Two years is a long time in hash years, 69 + 24 hash years to be exact. Or is it 25? If it’s the second ANALVERSARY of the first hash in the hashing streak, and the first one was the one before #69, and the next one was #69 because we couldn’t remember how many hashes had cum before, and Walk O’Shamy started the #69-plus thing on the one after that, then we know for sure that adds up to a number. As far as ChooChoo H3 is concerned, that number is BEER!

Ten hounds and two hares gathered for the celebration of that BEER, but also that streak, in fair Northshore where it all re-began. Hares I’d Tap That and Cum Analyst had laid a simple, straightforward trail, which was a good thing because six of those ten hounds were unnamed novices, including one VIRGIN. The GM called everyone to circle up for chalk talk. It was easy enough – flour, backchecks, BEER NEAR, and the true trail arrow. True trail arrows also came in TURKEY/EAGLE flavors where the walkers and runners would diverge. Something ChooChoo H3 does on every hash. Always. Without fail. The GM asked if there were any questions, and when none were asked he declared the hash ON ON!

The trail lay before the hounds, but unfortunately only three of them knew jack shit about following trail, and none of them were among the EAGLES. The TURKEYS departed first. Hashing novice Just Matt looked at the direction the hare was pointing and said, “Nah, Imma go this way.” The three hounds who should have known what they were doing also looked at where the hare was pointing and said, “Nah, Imma follow Just Matt.” The hares shrugged and said, “Not my fucking problem.” (Narrator: it was, in fact, their fucking problem.)

Off they ambled, and the hares packed the pre-hash gear into the car. When they turned to leave, the TURKEYS were standing at a corner only a block away, looking around like lost puppies. They paced and muttered. The confusion was palpable. Just as the hares were about to take them by the hand, one of the TURKEYS spied a true trail arrow. They turned toward the siren song of BEER and shouted ON ON, with gout-ridden F’n B lurching along behind them.

Assured that the EAGLES could at least get to that first arrow, the hares drove off to drop ice-cold supplies on trail. When they returned 10 minutes later, the EAGLES were still there, lost at the beginning of the trail, albeit on a different corner. Now, when I said there weren’t any EAGLES who knew jack shit about trail, I didn’t mean they were inexperienced hashers. The hares had assumed Patsy, over a year into hashing, would know how to follow a fucking trail. He did not. He told the hares they couldn’t find the EAGLE trail. Yes, they knew which way the TURKEYS went, and yes, they knew that there was an arrow without a letter, but where oh where was the EAGLE trail?

The hares looked at each other, having earlier commented to themselves how they had marked this trail so well and it would be so easy to follow, but some hound will always manage to fuck up the best-laid trail. Apparently, those hounds were Just Matt and Patsy. The hares once again explained the TURKEY/EAGLE concept, got the EAGLES on trail, and drove to the first BEER stop.

All was still lost, however. As the hares arrived at the BEER stop, they caught VIRGIN Just Thomas sprinting right past the bar, completely oblivious to the BEER NEAR mark. The hares took him to the bar where they joined the TURKEYS. The pack ordered a round while waiting for the rest of the EAGLES. Mid-sip, one eagle-eyed TURKEY saw them walking right past the BEER stop. The hares dashed out with curses galore to drag them inside. The pack was fully reunited, and there was much rejoicing. Hash flasher Just Kelly got busy with her camera so they would have recent photos on the hounds’ inevitable missing person posters.

When they were ready to depart, the hares noticed the VIRGIN had disappeared. Somehow, he had managed to lose trail while sitting down. The pack checked around, and he was nowhere to be found. “Fuck. This. Shit,” the hares said, and they let the pack know the hash was once again ON ON, with or without Just Thomas. They pointed everyone directly to where the next arrow was, to follow that arrow and only that arrow, and the arrow after that – both TURKEYS and EAGLES, to make absolutely 100% sure that these hounds wouldn’t end up in the cargo hold of a plane to Nova Scotia via Newark. The only hound sure to make it to the end was F’n B, whose crippled ass hopped into the passenger seat as the hares drove to hopefully meet the hounds down the road.

The next stop was only a quarter mile away, and all hounds managed to find it in a reasonable amount of time. At this stop, the hares presented the traditional EGG TOSS! Just like trail #69 minus 1 and the first ANALVERSARY, hounds paired up and took turns tossing it. F’n B and Just Tony cracked their egg on the first throw and called for a do-over. They were the last ones standing after that, so technically they were both the losers and the winners. Everyone else was covered in egg with nothing to show for it.

