STATE OF GEORGIA :
v. : Trail No. 15
ORDER FOR HASHTRASH
COMES NOW, KY Confucktor, attorney for the pack and pleads the herein Hashtrash for the 15th Running of the Rumblin’ Roman Hash House Harriers.
It was a nearly raining day in Cartersville, Georgia, the pack met at a nice Baptist church parking lot, was ran off by the deacons, but returned for more when the Saturday Christians left. The pack was assembled and ready to go but Hugh left his top secret phone on trail and had to delay to go find the beer check and his phone, so the local criminals didn’t catch wind of “operation blah blah blah.” So we drank. And then we ran.
Hares were Hugh and Supersuck (all one word!) and although Supersuck tried to start trail solo she held up and waited for her co-hare. They led out from the church, the pack prayed, sang amazing grace, drank (there was no communion wine so….) and waiting there allotted time began their chase.
Trail led behind a nice swamp and wound around to some railroad tracks (Hugh haring and railroad tracks…when does that happen?) The pack minus me went through the tracks and into a swamp for some check fest. I in my imminent wisdom took the tracks to try and box the hair. Not sure how the pack took the swamps, trails and neighborhood that followed on trail. I ran about a mile down the tracks, found some nice railkill and after not seeing any powder and seeing a close bridge decided to turn around and huff it back.
Meanwhile, 25 yards up ahead on the tracks was a beer check which the pack was about to find. I ran and ran back on the tracks and ran through the trail (no kicked checks, thanks very much.) and finally caught up to the pack just pass the beer check which I had already ran 90% to.
I learned that no one had seen Cream me up in a bit, but the rest of the pack was jovial (minus aunt G). Trail led through some nice forest area containing numerous sink holes. We paused to look for Cream, but he was still no where to be found; although if anyone is looking for a slightly used dishwasher head back to that sink hole.
Lick and Felt Her, and the one he licks and feels along with Thumbs, and the one he licks and feels and I all made our way slowly up the mountain, while Leaky Conch sped along and was soon lost to us, save a few whistle blows in the distance.
At the top of the mountain after a few on-ups, and a nice car seat where Aunt G found a breather the pack was swarmed by yellow jackets (not marked btw), a short run down the hill and along a power line cut (and some nice black berries) led to an abandoned neighborhood and finish.
Juicy Coot had bimboed the goods and the pack rejoiced with libations. NFN Shaina was FBI and almost got named, but the pack tabled it for her next run after Lick and Felt Her gave us way too much material. Cream Me Up (this time he did have the power cap’n) was the First of the pack in, while myself, Thumbs and Aunt G all competed for DFL honors. Hugh drank for the cell phone snafu (and when one hare drinks…)
Lick and Felt Her drank for forgetting his Hard Hat. Hell, we all drank…and it was good.
Next trail is August 10th, a bit north west of Rome. Finish may be in Alabama so make sure you pack your passport/birth certificates.