05 November 2005
46. Flock Ewe
Black Sheep H3/Bear Creek H3 - 23 Jan 05
The Trash is the Scribe's Best Friend
Black Sheep Hash #376
Bear Creek Hash #5
Hares: 1 hungover Momma Bear and 1 hungover Poppa Bear
Pack: XXX Cajun Cubs
Every hash trash should have a theme. You know, something to tie everything together in a happy little package. (He said package.) This week's theme should be obvious, considering the two hares were in the middle of their cajun-slash-birthday weekend. But my God, it was cold. I'll try to avoid whining about the sub-40 degree temp and concentrate on what was another great Sunday Sunday Sunday.
It was past 1:30, and we of The Faithful Flock were gathering at a prime shiggified area near the corner of Fulton Industrial and Cambellton Road in south Fulton County. This was a joint hash, with Bwana and Company sharing the joy with Pussy_Pilot, the all-in-one mismanagement team of Bear Creek. The sun was out, but it wasn't doing much good in the warmth department. The first thing I noticed when I pulled up along Cochran Road was that people were shivering. Just as I was wondering whether I should feel guilty for being a backsliding BlackSheeper, I saw L&F fly by with his latest offering: a shiny rainbow spandex miniskirt with a matching tube top. OK, that answers my question: there's no shame at the hash.
Our overachieving hares for the day were Little Easy and Gasshole, who had just been the Hares of Record for Pinelake the day before. They had also been the Hosts of Record for what has been a quality ATL tradition: Easy's Cajun Food Festival. So would all that food and booze slow them down? We would see shortly. PP had us all kneel down before the flour-laden duo, and they were away.
Five minutes later, the pack scampered off down Cochran (he said Coch) Road, where we were immediately greeted by our first check along a power cut. I didn't realize this until later, but there were a ton of hills on this trail. The first one was right near the check, and had a huge, buzzing power line tower sitting on top of it. As some of us dashed up looking for flour, I glanced way down the opposite side of the hill and noticed a small black speck in the distance. That would have been Surly Temple doing his first bit of boxing for the day.
Dollops of flour led us to a huge clear-cut and bulldozed area, where the Evil Developers were building a colony for more intruding humans. All that was rising up through the dirt was some curbs, minus even the sidewalks. We found a check here in the middle of this Georgia-clay desert, which meant we were going to have to do a little extra hunting for the next mark. Minutes later, we ran into another check at the top of another hill, which looked down over an entire valley of opportunities. The pack sprinted down and fanned out, some checking roads leading to nowhere, others combing large areas of grass and dirt. I took the middle of the valley, where a smaller, but still impressive hill awaited me. I rushed up and got an amazing 200+ degree view of hounds everywhere, combing the vast expanse for signs of flour. From here, trail led into the tree line on the other side of the valley. Right before we dove into the forest, we came across Burnt Rubber and Surly Temple's initials scratched in the clay, telling us of a snare.
The rest of trail went very quickly, with lots of forest, but without too many briars or Easy's patented patches of hamsterland. At one point, some of us came flying down a hill to find 2 Crabs and TLS standing on an access road, basking in the glow of another snare. As far as my half-mind can remember, this snare came right before or after our jaunt past a huge water treatment plant that had millions of dollars of equipment sitting on... yup... more Georgia clay. Hell no, they couldn't be bothered to lay down assfault.
The last third of trail contained two big creek crossings. We got over the biggest one with the help of a huge drainage pipe. For the other one, most of us were able to leap to a point halfway up the bank on the other side, and climb our way up to the top. Because of that, we hit the On In with our feet dry. (Translation: relatively warm.) Not only that, we were greeted to large pots of hot food, hot spiked cider and other culinary delights. We stuffed our faces and guzzled our brew with the Chattahoochee River flowing next to us.
Pussy Pilot tore us away from the fire and circled us up for a series of soon-to-be (in)famous Bear Creek down-downs, consisting of Beast Light spiked with Malt Liquor.
I heard two Tales of the Trail when we got in. One was that Gasshole got lost somehow, and ended up coming in toward the back of the pack as a hound. Another involved Sani, Yuron, Donny, Red Breast, Yassir and Bwana having to make a huge detour near the water treatment plant because they were trying to avoid some really cranky guy with big equipment. No, not the equipment in his pants, equipment that had motors. Imagine the group's surprise when they ran into the chivalrous pair of Bunny and Davey, who had waited for them about 30 minutes to make sure they got back to flour. Awwwwww, that's sweet.
Also overheard at the On In: 1. (near the fire) "The best is having a hot ass." (And not near the fire) 2. "Only my boobs are cold." and 3. "If I had any more shrinkage, I'd have an inny."
Notable mentions include Out-of-Towners Goldilocks and TLS, Maconites Cheaper and Floppy Dick, and two new faces, Puta Cockinit and Slip 'n Side.
Sheepers, the Gispert Memorial Hash is February 6th. And Cubbies, the next Bear Creek is February 27th. Hey, PP, thanks for all the time you're putting into your new hash. It's noticed and appreciated. And thanks to everyone for cumming out. Beer was drunk, rumors were spread and a good time was had by all.
