Lots of hashers from SOH4, Flour City, and Halve Mein went to the pre-pre-pre-lube at Nail Creek Brewery and Pub. Even more went to the pre-pre-lube brewery tour of the FX Matt (aka Saranac) Brewery (those poor muggles who were with this group). Some did not, and waited patiently at the pre-lube for the hour delay before trail started while the rest of the hashers enjoyed the post-tour tavern experience.

And then we were off from 69 steakhouse. Within two seconds Tofu somehow managed to go on neither the runners nor walkers trail. Whereabouts remain unknown (seriously anyone seen him?). Through the woods, behind a church, under the thruway, and through the streets of Whitesboro to a beer near in a cemetary on a hill for tomato pie and Utica Club (of course).

From there it was off through the mean streets of Whitesboro and through the shiggy thicket behind the American Legion. After surviving the train tracks and some wooded areas, a minor water crossing occurred. A Just decided to try to act like tigger, climb a tree to the top, have it bend across the water, and drop him safely across. Instead he fell fully into the water and was soaked.

After playing with rusty cars at , evidently, a tetanus picture check, we were onto second beer near at Erie Canal trail parking lot. Utica favorites Saranac and half-moon cookies were consumed and singing ensued… but it was getting awfully dark out. Trail continued down the Erie Canal walking trail towards Lock 20, which hashers crossed and then peed at the protest pee check. Hashers continued on back to closing circle location. Well most did who followed flour… as it was an A to A’, some went back to start. Trust your flour!

Notably, in circle, Halve Mein sang for approximately forever when called into circle. After at 69 steakhouse where they wisely gave us our own room. It was observed that Just Andy looks an awfully lot like Jake Gyllenthal… minor debauchery ensued and then everyone griped about having to drive so far back to Syracuse. UC and OTD do it every week wankers… now you know how much we like you. And beer.

Respectfully submitted,
One Trick Dick and Utica Chub

Wet, White, and Blue!

About twenty half-minds gathered behind the Alvord House in Marcellus—aka Marsyphilis, for a celebration of Veteran’s Day. There was an assortment of red, white, and blue including socks, scarves, hats, beads, and one (verified) blue—well maybe turquoise, undergarment…and flags galore. But Deflower City was by far the most festive in a head to toe ensemble that earned him the name of Captain America for the day.

The gang circled up and interestingly enough the Veteran’s Day Hash had no virgins, just Veteran Hashers, including some real Veterans. Bill2 and Captain Cock Cuntroller were the hares and informed us all symbols would be pretty straight forward, including Turkey & Eagle. More on that later! We had been previously informed that it would be a wet trail and to bring a change of clothes and a towel. How bad could it be? Hashers would soon find out.

Circle was kept short due to the cold and so we were off, not surprisingly through a cemetery. At the first check the hashers managed to behave themselves in front of some small children with balloons, but that would be the end of the restraint and good behavior for the day. The gang crossed Main Street Marsyphilis again and ran through the yard of a heavy equipment business, complete with back-ho’s! Hashers also ran through a muddy graveyard of sorts, for old equipment and parts, and eventually ended up at the first Beer Near at a storage area for culvert pipes.

One can imagine that this group can amuse themselves with long, cylindrical tubes. Just Andy practiced his Oregonian log rolling techniques and then enhanced the fun by trying to roll over a pumpkin. After a few tries and some teachable moments, he succeeded to crack the pumpkin. There was some discussion on whether the trail should go through the tubes, and this gave the half-minds the brilliant idea to get inside the tubes for a photo opportunity.

Once all members were successfully extracted from the holes, the hashers were off again. Route 175 was the scene of another weekly game of Frogger and all half-minds made it across, then up the side of a hill to the shot check. Fireball was passed around, and true to its name had the pleasantly spicy taste of the Atomic Fireball candy. Another photo by the “Youth Recreation Area” sign (possibly proclaiming “No Alcohol Allowed”) and the crew was heading off through the woods and down the hillside.

Again with another successful game of Frogger on Route 175, the half-minds passed through some minor shiggy and then it got serious. The group found themselves at the bank of a creek. Indeed, hashers had been warned about getting wet, but I don’t think this is what had been imagined. The only option was to go through. The water was frigid and fast moving. Puddle Humper got a lift across, and Just Matt carried Just Lia only to decide she needed to get wet and put her in anyway. The water was deep for some vertically challenged members, but everyone made it across.

A brawl broke out on the other side with Just Lia taking Just Matt down. After watching those two roll around in the wet grass for a bit, the hashers moved on and arrived at the next Beer Near in Marsyphilis Park. The group was now pretty fired up, perhaps from being cold and wet, so when Chunks and Dunks put a floatation seat across his chest it was decided that it made a good target to punch and people started taking shots.

