Hare:  Hummer Gay'mes
Hounds:  Dip, PPL, NBA, Tina, ASS, Cuddles, Anything Goes, PQuad, nnAlex, Puff for the first half of trail, BP and nn Dakota for the second half of trail
 
Well, kids, there is so much to be said about this trail, but most of it can be summed up by our Trail anthem.  So, I could leave it with that, but I'm not going to.  The theme of this trash is "Shitty Trail, how do I count the ways?"
 
Let's start at the beginning, at chalk talk.  We were told by our beloved hare that trail would be 3.5 to 4 miles.  We were also told that there would be two marks after an intersection and one after a split.  We found out once we began trail that our hare likes to tell lies.    Either that,  or 1) her memory is waaay diminished for a 24-year-old, or 2) she can't count, or 3) she has no concept of distance, or 4) all of the above.  The hounds were confused from the start of trail, and it went downhill from there.   Half the pack found the first beer near behind Commerce Street by the railroad tracks, after an extensive search.  The half that found the beer kinda wished they hadn't, after discovering it to be consisting of Genny Lite, which turns out to be a step down from Milwaukee's Beast and a slight step up from Boxer Lite.  Trail then took a circuitous route west to eventually end up at the Waterfront where overpriced food was sold by food trucks.  The lines were long and the food was expensive, so most of the pack took off after trail.  We found the lost walkers, but we lost Cuddles and Tina who decided that they needed to eat.  These two wankers ended up shortcumming to the on-in (hmm, how did they have this advance information?.....).  The rest of the hounds spent what seemed to be hours and hours trying to follow the very few and very confusing marks left by the stingy hare.  We ended up by Exploration Place then on through Delano, and finally found the second beer near, where many used needles, crack pipes and aerosol paint cans were scattered around to make us feel welcome.  The downside of this beer near was that we found more Genny Lite to quench our thirst.  
 
Trail then took us south to the on-in which was at Hummer's house.  Surprise, surprise, who should we find there but the lost hounds, Tina and Cuddles, partaking of beer and munchies in her living room.  PQuad had technology-on-trail, and she clocked the distance to be 6.1 miles, a little longer than we were told at the start.  Need I mention that Hummer experienced many, many variations of dead bugs with her Boone's Farm?  No, I do not.  Shitty trail, good times.  On on!

Hare:  BOYA
Hares:  PPL, Amanta, Anything Goes, Puff the Magic Ass Grabber, NBA, Coyote Cockwise, Cuddle Puncher, Hummer Gay'mes, nnAlex, nnKatie, nnMike

Starting from the Pubic Bar and Grill in Old Town, the hounds scattered like lice down the hairy back streets of Wichita's nether regions, searching to suck the blood out of the mother lode, our very own Born On Your Anus.  We were practically immediately almost smashed like bugs on the train tracks by the old depot.  After scuttling down the embankment, the hounds followed trail to the west side of the river in the Delano district to locate our one and only beer near.  Nothing need be said about the quality of the beer.  We continued trail back to the east (there's something almost poetic about the geometric shape of the rectangle), and ended up back at the Pubic.  After loading up on $2 cans of PBR and Coors, we circled up on the Brickyard patio.  Circle was brilliantly conducted by the delightful NBA, with occasional contributions from our beloved GM for Life, BOYA.  This writer does hope that Hummer Gay'mes is paying close attention to the complexities of writing the trash, since she's a shoe-in for Hash Trash in this year's erections.  On on!

Hares:  Cuddle Puncher and Boathouse Pussy
Hounds:  BOYA, PPL, NBA, Tina East the Piss, Tequila Tony, Hummer Gay'mes, nnSarah, nnMike, nnAlex

Starting from the Driftwood Lounge on South MacArthur in Who-Knows-Where-The-Hell-ShitTown, trail took the pack through scenic ShitTown sights, such as a myriad of trailer parks, over chainlink fences, through drainage pipes, in and out of homeless campsites, down endless bike paths, past invisible donkeys, over some railroad tracks to the first beer near.  The beer near was located in about the most delightful location we've had for a beer near:  some pitted out, stripped, tagged, broken-glassed, nasty-ass, empty trailers.   Once we enjoyed the accommodations and the refreshments, we continued on across the river.  We were given a choice of staying dry and risking getting smashed by an oncoming train, or wading across the thigh-high river.  Once across, we headed down yet another endless stretch of bike paths.  We encountered a YBF and a playground opportunity before getting to the next beer near.  Trail continued down a short way along the omnipresent bike path by the river, and then made a veer across the river to the on-in, located in an improvised fort constructed by the legendary Tyler.  Circle was shitty, trail was shitty, and on-after was at Joe's in Old Town.  On on.

Hare: Ass

Hare: Anus

Hounds: Rhinestone Catbitch, Moon over My Hammy, Beestiality B4 Boys, Hummer Gay'mes, ASS, NBA, Tina Eat the Piss, Phi Phi Licker, Cuddle Puncher, nnAlex, nnMelanie, Anything Goes, Dipshit, nnMike, Puff the Magic Ass Grabber

Trail started off innocently enough in a sketchy, somewhat abandoned parking lot. I’m not sure that the recovering alcoholics who were there for their court-ordered meeting appreciated us and our open containers in their parking lot. Anus was nearly run over by Puff in his attempt to make it in time for Hare’s away; the pack took off soon after. 

