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March 28, 1999

R*n #18:
Venue:
Sycamore Square shopping center, Buffalo Grove
Hares: Yer-Anus

Golden, Golden, Where the F*ck is Golden?

My fears in finding the start were allayed by two facts.  First, there were only two shopping centers at the corner of Dundee and Arlington Heights Road, and second, only one of these had a pink-clad, bunny-eared Yer Anus in its parking lot.  As Rear Guard drove the hare to the finish to drop off a car full of beer, I offered the remaining American Light to Gaseous, Full Term and Speckie.  We were treated to 3 visitors, a couple attached to Buffalo Nuts, namely, Jill and Pat, as well as unattached visitor (except for her absentee husband) Golden Eagle from Las Vegas.  Must be a pretty swell marriage too, as her mum-in-law drove her there and waited patiently for her return.

Things got underway with YA's typical live hare action, going out the back end of the strip mall, into a little housing stuff and through a bunch of subdivisions, including a corner followed by paint speckles that looked EXACTLY like flour.  We eventually got to a majorish intersection, across the street from a big hill, complete with a split.  I split right, figuring it would be a waste of my marathon-sore legs to climb the hill just to come back down.  Well, I ran ALL THE WAY AROUND that G-d-forsaken hill, and no marks were to be found.  Upon almost reaching my starting point, I saw my compatriots drinking what in all likelihood was MY beer at the top of the hill.  I'd just missed the re-release of the hare, who intersected my path just behind me, unaware of my presence.  At the beer stop, I got to see all that lovely Buffalo Grove had to offer, namely a bunch of subdivisions.  Speckie, Buffalo Nuts and Jill stayed on the windswept hill with me while I finished, and they waited for Rear Guard and Pat.  During this time, we all asked each other if anyone had seen Cap'n Golden, who had just returned chap-lipped from a week of skiing in CO.  Unanimous answer was, ``Not since the very beginning."

Well, after retracing my steps, now flour-covered, we recaught the pack in time for more subdivisions, a little bit of shiggy with some swamp, where I think I saw some chivalry in helping out Golden Eagle, but I don't remember who.  This part led to a check where multiple flour-balls were seen entering a tennis court, which were dutifully followed by Horn-E and Polly, while I spied a Wildman up ahead at the corner.  I followed him until he disappeared at a check.  I wandered about while others came up and found true trail, across the main road and into the woods.  At this point I ran into B Nuts and Jill again, and followed them like a turkey buzzard.  We kept to the path, while true trail wound about in the forest preserve, to the lake where Wildman had caught the hare.  We could still see his little pink bum marking trail up the big hill, to the picnic are where we ended. 

There we were treated to the standard chips, beer, Nutter Butters and Oreos, while the wind chilled us to the bone.  Someone, for the sake of getting his name in here, I'll say it was Matt, suggested we move festivities over to the alcove where the wind wasn't so bad.  We followed likesheep, which got Speckie a little excited.  Down-downs were had for the multiple visitors, the hare, FRB, DFL, etc.  I'm pretty sure just about everyone got something for their troubles. 

We then returned to the starting point for the ON-ON-ON at the little pizza place in the same strip mall.  Apparently the directions to the end, and lack of directions back to the start (or directions to the ON-ON-ON) coerced poor Golden to turn around right after the start and he-d for home to rest his weary bones.  The directions were also convoluted enough to drive away another visitor who tried to join us, but failed, even though he was staying in nearby Schaumburg.  E-mails from Aunt Jemima were a little kinder to Mr. Anus than some earlier complainants about poor A-B-C directions.

At the pizza place we enjoyed pizza, beer, and beer nuggets, a type of fried bread, until everyone was ready to leave.  Trail itself was adequate, but not as shiggified as one might hope for after such a long drive.  Confusion and loss of a hound (and one potential hound), as well as horrid high winds and a bad attitude on my part leave me to rank this one:  Two balls small.

 - Soar Balls

Note:  This was the first hash that was not attended by our beloved and fearless leader, EZ Sunday.  Fear not, lads (and lasses), no ill has befallen our GM any greater than a failed computer which required him to redo work that was supposed to have been running all day Saturday.  After missing this week's hash (#20), he should be back raring to hare for #21 in Elmhurst. 

Also Note: This hash brought our number of 10-timers to 7 (EZ, S Balls, Full Term, Yer Anus, Dainty, Rear Guard, and Speckie), with Buffalo Nuts and Cap'n Golden knocking on the door.  Let me know if you have not received your ``Un-Fucking Believable premium yet.

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