PRINCETON HHH Hash #471.4

DATE: Wednesday, August 31, 1994
SET BY:	Wacko AAAGGGAAAIIN?!?!
HASHERS: Wrong Way, Sarah Smith, 242, John Young, LFBB, Throatwarbler M
WEATHER: Poifect
VENUE:	Where North Post Rd. meets the lake in Mercer County Park east
        back and forth across the power lines to Edinburg Rd. and then
        looping back to Toxic Waste's house.

A Strange Sense of "Deja Mud"!

Description:  The bitter dregs of evening hashing had once again arrived.
The dreaded pre-equinox nighttime hash was upon us, and only the veteran
subset of this already compact pack had the wit to be nervous.  Images of
staggering blindly amidst dense forests, man-eating thorns, and rapacious
insects as the last vestiges of twilight dwindled away...fleeting memories
of the infamous Starlight Hash of Hand Solo...none of these disturbing 
premonitions could be dispelled, even by the arrival of the hashvan on
the familiar shores of the famous Lac du Mercer County Park.

As Wacko faded into the trees, bucket in hand, for what must be his umpteenth
live hare set, several questions plagued the members of the pack.  Should they
wait the agreed-upon 7.5 minutes or give him a full eight?  Should they have
eaten, brought flashlights, or taken out more insurance?  And why shouldn't
they just run down the firebreak to Andy's house, doubtless beating Wacko
by a full twenty minutes?

OK, so there wasn't a whole lot of suspense in this one, except the normal 
suspension of rational thought that goes along with hashing.  But we had to
see a) how low Wacko would sink in his attempt to punish the pack and b) 
whether John could finally get a hashname.  In pursuit of this and other 
mysteries, we went pounding down long winding trails bored through the foliage,
brushing aside Wacko's pathetic deceptions and regroups.  But we hand not
counted on the fearless lunacy (or blind panic) of the Wacky One's live hare
setting, as the trail plunged through batch after batch of nameless, soulless,
stinking, sneaker-sucking mud.

Looping back and forth across the power line gave us a chance to pound some
of the stuff out of our shoes, but even a side trip around the Unnamed Pond
couldn't entirely dry the feet out.  Besides, Wacko kept finding new shiggy
to drag the pack through: by the fifth such morass, John, feeling the -  
tug of the Muse of Hash Poetry - said "I've got an incredible feeling of
Deja Mud!" ( a hashname? convene the committee!).  But, as with many hashes,
an hour of slogging and slashing resolved itself with a minute or two of
frenzied activity, as the trail led inexorably closer to chateau Kaufman.
242, new to the neighborhood, bit on the infamous "last false trail" laid
by Wacko, leaving LFBB, Wrong Way, and the Warbler chugging through a sub-
urban subdivision, with the Warbler steadfastly refusing to divulge the 
location of Toxic Waste's domicile (hell, if you have no knees, no wind, and
rusty hash instincts, why give up inside information?).  But the pack soon
straggled in to the welcome sight of beer, chips, a hose to peel off layers
of dried ooze, and a pool to toss the hare into to commemorate and exception-
ally shitty live hare set.

NEXT HASHES:  
  SUNDAY September 11	2PM	LFBB and RoJo set
  SUNDAY September 18	2PM	Need a volunteer
  SUNDAY September 25   2PM     Throat Warbler sets