Fighting the crowds, hopping barricades, fleeing from officials, we truly hadn’t realized what magnitude our hashes had grown to, but evidently this was a hash not be missed. Once we arrived behind our usual meetingplace (a back alley), things were a bit more calm. Evidently the cheering crowds had been misled by some sort of commotion along Main Street so we circled up in peace. There were some out-of-town hashers in the form of Poo’Tang and Lick’NLizard from Vancouver and WiseCracker and ButtFloss from Edmonton. Hares CumQuad and Philthy gave the pack some cursory hints as to what may or may not transpire over this hash. It was a dead hare so with nary a gunshot… we were off.

Off to the track where we had our first (of many) IronTrivia checks. We paired up according to who was standing nearby and still somewhat sober. From there it was almost a straight shot down Main Street lined with adoring fans who cheered us on. Most of them were facing the wrong way but they’d probably been drinking as well. A police officer tried to figure out what was going on, but he was as confused as the rest of us and settled for a photo shoot with the cuties. Once we’d run out of town to run the pub came into sight and we all piled in and upstairs. The hares kindly provided us with jugs of frothy brew and we could make catcalls at the spandex clad cyclists racing past.

From there it was over to South Main Street where we did a lovely hymn check in front of the PCR station, regaling the crowd on what we think of triathletes. Beating a quick retreat the trail soon lead upwards and onto the bench. We then headed north for many, many miles and ended up at a lovely beer check near the creek. Stinky and Goatbag were awarded the prize for having the most correct triva questions (rigged obviously). Then it was downhill (like most hashes) to circle up back at the start.

Downdowns were meted out to:
Hares CumQuad and Philthy for a godawful long, hilly hash filled with far too many tri-geeks. Special note made of Philthy for missing the last hold.
Spermie, Stinky, Long ‘N Hard and JustEd - wearing race apparel.
SnatchShot- Using non-hasher names.
Wisecracker - Complained about sore calves from run the day before and then was the FRB the entire hash.
LickNLizard - So excited about getting beer at a nearby pub he ran over the backcheck marks.
JustMyranda - Being far too matchy-matchy in her running garb.
DogSnatcher - More volume needed in her calls.
ButtFloss and Poo’Tang - Remarked how lovely it was here… here being up an awfully long hill after an awfully long run.
Goatbag - Some trumped up charge that was hastily forgotten.
[photos to come, website not quite operational at the moment]

Another Summer Sunday, lazy hazy days filled with the smell of beer. Our group assembled in Kenyon Park on the advice of hares, Dog Snatcher and JustAnthony. After some obligatory chalk-talk about arrows, circles and dead hares, the group ambled off. Following a false trail northwards we ran into MoanerLisa, who had wisely decided to run 16 km to the start in the heat of the day. Regrouping we headed southwards deeper into rural OK Falls. After overcoming a tricky creek crossing filled with poisonous snakes, we came upon a grassy field with a shady tree and a cooler full of beer. The Beer Check! A game of football broke out among those who obviously hadn’t run hard enough.

Nourished, the pack gained momentum and blindly wandered about the field. Someone finally mentioned that they’d seen marks on the way in and we headed back the same way. The FRB’s fulfilled their roles and sprinted past the arrow turn. We waited till they were about half a mile away and then called them back. Winding around some more in the suburbs we eventually made it back to the highway and at high risk to ourselves sprinted across and back into the park.

Downdowns were issued to the following miscreants:

Hares Dogsnatcher and spouse JustAnthony for unbelievably dangerous creek crossings, dangerous trails, I could go on.
Snatchshot - Uttering non-hasher names.
Blowflex - Trying to give the hash-shit away at the beginning of the run.
MoanerLisa - Arriving late and uttering non-hasher names.
Mantracker - Uttering non-hasher names. (Is nothing sacred in this group?)
Philthy - Trying to engage the R.A. in a race, and I think beating him.
JustCole - For being so experienced at being in a sportsfield and still being unable to find the marks leading off of it.
JustNick & BlowFlex - FRB’s blowing past yet another mark. (see previous hashes)
BlowFlex - JustNick called up Blowflex and showed off her fancy schmancy ‘Ultraman’ race cap to the crowd. For shame.
JustNick was then named ‘CumQuad’ in honour of his “accident” at the Barking Parrot. (See Hash 97)

The hashers then retired to the trestle for diving, swimming and other water-related activities. From there it was off to Tickleberry’s, home of the world’s largest line-up and apparently ice cream. And they all lived happily ever after. On-On!

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