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. Continue reading
Posted in Hash Trash
728.5th _unning of the Anchorage Alaska Hash House Harriers was a story of the blind leading the naked. Virgin Hares Just Sherry and Just Mariel set out from Cartee Fields at Russian Jack in an attempt to promote physical fitness and generate a great thirst to be quenched with beer. The timing couldn’t have been better. Moments before the pack was set to arrive the men’s slosh ball league piled into the parking lot. From the clatter of beer cans falling out of cars it was impossible to tell who was a hasher and who was there to play base ball.
Despite the directions that Popeye’s Bitch sent out, Takes A Bigger Cock and I’d Fuck Me still managed to find the place. Stretch Ass Strong, proud to show off his name, Cums Solo (Cums Solo H3, Cum Solo AK) and Not Too Sharpie were there along with Donnie The Retard. Uncle Bondage convinced Virgin Jacob and Virgin Malia to see the beautiful homeless camps of Anchorage before returning to California. Of course, Doktor Helga von Boobin was present to tend to any injuries on trail, or offer adjustments if Subaru nmy HUHU had problems with her headlights.
The trail started well enough with a tour around the outside of the baseball games, whistles a blowing to completely screw with the sloshballers. In to the woods, the swamp and OH LOOK A BAG OF BEER. Some how it went down hill from there. Virgin Jacob, always trying to help, took to passing beers to Uncle Bondage by way of flight. After opening them. The rest of the pack was enamored with this exchange and made them keep doing it. Uncle Bondage did his best to drink all the beers, but was quickly come over. Er. Overcome.
The Hares laid plenty of song checks deeper into the woods along with a number of high quality FRBs. Normally glass on trail is a no-no, but it’s hard to complain about a bomber of Kilt Lifter, especially when it comes with an opener. After begging Uncle Bondage for a sip or eight of his delicious FRB, Subaru indicted him for neither finishing it before finding trail or finding the end of the pack.
It’s always good to be aware of one’s surroundings, even in city parks. Every mindful of the local bear population, the hares thought it best to hang a beer check up in a tree. Doktor Helga was unimpressed and unstopped by this challenge. She vaulted onto the nearest set of shoulders and snagged the prize for the parched pack. Three cheers for the Doktor.
Finally back at circle, the virgin no more hares were thanked and doused for laying out a s-h-i-t-t-y t-r-a-i-l. The other virgins were thanked and doused for having the misfortune of showing up to enjoy a Thursday night _un. A quick round of indictments for digitizing before the pack swung lo. Another successful Thursday Night Trail!