Since the worthless RA forgot to assign someone the job of writing hash trash, said worthless RA will write hash trash. It's gonna be worthless.

It was a gorgeous day in the 'burbs for trail 2 of the Dewey and TSA Emergence Days Celebration, the annual week we celebrate two of our beloved harrierette's existences.  A nice crowd gathered in a bank parking lot, including some Very Good dogs, S&M&M&M Man from Houston's Brass Monkey H3, Monistat's GGG virgin Just Kim, and some returners we'd not seen in a while and wouldn't see again on trail.  TSA led us through a very clear and well-organized chalk talk, not at all laughing too hard to stand and having to be reminded by the pack about Beer Stops and the like.

The pack took off into some nearby residential neighborhoods, encountering bewildered people who wanted to know why we were running, and seemed to believe GladHeAteHer when he explained we're all ultra-marathoners. After the Turkey/Eagle split the turkeys gathered on a playground to drink beer and eat startlingly delicious Schnucks Baby Back Ribs chips while the eagles did their five miles trail, which hopefully gave them whatever they needed to feel okay not getting any of those chips.  A quick amble back to start was marked by concerns that Pillow Biter Fucker  had not shown up to beer stop or circle, but then the pack got distracted by more Schnucks Baby Back Ribs chips and figured Pillow Fucker was probably okay because those chips were so damn delicious.  Your worthless RA had correctly remembered Dewey had passionate feelings about lemon bars and made some to celebrate, but had misremembered the DIRECTION of said passion.  Your worthless RA had also had enough to drink that her Broca's area failed her utterly, resulting in word salad the pack deemed Gladdy-esque and awarded her the hashit.  

Sweet Ho: "What if I flash to get out of it?  Who drinks it then?"
Everyone: "THE RA."

See?  Worthless.

-- Sweet Ho Alabama

********************************************************************************************************

Oh. Hey there. You look confused. Is it because I helped hare trail AND I'm writing the hash trash? Makes sense, but if you think about it, no one said hares can't do that. No rules in hashing, right? Well, strap on, you're in for a bumpy ride.

To really start the tale, we're going to go back, WAY back, to June of 2018. After a fairly successful week of haring, TSA and I vowed never to do it again. Why? Well, it sucked. Setting one trail is hard enough, even when phoning it in, so doing 5 or 6 took a real toll. So when we got drunk after a Tumbling Dice in January and thought it would be a great idea to do it again, the pain of that week must have worn off. We did make a few revisions. Instead of both of us haring every trail, we'd kind of stick to one solo each, two together, and two "we'll figure it out when we figure it out." I set Sunday solo, and this was the second in a possible 6-part trail week.This trail fits into that last category.

I told TSA earlier in the evening that I could help out since I'd be off work a little early. I let her know that I was on my way to Kirkwood and she told me to go to the Kirkwood Unitarian Church. Cool. I actually couldn't find one on my app, but there was an Eliot Unitarian in Kirkwood so that had to be it. Almost there, I get another message that she meant Kirkwood United. No worries, it's right up the road. Lindbergh road. Which is about 4 miles from the start. I thought this was odd, but it's a TSA trail, so I wasn't really sure. I get to the church, no TSA. She sends her location. THERE ARE TWO KIRKWOOD UNITED CHURCHES WTF. No sweat, I zoom over to where she is, but (and I really didn't know this) she was running and laying trail while messaging me. So we agree that I'll go and set from the T/E to the BS and meet at circle. Done.

We circle up and Sweet Ho starts us off by blessing the birthday sash I brought for TSA to wear. And we learned that this would be Secret Cervix's last trail with us for a while. As soon as we get her back, off she goes! :( Since trail was pretty much pre-layed, TSA and I could take the quick way to the BS, set a few marks that we missed, and drink some Sea Quench while we wait for the pack. We moved spots to get away from some children at the park and the Turkey's quickly arrived within minutes of us cracking open our beers. Turns out, Turkey was about a mile to the BS. Eagle was much, much farther.

About 5 miles longer, give or take .5, but it also included a fishhook and a shot stop. So about an hour after the Turkey trail arrived, the Eagle trail met us at Pioneer Park. Since we had stashed TSA's car at the BS, I asked her when we should go to which she replied, "probably soon we have to set the end of trail." Um, what. "Why didn't I do that? Or we could have done that on our way to the park. Or I could have done it in the hour that we were waiting." TSA just laughed and shrugged, and we decided to go ahead and get moving on that. I zig-zagged pretty much the way we took to get there and TSA and the pack were soon back at circle.

There were some awesome lemon bars that I enthusiastically ate because I'm polite as fuck and my Italian grandmother would roll over in her tomb if she found out I passed on pastries. They weren't that bad, I promise. Dusty Box's dog LOVED them and licked the pan clean. And they lick their own buttholes so what does that tell you?

The on-after was planned at Village Bar. They stopped serving food at 9 so some people moved to Three Kings. Which also stopped serving food. So then we went to Circle 7. No one knew this though, unless you were with the group that went since no one posted an update on the event page. I had a beer at Village Bar and then TSA came in to let us know. Because she didn't hit 'send' on her message to me. Everything's fine, we only have 4 more trails to do!

Circle 7 has a burger called the OMG, consisting of five patties, cheese, LTOP, and served on a bed of fries. I ordered that. We did a toast at midnight for my actual birthday. No regerts. I love this hash.

See you Friday! Dewey