The group was now getting anxious to get moving and back to somewhere warm and dry. The trail very quickly arrived at a Turkey/Eagle junction. Turkey was once again crossing the creek and Eagle went along side. Most hashers decided to brave the cold, fast moving current and found the water to be much deeper. Once on the “Crooked Creek Trail,” the Turkey crew saw that the satisfaction of the Eagle crew was short lived—they had arrived at another T/E: Turkey through the water or Eagle into poison ivy.

While the poison ivy was likely past its peak, most crossed the creek and joined the group—though a few less adventurous souls did not. The joke was on everyone who had crossed as the trail arrived at yet another crossing, deeper than the last. Hares and some hounds helped assure everyone made it down the muddy banks and was safely across. Church bells chimed as the crew arrived in the village of Marsyphilis for the On-In.

There were many accusations in circle. While normally being wet is a good thing, wet and cold was not, so the hares were given appropriate down-downs for the wet, shitty trail. The Veterans were honored for their service. Cheers to our hashers who served our country (and maybe some cuntries too!) and helped us stay free to continue our debauchery. Many other accusations were doled out with down-downs given.

Just Andy also brought a special friend to circle—his pumpkin Horatio, rescued from diving into Crooked Creek. He told us a sad tale, but Horatio’s story got even sadder. Apparently some dogs love to eat pumpkins, and actually become crazed when confronted with a big orange globe. The biggest entertainment was Puddle Humper turning into Pumpkin Humper and have his way with Horatio. It did not end well for Horatio. Finally the cold was too great so the half-minds concluded circle and went to the Alvord House for the On-After.

The jovial group overtook a dining room in the fine establishment and soon found out that the food service would stop in about fifteen minutes at 5:00 PM (on a Saturday night during an SU game?????) and the beer choices were pretty crappy (If we wanted crappy beer, we could have sat outside in the cold and finished the hash beer!). Who chose this place?

Conversation of food led to one of the Just Bills to compare a hot dog to a Slimy Rubber Cock. Hmmm, someone might just have a new name. And so the hash said it was so and Just Bill became Slimy Rubber Cock. With the kitchen closed at the Alvord House and all of the crappy beer gone, the remaining half-minds headed over to the Village Tavern for more beer, food, and revelry.

Happy Veterans Day, wankers!

Respectfully Submitted,
Just Luci

Hashers eagerly waited all week to find out the location of SOH4’s Hash #50. Finally it was announced that Floppy Dicks had graciously offered use of his property for the merriment and pleasure of the group. Pleasantly Average, Self Cock Block, and Just Kip would be haring through the suburban splendor of the Ville of Baldwin and the event would culminate in blazing bonfire. The theme? “Get Drunk and Burn Shit,” of course.

The hashers gathered around on a chilly, wet afternoon. While the day may have been gloomy, the spirits were anything but. A little prelube helped the hashers warm up and get in the mood. As the gang circled up, Just Kip attempted to give directions on reading the floured clues, but an uncooperative bottle made most of his flour symbols unrecognizable. Was that an X or an arrow…and what the hell is PN?

Hashers were warned that it was a thorntastic trail and found that to be true right from the get go. Blood was soon flowing from hashers with unprotected limbs. After a muddy dash across a field, the hashers were soon playing Frogger on Route 370. Fortunately no hashers were squished—which would have put a damper on things—and everyone was at the first trail check. The choice? More road running or into mud and thorns.

It was obviously the latter, so off went the hashers slogging through wet grass and mud, and dodging thorns. The first Beer Near was at a pleasant clearing by water. The rain had been intermittent but the hashers didn’t care. There was BEER! After refueling it was back at it. More mud and thorns and a Private Property sign, and then a pleasant jog past the BSK Sewage Treatment Plant—ah, the fresh country air—hashers soon made their way between some houses and onto railroad tracks. A kind home owner advised us not to jump off the bridge.

There was much grumbling and complaining on the railroad tracks…slippery wood, rocks, poor footing…and damn it, where was the beer? Hashers were getting thirsty. And would anyone have to out run a train? It was a welcome relief to turn back into the woods, though the relief was short lived as Thornageddon began its assault again.

FINALLY the hashers were rewarded with a surprise Beer Near. Beer soon soothed the harried hashers and they were once again singing. Snacks were shared—including the worst popcorn ever, though the dogs didn’t mind. Back on trail and through the neighborhood, curious onlookers waved to the merry hashers—or were they shaking a fist in anger? Well, no matter, the hashers were off with visions of the On-After to motivate them.

The hashers returned to Floppy’s after one last game of Frogger on Route 370, a dash through a housing development, and snagging an “Event Parking $8” sign. The Superman truck had delivered the pallets for burning and then some brave hashers set about building the inferno. Genital Manager managed to start the fire and set himself ablaze. But no worries, no hashers were actually harmed in the making of this bonfire.

