Leftover Trash

What: The Leftovers Hash

Hares: Shits n Ladders and Testicular Mechanics

Bag Car: Twat My Mom

Pack: Fellowship of the Cock Ring, Luva Lamp, Yellow Dick Gnome, Lumberjackoff, a Just, two visitors AND THAT WAS IT

Pre-lube: 

I got to Summer Shack after the very prompt hares had already left, so I immediately called 6.9 minutes to get this shit show on the road. I didn't recognize half the pack, which seemed worrisome. Two r*cist hares and a pack that's nearly half visitors/justs? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG??

What went wrong aka I swear I scouted that way already:

After the finest chalk talk I've ever given, we started looking for trail, which immediately went through Alewife station. We wandered through some parks and around the ugly high-rise apartments, along Alewife Brook Parkway to a count back that took us down to a parking lot and then towards a maze of old industrial buildings and abandoned parking lots. We came across a hash sitapede that I decided to ignore. From there, there were about as many marks as there were hashers in pack, which is to say not many. We ran in circles for a while until Luva decided to zen towards where there was a possible beer check location. Low and behold, the hares were there, freezing their asses off. It's the least they could suffer for what they put us through.

BC1: 

Some park next to a small pond. We drank beer. It was nice. Hares laid a giant check right in front of us as they left. Why?? We can see which way they went!

Marks, glorious marks!

Turns out, our tricksy hares had pre-laid trail going a different way then they left. So clever, but not more clever than our visitor, who immediately figured out their game and led us in the correct direction. The hares took our admonishment to "be more generous with marks" to heart, but we still managed to miss a check and started trespassing in some dude's back yard, trying to find a way through his fence. He kindly did not call the cops on us, and we found the actual trail, eventually ending up at a shot check with some vaguely cucumber-flavored hatorade. We drank it down and continued on our way right back to the parking lots we had been lost in on the first leg of trail. I got separated from pack, but Fellowship rescued me. Turns out I didn't miss much, because they were doing laps around a Burger King. Trail led to Fresh Pond and a second hatorade check, this one an uninviting shade of yellow-brown. We drank that one too, and ran on until we found beer check 2.

BC2:

Park. Beer. Darkness.

It's a hare snare if I say it's a hare snare:

Trail went on to Danehy Park, aka the park built on top of an old land fill. I kept finding trail and feeling pretty good about myself when I came across the hares. Turns out, they ran out of flour tantalizingly close to where we'd be back on pavement, but were kind enough to wait for pack so they could direct us which way to go. I still count that as a hare snare. I waited for pack to catch up with me, which took FOREVER because apparently everyone decided now was the time for a leisurely stroll in the park. Why? THERE'S BEER AT THE END, PEOPLE! 

On-in:

We ended at everyone's favorite shitty west Cambridge dive bar, Paddy's Lunch. There were accusations, including visitors, transplants, hare snares, and some other stuff. We found out why everyone was a Leftover, which mostly came down to being too cheap to go skiing or go to Chicago. Shits decided to sing a verse song every time I called on him for a note, which apparently he does to torment me. After circle was over, the visitor convinced some of us to hang out after circle since her dad was watching some sporting event and wouldn't pick her up until it was done. We continued drinking more than was strictly necessary for a Sunday night.

Announcements:

1/11: Holiday party. There's a theme or something

1/12 (probably): January taco. All tacos and burritos with a bag-car token are welcome to attend. Brunch run starting and ending at Casa de Gnome

1/19: Ballbuster Lasagna-off trail

1/27: Robbie Burns trail (scotch, haggis, regrets)