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PUGET SOUND H3
LA MARSEILLAISE  IX   (JULY 19, 2001)

    We should confiscate Dim Sum’s passport! Every time he leaves the country, he returns with some ill-conceived jet - lagged induced inspiration for a hash run which he immediately has to share with us,  This time it was some X-French colony on the coast of India. Apparently now it’s the site of some sex-for-one-sex-for-all spiritual Ashram. Obviously one of the more “imaginative” ideas for an x- colony. Not so obvious is why our wandering frog thought it worthy enough to be celebrated for his annual La Marseillaise  hash. Apparently, desperate for a theme, although it was hard to see the connection until we met his Guru later in the evening.

    As anyone will tell you who called the hotline three days before the run, secrecy has not been so tight since Boeing decided to move it’s headquarters. It was rumored that the hare was still ”securing” access on Tuesday. Well, he only signed up for this run a Year ago! None the less, about 20 of us showed up at 6:30 after driving the equivalent of up to Snoqualmie Pass to  find no hare, no beer, no free sex no paid sex and no spiritual enlightenment. Well, at least the run start was on the water, facing West. And the sun was blazing. Forty degrees warmer and it could have been mistaken for the Western coast of India.

    The hares ( Dim Sum, and his young nephew) and I guess Twatnot) showed at 7:00. Well, consider the hare!  The pack immediately wanted to know what Dim Sum had done with his usual partner and co-hare in crime Ben Waballs, then we discovered he was standing in the  pack and was running as a hound tonight. What did HE know that we Should of??? He did bring a NFP with him, a Belgium friend “Itian”. There were other NFPS and visitors but I only volunteered to write this dribble several weeks later since none of you other worthless hounds volunteered.

     So we are off at about 7:15-7:20. I only mention this as time becomes critical on this run. Sure way to cause total chaos on a hash is to start the run with a check. The pack is never all seen together again, or within ear shout of On On. Most of the hounds go south down the tracks. Either a bc or lost  trail. I went up to the road we came in on mistaking arrows and trail for Dim Sum’s parking directions. We check the road south. No trail. With water to the west, no brainier for me and Where’s to head north towards the park we were told not to park at. Huh? Of course we finally heard On On called along the tracks heading north. We keep a keen site out for trail as we head into the back entrance of the Meadowlark Ashram for the anally retained and criminally insane. Wouldn’t hurt if you was born-again as well.

     We proceed through the shut gate where some dork in kaki /nazi shorts asked us if we are with”him”; gesturing to Dim Sum who had just pulled up behind us. “No, never seen him before. He looks French to me.”

    You guys who followed trail to this point will have to bear with this scb as I’m sure I missed some incredible west-Indian beach run as the sun set slowly into the soon to be nearing “dusk” time of the day. Where’s and I finally hit true trail at a check which came up the hill away from the park and water. Many wankers chose to short-cut through the Ashram and disturbed one of the nuns who immediately began scolding the loud and ruckus pack of hashers. It was not determined which part of the Institution she was committed to. She seemed to be some sort of salmon savior.

      So the always environmentally conscious hare now chooses a salmon recovery site to route his “RAMBO” trail deviation. It looked promising at first and I was ready to get off the pavement of this urban hack-job of a hash. Some of the pack ramboed, some yanked on the trail adjacent to the Rambo. Pretty lame Rambo although I was run over almost immediately by one of those SEAL type Navy guys. Stuff-the-clam” I believe. I said to myself;”What the fuck is the hurry,   are they shooting at us?” Trail went up and out the park and Thumper, Myself, and a nfp got lost and fortunately had the nfp’s prior knowledge of the neighborhood to get us back on trail.

Everything after this seemed like a long slug through numerous neighborhoods. All roads.  Beer check in the woods. Clever trick caught the frb’s down to a loop to the creek and back up as the beer slurping others ran on the above trail. Never leave a beer check early.

    So what’s left. Pavement, pavement, pavement. Then a trail to take us back to the Ashram of Meadowlark. No whistles please.

Dim Sum had indeed redeemed himself we all thought as we looked at the shelter overflowing with strange foods and banquet burners. The smell of fresh ink permeates the air as the hare proudly displays the latest La Marseillaise Hash shirt and much anticipated luggage tags. All this for 15 $! What could possibly spoil such a fine evening as this?

    Dim Sum calls me over to show me the official white board Ashram hours for our prayer service which had the hours of operation all smudged out and 9:00 scribbled in. It was 8:30 now. Not a good sign.  Dim Sum confronts the kaki-clad Gestapo/Guru who informs our French hare that he had miscalculated the time of “dusk” and thus the 9:00pm change. He asks Dim Sum the classic question; “Have a late start.”?

     AT 8:45, Thumper and I  decide we had better hold the circle quick as dusk was approaching. So I loaded the vessels, popped the tops off a half dozen silver bullets for other infractions, and blew my whistle and shouted to form a circle. Immediately Dim Sum warns me about my whistle and raising my voice. What kind of place IS this Meadowlark Ashram? We were soon to find out. My back is to the beautiful West Indian-like coast and facing Dim Sum  who is now muttering something about seven up’s. I watch him hide all the open silver bullets inside the vessel bag and wonder what’s up until out of no where, the kaki-clad dweeb approaches and yells; “ARE YOU DRINKING BEER HERE? WELL, GET RID OF IT”. So being typical hashers, everyone who has a beer in his glass tips it up and begins to “get rid of it”. This raises the shorts on our little Hitler about three inches as he explodes with; “I DON’T MEAN DRINK IT!!! I MEAN DUMP IT OUT! NOW!!! Well, why didn’t he say so? So now he approaches our French hare and lectures him about there being no mention in their earlier discussions about having beer on the premises. I’m sure it was just an oversight on our hares part.

So after dumping our beers, we still had a full vessel which I gave to the hare and immediately sang;  Why was her born so beau…. You know the words, when I got to “He’s no fucking use to anyone” again my back is to the beach and I see  again  cringing as our anally retentive-criminally insane nazi-clad Hitler imitator does an about-face and goose steps back to the circle where he explodes again, ranting some diatribe  about profanity, that this was a family ashram, the rules were plainly written on the entrance, blah blah blah  and his days were filled with trying to eliminate profanity from the ashram. One polite hasher pointed out that it was after 9:00 and nobody was there but us. This seemed to infuriate him even more. Who were we to question him, Mr Kaki-clad nazi ranger of enforcing the rules. Gee wiz, what kind of ashram was this anyway? It was obvious this was their first encounter with the French. Well, not exactly true. Apparently this guy had picked up Dim Sum’s young visiting nephew at 11:00 the other night inside the ashram way after closing hours.

     So our kaki-clad inmate kicked us out immediately and thus the circle ended without even one down down. A new record. I lectured our French hare about his history of these La Marseillaise runs always being on the fringe of major police action but I was soon informed that out of the NINE  La Marseillaise runs held, only FOUR have involved the authorities. Dim Sum was almost gloating as he informed me of this. “4 out of 9 is not so bad, eh Snoballs?”

     I performed my civic duty by dragging the beer keg out and back to the hares car. An informal circle was held back at the cars outside the reach of the kaki-clad dwarf.

   Congrats to Dim Sum and Twat Not(I guess) and little dimitri. After this debacle, Ben Waballs declared he would return next year as a co-hare and to

“rein-in” his brother-in-law. Good luck there Ben Waballs

 On On     

             snoballs