Hares: Hummer Gay'mes and Cuddle Puncher
Hounds: NBA, PCP, PPL, PBR, Poopy the Slayer, Tina (this was almost the Acronym Pack)
Wow. How many ways can one describe "shitty trail"? The following will be just one description, although this may have been the shittiest of the shitty trails.
Evidently, the hares were channeling the spirit of Saint Tequila, TAH3's patron saint of hellish trails, through the second half of trail. The first half of trail was a tame neighborhood stroll through the streets of Bel-Where-the-Hell-Is-Aire. The hares' purpose must have been to lull the hounds into a drooling stupor from the boredom of the route. Little did the hounds know that Shiggy Hell was waiting for us.
The hounds located the first beer near about 50 feet from the start, thus falsely leading us to believe that trail would be extra short. Continuing down the dirt roads of the neighborhood, we eventually found ourselves by the railroad tracks near the Koch Evil Empire Complex. Trail could have been a long straight line down the tracks, but no, the hares decided we hadn't experienced enough poison ivy, dead animals and mud yet, and led us off the tracks through some shiggy to a fallow field. After we ran through plenty of mud and weeds, they then veered trail back to the tracks. We eventually were led to Wichita's premier outdoor art gallery on the concrete walls of the 96 overpass. Soon, trail veered to the south through a desiccated soybean field to another bank of trees and crap. Lo, and behold, on the other side of this greenbelt, we found ourselves on the grounds of the Center for Health and Wellness Through the Consumption of Roots, Berries and Twigs and the Medicinal Use of Crystals. Here, things went from bad to worse.
Trail took us across Hillside into some major shiggy, which was fine and dandy. But then we came to the Fiscal Cliffs of Doom (reference last year's Drinksgiving trail which circled up in spitting distance of said cliffs), which the hares decided was a dandy place to stash the second beer near. At the bottom of the cliffs. The only way to get to the nectar of the gods was to risk death and scale down the sheer and muddy cliff. There was no choice. But Death will not stand between a hasher and his/her beer. Once everyone safely made it to beer level, the pack marveled at the natural beauty of the location, with the pristine waterfall cascading over the concrete chunks, and the salmon and rock fish charmingly traveling upstream to spawn. After getting rehydrated and refreshed, the pack looked for trail and found one of Cuddles' characteristic microscopic rock-arrows leading trail up the other side of the creek to the top of Wichita's Grand Canyon. Once we scaled our way to the top, we found trail going down a paved path. What nice hares, we thought! But no, this did not last long before they diabolically veered trail back into some major weed-infested shiggy. And lo, did the pack discover yet another heretofore unknown Creek of Hades. I will not belabor the dismay that we felt when we realized we had to risk our lives yet again and rappel down yet another sheer cliff only to be confronted with an icy cold stream to cross and the necessity of scaling up another vertical wall of mud in order to escape the River Styx.
Were we at the end? Oh no. Trail took us endlessly through some untouched by human hands or feet shiggy. We found civilization by stumbling onto some railroad tracks by the animal shelter. So, on to the west down the tracks we crawled until we came upon a "park" with an On-In mark on the pavement leading us to .......seemingly nowhere. However, the hares were hiding at the bottom of a hill by the water with our blessed refreshments.
Considering what we had had to go through to get to the nectar, the substitute RA humanely conducted a shortened circle, with the pack granting the only dead bug to PCP, who yet again did not bring a whistle. Beer was consumed, cheese sand was eaten, and there was much rejoicing. On after was at Freebird's on Hillside. On on!