there was no beer meister and thus no beer for circle. Luckily, Claim always travels with a few in his backpack to avoid having to pay the exorbitant hash cash of $7. Finally the hare (Reach Around) showed up on his bike after pre-laying trail and gave us beer from the beer stop cooler. He also came with a warning: if the campus cops tell you to stop, just ignore them and keep going. This seemed like solid advice. We circled up and watched the storm clouds roll in while Whiney told us just how miserable the rain was going to be. The hare requested a 90 second lead time, because…well…trail was already laid and…um…he was still riding his bike. Off he went, only to show back up a minute later going the exact opposite way. At this point, the writing was on the wall: this was going to be a true clusterfuck.
Let me stop for a second to give a disclaimer: I don’t know shit about where we were (or where we ever are), so proper street names and landmarks on trail will henceforth become “this way”, “that way”, “over there”, and “around the bend”.
The pack took off that way and past some sort of campus and baseball field. This is where we first encountered the campus cops, and like good hashers we did what we were told and kept running. It was about this time the rain really kicked in and left us all wondering if this was really worth it. The answer was: kinda? But not worth it enough to follow all of the loop backs that we were starting to find all over the campus. So we did some shortcutting, as Reverse Australian Shepherd said he ran past a big chunk of trail on his way to circle, so he knew where it was going. However, in true hasher fashion, we apparently fucked ourselves out of the beer halt on one of our shortcuts…unless it was the empty Busch Light, half-empty bottle of green tea, and crushed pack of Salems that we ran past on the curb. In that case: shit.
But I digress. The rain didn’t stop, so neither did we. If I could, this is where I would post a YouTube link to either “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen
or “We Can’t Stop” by Miley Cyrus
(Tased, can you make that happen?).
It became apparent that Reach Around intentionally was leading us into and among the human cesspool that is Phish fans, which made us for the first time appreciate the blessing of the rain. Washed clean of the stank of BO and reefer, we also thanked the hash gods for cleansing our taints and allowing our balls to not stick to our thighs during a June hash. (As an aside: I probably heard the word “taint” spoken more on this trail than I’ve heard it in the last 15 years.)
Eventually we came around the bend to find a scooter factory…and our hare sitting in a fucking lawn chair by his car. This was the beer stop, and it was under a bridge so we got a bit of relief from the rain. And at this point I will also take a short break to relieve myself and have a smoke, because my creative juices seem to be waning.
Ok, sorry I’m back…I decided to also eat lunch as my legs got a bit shaky after I peed. The rest of trail was either uneventful or I’m just trying to get to the end of writing this…either way our de facto RA Claim promised us a quick 5 minute end circle to get out of the rain and to the on-after. Unfortunately the hare had a couple more pieces of fuckery for us: 1) there was no on-after and 2) he didn’t show up for circle. Because #2 didn’t become immediately obvious, we were able to take some time to call around to rectify #1. Whiney decided to bring out the newest piece of technology he owns, a transistor radio circa 1941 (because, you know, the Germans are coming). He promised to play us some “blues” but I only heard what sounded more like a sporting event instead of the sweet sounds of B.B. King.
Secret Cervix stood in for our missing hare and took his down-down and…oh wait a minute…THERE HE IS. Pulling in the parking lot 20 minutes late and without a care in the world…and then immediately leaving again to go join the other dredges of society at the Phish concert. Oh well, who needs him anyway. So we swung low and to the on-after we went. As we were hurting for options, we ended up at Wellspent, which is “this way” and then “that way” and next to a barber shop. The place was only half-full, but they had a projector screen hooked up to a laptop as the locals were very engrossed in a game of Stickpuck. The good guys in blue won, and there was much rejoicing. On that note, I bid thee adieu.
-- Louis C.O.C.K.