After a few false starts, a real Towering Inferno was created. Soon beer and sangria were flowing. Hashers circled up for accusations. Hares were appropriately punished for haring a thornalicious trail and all the fu#!*@g running on the rail road tracks. Two virgins were outed and there were down-downs for everyone for peeing on trail. One hasher was recognized for more than just peeing on trail, and a hasher was accused of coming late. Soon the blazing fire dwindled, which inspired a few hashers to walk on coals. Once it the fire was completely out—safety first, kids— hashers moved the party to Sammy Malone’s for more revelry and nourishment. On-On!

Respectfully submitted,
Just Luci

Nummer Eins Re hash for Oktobeeeerfest 2013!!!!! Syracuse-onondaga-Hash Hause Harriers and Harriettes (please read to yourself outloud in a German accent, it sounds funner)

At 169pm a group of hashers found themselves in circle as hares Cummando Cobbler, Golden Snowball and Fleshlight introduced themselves as ‘Mein Hiers’ of a very german themed hash trail and proceeded to thoroughly yet efficiently describe how trail was to begin. Virgins were introduced, including three from Rochester all in pink. German outfits were donned, exceptional examples were Cum and Feel It (hot liederhosen mien frau!), Pocket Full of Lube(nice gnome hat), a Virgin (name? schiza!), Cummando(fantastiche!) and don’t forget those pinky’s from rochester(supa!).

The hash began with blitzkrieg speed until hashers made it to some shiggy and hills where kneevagina began having flash-backs to the zombie run where he ultimately earned his name. The first BN was reached and beer was consumed with german efficiency along with streusel and pretzels. Slip and Swallow serenaded all of us with ‘the days of the week,’ and trail was resumed. Through a cemetery and up many many hills the hashers continued, Bushy Cholera even emulated to all of us why Jesus could not go hashing at one point on a life-size cross on trail.

Up more hills the hashers trudged, only for cummando to discover his co-hiers were gone!!! Apparently they had been held back making sure a virgin(lauren) could keep up, only to bail out and head back to the on-in early. Finally the hashers made it up even more hills, only to find a shot check of Jaeger and an excellent photo-op at the Schiller and Goethe statue…But wait! In the distance Goldensnowball and Fleshlight could be seen making it over the many hills to the rest of the group! So overwhelmed with excitement (reserved German excitement that is) Cummando and Fleshlight had a very humpy reunion…meanwhile PA and PCP sang and acted out how things really go down in the pleasantly-average bedroom with the yo-ho song.

‘On-on!’ was cried out as hashers continued through the streets of Syracuse in pursuit of more beer (much as the allies must’ve done in pursuit of Beerlin, they were really just going for the beer ya know, hitler was just hiding it all in a basement or something…). Through another cemetery they trudged on, when Cummando had to take the lead and run the group away from some fleshing lights (possible funeral w/ cops or just some cops fleshing their lights in the cemetery for fun). Regardless, BN was soon discovered and PA had his work cut out for him as he did what he does best: climb shit and drink beer. In fact he climbed a tree and pulled down beer for hashers to consume while everyone learned why Hitler, Mussolini, and the Soviets are like jesus: they can’t go hashing…

Through the cemetery the hashers were off to the On-In over a fence, to Cummando’s hause. allegations and accusations were made. It should be noted that at some point on trail it was discovered that a pink-laden virgin shit himself (not kidding here-true story) on trail(if he ever returns, many names have already been discussed…), and another ‘just’(name???) ran into a street sign(don’t think it was a stop sign). Much homemade German beer was consumed and wieners, German potato salad, and saurkraut were eaten with much joy and camaraderie. To everyone’s amazement (but not surprise) 2 more bottles of jaeger materialized, as did much beer! All to be consumed in an efficient manner, requiring more to be obtained later in the night. PA’s birthday was celebrated with glee and traditional birthday songs sang while cake served. Kneevagina still had a knee-vagina but did not earn himself a knee-asshole. One Trick Dick serenaded us with his musical prowess. And a not-quite-yet virgin showed up to the on after, and with much elation the hashers took her in. On discovering that she had hairy legs and pits, it was quickly determined by several authorities(Cum and Feel It, Kneevagina, Cholera, PocketFull, among others) that if she were to take up hashing with SOH4, she is to be named ‘Hot Chewbacca’ for now on (I don’t know if we can do this, but we did, she has been pre-named…deal with it).

To describe the on-after in the most efficient-german fashion with only one word, that word would be: SHOTS!!!!!! And after that, PA got kicked in the balls, Fleshlight got reprimanded in the face for that, chicken fights were held, a drunken PCP was hoisted into a car to be returned to her hause of origin. A bottle of Jaeger was lost—then found—then broken (no names will be mentioned), and still consumed!!!! Much debauchery continued in true hash-german style well into the night….Oh yeah, and PA (+his brother) lost a lot of stuff that night too (surprise surprise!).