Hares: Phi Phi Licker/Tina Eat the Piss

Hounds: Anus, Dip, NBA, CP, nnAlex, nnKatie, nnSarah, BP

Pack gathered at Hash appropriately named “Whiskey Dick’s” around 6:30. After giving the hares five minutes or so, the hounds descended into the mid-April freezing temperatures outside to follow what would come to pass as one of the shittiest trails in the history of hashing. We went through a laundry mat, West High campus, and then congregated under the new Lincoln St. Bridge, where the BN was hidden. After that, trail made its way through some neighborhoods and ended up back at Whiskey Dick’s. 

Inside, hashers were delighted with the menu items, which included a sandwich called the “Grandma’s Dick”, which Cuddle Puncher eagerly ordered. Circle was typical, songs were sung, and everyone rejoiced. The bartender was wicked nice and all but begged us to return again, which we probably will. 

ONON!

Hares:  Dip and Boathouse Pussy
Hounds:  NBA, Phi Phi Licker, Sniff This, Cuddle Puncher, Anything Goes, PQuad, nnCharlie, Tequila Tony, nnDozer, Snatchajawea, Cum in My Brown Eye, Who Blew Poo 

The TAH3 16th Analversary / Red Dress event was a small but excellent hash, with the pack's most dedicated and most excellent wankers in attendance.  The weather was perfect, the beer was plentiful (at least it wasn't Boxer), and the trail was shitty.  It was an unusual B to A trail, with A at the abode of the Venerable Dipstick and LSD.  Chalk talk was at A, and then the hares took off via automobile to B, with the instructions that the hounds were to follow in 15 minutes, crammed into cars, illegal-immigrant-style.  En route to B, the hounds spied the hares marking trail on Andover Road.  Tequila Tony was at the wheel, and would have veered over in order to pants them, but our vehicle was blocked in by traffic.  So we continued on to the parking location.

One of the more remarkable qualities of this trail was that it more than likely set the international hash record for checks, all sorts of checks.  Song checks, hokey-pokey checks, WSU wahoo checks, boob checks, penis checks, photo op checks, checks on corners across from checks on the opposite corner.  Thankfully, there were no clothing exchange checks, since most everyone else's red dresses were hideous and I frankly like looking my best on trail.

So, back to trail.  B was at Kellogg and we basically straight-lined our way down Andover Road, with a couple of detours through trailer parks and down dirt roads.  Fortunately for the DFLs, the red dresses of the FRBs were quite visible from afar so it wasn't really necessary to follow trail much of the time. The DFLs just kept their eyes peeled for red and strolled straight down Andover Road.  

There were two beer nears, both at bars.  First was at Stooges, and second was at Timbuktu.  By the time the pack got to Timbuktu, the WSU game was about to begin, so the racist-minded wankers drained their vessels in record time, and bee-lined it back to the on-in so they could numb their minds in front of the TV and watch their beloved Shockers.  After the game, it was time for the circle.  Lots of accusations, lots of dead bugs, and Little Red Dipshit even showed up sans red dress for circle.  Tina Eat the Piss graced us with his presence waaaaaay after all festivities had wound down.  

The three good witches of WWWH3 regaled us with tales of interesting sexual experiences, with NBA open-mouthed with disbelief that people actually do those things.  The die-hards crashed at Dip's and were treated to a sumptuous Dip breakfast with bubbly.  Excellent hash, shitty trail.  On on!

Hare: Puff
Location: Harry's Uptown
Trail: A-A
Hounds: Amanta, Tina, Anything Goes, Dip, PP, Anus, nnKatie, nnSarah, nnMike, nnAlex, and nnKim-the-girl-from-Denmark

Tornado Alley H3 prides itself on the diversity of its members. Some of us like to run a lot, some run a little, and some just walk and enjoy the trail.  However, with tonight’s trail, Puff made everyone an accomplished ultra-runner. 

Trail started innocently enough at Harry’s on Douglas and Hillside.  It followed a pretty straight path to the Hare’s house for the first and only BN, where the FRBs caught him leaving.  After the BN, trail headed northeast, across Oliver, for about a mile, where Amanta was accosted by a dickhole security guard at the VA.  There were a couple of pretty brutal YBF/CBs along the way, which were mysteriously in a different color of chalk than the white dildo the hare was carrying; hmmm.  Anus called him out in circle, but he presented all three colors, so he was prepared.  

On our Tuesday night marathon, 3rd St. represented mile 6 to mile 23.  We started east of Oliver and almost hit Hillside before we altered our course.  And what’s more, the FRBs could see Puff the entire time. They didn’t want to discourage him, so they kept their distance, but his checks and intersections were certainly not doing any good because they were watching him lay them (see picture).  However, there was plenty of gratuitous whistle-blowing to ensure that he kept his asshole properly puckered. 

Finally, trail ended at NBA’s (who wasn’t with us) house, where hounds were supposed to wave to her or something, even though she was in Colorado holding her 3rd generation hasher.  There was a note to “Go back to Harry’s” for the ONIN, which prompted the FRBs to bust out their technology and inform other hashers to stop following trail to NBA’s and just head to the bar.

Once we finally all sat down, it was almost 9:00; pretty late for a weeknight hash.  But we still managed to have a full circle in which everyone laid shit on Puff pretty thick.  It was nice to be a part of the latest weeknight circle, ever! 

It was the shittiest of trails, but actually pretty good; just long.  Everyone froze their asses off for what will hopefully be the last time until November. 

See everyone at the Red Dress! 

ONON!