In the end, this turned out to be a most impressively hosted hash. The hares couldn't have picked a more pleasant day in January, with blue skies
and bright sunshine. Many of the hashers were reduced to t-shirts during the run and the kilts worn were pleasantly airy. Many new faces put in an
appearance, with Sumpyton and Jonners - two newish hashers in Victoria - setting the trail as hares. Not only was the day verging on perfection, but
the hares also set the trail running into the District of the "Highlands," an auspicious location for a Burns hash.
Visiting from the mainland was Deli Belly and Lady Playboy from the Huge Organ
Mem
orial
H3, along with progeny "Victoria." Also, included in the hash were a number
of Squeaky and Sumpyton's neighbors, who seemed to have a hard time believing
what was actually going on, but still followed along with a good deal of enthusiasm.
The pack started their run by circling the host's new neighborhood, recently sprung up south of the highway and Thetis lake. Then it was off into the trees and ridges of Thetis lake park. Most of the trail was easily followed with lots of spectacular views along the way. The pack later met up with the walking group at what was purported to be the "Scotch Check." However, after a long wait, the pack became impatient and set out to find Sumpyton, who, it was discovered, had became lost while returning to the check with the scotch.
The down downs and on-after's were held at Squeaky and Sumpyton's, who now
probably regret allowing the rabble into their lovely new home and neighborhood.
During the down downs, the hares were picked on rather harshly by the RA (Stoolie,
since Double Hump had gone missing), particularly over their lack of tartan
regalia (both were wearing spandex shorts emblazoned with the Calgary H3 logo).
It was likely the RA was experiencing a fit of pique considering the fine run
these two hares produced. Then, after a piped entrance, came a most impressive
address to the haggis by Sumpyton, who cited the address from memory (although
this is d
ifficult
to tell, given that Burn's poetry is full of "eres" and "ies" and other Scottish
colloquialisms - whatever, the speechifying and haggis stabbing and steaming
was very impressive).
This was followed by more charges against the hare for getting lost on his own trail; demands by the female contingent for a glimpse of the RA's naked, manly buttocks under his kilt; the awarding of wanker of the week to Deep Shit; and, finally, an attempted naming of Des with hash handle. I say "attempted" because of the behavior of various hashers regarding this naming. The RA wanted to call Des "MacButt Pirate" for his use of tartan head scarf (which made him look like a tartan pirate) and his false claim of naked buttocks under the kilt where in fact there was no such thing. This was, admittedly, a feeble handle, but Stools was working with limited material and driven to produce something by the volume of individual hashers whining "Des needs a handle, Stools," but not coming up with anything of substances for him to use.
Finally, with the disappearance of the sun, the onset of bitter cold, and after the complete alienation of Sumpyton and Squeaky's neighbors, the peanut gallery stampeded inside to a sumptuous feast of haggis, neeps and tatties washed down with plenty of scotch in paper Dixie cups. Another fine end to a fine R.B. Hash: A thank you to the hares and host for a great effort.
On on, Stoolie