People just don’t wear hats like they used to. Not like the good old days, when men wore girdles and high heels, and women had built-in murder weapons to pin massive fancy hats on top of their massive fancy hairdos. Admit it, you’ve dreamed of whipping out a six-inch hat pin, tossing your hat aside, shaking your hair loose in that super-sexy way you do, and lunging at your lover caught in flagrante. While ChooChoo H3 may not be keen to indulge that fantasy, they’re definitely keen to wear hats. Therefore, they announced a Mad Hatter hash for May, where hats are REQUIRED!

Thirteen hatted hounds gathered in fair Hill City, the moratorium on Stringer’s Ridge officially lifted by this month’s hare, Patsy. This was the first time he had laid a trail as lead hare. He had assured the pack he had no need for a cohare. The hounds suspected they would end up three states away given Patsy’s sense of direction, and they came prepared with an abundance of tasty beverages. So much BEER flowing from all directions – Ghost Rider with good BEER, Cum Analyst with shitty BEER, and Patsy with a wagon of BEER! Now this is hashing.

As the pack began to drink away their impending doom, who should roll up but the surprise cohare Bone Star! The pack didn’t give a sigh of relief, however, as this was the neighborhood of Bone Star’s ill-fated trail that crossed itself five times over. The combined forces of these two could be a boon for the copy store churning out a bunch of missing person posters. It was definitely going to be a long day. The hounds grabbed another BEER and chugged it down down down.

The GM called the hounds to circle up around the hares. He started with the usual praise to BEER, but Cum Analyst kept breaking in because he was getting it all wrong. The GM likes to freestyle, Cum Analyst likes to enforce the rules, and a brawl for dominance broke out. Patsy got upset because he hates to see mom and dad fighting, so Cum Analyst shut the fuck up, and hare talk commenced.

Patsy and Bone Star showed off an array of chalk doodles. This is where you take a picture! This is where you flip each other off!  This is where you spit! But what about trail? Without trail there is no BEER! How do we find the BEER?! Oh yeah, that. Patsy threw down some sad flour marks as if trail was merely an afterthought. Another harbinger that all the hounds would end up in different places. At last, the GM gave his blessing, and Hash #69+25 was ON ON!

Ghost Rider and I’d Tap That bolted off like the hounds out of hell they are, leaving the rest of the EAGLES in the dust and the TURKEYS to mosey on behind. The trail immediately got uppity as they entered the bush. One switchback after another, steep then steeper. They soon remembered why there had been moratorium on Stringer’s Ridge, and there was very little rejoicing.

Meanwhile, back at the start, the hares prepared to cart their wagon of BEER to the BEER stop. If you’re not familiar with Stringer’s Ridge, there are multiple trailheads, including a paved path. These hares aren’t very smart, however, and only considered the trails, some easy, some hard. Bone Star preferred to take it up the hard way. Patsy will try anything once and agreed, because how bad could it be?

Pretty bad, actually. Painful, even. Tight and narrow, a little crooked, but also kinda nice. They lugged the BEER over roots and rocks to the overlook where the hounds began to trickle in. Just Rio showed up with a full cup of BEER – imagine the grace it must take to run without spilling a drop. Everyone partook of a tasty beverage and posed for pictures like fucking tourists. Soon it was time to go down on Stringer’s, and the hounds howled ON ON!

Strung-out hounds got to the bottom and found DOWN DOWN waiting with chairs and a tent and all the golden nectar a hasher could want. As everyone settled in, Patsy kept giving furtive looks and peering around corners. It didn’t take long for the hounds to figure out what was going on: Bone Star was at again, trafficking cocaine, this time with Patsy as his lookout. Not cool, Bone Star, not cool.

The GM called the hash to order. First was vote on trail, which was almost unanimously voted GOOD TRAIL! Cut It Short led the hash in a song that was not S-H-I-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L, and the hares drank it down down down.

To their credit, the hares didn’t lose a single hound on their trail, so there wasn’t much to charge them with. They did have one egregious charge – not enough BEER on trail! The EAGLES ran nearly four miles and only got one BEER stop. They didn’t care how hard the hares took it. That’s just wrong.

First in and last in stepped forward next. F’n B thought he could swoop in on his gimpy leg and claim all the BEER for himself, while Hairy Tramp Stamp, that lazy motherfucker, had kept everyone waiting. Fuck those assholes, they gotta drink it down down down.

The hash moved on to trail charges. Of particular note was the overuse of nerd names by pretty much everyone. They all stepped forward and drank it down down down. AHAB Cranky Old Bastard was charged with being HATLESS on a HATS REQUIRED hash! He didn’t give a fuck, because he wasn’t the one who had to drink. He watched with a grin as his master drank it down down down to Cut It Short’s sweet song.

Sadly, despite being a Mad Hatter hash, there was no vote on best hat. Screw it, we all know it was Cum Analyst. No reason to get the other hounds’ hopes up.

There were so many INTERRUPTUS at this hash that we almost ran out of shitty BEER. Ghost Rider, Bone Star, Cake Hole, In & Out, and Timothy Leary – none of them had an excuse worthy of skipping the hash. Remember, it’s important to cum and cum often. For their failure to do so, these wayward hounds had to drink it down down down.

A couple of VISITORS were among the hounds! Hairy Tramp Stamp and Mother Inferior of Motown A2H3 had driven all this way from fair Detroit to party into the wee hours of the morning, only to discover that Chattanooga has a 10pm bedtime. Hashing was the next best thing, so they joined ChooChoo H3 to drink away their disappointment. I’d Tap That is quite the giver and made both of them cum. Welcome, Hairy Tramp Stamp and Mother Inferior!

On this hash we had a NAMING! Just Rio, that BEER-balancing bitch, had completed her third hash. For ChooChoo H3, once the number three, being the number of the counting, a hound shall either receive their very own hash name or graduate to Shocker status. The pack closed in to pick apart her life. Most notable is that she works at the aquarium. That got the hounds wet, and Bone Star barked out Something Fishy! It was a clever one but not quite right. They asked what her favorite fish was. The proud and mighty sturgeon, of course! Seriously? What the fuck are we supposed to do with sturgeon? The pack moved on.

What about family? Turns out her mother is Canadian. With that information, it was a no-brainer that an aquatic half-Canook would enter the Beaver family; the only question was how. Cum Analyst recalled an interesting tidbit and asked quite innocently, who first made her cum? Just Rio saw where that was going. She sighed and admitted it was her dad. As Mother Inferior would remind us, it is written that thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother. Therefore, Just Rio shall henceforth be known as Daddy’s Little Beaver! Welcome, DADDY’S LITTLE BEAVER!

Enough of that shit, let’s get down down to BUSINESS:

• Monthly drinking practice is Tuesday, May 26^th, at 6pm. We’re gonna get wild at Johnny Ringo’s, 5308 Dayton Blvd, in Hixson. Dogs welcome.
• June hash is Pride Month! Gather on the 13^th for a trail hared by F’n B. All details TBD.
• The Sturgeon lover herself, Daddy’s Little Beaver, wants to hare August in honor of the Sturgeon Moon. July hash is up for grabs for any eager hares.
• More NAMINGS on deck! Just Tony and Just Mike have fully embraced the lifestyle, and Daddy’s Little Beaver is excited to name her beau, Just Gibby.

Well that was fucking exhausting. The GM finally dismissed the hash to go in peace to get a piece on their tired-ass legs. They made their way to the flat part of Northshore for a recovery drink at LeRoy’s BEER lounge, some build-your-own salad, and on-after drinking games.

First in: F’n B
Best Hat: Cum Analyst
Filled with the Holy Hash Spirit: Just Mike