R*n #14:
Venue: Full Moon Bar and Grill, Batavia
Hares: Full Term and Split Pee

Full Term and Split Pee's Super Bowl Hash in Batavia

A glorious Super Bowl Sunday dawned virtually devoid of traffic for this harrier.  The trip to Batavia, contrary to our hash motto of, ```Bout an hour," took only `bout 40 minutes.  Unfortunately, a little trip to work ended up screwing up the plans of me acting as transport for Yer-Anus, so the poor guy had to stay home.  The cops were out in force to check the speed and breath of all the motorists this fine day, though.  I strolled in the door of the Full Moon to find EZ Sunday, Specklebird, and Full Term already waiting.  Soon after, CICO walked in with Rhotan, undoubtedly discussing the foible of their trail gone awry from 4 weeks previous (see p. 3).  I wasn't sure if it was the atlas she'd bought or Rhotan's assistance that ensured CICO's arrival at the proper location.  Before too long, Cap'n Golden and 2nd timer, Katie showed up, along with our 2nd hare, Split Pee, rounding out the list of attendees for the day.

As we waited in vain for others to show up (or waited successfully for others not to show), Katie discovered that the women's bathroom light was burned out.  It took a good 8-10 barmen to inspect the light and reach the same conclusion, while Katie and CICO took turns standing guard outside the Men's room for each other.  As we prepared to begin the Super Bowl hash, it seemed right to bring out the mangy hash football that had gone swimming on 2CH3 run #8, thanks to Gaseous Clay's noodle arm.  Too bad good ol' trustworth Soar Balls had left it at home, just like he did Yer-Anus.

We finally braved the unseasonably warm weather and began trail, going where Full Term had pointed, only to be immediately lost.  Our fearless leader, EZ, finally set us right, looking down a side street.  Trail continued through the streets of Batavia until we reached a hospital of some sort, and got a bit lost.  EZ, Specky, and Soar Balls went straight down the road, investigating shiggy on the other side, while Rhotan and CICO, looking like twins in their Chicago Marathon jackets, took the appropriate course around the hospital with Full Term.  EZ and I soon ran into the other hare, Split Pee, with Katie in tow, and we proceeded to short-cut.  A bit of woods, a split through some great  mud, and off we went to a couple of bridges over radioactively contaminated water with multi-headed (who said head) fish.  EZ and I spotted the beer near, and proceeded up the hill to the giant windmill, thinking, ``This would be a great place for a beer stop."  The rest of the pack could be heard rustling in the lowlands.  Eventually our persistence paid off and we found the beer in a big empty flower pot. 

Discussion at the beer stop included analysis of the new three-legged panty hose, to which Specklebird raised the question of what the singular term for pantyhose might be.  Panty ho' was agreed to.  After drinking our beer and Squirt, thoughtfully provided for me and the regrettably forgotten Yer-Anus, we continued through some more woods and streets and other crap that I don't remember very well because of that Squirt buzz.

I do recall a bit of conspicuous shiggy avoidance by the hares, when trail proceeded down the subdivision street rather than through the lovely muddy construction site that EZ Sunday and Soar Balls ventured through.  At that point we finally lost sight of overachieving athletes Rhotan and CICO, who had guessed right and put on a burst of speed.

Trail took us back into downtown Batavia, where we meandered down streets, down by the river (without the van) and along some back alleys.  Specklebird was subjected to his accustomed abuse, as we continued the tradition of be mean to Specklebird weekend, which we had started on Friday night at our monthly social hour.  He, of course, didn't notice any difference from the normal state of affairs. 

We finally reached the bar and the beer contained therein.  Down-downs ensued for the hares, FRBs CICO and Rhotan, twins CICO and Rhotan, and a few others that I don't recall.  We finally got around to naming Katie .  We had decided pretty much on Panty Ho' at the beer stop, as she had initiated the 3-legged pantyhose discussion, so it was just a formality. 

Then the most amazing thing happened.  We found that we have a haberdasher who actually does something, as Rhotan brought in a truckload (or boxload) of long-sleeved Constitutional Convention shirts, as well as a goodly pile of puke towels with our logo on them.  Our first paying member, Full Term, continued his trail-blazing ways, becoming our first shirt buyer.  Specklebird also bought a shirt and a towel, but in accordance with be-mean-to-Specklebird weekend, he didn't receive his purchased items.  (Really it was because Rhotan had abandoned us early and EZ had already stowed stuff in his fortress of doom that is his truck.)  Our coffers were further filled by the receipt of Rhotan's membership fee.

After our last $6 pitcher of Michelob (YAY!) was finished, we proceeded to Split Pee's abode to watch the Super Bowl.  Beer was drunk, football was watched, and snack foods were eaten.  We determined that Budweiser was winning the ad wars with the chameleon getting slapped around by the frogs and the guys who are short of cash so desperately get paper bags and their receipt from their Bud-Light purchase.  The game was pretty unexciting, especially with all of us pulling for Atlanta.  Even though I was just drinking water and soda, I don't remember much more. 

I noticed that I somehow failed to notice much of what was going on with Cap'n Golden on this hash, though I'm sure he did many things worthy of note.  To try to make amends, I will insert his name here several times.  Cap'n Golden Cap'n Golden Cap'n Golden Cap'n Golden Cap'n Golden Cap'n Golden.

 - Soar Balls rating:  yet another 2 balls medium.  The hares get some blame for the aforementioned shiggy avoidance.  The town of Batavia gets some blame for not having more good woods.  Soar Balls gets a bunch of blame for forgetting Yer-Anus and the football.  In truth, though, this would have been a 2 balls large hash with a better turnout.  We had a good naming, great beerstop, good weather, $6 pitchers of Michelob and a Super Bowl. Better turnout would've gotten 2 balls large.