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"Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted."



half-mind.com
"Cool hash page"
December 2002

Halve Mein Hash 498 2015 Bash – August 15th, 2015 - Guilderland, NY

What: Run #498 2015 BASH
Where: Side Door Cafe
Who: Dirtbag, Edgewhiner, Willy Wanker, Moans Aloan, Just James, Visitors: Big Piles, Hu Phlung Pu
Hare: Dirtbag

The tale of the HMHHH Bash of 2015. For those interested in statistics we had:
1 Hare
6 Hounds (including 1 Harriett & 2 Visitors)
4 Helmets (safety third!)
13 Properly inflated tires
1 Walker
1 Pair of super sexy bike shorts
2 Almost reported tornado sightings
3 Very Hash worthy off road trails ignored by the Hare
0 Car/bike interactions (how dull!)

Our trail began at a restaurant that was reportedly in the basement of a hotel, however the smell betrayed the truth that the upstairs was really a nursing home whose patients don't get out much. DirtBag reminded the pack what a "Whichy Way" looked like right from the start on our Cajun trail (OK - this did confuse us for just a minute). Soon we were well on our way twisting through quiet neighborhoods and trying to count (it took a few tries) how many of us there were because we were trying desperately to be responsible, likely a result of not enough beer at the start.

The weather was warm (87 degrees and humid) and sunny although we could hear some loud rumbling in the directions of clouds we hoped would shade us sooner rather than later. Thankfully we were able to ride down wet streets to cool our backs off with rooster tails of spray as the clouds we could see moving around us not getting us wet were actually ahead of us and cleaning the streets with localized downpours. Thankfully some of the marks left by the Hare turned to paste rather than washing completely away and we regrouped about 2 miles into the trail as the crow flies. The small but dedicated pack gathered around Willy Wanker, clad in very fashionable & functional bike shorts, whose loaner bike's rear tire looked like a defective condom. We stopped counting when the holes numbered more than the pack members. Soon we said goodbyes to Willy as we peddled on leaving him to walk trail carrying his bike in his fancy bike shorts.



Although it seemed that Moans and Hu Phlung Pu would be spending more time with Willy than the rest of the pack, we caught up when the over achievers made a wrong turn and kept going without marks.

Our reduced pack once again was forced to ride up and down several hills trying to find flour that was now clouding the water in the storm drains. Thankfully the streets were dry now, the rain water having evaporated almost instantly on the sun soaked pavement.

And we rode, up this hill, through that intersection, around this corner, up another hill. Big Piles and Moans discussed bike tires, tales of baby eagles, lack of beer, lack of a water bottle holder on Moans' new bike, lack of a water bottle in the holder attached to Big Piles bike until we reached an intersection where Edgewhiner, Just James and Hu Phlung Pu were scouting for imaginary flour marks. Moans looked ahead, then right, then left and out of nowhere Dirt Bag was approaching at Tour De France speeds, he had also gotten lost on his trail! Piles said "How cum you didn't tag the Hare!? but Moans didn't want to get her finger ripped off. We gave up looking for marks immediately and followed the Hare to a familiar little drinking hole. Dirt Bag had already recruited an unsuspecting female to entertain us and we alerted him that he needed to go find Willy who by now was likely passed out from heat exhaustion and lack of blood flow thanks to his compression shorts thereby reducing the number of hashers trying to be entertained by our new friend from Arizona. We drank a round of beer, considered getting back on trail, debated the heat and our levels of dehydration and then stayed for another round because Dirt Bag had left enough money to cover such!

Upon finally dragging ourselves out of the dark cool place of beverages, Hu Phlung Pu showed us his latest technology gadget that promised if he rode in a completely straight line over any obstacles in the way he would be back at the start in 1.6 miles. Not being from around here he did not know that there were several overpasses he would need wings to cross, but he did not want to travel another 10 miles without more beer. The rest of us are gluttons for punishment so our dwindling pack of 4 set out in search of flour that now was not even touched up by the Hare after the rain as he was off saving Willy from certain danger.

The second half of trail was sunny...for about three minutes. Ahead there were dark storm clouds and the wind was picking up gusting this way and that. We crossed a large open field making us the tallest objects around while lightning and thunder boomed all around which was nice because you could look up and really see the show, white bolts against blue black clouds - just like on the weather channel when they have those friendly alerts to take cover. Then trail scooted through some woods and path trails giving us a dose of bike shiggy. No one had reminded us to bring cranium lights which could have been helpful under the tree canopy where it was as dark as night with the black storm clouds above. We peddled faster and emerged just down the street from the start. We gently set our bikes against the racks on the cars and ran like racists towards the door only getting about half way there before the heavens unleashed a driving rain. Some of us were more protected than others from the pelting of speeding rain drops because we were still wearing our helmets like kids competing in the Special Olympics. Safely inside and reunited with the other half of the pack we drank, circled, ate and drank, happy to celebrate our surviving the Bash with Big Piles in one piece, Willy saved from perilous danger, Hu Phlung Pu's crafty use of technology, Just James's lack of name worthy actions, Edgewhiner's ability to order a beverage other than beer, Moan's actually making it to a hash before circle for the first time since NURD and DirtBag not losing any Hashers on his trail!

Ridiculously,
- Moans Aloan

If you have anything to add, send a note to pf@hmhhh.com.


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