Until next time,
May the Hash Go in Peace
May the Hash Get a Piece
The Trash is the Scribe's Best Friend
Black Sheep Hash #376
Bear Creek Hash #5
Hares: 1 hungover Momma Bear and 1 hungover Poppa Bear
Pack: XXX Cajun Cubs
Every hash trash should have a theme. You know, something to tie everything together in a happy little package. (He said package.) This week's theme should be obvious, considering the two hares were in the middle of their cajun-slash-birthday weekend. But my God, it was cold. I'll try to avoid whining about the sub-40 degree temp and concentrate on what was another great Sunday Sunday Sunday.
It was past 1:30, and we of The Faithful Flock were gathering at a prime shiggified area near the corner of Fulton Industrial and Cambellton Road in south Fulton County. This was a joint hash, with Bwana and Company sharing the joy with Pussy_Pilot, the all-in-one mismanagement team of Bear Creek. The sun was out, but it wasn't doing much good in the warmth department. The first thing I noticed when I pulled up along Cochran Road was that people were shivering. Just as I was wondering whether I should feel guilty for being a backsliding BlackSheeper, I saw L&F fly by with his latest offering: a shiny rainbow spandex miniskirt with a matching tube top. OK, that answers my question: there's no shame at the hash.
Our overachieving hares for the day were Little Easy and Gasshole, who had just been the Hares of Record for Pinelake the day before. They had also been the Hosts of Record for what has been a quality ATL tradition: Easy's Cajun Food Festival. So would all that food and booze slow them down? We would see shortly. PP had us all kneel down before the flour-laden duo, and they were away.
Five minutes later, the pack scampered off down Cochran (he said Coch) Road, where we were immediately greeted by our first check along a power cut. I didn't realize this until later, but there were a ton of hills on this trail. The first one was right near the check, and had a huge, buzzing power line tower sitting on top of it. As some of us dashed up looking for flour, I glanced way down the opposite side of the hill and noticed a small black speck in the distance. That would have been Surly Temple doing his first bit of boxing for the day.
Dollops of flour led us to a huge clear-cut and bulldozed area, where the Evil Developers were building a colony for more intruding humans. All that was rising up through the dirt was some curbs, minus even the sidewalks. We found a check here in the middle of this Georgia-clay desert, which meant we were going to have to do a little extra hunting for the next mark. Minutes later, we ran into another check at the top of another hill, which looked down over an entire valley of opportunities. The pack sprinted down and fanned out, some checking roads leading to nowhere, others combing large areas of grass and dirt. I took the middle of the valley, where a smaller, but still impressive hill awaited me. I rushed up and got an amazing 200+ degree view of hounds everywhere, combing the vast expanse for signs of flour. From here, trail led into the tree line on the other side of the valley. Right before we dove into the forest, we came across Burnt Rubber and Surly Temple's initials scratched in the clay, telling us of a snare.
The rest of trail went very quickly, with lots of forest, but without too many briars or Easy's patented patches of hamsterland. At one point, some of us came flying down a hill to find 2 Crabs and TLS standing on an access road, basking in the glow of another snare. As far as my half-mind can remember, this snare came right before or after our jaunt past a huge water treatment plant that had millions of dollars of equipment sitting on... yup... more Georgia clay. Hell no, they couldn't be bothered to lay down assfault.
The last third of trail contained two big creek crossings. We got over the biggest one with the help of a huge drainage pipe. For the other one, most of us were able to leap to a point halfway up the bank on the other side, and climb our way up to the top. Because of that, we hit the On In with our feet dry. (Translation: relatively warm.) Not only that, we were greeted to large pots of hot food, hot spiked cider and other culinary delights. We stuffed our faces and guzzled our brew with the Chattahoochee River flowing next to us.
Pussy Pilot tore us away from the fire and circled us up for a series of soon-to-be (in)famous Bear Creek down-downs, consisting of Beast Light spiked with Malt Liquor.
I heard two Tales of the Trail when we got in. One was that Gasshole got lost somehow, and ended up coming in toward the back of the pack as a hound. Another involved Sani, Yuron, Donny, Red Breast, Yassir and Bwana having to make a huge detour near the water treatment plant because they were trying to avoid some really cranky guy with big equipment. No, not the equipment in his pants, equipment that had motors. Imagine the group's surprise when they ran into the chivalrous pair of Bunny and Davey, who had waited for them about 30 minutes to make sure they got back to flour. Awwwwww, that's sweet.
Also overheard at the On In: 1. (near the fire) "The best is having a hot ass." (And not near the fire) 2. "Only my boobs are cold." and 3. "If I had any more shrinkage, I'd have an inny."
Notable mentions include Out-of-Towners Goldilocks and TLS, Maconites Cheaper and Floppy Dick, and two new faces, Puta Cockinit and Slip 'n Side.
Sheepers, the Gispert Memorial Hash is February 6th. And Cubbies, the next Bear Creek is February 27th. Hey, PP, thanks for all the time you're putting into your new hash. It's noticed and appreciated. And thanks to everyone for cumming out. Beer was drunk, rumors were spread and a good time was had by all.
Until next time,
May the Hash Go in Peace
May the Hash Get a Piece
# posted by L&F @ 6:23 PM 
