I filled my car with gas; bought beer; water; food; extra
clothes; checked the battery; fluid levels; air in my tires and I was ready to
Being hashers we quickly started devouring the food. Along the way there was a vote for best chili. The green crock pot beat the white crock pot, although as a Texas-ex I have to state for the record that neither entry was technically chili since they both contained beans. As witnessed by Chili Appreciation Society International, Inc. bylaw A – 2: No Fillers in Chili – Beans, macaroni, rice, hominy or other such similar ingredients are not permitted. www.chili.org/documents But since this wasn’t an officially sanctioned chili cook-off I guess we can let it slide (and because they were both really good.)
After the shortest chalk talk in history we boarded the hay wagons and away we went. As expected there were a lot of winding country roads, Sammy Hagar tunes, a couple of drinking games, way too much information shared, several bottles passed around and a couple of piss stops We eventually made it to the beer stop which surprise, surprise was a bar. The hares, Bama and Red Meat Rocker took off with their flour and the pack (at least the ones that ventured out of the bar) followed trail. The hares ran our legs into bloody stumps. Mercifully they stopped the punishment after about five miles, I mean blocks. Regardless the pack was happy to see the end of trail and go inside for yet more beer.
We piled, jumped, staggered and fell into the wagons to prepare for the second half of trail. Along the way it got increasingly foggy. Not atmospherically but mentally. I remember Flossit pouring Buttery Nipples over her nipples and then asking if someone/anyone wanted to lick it off. There was much rejoicing. I remember someone puking in Elbow Deep’s lap. No one offered to lick it off and there was no rejoicing. Thanks to the efforts of our long suffering driver Famous we made it back to the start. I think we blew off naming DFL’s, back sliders, virgins, significant runs; hell I think we blew off the entire circle.
As I rolled out of bed Sunday morning I noticed straw all over my bedroom floor. I wonder where that came from? Yet another festive hash that only left me wondering, “Why didn’t I make it to any of the previous year’s hay rides?”