Trail #96 was less of a trail and more of an event. Ass Full of White Man and the entire Ass Full family welcomed half-minds and wankers to their Homer farm for a good ‘ole fashioned camp out. The day began around 1:00 with hashers setting up tents and pre-lubing on the keg of Cortland Pale Ale. Butters and Slip both brought apartment sized tents and there was a bit of comedy associated with the set up of hers. Dogs were frolicking and hashers were drinking: a perfect start to the festivities.
Chalk Talk was short and meaningless as usual. The useful bits of information was that there would be 3 beers nears and a shot stop and was closer to four miles, rather than eight like last year. So far it sounded promising. It was also pointed out that Trail #96 is just a reverse 69.

So On-out and around the pond and through the woods—very thorn filled woods, I might add. And down by a corn field and into the woods again and right through a stream. The slick rocks may have caused some hash crashes and there was already a lot of blood on trail. After a bit the hash found the shot check—a delightful Mud Slide shot. Father Ass Full—aka Just Dan, informed us that the collapsing building was an old sugar shack. There was what was reported to be an electric barbed wire fence. After much debate as to whether or not it was really live, Bushy grabbed it and after a moment of surprise, indeed confirmed it to be a live electric fence.

And then we were On-out again and heading on hare. Pink Taco stopped to forage some mint along the way. We crossed the street into the back yard of the Ass Full Family Homestead where Mother Ass Full was watching the shenanigans from her deck. We passed the crate in the woods that was speculated to be young Ass Full’s Time Out spot and then it was on to more woods and streams, but things were about to get interesting.

The trail headed right into a corn field. Following flour was a bit of a challenge, but fortunately the hares had been merciful and used a lot of arrows to guide the half-minds. After many twists and turns pushing along blindly through the thick corn, hashers found daylight. Slip and Fakey may have been a little overly excited and were seen hugging and jumping up and down with joy and relief. And then it was more running. All of this running and where was the beer???

Into the woods and down a slope with the aid of a rope—and half-way down was the first Beer Near. Some folks stayed up on the slope with their beers and some continued down to enjoy the refreshing beverage along a refreshing stream. Butters amused himself by filling his bugle with water and playing it. There were also some nice conversations about water borne illnesses. Although it was a picturesque spot, the hash had to move on. There were still two more beer nears and an evening of debauchery ahead.

The hash waded through the stream following flour and back into the woods onto old roads. Eventually we returned to open fields and a trail of pink flags that led us into another corn field. I cannot say if there were marks but somehow everyone came out alive next to a big hay barn. The DFL pack had a little trouble finding the group—they could hear them, but not find a way to them.

Luckily Just Dan was the sweep and led them into the barn and to the ladder to the hay loft. Selfie’s dog, Just Riley, was having some anxiety on her first hash and being hoisted up the ladder by PA certainly did not help. But alas, all half-minds, both two-legged and four-legged made it to the top of the loft for Beer Near number two. There was a minor catastrophe when hashers climbing the bale town dislodged some and there was a mini collapse. The acoustics in the loft were prefect for singing so Slip led us in a rousing “Meet the Hashers.”

But there was still more trail ahead and another Beer Near, so we had to leave the hay loft. Out of the barn and into the daylight. The hash went through a backyard and met some more of Ass Full’s family. The cousins would not give ATV rides no matter how much the half-minds wanted. And then in was more woods and fields, and we ended up at the final Beer Near—in a hay wagon. The hash piled in and Father Ass Full—aka Just Dan—drove us up the hill to the camping area. We waved at the neighbors and the llamas along the way.

Back at the camping area we circled up and went through the usual accusations—peeing on trail, lots of blood on trail, cum latelies—renamed “Long time no cummers,” out-of-towners, and other silliness and nonsense. Then the real fun began: naming.

Just Dan was called into the circle and questioned. He was very animated and gave some entertaining responses that gave the group plenty to work with. Then Just Mark was questioned and was slightly less forthcoming. After Just Mark was sent away, Slip interviewed Just Dan about Just Mark. Description won’t do it justice, but there is video floating around out there. As the hash deliberated, cousin Just Eric spoke up and shared a story about Just Mark (isn’t family great?) and the hash had their name for Just Mark! So with great ceremony, PastorBator called Just Dan and Just Mark back into the circle. They were ceremoniously welcomed and shall forever be known as Daddy Cornhole and Danga Wuss.

From there the real merriment ensued. There was swimming in the pond and an attempt to set the world record for Most-Wankers-On-A Raft. There was fire and plenty of food and drink. As the drink got more plenty, so did the silliness and hashers could be heard making merry well into the wee hours.

On-farm life is fucking awesome-on

Respectfully submitted,

Came with a Fake Name