(By Philthy)

Five hashers (Shunty, Goatbag, H2S, Stinky and Philthy) and the hare (Stareshard)

assembled outside Anthony’s on a grey and windy November day. The rest of the Shiggy Dusters were no doubt busily readying for Christmas and in memory of long lost friends we adorned festive antlers.

We circled up blessed the hash and hare who then engaged us in some brief chalk talk – including instructions to look out for the Hor check and buy something for $2.

The hare requested a 10 minute head start and so some of the (smart) hashers retreated into the pub for warmth and sustenance.

With the clocking ticking we began the chase, running north on Skaha Lake Rd. Within minutes we were hopelessly lost and seemingly corralled by a construction site fence. It was a sign of things to come……….

We lurched from one mysterious mark to the next – hashers united in condemnation of a hare who had seemingly lost us and the plot.

We eventually came across the Hor check at Tim Hortons, well at least Shunty did, but there was confusion about what to do? Goatbag seemed more interested in the adjacent sex shop, and ran past carrying the $2 which was meant to be used to purchase a donut for the hare (not that he deserved a f*#king donut). Meanwhile H2S enlightened us with advice about how Walmart had all the necessary sex-aids at a much cheaper price.

Tired of shopping we longed for the beer check! Philthy was convinced that it was going to be at Berdick, but alas nothing. The trail then took us back south and our hopes were raised yet again as we came across the hare’s house. But, cruelly nothing!!! On-On we cried as we ran across a field full of goose shit.

By now we’d lost interest in the trail and zenned our way back past Anthony’s to the beer check which finally appeared in the park by Skaha Lake. Thankfully, it was over! Tired and confused the hashers expressed their displeasure to the hare. The hare by now cold and smelling of beer greeted the hashers with the comment ‘you’re a bunch of retards!’

And, there ended a Hor-rible hash.

Down downs:

Stareshard – shitty trail,……..etc etc….but mainly for showing up!

H2S for constantly singing last week’s Hashing song ‘Take me down to Penticton City’ and for non-stop talking about shopping at Walmart for his sex-aids.

Goatbag – I think this was for initiating the talk about sex shops and what they sell.

Shunty – For losing half his manhood (antlers) shortly after starting out.

Stinky – For disappearing into the f*#king cold shortly before the Hash was to begin, as only Stinky can do.

Philthy for not shouting On- f*#king -On and losing his down down glass.

Had it been a year already?  How the time had flown.  On not a bad Sunday, we gathered below Dickweasel’s place to engage in yet another cocktie run.  Stinky was chosen to be R.A., much to his disbelief.  Dickweasel carefully opened his folder of paper penises and doled them out according to some sort of system, we weren’t too keen to ask.  We donned the phallic ties and waited for instructions.  Part of the run was a dead hare, and the other part wasn’t.  Flour, purple chalk and no back-checks.  With that, he hopped across the highway and climbed up a steep knoll, using half of his 10 minute lead in the process.

The group consisting of Stinky, Spermy, HardToSwallow and Goatbag started out and some preferred to meander around the knoll while some charged up the steep clay bank.  On the far side we found that massive landscaping was underway above the KVR and we could see little squiggly white marks out in the middle.  Upon closer examination we discovered it was a back-check…. bastard! Spermie had been meandering and was trying to zen somewhere out on the KVR but as per usual we left her up to her own devices. Retracing our steps we wound through the campground, along the beach and into the tunnel under the highway.  There, scrawled upon the wall were the lyrics to a well-known song “Take me down to Penticton City, where the grass is green and the grits are pretty…”   Grits?  We had to sing it three times, and unfortunately HardToSwallow got it stuck in his head and sang it the rest of … the day.  Spermie rejoined us at that point and we continued on.

Turning up Airport Road the trail led into the bush followed by a check at the KVR spur.  We swore that Stinky did a good half mile before deciding to turn and follow us, but we were impressed.  Back onto the highway we turned off into Skaha Meadows parking lot where Dickweasel had the beercheck set up.  Those who had no balls were given some (golf) and we were directed back out and up the hillside.  Perched high above the gravel pit we found some golf clubs and had great fun whacking at the balls and dirt clods and other stuff.  We then descended down to Dickweasel’s place, being very careful NOT to get caught in the barbed wire fence and have to get a tetanus shot.  The BBQ was cooking dogs and chips and beer were quickly brought out and a bowling match commenced in between golf swings.  HardToSwallow would pick up the golf club, flail at the golf ball, hurl the club down in disgust and march off.  Repeat umpteen times.  Sort of like the ‘Take me Down’ song.

We circled up and down-downs were issued to the following:

Dickweasel, the hare:  For haring a horrendous hash, with miswritten lyrics, back-checks where there should be no back-checks!
Stinky: For calling on-on when there was no mark. (it all sounds so familiar)
HardToSwallow: For being ultra-competitive at the bowling extravaganza.
Spermbank: ?
Goatbag: For once again being the Hash Flash and showing up with dead batteries. (sorry, no photos, folks)

There were many more down-downs delivered in typical Stinky-style and some tales from the trail but those were all I could remember.  Once the circle had been officially closed, Goatbag revealed his ‘Beer Mile’ Championship medal from the day before that he had secretly been wearing.  And all was good.

“So won’t you puh-leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, take me home”   Eat your heart out, Axl.  On-on!