The Inaugural Hash
At 1620 on Sunday 18, the first hash of the hvh3 got underway. It’s start was a little delayed, because the still Master-presumptive was setting up the most important part of the trail, the beer check.
However, the unphased and eager hares got underway at 1628 or so, giving the Master-presumtpive only 8 of the 10 minute head-start he requested. The trail led the half WH3/HVH3 pack around the Umass Campus, showing them some of the choicer sights of the campus, romping in the shiggy behind the church and near the purple and green lots past the LGRT, up Orchard hill (and we mean UP), to a welcome beer check. Orchard Hill has since been renamed OhShit Hill at the request of Pipe Blower. The trail then lead the pack ot FAC, Southwest (where the sight of the kilted Master-presumtive made many high school girls swoon, not to mention make him easy to track), Tobin Hall, the AFROTC building (the Master-presumptive’s tribute to BlackHole), our wonderful sinking library, along the pond, past the Aweful Waffle, and on back to the LGRT.
The FRBs BlackHole and Rail Rider came in 5 minutes after a very much concerned Master. He knew that members of the pack were hot on his trail, and he had lost his back-up shorts. If he got caught and skinned, he was guaranteed an arrest for wearing the kilt properly… The rest of the pack came in 20 minutes after the FRB’s. This was mostly because they found the beer check, and decided to slowly cruise through the rest of the trail.
The pack felt that the trail was well marked (Minute Dick’s sole misguided, and dissenting opinion ignored), even though the two FRBs BlackHole and Rail Rider blew right past the beer-check. They complained, but the REST of the pack had no trouble seeing the BIG ‘B’ on the observatory… Pacification of the two FRBs was accomplished by the offering and quaffing of a cold brew.
The post-hash bash was held at the Master-presumtive’s soon-to-be vacated apartment. There, the Master-presumtive ceremoniously down-downed and was officially baptized as the HVH3 hash master by WH3 master-emeritus BlackHole. He was surprisingly gentle with the plunger and live chicken…
The new Master, after letting rip a good Genny Ale belch, proceded to tempt fate by calling for a naming session of three WH3 hashers who hashed that day. First tackled was Jason Sardell. This sixth-time hasher was hard to name, definitely challenging the assembled quorum of grey matter present. However, ‘Hitting Puberty’ seem appropriate for this hasher, as his scruffy goatee makes him look like he is a 17 year old trying to look 16, even though he can even legally buy beer now…
Dave Howland almost didn’t get named, but again, the assembled grey matter finally came through, maybe because it was sufficiently re-energized by the Genny Ale and food provided. ‘Missing Nuts’ seemed like a good handle for this high school hasher who managed ot loose a few nuts on the robot he was taking care of for a robotics competition. Always missing his nuts, that one…
Lastly, the pack tackled the un-named Amanda Stachelek. After the tackling, we got down to naming her. It seemed that many of the pack had already given some beer-addled thought to naming the Master’s girlfriend. The only nominations were ‘Pipe Blower’ and ‘Boucing Buddies’. For some odd reason, she was christenebnd ‘Pipe Blower’ The Master can’t quite figure out why…. This was probably the fastest hash naming the the history of hashdom. No sooner was Pipe Blower suggested then it slapped upon amanda…
After a down down for these newly named hashers, and the de-flowering of our one virgin, David Scott, with another down-down, the master appointed the new and unnamed David as the “Spiritual Advisor” for the HVH3 and Pipe Blower as the ‘On Sex/Hash Trash’. These seemed appropriate, either in terms of duties or name… Davis is partly reasponsible for dragging in new people, and Pipe Blower will be responsible for Hash news, such as hash annoucements and write-ups like this one.
David got right down to business, and quenched the pack’s burning desire for a good spiritual tune. ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariot,’ complete with sign language was warbled by the beer-lubricated voices of the pack. With that, the Master figured that things really couldn’t get much better, so he kicked eveyone out of his apartment. They were leaving anyway, so it didn’t matter.
