Hitting save is very important... database sync isn't working and I am lazy
|What:||Hockessin Hash #158|
|When:||Jan. 1, 1900|
|Where:||White Clay Preserve|
|Nothing here yet||Hashers|
|H4H158: Live and Let Live|
Location: White Clay Preserve
Number of Hashers: @30
Total time: one hour 15 minutes
Hares: Swamp Bitch and Rosebutt with Doggie Style sweeping
First In: Sno Balls and Country Sausage
Three fucking minutes! Three fucking minutes, not even enough time to get your shirt over your head and your bra off, let alone fuck! Three fucking minutes - the time given to the hares before the pack was on their butts. Three fucking minutes, easily enough time for today's chase.
The hares started off pounding down trail, throwing flour at trees, missing as often as not. They headed north into Pennsylvania on trail everyone knew. Three miutes later, the hounds were headed nothr themselves. At the Pennsylvania line, the pack continued north, totally missing the only preset part of the trail. Poor Doggy Style and Toxic were left waiting for a show, which never happened, at the CB20 along Chambers Rock Road. The pack headed north with a vengeance until they hit pavement at London Tract and South Bank Roads. Country Sausage found a CB25 and sent the pack pounding back the way they had come. Swamp Bitch had peeled off early during the foot race to lay trail to the west while Rosebutt had continued and set the CB. Swamp Bitch continued on true trail, coming out at Bill's Way. Meanwhile, Rosebutt outflanked the hounds by running up South Bank Road, cutting between a couple houses and caught Swamp Bitch's trail, laying a false trail and check on the way. Back on trail, the hounds were dumbfounded by the double digit CB, running out of fingers, toes and tits to count on. Country Sausage suggested that from prior experience Rosie would cut across water whenever possible. Flaming Asshole took the hint and plunged across White Clay Creek, dragging a couple other hashers in his wake. Roadkill took the plunge entirely at this point. Well, guess what? The hares were being very merciful at this point deciding not to go for a swim.
Swamp Bitch had pounded so hard up the trail to Bill's Way that she decided to rest a little. Rosebutt meanwhile followed her, setting a check and false, promptly blowing through the false and someone's yard to gain pavement. From here on, the hares coasted.
Eventually, the hounds were back on the scent when Gay Blade choppered in and along with Hot Pants, found true trail up a hill headed west. The hares at this point were very long gone. A quick reloading with flour along Chambers Rock Road and they were out of there! Trail went over to Arc Corner Road and then headed south towards the Arc Corner Monument. Swamp Bitch set a masterful CB15 which took the hounds to an encounter with other hounds. A quick turf war developed with the hash hounds deciding to gracefully find where the trail was meant to go and leave the toothsome creatures alone. This was the time that SnoBalls decided to blow trail and play in the brambles. Rosie meanwhile had trail set again to the west across a hay field to a wooded area. From here the trail meandered through a mix of brambles, multiflora and similar excellent shiggy. Eventually today's trail merged with last week's contra and ran along with it for a while. Out into the open and then into deep shiggy, under the Z Bridge and back over it, trail headed south again with the hounds in pursuit of a long gone hare. A beer stop was located just barely inside Pennsylvania near Hopkins Road. Up a hill to a check and then down the Mason Dixon Trail, the coursers fled. On Twaddell Mill Road, Swamp Bitch had taken over from Rosebutt, after blowing through her own CB15 and laid the trail from there to the ON IN at Chambers Rock Road, making an easy and pleasant end to a challenging hash.
Snoballs was one of several First In for the day, bleeding so much that his wounds were guaranteed to be clean. Country Sausage was the first hound to run the complete trail. Cribsnatcher shortcutted and out paced the non-SCBs, not realizing the trail he took was only 300 yards shorter than true trail. Everyone else meandered in within a few minutes after that.
The Apres was at Swamp Bitch's with Down Downs for the hares and then assorted incestuous virgins and a permanent visitor from the Midwest.
An interesting observation is that live haring is the opposite of racing. In a race the first third is spent trying to find a nice even pace, the second third is spent at a comfortable pace with the last third spent trying to entirely exhaust yourself. Live haring is total annihiliation of this strategy. The first third is spent in an outright sprint trying to put some distance on the hounds. If this fails, then it is outright mayhem, running as hard as you possibly can with a ten pound jug of flour in one hand while trying to fling flour over the landscape with the other hand. Meanwhile, the sounds of hounds are in your ears and their hands possibly between your legs. It makes for an interesting hour. However, if the first sprint gives you some leg room, then it is fast paced cruising for the next couple miles and finally a gentle trot to lay the ON IN.
Before leaving apparently Rosebutt's wife gave directions for him to enjoy himself but not toooooo much. So does that mean he has to be on top the whole time or insertion is okay but not ejaculation or he's allowed to take a licking but not allowed to give one. Or he's limited to only one partner, not two or three but not four? Or unless someone becomes pregnant afterwards nothing happened? This is a very interesting concept which could use some further exploration. Any volunteers?
|from web archive|