Yesterday’s Hash was my personal worst experience in my short Hashing career. No, I didn’t get hurt. I did get left behind.

The day’s Hares have a reputation of laying difficult trails. I’m okay with that. I knew it was going to be a long one when the Hash truck dropped us further out than I’ve ever seen thus far. As is customary, the runners started from a more distant starting point, us walkers started maybe a kilometer further up the trail.

Things went south pretty quick once I exited the truck. The walkers split into two groups, those of us following the trail and those who chose to take a short cut. I’m all about respecting the Hare by taking the path as he intended. And so it was On-On:

Our trail started straight up a rather steep hillside. I snapped this picture (which put me at the back of my group). This was the last I ever saw of them.

I’m not the slowest walker, but the group I followed left me in their dust. I really, really hate being alone on the trail. It wasn’t too long before the runners caught up and passed me. And that was it. I guess there is no Hash ethos of “no man left behind”. I was able to follow the trail markings at least (which isn’t always the case with me). Coming back down the muddy hill was perilous, slipping and sliding and wondering what would become of me if I happened to hurt myself. I made it down to the bottom and said “fuck this”. I hiked back to the National Highway and followed it on into Barretto and the “on-home” at Midnight Rambler. I was of course one of the first people back having missed the majority of the trail.

I made the right call though. When one of the walkers (Flim Flam Man) from my group (and a very experienced Hasher) returned, he was bitching about this being the most dangerous trail he had ever seen. He was particularly incensed that the Hares had laid trail that required climbing a TEN FOOT tall wall. There is no possible way I could have done that, nor would I have even attempted it if I was alone on the trail. Flim Flam raised his concerns during the circle but was pretty much just blown off.

Anyway, I do look forward to the Hash each week and I intend to continue participating. However, I’m not going to put myself in a situation that could lead to serious injury. It’s just not worth it. Even though you are very careful, injuries can happen t any time. So, if you are injured, contact experienced lawyers like the workers’ compensation attorneys serving Carlson Meissner to help you claim compensation and give legal counseling.

I did purchase a pair of Hash socks though:

It’s on-on, no no, or oz oz depending on your perspective I suppose.

Sorry to be such a little bitch about this week’s Hash…

Speaking of close calls, two of the young women (and I’m talking early 20s young) who attended sat and drank with me during the after Hash activities. I’ve discerned that they are both freelancing to help pay their school expenses. Hell, I’ve been known to help out a gal in need. Plus I was drunk and horny. I left it up to them to decide who’d leave with me, they got up and consulted out of earshot, then returned and announced they were up for a 3-some. Did I mention I was drunk and horny? Let’s go! I responded.

Now, given my lack of water at home situation I already had a hotel room booked (I will NOT be bringing hookers to my house) at Treasure Island. When we arrived I asked if they were hungry and of course they were. So was I though, so we ordered up some food. Over the course of the meal I sobered up enough to ask myself “what the fuck are you thinking?” I didn’t have a good answer to that, so I told the ladies that I had changed my mind. I gave them each 500 pesos and walked back home.

The adventure continues!