Monday, March 2, 2020

Corona Virus 2019 Trash

What: Corona Virus 2019 Trash
Where: Cathay Pacific
Who: Shits and Ladders
Pack: RTFO!

I walked into Cathay Pacific at 230 PM, perfectly on time, and found no one there. Confused, and mildly worried, I sat down at the bar and grabbed myself a drink. People slowly trickled in until we had a full 5 people in pack (5 Inch Penalty, Friar Fuck, Holey Dumpster Fire, Dribbles, and myself Gone Gay-WOL), our lovely Hare (Shits & Ladders) and bag car (No Man on the Moon). Shortly after the hare left asking us to wait until Friar had finished his enormous plate of various fried Chinese chicken bits and rice. After 10-15 minutes we grew tired of waiting and Friar got a to-go bag. We walked outside towards bag car and decided that we didn't really need chalk talk this week. It was cold, we all knew what we were doing well enough and we had to get moving before Buttler arrived. Our first leg brought us across the Neponset river before coming around by an, allegedly, newly revamped Planet Fitness. Running along the water 5 inch laid a pack song check to give Buttler a chance to catch up with us. From there we went maybe another 400 feet to the first beer check in a park along the water. We drank coronas (except buttler) and enjoyed the scenery around us taking in the brisk air and enchanting river view.

Soon after Shits began on the next leg and we gave chase after a respectful but not too long amount of time. We ran back the trail along the water and went under the bridge we had crossed not 20 minutes prior into Pope John Paul II park where we promptly became very lost. We stumbled around for a while before finding another song check where we realised that we had misplaced Buttler. At this point I split from the main of pack to check a direction and happened to be correct eventually finding Buttler who had, through dead reckoning alone, found the correct path and the rest of pack caught up with us as we hit the second beer check. As we approached Buttler left to find back car and grab one of his not-corona beers (because he fears the virus enough that the nominal similarity of the name is a disqualifier I believe). The rest of pack stood in the shade of a large park shelter briefly before we all came to the realisation that it was far too cold to be in the shade and we moved to just outside the shelter. As we stood and drank we notcied Buttler some distance away going to the wrong shelter where by 5 Inch gave a mighty whistle and Buttler heard him and changed course. A very large stick was also found and we measured it against the height of the Hashers present, I was the only one found to be taller than Tall Stick.

The final leg went uneventfully, we ran through the park before crossing and then running south along 93. Thankfully there were only two or three points where we needed to cross the faily large major roadway and they were all uneventful. At the end of our highway adventure we found ourselves in a neighborhood that we wound through to a forest/marsh next to the Presidents Golf Course. Naturally we were not prepared for that bougie a style of communal drinking so we stuck to swamp beers. The woods were easy enough going. We came across a mysterious red cooler (empty) surronded by the refuse of some pubescent drink fest (clean up after yourselves, youths) before coming to the place of our final beers, a bare circle of grass surronded by trees behind an office park. There we ate pizza, we drank Coronas (Did you know there's more than one kind of corona? I sure didn't), we rescued a decrpit, rusting folding chair from the marsh, and we finally swung low.

On - don’t cough on me bro - On

-The Scribe et all

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