So there we were, at another brewery on another Saturday when lo and behold some half-minds decided to have a hash. As one of the hares (Blackout Mount was the other dummy in this clusterfuck), I don’t have to tell you that it was a particularly shitty trail, but I’m going to.
The hash started late, because this is Boulder, and “Heyyy, take it easy, Mannn”. So while the heroic hares set trail, the hounds partook of the hares’ lunch both physically in the form of empanadas and metaphysically with an unplanned trail shortening caused by 1. a flooded creek and 2. Blackout Mount falling into said creek. This led to a beer check after about 0.069 miles for which there was much rejoicing.
Following this, the trail meandered through creeks and deep shiggy, resulting in a crossing of the flooded creek up to Blackout’s tits and everyone else’s waists. Many wet dogs and hounds then partook in a drink check, where there was at least one Franzia facial. Deciding that we couldn’t let our fishhooks go to waste, the hares tried to tripleback through the start of trail, where the smart hounds jumped ship and the remainder avoided true trail, again, with a spotting of the hares. Shots were had by all and we proceeded to get Just Paul drunk beyond belief.
The trail continued on and on ending in some hobo encampment by the RR tracks. By this point, god had had enough and rustled up a storm that drove us back to Upslope for a few pints before circle. There was then much singing and drinking and tearing of clothes and showing of asses to each other. This ended in a glorious naming. Welcome to the hash Snoral!!! And, a long awaited handing off of the hashit to We’re Going to Need a Bigger Fist for taking his virgin’s panties and donating them to the hashit.