Marin Hash # 18 - Fairfax
Hare - Useless Tool

As written by Arabian Goggler:

.....I was challenged to resurrect the brain cells responsible for remembering this hash weekend. Ménage a-Toe and myself, the Arabian Goggler, carpooled to somewhere between San Anselmo and Fairfax in Marin to join in on Useless Tool's death hike through Deer Head Park. What follows is primarily my activities as were so late getting to the start. .....I'm loathingly calling this the "OW! Hash". Well, Ménage a-Toe and I were running late to make Start time but we figured damn it, we just went through one the longer of the hashes of the year in Sacto H3… how bad could this be? Encouraging us further, at least 5-7 other hashers seemed to be just beginning almost an hour after start time. And misleadingly enough, the expected uphill trek seemed awfully short before we tilted down and soon we had caught up with Love Canal who decided to take the walkers split from the trail. Menage and I followed the r*nners trail like true half-minds… even more so as we hadn't a beer yet to lube our sore muscles from the previous afternoon's hump… in reference to hashing. Much horsesh*t seemed to indicate this trail was more equestrian than pedestrian but the floor also indicated we were heading the right way. Ménage had easily bounded a-head pausing only to make sure my semi-hung over ass was within shouting distance. Ow. Almost as a warning, we came upon a flour arrow taking us off trail into the bush, I immediately *almost* turned an ankle… not so much painful as it was foreboding. Was this wise? Had that ever mattered before? More importantly, had I ever attempted this sober before? NO! Why dear Lord oh why! Sorry. Anyway.
..... There was shiggy, there was a dry creek bed, and then there was the hill. Not since the infamous Virgo hash of '03 in Millbrae had such an incline been attempted. And at least that hill had a rope!!! No such luxury for the pack this time. All you had to hang on to were weeds with thorns or dig your dainty fingers into the dirt like the rest of the worms… I mean hashers. And what sucks most about being DFL on an off-trail hash? What one would call "footholds" are tore up by the rest of the pack! Enter Ménage with her 100 pound frame (I'm being generous)… up the hill like the 4th Billy Goats Gruff! Enter AG with his 200 pound frame (now I'm down right lying), 10 of those pounds were my eyes as they bugged out seeing this hill. What followed could only be described as spirit breaking. Next Ow.
..... As I climbed this monstrosity, I could hear Menage give direction where the best path lie and then the proverbial Man in the Mountain would say, "get your lard ass back down the hill" and there I would slip 3-4 feet. A little thorn in the hand, a little dirt on the knee. Double Ow. I tried again, just as before, I heard Menage tell me a path was 5 feet above my position, and the Man would bitch slap me down again, this time a little farther and on my ass. Now my arm's banged up, but butt has scratches and I'm exhausted. I rest and try again (truly the definition of insanity: repeating the same action to expect a different result). Ow Ow Ow. This time when I fall, I'm doing the classic maneuver of trying to slow my decent by clawing at the ground above me (damn near tore the nail out of my middle finger). When I finally stop falling, I'm on my ass, and I have this prime view about 10 yards down hill of the dry creek bed with a 10 foot drop to rocks below. Got me thinking, then I saw the cut in my thigh, the cut below my knee, the scrapes and assorted bruises, and the WEDGEE OF ALL WEDGEES ENTERING MY COLON!!! Ow #4.
..... Before I get a chance to say, "F*ck it, I'm turning back!" Menage yells, "F*ck it, let's go back!", takes two steps downhill and proceeds to slide on her ass feet first down the hill, easily eclipsing my record breaking slide by 20 feet! At least I had the good sense to be a bit spooked by my slide, this nut was giggling before she came to a stop! Does anyone else find that a bit distressing? Just me? Well she has been hashing a bit longer than I. Climbing down the hill was a bit challenging but we did it with style and grace (Quintuple Ow). From there it was a limping, bleeding, sore walk back to the walker's trail and the short hump past the fragrant horse stable (Note: Menage stopped to pet one of the beasts of burden and do her imitation of Mr. Ed, but I could have sworn it turned to laugh at me in my state) until we merged with the r*nners trail right on time. Turned out their trail was over 6 miles, at least 4 more *after* the monster hill that beat me.
..... Notes from the ON IN: there was a line to the recreation water spigot to clean cuts and bruises; no one saw PO on trail (small blessing); I was runner up in the most scraped/cut contest (not fair, you can't see bruises as well on brown skin!); French hasher, Oui Oui, caught a down down for accusing our Governor of being German; I didn't wish that the hare, Useless Tool, catch PO on his genitals while wanking because I found out he had to relay his pre-laid (we'll just ignore that for the moment) trail twice… turns out there's some energetic soul in the Sierra Club that's monitoring the Marin website and covering up the hare's hash marks with leaves and dirt. Some reason, Muff Daddy got a down down for that (?); the circle should be named the echo group because no song was ever sung in coordination. Notes from the ON ON ON: Final Ow of the day. After dousing ourselves with Hydrogen Peroxide in the Albertson's parking lot (!!!!!!), Menage and I walked across the street to the newly established Ross Valley Brewing Company; sampler of all 9 of their standard and seasonal brews, most popular was the Leeper (?) Red Ale. Splat (how did he make it up that hill?) went for the Stout which I thought was chewable; got a free pint of the Red because the waiter screwed up my order. Ow.

- The Arabian Goggler visiting hasher from Silicone Valley H3