July 3rd Saturday trail came tight around the coc… corner of the 4th of July Red Dress. Perhaps it was a result of complete exhaustion, there was an intimate but mighty turn out. RUBBER RIPPER led circle to send our fearless hares, SCRATCH N STIFF and SEX-A-SKETCH, away. After quick introductions, of our lone visitor, POUNDED IN THE CAN, the pack was out.
We followed marks from the scenic Indian Tower, through a cemetery, over some dirt mounds, through fields and up and around hills. Our fantastic voyage continued through a jungle of shiggy. We’re used to seeing a dry bag as recommended trail gear, but I do not recall seeing machetes on the recommendations list. We made it through alive, but definitely had a few tangles along the way to our first beer near at a trail intersection near some power lines.
Soon enough the pack was out on horse trails. Through more woods by less dense shiggy. We emerged on a road and expected the trail to cross the make shift dumping area complete with carcasses and debris. To our surprise and delight, we continued on on down the road. At some point, FISHY COP A FEEL decided trail went onto a gated path and disappeared into the woods. For better or worse, the pack continued down the road and eventually found the next beer near at the Slate Quarry Hotel.
Magically, another visitor, WHERE’S MY D, appeared at the beer near and the pack grew in delight. Eventually FISHY appeared with a whopper of a tale that included a property owner, a gun, and some magical escapades. At least he made it to the beer.
Out of the bar and into a stream. Within her first five minutes on trail D was down in the water with a slight hash crash. Through the water wither JUST RAMON advised the faster you wash off poison oils the less likely it affects you. Who wants to be the control subject for that study? Further down the stream we went, onto a playground and down a grassy path. Apparently there was an old folks home and another beer near at a tractor trailer lot. The best part of the tractor trailer was that it said “touches everyone at a time”. Yep, appropriate hash behavior.
From there we went up a hill. At the end of a fantastically shigaliscious trail, this was totally a death march. At some point half the pack went across a corn field and toward the woods. Half the pack continued on the road. Neither was sure they saw marks but both apparently found something and kept going. It was COCTURNAL and I who stayed to the road. Even after we heard the other calling they were one, we carried on because we had marks. They took us near another playground where we made our own swing check. Marks continued on yet another death march up a wooded hill past a baseball field, into the cemetery and back to the Indian Tower.
The part of the pack that ventured in to the woods, likely led by PACKS EM IN THE REAR, apparently thought they were on trail because they found some of the beginning marks and followed them in reverse. Either way, they made it back to circle.
The cream of the top of this shitty trail was the pre-trail shower run from SCRATCHY’s truck. Out-f*cking-standing!
Circle commenced inside the tower and was complete with magical stylings from FISHY.
And that, my friends, if the end of the story.