Hares: FUPA, Face Jam, My Little Goni
Box: the bay next to Bear Rock, Inarajan
On-Home: about 100 yards west of that.
Trail: about 900 yards, 30% pavement, 70% lemondechina plants.
Well, at least the food was good.
FUPA had texted a few people the day before telling them how bad the trail was going to be, but he was underselling it a bit. This trail was like being stuck inside a hot dumpster behind a Mexican restaurant, and the dumpster is full of thorns. We ran up the road for awhile, eventually cutting through a yard to dive headlong into lemondechina plants - most of us patiently picked our way through, with the exception of Fucking Tampon, who ran up shouting 'It's a Hash Run, not a Hash Line!' and plowed into the thorns at full speed, after which followed a Doppler Effect of 'OW OW Ow Ow Ow ow ow ow ow' as he pushed through ahead.
Then we finished trail.
So we stood around mildly confused at the On Home for a minute, before spotting Viagra leading a group around the point towards Bear Rock. "Is he on trail?" "No, he's just heading back to the vehicles in an interesting way." "Sounds good." So roughly 2/3 of the pack decided that 15 minutes of hashing just wasn't enough for a Saturday, even for an event run, and decided to blindly follow Viagra on a whim of a fly. That's how bad trail was. The fly was much better than trail, great views, limestone cliffs, a little coasteering, and twice as long. Almost felt like a hash at that point.
Sometimes awful trails beget great Religions, and this trail failed at that too. 12 FNGs with bad jokes or songs, one very drunk Goni, a few buttchugs, and a giant glittery 'B' that was gifted to the Tyrant, later used as a mantle during Second Religion. Tyrant and RA attempted to invoke the Olymprick spirit via the 20m No Hands Greased Cucumber Carry, won by Jumping Jack Off, but she fell woefully short of the World Record of 10 cukes set by the RA in 2008.
There were of course 2nd, 3rd and 4th religions, some topless, some bottomless, some with our landowner watching in interest, some with the landowner's wife looking for the landowner quite angrily. And an impromptu naked full moon hash. But the weather held up decently, and FUPA's meat kept the crowd pacified. This week will be FUPA's shoe down-down, so come on out, because while we'll always have shitty trails, we'll rarely have such great food at the end of them.