Hashers eagerly waited all week to find out the location of SOH4’s Hash #50. Finally it was announced that Floppy Dicks had graciously offered use of his property for the merriment and pleasure of the group. Pleasantly Average, Self Cock Block, and Just Kip would be haring through the suburban splendor of the Ville of Baldwin and the event would culminate in blazing bonfire. The theme? “Get Drunk and Burn Shit,” of course.

The hashers gathered around on a chilly, wet afternoon. While the day may have been gloomy, the spirits were anything but. A little prelube helped the hashers warm up and get in the mood. As the gang circled up, Just Kip attempted to give directions on reading the floured clues, but an uncooperative bottle made most of his flour symbols unrecognizable. Was that an X or an arrow…and what the hell is PN?

Hashers were warned that it was a thorntastic trail and found that to be true right from the get go. Blood was soon flowing from hashers with unprotected limbs. After a muddy dash across a field, the hashers were soon playing Frogger on Route 370. Fortunately no hashers were squished—which would have put a damper on things—and everyone was at the first trail check. The choice? More road running or into mud and thorns.

It was obviously the latter, so off went the hashers slogging through wet grass and mud, and dodging thorns. The first Beer Near was at a pleasant clearing by water. The rain had been intermittent but the hashers didn’t care. There was BEER! After refueling it was back at it. More mud and thorns and a Private Property sign, and then a pleasant jog past the BSK Sewage Treatment Plant—ah, the fresh country air—hashers soon made their way between some houses and onto railroad tracks. A kind home owner advised us not to jump off the bridge.

There was much grumbling and complaining on the railroad tracks…slippery wood, rocks, poor footing…and damn it, where was the beer? Hashers were getting thirsty. And would anyone have to out run a train? It was a welcome relief to turn back into the woods, though the relief was short lived as Thornageddon began its assault again.

FINALLY the hashers were rewarded with a surprise Beer Near. Beer soon soothed the harried hashers and they were once again singing. Snacks were shared—including the worst popcorn ever, though the dogs didn’t mind. Back on trail and through the neighborhood, curious onlookers waved to the merry hashers—or were they shaking a fist in anger? Well, no matter, the hashers were off with visions of the On-After to motivate them.

The hashers returned to Floppy’s after one last game of Frogger on Route 370, a dash through a housing development, and snagging an “Event Parking $8” sign. The Superman truck had delivered the pallets for burning and then some brave hashers set about building the inferno. Genital Manager managed to start the fire and set himself ablaze. But no worries, no hashers were actually harmed in the making of this bonfire.

After a few false starts, a real Towering Inferno was created. Soon beer and sangria were flowing. Hashers circled up for accusations. Hares were appropriately punished for haring a thornalicious trail and all the fu#!*@g running on the rail road tracks. Two virgins were outed and there were down-downs for everyone for peeing on trail. One hasher was recognized for more than just peeing on trail, and a hasher was accused of coming late. Soon the blazing fire dwindled, which inspired a few hashers to walk on coals. Once it the fire was completely out—safety first, kids— hashers moved the party to Sammy Malone’s for more revelry and nourishment. On-On!

Respectfully submitted,
Just Luci