New Orleans Hash House Harriers
Cumming Together for the
The Forty Eighth Week after Katrina
Hare: Butt Gravy Beer Fart Lusty Lady
Date: 24 July 2006 (Saturday)
About thirty miles up the Mississippi River from New Orleans there is a one-mile-long weir that, when the big river gets uppity, can be lowered to allow the upper four or five feet of water flow about ten miles to the southwest sector of Lake Ponchartrain. The river is rarely, however, at flood stage so the man-made wilderness becomes a recreational area that hashers dream of. It has large ponds with and without alligators, marsh, mud, wooded areas of willows and poplars and of course, a pre-Butt Gravy-The ponderance of the Unof-Hare ficial State Bird of Louisiana, mosquitos.
As the hare, Butt Gravy, fled the encampment under bright sunshine and ominous clouds with his bags of flour, the assembled hounds from Baton Rouge and from New Orleans sprayed one another with mosquito repellant, sun screen and those who remembered, poison ivy block. The time was 12:00 hours, plus or minus some. When the ten-minute lead time expired, the pack set out on the trail first headed south toward the Highway 61 bridge across the spillway to a long curve around a pond and into the weeds. The weeds were high enough to block view of any navigation landmarks and the sun was nearly directly overhead which, except for Gravy’s generous deposits of flour, left only the noise of traffic to maintain bearings.
The pack were led through the weeds for a while and back out to one of the dirt roads used mostly for atv fun and the first beer check. After satisfying with beer the thirst developed on the trail through the weeds, the hounds set out on trail again into some hardwoods following atv trails to a couple of confusing turns, some moderate shiggy and a bunch more trees.
Somewhere after the first beer check and the second, Ice Balls allegedly (according to him) encountered a possum, or nutria or something, which registered to him as, “groceries”. Very soon afterward, Ice balls encountered an alligator which also spelled possum , “l-u-n-c-h”, and at
tempted to explain it to Ice Balls with some magnificent posturing and body english. Not willing to give in so easily, Ice Balls attempted to show the alligator that one measly little tidbit was not worth losing his life to take. A struggle was said to have ensued but, alas, along came Dental Damsel. The ‘gator fled, DD ripped off her shirt and fashioned a bandage for the gash in Ice Ball’s leg and retreated along the trail to find a vehicle to transport the casualty to a MASH facility...which turned out to be a convenient hospital emergency room where stitches were administered and Ice Balls was awarded a lollipop.
The trail led the remaining hounds on a loop through the woods to some more atv trails and to the second beer check, right where the first one was, or so the scribe was told. The beer truck had long departed by the time he and a few other fellow dfl’s got there.
Trail then led south to, and under, the before-mentioned bridge to a parking area and the third beer check. From there, trail led to the camp and the On-in and the promise of food and the Gaw-rawn-tee of beer and the Circle.
New Boots: There was at least one, someone please e-mail the info to me.
Early Withdrawal, Knave’s Bitch, Porkymon, Spandex Smile, Pick Of The Litter, and one more from Panama City but your belov’d scribe cannot read his own handwriting. Can anyone help?
Old Hag distinguished herself by tripping and falling-- ”For no reason at all!” She did an obligory down-down.
Religious advisors: Bugg Fugger and Dental Damsel
At this time in the proceedings, Ice Balls walked up with his leg all wrapped up in a clean, white bandage, but...no nutria! It turned out that Ice Ball’s prey was indeed a nutria and not a possum as was previously noted`. The pack then resigned to dine on the hamburgers and hot dogs as was the original plan for the day.
Dental Damsel called Butt Gravy and accused him, the hare, of having to ride from the last beer check-in the beer truck!
Scribe: On Da Rag (Tom) Errors? Omissions? Send an e-mail to: tom43cunningham@@yahoo.com Or, attend the next Hash and make arrange ments with the Religious advisor to bring it up in the circle.