Respectfully submitted by your hare (Mein Hier!),
Cummando Cobbler

Nummer zwei  The SOH4 Hash #48 started off with some pre-lube at Cummando Cobbler’s house. Oktobeeeerest was the theme so there were a lot of knee socks, braids, funny hats, and even a beer wench. Hashers trickled in, grabbed a beer, and got ready for the adventure.

The gang circled up and introductions were made, virgins were outed, and then the hares: Cummando Cobbler, Golden Snowball, and Fleshlight, gave a little overview of the trail and basically confused everyone with some flour hieroglyphics in the driveway.

No worries, off to a good start. Until the bottom of the driveway. Some hounds checked straight and some went right. After a few minutes the call came out and we were headed in a loose pack to Lincoln Park. Up a muddy hillside and down a muddy hillside. The next couple of junctions were a tad confusing, but eventually the pack continued straight and ended up on Green Street and arrived at the first Beer Near.

There was much revelry and soon Slip had the masses singing a rousing ode to the days of the week. While Wednesday sounds fun, Tuesday sounds kind of horrifying. But no matter—hashers had their drink on and life was good. And off we went, only stopping for a photo op at a nice cross—and we hear that Jesus can’t hash anyway.

Soon we stood at the intersection of Lodi and Willow waiting for the call—would it be straight on nice flat Lodi Street or uphill through a cemetery? Many had the sneaking suspicion that the hares would choose the latter, and indeed the vague, floury hieroglyphics seemed to indicate that. Cutting across the diagonal of Rose Hill Cemetery the hashers made their way down Highland Street and were joined by a group of curious kids for a block or so.

At the corner of Park, the patrons of the Longhorn Saloon took in our hashing splendor while we pondered which direction, and decided that the vague flour mark might indicate heading right on Park. We were soon validated by an arrow directing us towards Schiller Park. Once in the park we met a Turkey-Eagle junction and the group split, rejoining at another X.

After some indecision and only an On-2, someone spotted a hare running by and yelled, “On-Hare!” and we were off again climbing. Soon hashers arrived at wondrous natural formations—a Boob Check. Despite the perfectly formed orbs, the ladies weren’t feeling it and went off to find trail. The fellas, slightly disappointed, lagged behind until they heard there was a shot stop.

Many partook in the robutussinesque Jägermeister being passed around while basking in the glory of the statue of Goethe and Schiller. It was also a great spot for an Oktobeeeerfest photo op with these sons of Germany. Then down the stairs and off. After a pretty short debate, the hashers headed back towards Eastwood. A detour into Woodlawn cemetery led the second Beer Near.

Drinking led to singing and soon we all learned why Jesus and Hitler cannot hash. The crowd seemed content to hang out and drink and sing but some light rain showers started and there was more beer waiting at the end. So on on went the hashers.

The next obstacle was a chain link fence which some hopped over with beer induced grace and others needed the aid of a pallet ladder and some helping hands. From there it was a straight shot down Teall to Cummando Cobbler’s street.

When the full group arrived we circled up. The hares received some down-downs for their flour hieroglyphics and virgins were introduced. When virgins were asked who made them come, most named a friend, one came alone, and Sucker Punch Her made four come and easily satisfied the most virgins for the day.

Various down downs were doled out and birthday greetings were given to Pleasantly Average and another hasher. A kilt clad fellow danced about and provided a clue to his hashing name and then circle concluded and the On-After began in earnest with more beer and German fare. Prost!

Respectfully submitted,
Virgin Just Luci

October 12th starting out like a typical October 12th for me. It was my birthday and I was wondering how I managed to live through another year, then the dreaded horror hit me: the Tweedles, assisted by Deflower City, set the day’s hash (cue dramatic music!)…

Knowing how they are, for lack of a proper term, special, thoughts of wandering aimlessly lost or sinking into the canal came to my immediate mind. Facing this uncertain future, I arrived for prelube with the other half minds in the Erie Canal parking lot.

It was quite a feat but we managed to squeeze cars into places where it was a wonder no one scratched any paint. During prelube, Tweedle Me was trying to quiz me on my age but I didn’t give into her as I was sure she would come up with a diabolical torment (at least she doesn’t have her broom anymore). After a thorough lubing for the half-minds, the Tweedles and Deflower gave their chalk talk. I was kind of relieved that this week you didn’t need to decipher hieroglyphics like at the Wiener Hash (shout out to Just Lisa and Just Pete for that insanity…).

We then went “on-out!” and saw flour and were assured that at least this week we would start on the correct trail. However, we were Tweedled (and here I thought being Tweedled would be a more pleasurable experience), led astray for quite a bit before doubling back to the original check. We then proceeded down the canal path for what appeared to be a straight run, through one check and then through a second check and then we found out we were Tweedled again, the sneaky little things they are.

