Hash Trash

#038 – BMW 430 Itchy Edition


    Twisted my ankle, cut my finger, shitty trail indeed.
    At least my shoe got sucked off.

Dear friends, this is pure poetry. Thoreau, Emerson, Wordsworth, all fall short in describing the majesty of Renegade Trail #38 and all its wilderness splendor, therefore this balladry should win some kind of award.


The following account is in no way biased because it was written by one of the hares. That would be unprofessional, violate journalistic integrity, and quite frankly bring disrepute upon the name of the Hash House Harriers world-wide. Shame upon you and your house for entertaining the matter.

If any of this sounds like Low German that was translated into High Bullshit, you’re damn right. Trail started in Madison County on the rustic shores of Deer Creek, near the intersection of Rusty Propane Tank Rd. and Sagging Barn Rd. The hares, BEAMER and ITCHY BITSY had scouted a flawless trail, with only minor water crossings and a little bit of trailblazing.

Chalk talk brought us a good number of Dayton H3 folks, thanks to BEAMER: COCK-A-NOODLE, FIDO, PUSS ‘N BOOBS, and JUST KIMBERLY. Welcome to Columbus London, enjoy your stay…err, I hope your stay was enjoyable. Yeah. Glad to see GOES DOWN ON THE TIP as well. Don’t be a stranger, Tippy!

After some trunk beers trail started on a desire path down the banks of Deer Creek. A check quickly confused SERIALBATER, as he was lost in the woods and had to be rescued by a trusty hare/sweeper. As the trail led on, it was less like a desire path and more like a deer path.

The second check sent the pack into an area that led to the leading quote. When trail was scouted, the weather was beautiful, it was a little squishy on the shoes, although it hadn’t rained in 9 days. Several days of rain later (and a steady rain on the day of) led to the awesome hares saying “fuck it, we’re doing it, so will they.” COCK A NOODLE got sucked off, PUSS ‘N BOOBS had a seat, and everyone else greatly enjoyed the knee deep nature that awaited them.

At the end of the swamp was a margarita quest: a BEAMER exclusive. Trail lightened up a bit, crossing a corn field. Then to a missed check (ok, BEAMER had to piss so she laid a false…shhh), where everyone ran back into the woods. Once that was cleared up, on down the field to more shiggy. WORKING MEMBER described your humble hare as “a tall asshole” for running trail through that particular point. Let the record show the hares did it multiple times, even the tall ones.

Trail loosened up a bit down a road to a Boy Scout camp, where we had a beer quest. Three really good beers were enjoyed, then on-on. A couple picture stops at the park sign and the dam led to the parking lot on the other side, where some beer and more orange food was had, along with a song.

Now on to the other side of the lake. Trail started up a path, then through some back yards, then into the shiggy and water again. On the other side was the fountain of beer, and the nicest shitter on trail. This would be where ILLUMINUTTI took off his shoes and people hung clothes out to dry.

Trail went down an existing 1/2 mile loop, halfway. Then it ended up in backyards and through some woods along the shore. The previously scouted trail had been obliterated by storms perfectly preserved and so a trail through virgin wood was a breeze. Trail took a turn west to go uphill go around the creek find a way around a fence. But after the shiggy was a shot near, with a bottle of honey jack waiting.

Trail was on the downhill spiral now, five bouts of alcohol in. Fumble steps across the field, show them ohio’s here. Set the earth reverberating, a break in fence is near. Through some minor shiggy and over/under a fence to on-in. Apparently the early arrivers got accosted by Johnny Goodneighbor, who saw us walking across a field. He stopped, on a state highway, to tell us we were trespassing. Your humble hares had secured permission beforehand, so we kindly sent him on his way, but scuttled plans for circle on site, lest the sheriff get involved.

Circle was therefore held at the on-after, where after 5 alcohol nears, no one is expected to be coherent. BEAMER did an awesome job in scoring $4 pitchers of Fat Tire and Angry Orchard, so that just helped the cause. SERIALBATER did his best distributing down-downs, songs were sung, we had fun, and maybe some visitors weren’t scared off this time.

God Bless America, and God Bless the USA
Itchy Bitsy