#48 - The Lesbians Procreated Trail

Start: National Arboretum  

Theme:  The A-4-month-old-has-more-hare-credits-than-you Trail

Hare(s): Camo Sutra, All The Way In, French Toasted, Dude, That Guy

Off we went, at 10:42, the refrain of Hashy-Pokey ringing in our ears.  Eagles left, Turkeys right, Penguins somewhere else (backwards?).  Once the traditional warm-up stroll ended, the Eagle FRBs burst out of the blocks, and were almost immediately stopped by a check.  The solution was straight through the sylvan glade. The pack slowed to make sure that all of Fister’s pieces emerged from his face-plant intact, and then continued on.  The “SQ (Shot Quest? Shot Quandry?)” was quickly solved by the fountain, and a pattern emerged that would be followed the rest of the day.  The FRBs, first to a shot/water/beer check, would help themselves and then blast off again, with the result that the “someday I too would like to be a FRB” mournful cry quietly echoed among the rest of us who would never realize that dream this day.

A second pattern also emerged.  The solution to the first check was right, the next one left, then right, right again, then one straight, another right and then a left.  On odd numbered checks, the pattern was reversed, except the sequence changed on every third even numbered check.  And then the pattern reversed again after the back check.  Well, you get the idea.

Tree trunks to climb over, little rivulets to jump and their bigger kin to wade across, a glorious water check (and also apparently beer, but few were taken) when needed as the temperature rose to match the humidity.  Through fields of brush, ivy of various types, brambles, and other flora, many of them thoughtfully named and described on a placard for those who chose to pause and who could read.  Another highlight was a song check, lustily solved by Fister Roboto, a mathelete in a previous life, who entertained us with what many of us grew up calling the “Song of Pi.”  

And then there were the bees.  For those in the back of the pack, the screams reverberated through the woods and many hurried to see if they could help.  The facts:  Just Katie got hit by five or six of what were later identified as wasps by those at a safe distance.  Stump picked up two or three.  Who was the source of the screams was never made clear.

And then the Eagles came home to rest.  3.97 mi. if you were an average FRB, periodically scouting for solutions to the checks, or 3.76 mi. if you were a member of the pack, eagerly following in the footsteps of those who had gone before.  76F and 94% humidity at the start, 88F and 94% humidity at the end.  Another good day to be us, able to enjoy the wondrous charms of the Hangover Hash.

It would be amiss not to mention the Penguin's glorious trek through the bonsai garden and the panicked scrambling of all of the walkers looking for a corkscrew at the shot check for a, ahem, wait for it... screwtop.  Speaking of other violations, among the many...
Camo Sutra was violated for sex on trail when she stopped the Eagles from running through the bald eagles' mating area - hey, Camo!  we probably all could have used a pointer or six
All The Way In was an overachiever by driving all over the east coast to hash over the weekend (Richmond, Outerbanks, etc)
the Hares were violated for inviting the wasps on trail (remember, anyone can hash, but not everyone's a hasher...)
In the "only from the mouths of hashers" category:
Clit One, Pearl Two Necklace was overheard saying "when it gets wet, it gets longer" A LOT of harriers wanted to know what "it" was
Just B*** said "I like my women like I like my coffee: BLACK!
After doing a spectacular faceplant, Fister Roboto cried out, "I finally found the hole!" (much to Camo's relief, I'm sure)
Deaf Lesbian was congratulated on finally becoming a woman as he discovered just that day that he bleeds once a month (hangover hash coincidence?)
Dude, That Guy was violated for needing a bottle opener for a screw top, and Flying Burrito was violated for having everything but a corkscrew in his backpack (flare gun, snake bite kit, snow shoes, short wave radio, survival suit)
Most importantly, however, there was a very. solemn. occasion:  A NAMING!

Just M***** was born on St. Patrick's Day, his middle name is Donnell, he has six trails and two hare credits, and his parents have sex when he's crying

From this important information, some of the names that were suggested:

Out of the Rabbit Hole
Super Zombie Killer by WAMPCO
But Wait, There's More
Paddy Whacks Alone
4 Breast for Me
Fisting Irish
Clean My Charms
It's Log, It's Log by WAMPCO
First Male in the Vagina
Dick of the Fam
Who's Your Daddy?

After some lively rounds of voting, however, Just M***** will henceforth and forever be known throughout the hashing world (except Great Falls, f* them!) as:

UTERUS MAXIMUS
  
Then we retreated to the Biergarten haus for social drinking and brunch.  See you next month!

Yours in the Hash,
Queen of the Jungle
F* Squid