Back to the check up and over some shiggy to the, what’s that, BEER NEAR! Jokes were told and best joke of the day went to Tofu for his joke about old hashers. We also were running some commentary (no pun intended, RC) for a couple of golfers and Pleasantly Average, the gent that he is, ran some beer over to them.

After finishing we went “on-out” and onto the Erie Links golf course. Following the trail and being reminded by Kickstand not to run on the greens, we ran down the side and to the bridge where we found more flour and proceeded to try and cross. The hares screamed for us to stop and return to a check we blew through. While checking we saw the trail would force us to forge across Butternut Creek. Without delay, half-minds took the plunge. We all made it across safely (including Puddle Humper (thanks to the hasher I don’t remember for saving him) and the rest of the canine contingent). It was here we rewarded with a sweet treat consisting of caramel apple vodka shots and apple cider. Usually I only take a small amount but hey, you only live once and it was one of the best things we ever had on trail.

After the shots we proceeded up the shaggy (and shiggy) slope and ran the canal side a little more until we were led by the hares to a special check area for chocolate treats. The streamside of Butternut Creek was inviting and besides, I can’t have chocolate so I thought I would just wade a little.

“How deep is it?” Slip called out to me. My reply was “It’s about 2-3 ffeee…..splash!” as I back stepped off a rock and into a 6-8 feet deep pool of 40 degree water. The rest of the half minds seemed to delight in finding a perfect swimming hole and many jumped into the frigid water. Pleasantly Average did a back flip which prompted Slip to tell everyone not to do that (he had cleared the rocks by a foot or two, so no blood no foul!) but it was when Tofu jumped in we all held our breath fearing something would happen (I sure hope I can do stuff like that if I live that long). Slip finally gave into temptation and ran in too. While most hashers were in and out, Tweedle Me and Brownie seemed to delight in the frigid climate, spending the entire Candy Check there. After a while, Tweedle Me led the hashers in “Happy Birthday, Fuck You” and to add to my special day people passing in golf carts wished me a happy birthday which I don’t know if I should be embarrassed that we could be heard on the links or proud that hey, we stand out and make an impression.

Alas, the day was getting on and we needed to make the next beer near. After a straight run down the path, several adventurous hashers decided what is better than walking over the creek on an aqueduct which is narrow and crumbling? We ended up running across a swampy area and a creek which would make the swimming in Onondaga Lake look and smell cleaner. We forced ourselves through this and through thorn bushes but hey, what’s better than running through sewage smelling water AND getting puncture wounds?

We hit the second beer now and by this time we were all in agreement that while the course has been amusing and well thought out we really needed to find a creek to kill the smell. On-out from here led us into the Erie Village residential area and flour turned into colored chalk. We even came across a drawing of a dog which according to agreement of the group looked like a rainbow was coming out of its ass. My guess is the Tweedles took the Art Institute course offered in magazines.

We then proceeded through the road way and back onto the golf course, while running by signs stating “No Trespassing – Violators will be prosecuted” and onto the bridge we were at earlier in the hash. Up a small hill and by the road was another shot check. Someone passed around diarrhea, um, I mean a mixture of pumpkin pie mix and rum. To sum up the taste, one hasher said the taste combined dirt and fireballs and another said “That was ……. Awful”.

Undauntedly we were in the home stretch and running on roadway when PCP and I decided to walk and talk about mead brewing and wine vinting. Seeing us walking, Kickstand and others literally pushed me to run the last bit; I guess they have no sympathy for an old person.
We ended up at circle and more beer plus tequila shots from my never ending bottle. At this point, we realized that somewhere along the way, we’d lost Tofu. Nobody could remember seeing him since the second BN. Fearing we finally managed to kill a member, a search party of hares was dispatched, contact information was exchanged, and most of us just drank in anticipation.

Lo! Here come Tofu! He had made a pitstop to visit with his daughter and hadn’t considered the hash would be so concerned. Grateful for our though unnecessary worry, he did a down-down with a full can of beer and dumped most of the contents on his head. I guess old hashers don’t die, they just make you think they did and come back to drink about it.

Accusations were made and down-downs giving. We noticed that one virgin had been lost but he left a nice little note saying he enjoyed his time. The remaining virgin, Just Brian, was accosted and, loving the day, said he will be back anyway.

Next came me being forced to divulge my age. PA was trying to make me do an up-up but Kicky, thank a higher power, said no because 46 isn’t divisible by 5 or 11. I was forced to do a side-side and after everyone contributed multiple beers to the mug, I was forced to drink while several people got hernias lifting my fat ass off the ground. Why do frat boys make it look so easy? I ended up choking on beer and committing alcohol abuse as some hit the ground.

