Fall Frost Flash Trash

The day started normally enough.  The typical October Saturday in Alaska.  A balmy 40 degrees, light rain.  The hares discovered that the creek and shigg that trail was supposed to be set on had gone from full frozen, easy running to full on swamp.  Then, because trail was being followed by Bubbles on out, the pack size was about twice what was expected.  To make matters worse, a terrifying number of the pack were all wearing shorts and trainers like this were some kind of running club.  

So what you ask?  Well, the half-wit show off hares called this the Fall Frost Flash because it was a a gone in 69 seconds, balls to the wall hash.  69 seconds of lead time for the hares to get away, carrying all the pack beer, flour, flagging tape and spare underwear.  What seemed like a great idea at the time looked like the biggest haring mistake since Day of the Dead (703.1).

After the first stanza of The Road Not Taken (there’s your Frost packies!) the hares sprinted away, wheezing like old men by the first corner.  A nice thick 22oz bomber FRB had Dr. Penis Venkman vomiting immediately out of the gate.  With the whistles right behind them and the rest of the FRBs in sight, the hares desperately sprinted for cover of the woods.  It was a good thing that Strummin n Cummin loaded Uncle Bondage’s boxer briefs with flour because Uncle B forgot to leave enough marks for the pack to follow a straight line to the first beer check.  I’d Fuck Me got to within 10’ of the check and where the hares were sitting and couldn’t find them.  After 10 minutes, the lathered and chilled hares started whistling up the pack.  No one was amused by the dozen cans of Old Chub and Dale’s that greeted them.  Never have so many hashers been so upset at free beer! “Fuck you, I’m not puking like Venkman,” and “Where’s the PBR” were the watchwords for the day.

The pack begrudgingly finished off all the “good” beer and let the hares restart.  Another 69 seconds delay and the hares were back to making biscuits in their britches.  The next mile of tight game trail was all ankle breakers (Nut Wrangler), tight squeezes and short visibility.  Every whistle sounded like it was right there even though it was a quarter mile away.  Just Austin swore he saw the blue flash of the hares scurrying away a half dozen times.  The hands and knees scramble up the hill had everyone picking gravel and devil’s club out of their palms.  Even the ice cold Silver Bullets waiting were a hard sell for this worn out pack.

The next leg was all down hill pavement.  Only the quick turns in the road kept the hares out of sight until they disappeared into the woods.  Up the hill with a dogleg along the fence line.  Bear poop abounded inside and out of the zoo’s fence.  Thankfully, no one tried to molest the mountain goats in their enclosure.

It must have been Stockholm Syndrome or the hares’ complete inability to hear, but most of the post trail FUCK YOUs sounded like, Good Trail and That Was Fun.  A pack that is reluctant to drink beers AND likes sprinting through the shiggy?  What’s this world cuming to???

The ever beloved RA emeritus Luuv Cannal led circle.  Double Ended Dildo was greeted as a visitor after her long absence.  Many of the pack were unaware of her critical role in procuring our sacred vessel.  No one was sure how they should thank her afterwards.  Mandingo Massacre was rewarded for digitizing as was Bubbles for using mortal names.  Jabberwooky took one for a false indictment about cranium gear in circle before There’s A Breastpump in my Cockpit managed to get in a clarification about what constituted head. (Who said head?).  Spanky the Clown was relieved of the HASHIT by Ho White and the Seven Dwarves.

There was a long bought of questioning for the Virgin and an even longer series for a pair of Justs.  Only one awkward marriage proposal later, A2H3 was pleased to welcum its newest named members, Free Candi and Struggle Snuggle.


I Want Anal * is available to sew patches onto Happi Coats.

IC Member reminds you all that t-shirts and sweatshirts are being ordered at the end of the week.  Order early, order often.

Cums Solo is closing orders for Happi Coats on November 9th.

Uncle Bondage, Esq. invited everyone to B2H3’s next trail, Saturday the 18th.


Strummin N Cummin is haring the Halloween trail and party on the 25th.  Details forthcoming.

MAY THE HASH GO IN PEACE.  (May the hash get a piece!)