Trail resumed with an immediate TURKEY/EAGLE split. Thank god the hares were there to make sure everyone went the right direction. Just Tony was decent enough to let the hares know that he was switching teams, feeling like he needed to spread his wings a little more than the TURKEYS. Once they ran off into the distance, the hares and their hitchhiking hound drove to the next BEER stop.

At the first BEER stop, hare Cum Analyst had made Patsy share his location – just in case. She checked on his progress around the time they should be arriving. Of course he was going the wrong direction. GO BACK! Cum Analyst texted. YOU’RE ON THE TURKEY TRAIL! Texts and calls went unanswered. She watched his icon dance further and further away with great sadness.

The hares could do nothing other than cry into their BEER. Hope prevailed, however, as Just Tony burst through the doors! “What happened?!” the hares demanded. “Well, I’ll tell you,” said Just Tony. Music and a chorus did not accompany his tale, but it was full of adventure. “Patsy had STD and went back. I kept going.”

So despite embarking on the actual EAGLE trail, despite sharing his location, despite texts and calls and voicemails, Patsy had followed the TURKEYS on purpose with no warning. “So Just Rio and Just Gibby are right behind you?” the hares asked Just Tony. No, they went with Patsy. The hares banged their heads on the table simultaneously. Their ears rang from the impact just as Cum Analyst’s phone rang. It was the wayward hound himself, Patsy, saying that he was on his way to the BEER stop. “So you’re back on trail?” the hares asked. No, he was driving. The hares banged their heads again.

Patsy managed to find the BEER stop without additional instructions, and the hounds and hares enjoyed their tasty beverages. As they got down to their last sip, the hares asked Just Tony, the only hound remaining, what his plan was. To finish the trail, of course. The hares begged him, pleaded, “Please, let us tell you true trail. Let us meet you at the next check – we’re begging you. We have lost too many hounds. Magellan is rolling in his grave. There has been enough carnage already.” But Just Tony comes from a time long before GPS. He assured them that he would make it back just fine. With tears in her eyes, Cum Analyst said, “at least take my number so you can text if you get lost.” Out he ran, in the wrong direction. The hares pointed him back to trail and watched him go, certain that they would never see him again.

Having done all they could do, the hares returned to down down. They reunited with the TURKEYS and one of the long-lost EAGLES, Just Gibby, but apparently Just Rio also had STD and had abandoned the pack. The last of the missing hounds accounted for, the pack waited on Just Tony with great anticipation. Lo and behold, he arrived! He told tales of backchecks and mountains and mystery flour. A well-earned DFL if there ever was one.

Now that the pack was whole, the GM called everyone to circle up. For vote on trail, there were mixed reviews, but the GM – whose only experience with the trail was by car and in bars – declared GOOD TRAIL! Cut It Short led them in song as the hares drank it down down down. First in and last in were called forth. Remember, the hash is not a race, nor should any hound leave the pack waiting for BEER. Just Matt and Just Tony drank their punishment down down down.

The first trail charge was the most obvious – F’n B for auto hashing. Most of the other trail charges were levelled at Patsy, but he was not present to take them. Rest assured, he most definitely will in the near future. Next the pack decided that this time they would charge unnamed hounds because this time they really fucking deserved it. I’m not going to name names but suffice to say it had to do with multiple hounds losing the pack at multiple points on the trail. All the offenders drank it down down down to the sweet caroling of Cut It Short.

There were no INTERRUPTUS this hash, and the VIRGIN had turned his tail and fled early on. All that was left was BUSINESS:

• Drinking practice is a week from Tuesday on April 24^th at 6pm. Assume it’s at Mike’s Hole in the Wall unless otherwise specified. Trivia theme TBD.
• Next hash is MAD HATTER! It’s Kentucky Derby season, so headgear is required. Preferably fancy. Trucker hats count if you’re lame. Tentatively Saturday, May 12^th, hared by Patsy. I hope to fucking god Just Tony is on that trail to find the BEER, because the hare himself will probably get lost.
• FIVE hounds completed their second hash on this trail. That means the next time Just Tony, Just Kelly, Just Rio, Just Gibby, or Just Matt show up, they’re gonna get NAMED! Be sure to cum to the next hash to witness this sacred ceremony.

All that covered, the GM closed the circle and let everyone go in peace to get a piece. But the hash did not end there! It was Walk O’Shamy’s birthday tradition to get a margarita and a flaming shot of tequila, and the hounds were forced to participate for the ON AFTER. They settled into a cozy spot at the local cheap Mexican restaurant, which fortuitously overlooked the place where it all began again, the kennel’s rebirth, the reason for celebrating this ANALVERSARY. The evening closed with well-wishes to the birthday girl and another year of hash fulfillment.

First in: Just Matt
First lost: Just Matt
Only one with any fucking sense of direction: Just Tony