We have had 2 namings and Just Adam became Bushy Cholera (names for his love of Hot Bush and Cholera) and Just Chris became Snidely Whipass (because he looks like Snidely Whiplash and the bastard made us run the train tracks for miles!)

We then left to the on after at Trapper’s II. At Trappers, we feasted on 50 cent wings, cheap beer and other items while watching the SU game. After the game someone scored a volleyball and we proceeded to drink and play. Score was, well, nonexistent but we did manage a few good volleys.

Kneegina showed the reason why Frankenstein’s monster never played volleyball by ripping open his stiches from the ZombieHash. Nurse took care of him while we played around him and it was at that point we decided we needed more beer and less balls.

After drinking some more, Tweedle Me and Bushy decided that birthday cake was in order and went into the private party room and acquired some cake. This said cake ended up smeared on everyone and Tweedle and Bushy tried to grab more. A nice, BIG gentleman kindly asked them to remove themselves from the area and we decided it was time to head out.

All in all, it was a great trail, lots of fun, and one of the best birthdays ever.

Respecfully submitted,
Same Job, Different Orifice

Just Peter and I [Still Just Lisa] set trail for our first time by ourselves, Kicky our “lead” Hare being busy at a R*cist event, and so we had a drink or two along the way and made shit up as we went along. Hey it would be fun…. Then it POURED absolutely POURING RAIN!!! and we hoped our marks wouldn’t be washed away. Then we got changed, I in my wiener dog costume (provided by Just Peter, thank you very much!), Just Peter in…. well… nothing…. He held a picture of Anthony Weiner up in front of his face a called it good…. this was perfect! (see pic from CAFI)

Hasher’s showed up to the deteriorating, boarded up, roadside motel hidden behind other buildings and trees, and in the fog, with clear evidence of their earlier colorful r*cist activity…. and the drinking continued as by then we’d all already been drinking (Texting from Kicky let us know there was an on-after from said earlier r*cist event). Chalk talk was, well hysterical, as Just Peter filled the circle with all the marks we set and shit we made up along the way (see pic from CAFI). Legal Disclaimer and we’re off….. in the right direction for about 100 yards……. and then began what resulted a mostly ‘on-hare’ run for me, as Just Peter sprained his ankle in the first 10 minutes, and the Effing! marks were hardly visible………there was shiggy, there was mud, there were false trails, there was a ‘J’ that Magical Dick Slit brought to the DFL, not sure who that was….. The first beer near was in a tranquil meditative place by a stream, where we did nothing tranquil or meditative. Then off again… more false checking…. more false trails…. and into the Stone Quarry Art Park via the back door trail….. A shot check that could have also been a song check… who set these marks anyway…. and off again into the main area of the art park, which when Capt. Cock Controller saw it he said with amazement “what is this place?” We sang Hash songs at Earths Ear sculpture…. we climbed shit we shouldn’t have…. we crawled in things just cuz we could…. there was a new made up thing called a “shout-out” soon followed by many ass-cracks displayed. Another beer near…. and yup Just Peter still hobbling along with his sprained ankle… and oh, was Kneegina with him?… but not yet Kneegina (that came later in circle)……..more running on-hare style…. I made sure we didn’t miss the package check…. more running… more fog…. we all threw rotten apples at somebody, was that PO?… we ran some more… we stopped for a picture check over looking beautiful rolling…. well, fog, not the gorgeous hills we were hoping for….anyway…..more running, now downhill on a trail booby trapped with apples just to keep people on their toes and paying attention…… Then the best thing of all… the WEINER CHECK…. sitting out in the middle of a field were a couple of my gullible girlfriends, mustard and ketcup (see pic from CAFI) minding our wieners….. and wieners were enjoyed by all…….. yippee!….. Then back to more on-hare running……..another “J”, which Magical Dick Slit found again…. then a Turkey/Eagle choice and we lost half the group…. cornfields…. boob-checks….and I called on-in, through the shiggiest shiggy field at the end.

Circle was accusations, and namings of Kneegina, Rectal Retriever, and Self Cock Block, Just Peter and I were tabled for naming……. On-after was at the bowling ally, where some other woman tried to impress us with a bunch of raunchy debauchery songs…. ours are better.

SJL

For our final Monday hash of the year, we met at a parking lot next to an ice cream place across from Shifty’s. Several of us prelubed at Shifty’s or the ice cream place, many had to move our cars to avoid being towed. Half of the kennel or so were out in full zombie makeup and outfits. We had a Zombie Jesus, a Zombie Bride, and other assorted bloody clothing, makeup and costume awesomeness. Lots of pictures taken with tech on trail.

Hares Pink Taco, Just Alex (in full Zombie Jesus mode), and Honey Boo Boo gave us chalk talk and informed us that there would be splits for zombie trails and human trails. And then we were on out to scare the locals.

