LVH3 Trail #268: Hey that’s a 3rd Saturday (2/18/17)

About 30 hashers gathered at the end of an industrial park for February’s 3rd Saturday trail. The hash gods were shining upon us with warm weather and sunny skies as the pack circled up. There were many usuals from LVH3 and a few long timers including UR CUT OFF, JUST TESS, JUST TIM, and F*CK NANA. We also had visitors from Rumson, Summit, Reading and H5 to round out the pack.

The hares, DON’T STOP ME HEAVIN’ and SLUSHY SECONDS, were out and before long the pack took chase along the rail road tracks. We wound around the park admiring the views, including the flying penises and sadly labeled building reading “do not hump”. 

We should have taken that as a warning. Shortly after this ominous building, we had a delightful beer near, complete with playground equipment that may or may not have included humping.  Our next check took us directly to the train tracks where we were greeted by the train police.  They didn’t seem concerned about where our marks were leading us.  Apparently their train car moving around the complex was more important than our pack finding our hares and the next shot check or beer near.  They also were not convinced that this group of half minds could safely check for train traffic and cross without getting hurt.  Sheesh.

So who can guess what happened next???  CHAOS!  Actually, because we’re under achievers, it wasn’t immediate chaos.  That comes later.  Some type A bastard led the pack down an embankment to a heavily traveled road with little to no shoulders and seemed to be back on trail as a few glorious white powder dots presented themselves. 

Off we go into the wild blue of wilderness surrounded traffic on our shitty trail.  Now all hashers enjoy a shitty trail, but this one literally got shitty as we passed a waste water treatment plant.  The smell of shit in the morning can be a satisfying accomplishment to get the day going, but it doesn’t give the same warm and fuzzy feelings when it’s coming from thousands of strangers into one big shit pool.  For anyone out there that has a fascination or quirky fetish and wants to learn more about shit and the complexities of sludge, scum, aeration and the like, talk to UR CUT OFF.  He knows stuff.  Who knew???

Now let’s get back to our shitty trail.  That chaos we were evading arrived when we got to a check and the glorious trail marks disappeared.  Hashers everywhere!  In all directions, searching, scouring!  (Actually most were just loitering on a corner waiting for the type A bastards to figure out which way to go.)  In desperation (and laziness) we call the hares.  Apparently, a few of the marks were pre-laid.  Turns out when we were forced off trail by the train nazis we started following the real trail in reverse!  This shitty trail just kept getting shittier. 

It was time to get serious.  (Or at least as serious as hashers can get.)  Everyone had a choice to make…  Back track and follow trail in the correct direction as it was intended to be followed or continue in the wrong direction and try to meet them along the way.  Hmm…

True to hasher form, half the pack took it from the front and half the pack took it from behind.  Off we went in two different directions to find the hares (and the booze) along the way.

The front end gang banged trail long and hard as they retraced a mile or two to get back on track.  Somewhere among their racist behavioring they found a beer near and the hares.

The rear end gang banged trail slow and steady attempting to pick up a fisherman and cumming across a shady truck parked along the road with beer in the back.  Instant beer near!  Oh the things you find on the back end…  While the half pack meandered about, someone actually found a real beer near hidden in a hole!  Not only was their beer in a hole, there were two holes so as more hashers arrived from the front and rear there was plenty of room for double penetration.

At last!  The pack was reunited for a glorious death march through shiggy and streams, up mountains and through valleys to the final planned beer near, more fisherman, a little swimming by the hashers desperate to wash this trail’s shittiness off and even bald eagles above.  ‘Merica.

But wait, there’s more!  We still weren’t back to circle.  Up hills, over trains and tracks, we finally arrive to close this shit show done.  The most exciting accusation was false and came with repercussions. RUPPER RIPPER accused CAMEL TOW of wearing new shoes on trail only to learn that while they appeared “clean”, they were in fact not new.  Being the upstanding gentleman he is, CAMEL then introduced RUBBER and the rest of the pack to a different kind of “tea bag”.  They both removed their shoe and their sock and proceeded to pour their beverage through the sock into the shoe and drink from there.  And there was much rejoicing!  So what did we learn today kids?

1.       When you make a shitty trail, go all out and make it the shittiest trail you can.  Don’t hold back.

2.       When you’re lost, don’t stress.  Try it from the front, try it from the rear.  A good time can still be had by all.

3.       If you’re ever going to accuse CAMEL of something, make sure it’s at least 10% true.



Snatch out.

Posted in Hash Trash.