For those of you who didn’t show-up, you missed a good hash. The Master knows a little about what he is doing. Fair warning, though, there will be another hash in a couple of weeks. The Master needs to heal a little, before tackling the always ‘unique’ challenge of planning of a hash.
and as always, the Master is looking for a few good hares in the amherst area. pack running is fun, but for the truly ‘gifted/insane/phucking nuts/half-brained, haring the boot…
Blow My Pipes, the Master.
Bring a Sponge Hash
Yet again the Master has planned and succesfully self-executed a hash in the Amherst area. The Master arrived at Groff Park at 1558, ready to go after dicovering about 8 runners eager to start. The hash didn’t get underway until 1613, as it was felt that not everyone is on exactly the same clock.
With the explaination of markings to the intrepid pack, the Master asked for a 10 minute head start, and then ran his kilted ass out of the park, and within minutes, was ‘in the bush’, romping through the shiggy of the conservation area across Rt 116. That was a good thing for the Master, as Dave Scott, our resident spiritual advisor, asked for a time check at 7 minutes. He quickly decided that 7 minutes was adequate time for a head start. It’s only that little Scottish turd’s second hash, and already he knows all about breaking the non-existant hash rules and traditions. his training is almost complete… 🙂
The pack quickly discovered, however, that the master could utulize all of his half-hash brain, and also discovered the reason behind the ‘Bring a Sponge’ name. Thier first Fort River crossing brought them just behind the Boulders apartments. The undaunted, though foot-heavy pack now slogged through the cat-tails and trash-infested woods of the Boulders and Southpoint apartemnts to the Beer check just outside of the Master’s apartment.
Sufficiently re-energized, the pack took off to explore the residential area across from the SP and B apartments. Some half-brained members of the pack missed a false mark, and hopped and skipped into some farmer’s newly lyed field. the pack obviously thought that this was a great ploy of the Master’s, disguising his flour droppings as lye markings as an ingeniously clever, and diabolical way to hide trail. The Master, though, had opted to continue marking and pounding trail on road.
Some harriers soon realized that they had royally screwed up, turned back, and found true trail. The rest of the pack decided that even though they had screwed the pooch, trail might be found on Rt. 116. This was after, of course, certain harriers member found out how electric fences work. Fortunately, no one found out how they work while relieving themselves.
These harriers were eventually found by the master, after he had waited for over twenty minutes at the end of the hash, and after walking the last 1/4 mile of the hash. The master really wanted beer, and decided that even if they were to strip him, they couldn’t argue with the “on beer at ‘pipes” already written at the hash start/end.
Those harriers on the true trail found their way across Fort River again, on to the front of the aformentioned farm’s field, and on into the Common School and Larch Hill Conservation area on 116.
Then, the rest of the true trail, also found by the lye-loving harriers, went behind the Amherst Public Works Department, behind Groff Park into a freshly mowed field belonging ot someone, into some shig, across some lovely barbed wire, across the Fort River again, and on into the park.
Those on the true trail came in about 15 minutes after the lye-lovers, who had also manged to pick up three extra veteran hashers mid-hash, unbeknownst to the Master.
The post hash bash was another success story. Five virgins were de-flowered with the classic down-downing of the beverage of their choosing, and the naming of a boot hasher was accomplished. Joe Coll had managed ot crawl through six hashes by this time, and nominations for a handle were called for. The quorum of Grey Matter put forth ‘Daisy Dukes’ for Joe’s classic cut-off jean shorts, ‘The Anti-Cock’ for his classic ‘Antioch’ T-shirt, ‘Daisy the Anti-cock’ was also dropped into nomination as a worst of both worlds, and ‘Tackleberry’ for Joe’s closet gun fetish.
Suffice to say, ‘The Anti-Cock’ won out, and Joe will now forever hash under that handle–until we think of something worse to name him, of course.
The next hash is kinda up in the air… The Anti-Cock has perhaps promised a hash sometime next week, in a totally new part of the Happy Valley. This hash is rumored to be on August 15. More to follow
BMP, The Great Poom-Pa