After a run through neighborhoods where we, um, saw a picture of Just Leslie (and full nerd name!) on a sign, we stumbled our way to a shot check. Zombie Jesus turned water into Irish alcohol. Naturally we sang Jesus can’t go hashing while we downed that and then we were off again.

After running through about 100 feet of shiggy and multiple golf course holes, we arrived at first BN. Thereafter, zombies frequently went one way and humans went another before combining again, and an impromptu picture check broke out for the humans atop a hill overlooking Syracuse.

And at some point going down a hill and/or steps, human Just Al hash crashed to the extent that his leg required medical attention in the ER. Assistance was provided and he posted updates on his condition and pictures to meetup through the evening.

Zombies and humans met up again at the second BN. Zombies, not having hash crashes or picture check, were there way ahead of the humans and had many water balloons to throw. Also, zombies evidently attract mosquitos as there were swarms to distract us from drinking, singing, and waiting for everyone to catch up. As it began to get dark, we were on-out for more pavement running back to the starting location of trail.

As for circle, down-downs were given for various offenses. Lots of virgins, dogs, headgear, race attire, and even racing attire in headgear. In what may be a Syracuse first, Pink Taco also had a hash crash in circle (!) and wiped out completely, later reporting on meetup that she was extremely bruised. In other excitement, it was confirmed that Just Missy Z and Just Mike have publicly made Syracuse their home hash! Though it may always have been.

As for namings, Just Alex was named Calvin Christ for a combo Zombie Jesus and our learning about the half marathon he ran in just his underwear; Just Nick was named Ass Wide Shut in honor of his prior, revoked name from the Daytona Hash of Ass Wide Open and his love of movies; and Just Krystle was named Utica Chub in honor of her Utica road whoring status and love of Utica Club beer. Congrats wankers!

For the after we invaded Shifty’s and further scared the locals. Debauchery with arrows, drink specials lined up by Taco, and general amazingness that makes SOH4 Monday’s what they are ensued. Ya kind of had to be there, and a lot of us were… in fact, several hashers showed up just for the after in their muggle attire. Down downs for that next time…

Respectfully submitted,
One Trick Dick

Still recovering from Saturday’s Red Dress Run, many of us met at Sharkey’s in Liverpool on an afternoon that felt like fall. Aka cold and damp. Pre-lube in Sharkey’s parking lot involved several of us helping them collect empty beer cans to recycle… we were encouraged by Sharkey’s management to warm up inside afterwards rather than helping them with their littering issue. No good deed goes unpunished.

Hares Chunks and Dunks and Just Nick told the kennel to avoid getting froggered on four lane highway while trying to find their poorly marked trail. Safety third, Gispert’s helmet of honor will protect us!

On out from there was, in fact, across said four lane highway. Wandering through a neighborhood. Inconveniently, a non hasher had put down an arrow indicating that trail would run through someones back yard… so many of us did into the woods behind their house, before finding out that we were not actually on trail.

First BN was near a playground after hashing past some baseball fields. A couple of hashers successfully climbed rickety playground equipment, someone somewhere has pictures. At this BN, kennel discussed several odd situations that happened when various members worked at a dept store at Chicago.

After that there was in fact a stream crossing at some point but be not concerned, Chunks crossed successfully (neither chunking, nor dunking). Speaking of hazards, we may need a broom intervention for Tweedle. SOH4 ain’t Hogwarts.

Second BN was throwing distance from the on-in. Additional discussion of various bears in the woods ensued, followed by a brief discussion of theological viewpoints of why certain historical figures would not, or could not, go hashing.

Said discussion was cut short as we headed on in for circle, which was across the street from Sharkey’s. At this point it was dark and about 40 degrees so many got changed, blankets, etc. And then we waited for the hare and the additional beer (cause they didn’t have cups). And waited. And waited (again, last BN was about a 2 min run away!). So we covered many other reasons Jesus could not go hashing while we waited. And waited… until Chunks finally arrived.

Finally circle began. Cuse welcomed back Tofu from the previous hash incarnation, and down downs were assigned as were namings. Just Tim is now Same Job, Different Orifice; Just Bob is Deflower City (y’all can spell these how ya want). Be sure to congratulate them and ask them why. A couple others were almost named but tabled due to pending frostbite.

On after was at Sharkey’s were they wisely gave us the entire back room to keep us away from their regulars and the volleyball players. Additional debauchery ensued including beer boarding and other interesting stories to tell the grandkids one day.

On a side note, if we ever find out what is in Just Nick’s backpack, think we’ll have a name for him!

Respectfully submitted,
One Trick Dick

At the Inaugural Syracuse On-on-dog-a Hash House Harriers and Harriettes Red Dress Run, we are pleased to announce that we raised $1,850 for Syracuse’s Vera House! Thank you to all who came out and supported us and let’s do it again next year!

***

It was a beautiful day for a run. Grey skies promising impending doom. And the hashers began to gather. One by one, red dresses started to fill the bar until there was nothing as far as the eye could see but a sea of red sparkles, feathers and chiffon. And that was just the guys.

Sign-in was chaos as everyone collected their mardi gras beads from me and raffle tickets from Tits McSmart for the days’ festivities. There were even six virgins who chose this as their premier run. Fools we all thought, we’ll never see them again. Food flowed freely, with shrimp cocktail, cheese doodles and lots of candy for everyone.

As we gathered for circle, we were all reminded of why we were there. To help Vera House, a very worthy organization who helps women and children in distress. And also to drink. So we toasted. And then we toasted. And then we toasted again. Before this run, our beloved Kickstand gave out necklaces to some of our newly named hashers. It was about fifteen minutes before we began running. And it started to rain.

We finished chalk talk, and the guys tied up the trains of their ball gowns and we poured out of Holmes Pub (which, by the way, is no longer Holmes Pub, it’s the Penny). Pink Penalty stepped out the door and opened his lovely floral umbrella. Hashers went left, and hashers went right until true trail was found. The first leg of the trail led us around the longest block in Syracuse, and, when we were done, we were less than 200 feet from door of the pub we just left. Resisting the urge to get in out of the rain, we pressed on.

Our first stop was an unplanned shot stop. Some fool gave the Tweedles the prize for the trivia contest planned for the first beer near (a bottle of gummy flavored vodka. Yes, you read that right. Gummy. Flavored. Vodka.), and somehow, and no one knows how (we’re all looking at you Tweedle Me), the bottle got opened! Not being a particular fan of the gummy candy varieties, I passed on this delicacy, but fear not, the bottle was nearly gone before we all moved on. And then it began to rain a little harder.

Thanks to the crafty hares, Floppy, Ass Over Venus and Just Sue, true trail remained elusive. Whether it was the rain, the impossible to find duct tape markings or the fact that one of the hares may have been toasting a little too much before setting trail (Floppy?), we all ran more than one false trail. Never the mind though, because everywhere we ran, we were greeted by cheers and honking car horns as we raced through the city. It was along this point that I learned an interesting fact. For whatever reason, Ass over Venus prefers that when her name is shortened, it be Venus, not Ass. Go figure…

We arrived at the first beer near, and it was the classiest beer near we have ever been at. Crackers and dip were passed around on trays, the finest of confections were laid out on cookie platters, and rye dip with meat was clearly labeled for our vegetarian hashers. And the beer flowed, bottles and cans. As we gathered in teams, P.O., looking particularly fetching in his red flapper dress, passed out the trivia questions to each team. While we all might have a competitive nature to us, when it comes to trivia, we proved that we all suck. One team proudly boasted sucking the worst, and it was the Green team who took home that prize. We downed our beers and headed for the door. As we did, it began to rain harder.

We ran to our picture stop, the fountain at Clinton Square. In true hasher fashion, nearly everyone ran into the water and over to the fountain. Being that were all wet anyway, it certainly seemed the thing to do. A few brave souls including Cum and Feel It dared to stay out of the water so that there would actually be someone to take the pictures. Lots of photos were taken, memories immortalized forever in digital.

Between the rain and the fountain, everyone left the picture stop soaked and Slip was so wet that she was particularly slippery. As we ran past the blue horse by Key Bank, she decided to go for a ride. She was given a leg up to mount the horse, but the boost was so strong that she got her leg over the top of the beast and slipped off the other side! Pocket Full of Lube thankfully kept his lube in his pocket, and gave her a more gentle boost so she could go for a quick pony ride. Pictures were taken and she quickly dismounted before the police were called.

We arrived at the second beer near where we drank more beer, ate more food, heard some particularly bad jokes and were regaled with songs like “I used to work in Chicago” and “Today is Monday,” before heading back to on-after. It was the end of the hash, and, not surprisingly, the rain stopped…

On-after was a party to end all parties. Towels were handed out, people began to change, and everyone saw far more of Pleasantly Average then they ever expected to see… Golden Snowball took the lead, passing around refill after refill of pitchers of beer. Tweedle Me made a lovely concoction of beer, the remaining gummy vodka and various candies, made even the more tasty by putting her hand into the pitcher to retrieve the bits of saturated candy. After eating, we all gathered for our final circle. We drank to our hares, we had countless accusations and down-downs, and after Morning Glory Hole arrived to be with Shark Week, his much better half, we discovered that he didn’t hash with us because he refused to put on a red dress. It was at that point that he was stripped down to his shorts, put in a red dress, and brought to the center of circle for a much deserved down-down.

As the party went into the night, I turned to one of the virgins and asked, “Will we ever see you again?” She said, “Are you kidding? I’ve finally found my home!”

On-Another Piece of History-On,
Tough Knees

Needed!!