PRINCETON HHH HASH #561.4 Date: Wed, June 26,1996 Weather: none to speak of Venue: Quaker Rd, Stony Brook, The institute woods, golf course, canal Time: 1:22 Set By: mystery hare Hashers: TFM, 242, Table Toes, Trash Can, Mikewithstillnoname, Craig Webster Rookies: Where have they gone? It is with great regret and unspeakable sadness that I must report that our friend, cohort, bright-hearted spirit, hasher extraordinaire, Sara "Likes It" Smith was tragically killed in a car accident a few weeks ago. Sara was so special to us, it's unfathomable to think of her as gone. Perhaps Sara's most striking quality is that she was impossible not to like - a quality unique among Princeton hashers, and certainly hashers worldwide. Sara hashed with us from the spring of 1994 until leaving for grad school the next year, bringing to us the likes of Trash Can and Dry Martinez. Those who knew "Likes It", who remember her unforgettable naming by Dr. No in the Geezer's backyard, who remember her unflinching virgin down-down, and who remember the countless times her laughter filled the air at a PHHH apres - will miss her so so much. Here's to you, Likes It, you're true blue, and remembered, always, with love. A letter to her family from the PH3 is being planned. Description, polemics, comments, and lies: 5 of the six began by pondering a map in the Stevenson parking lot with an "X" in the bend in Quaker Rd, where it comes upon the canal and the inscribed words "I still Like It". The meager pack of bravado whimps began west through the usual knee deep exotic black mud shiggy of the mangrove swamps, then north into the jungle. All 6 were lured by a false trail across the treacherous Victoria Falls of Stony Brook, but miraculously returned without mishap - to a shriek which split the din of the jungle itself in half: "help me, I'm stuck.". The La Brea Tar Pits! - as if with some menacing intelligence, simultaneously sucked Mike into it's collection of prehistorics, while attempting to subdue his rescuers with a belching of sulfurous asphyxiants. However, as fate would this time have it, 242 nimbly came to the rescue with a divine demonstration of water walking. Northward, across savannas, and again into jungle, our group came to the edge of a gaping chasm and stopped to ponder the dangers below. But the mark on the opposite cliff was visible and 242 was air borne, this time demonstrating no divinity whatsoever, as he hurled himself into the abyss. Happily, CraigW swam The Gorge, scaled the opposing wall and hauled the flailing 242 to safety with table toes clinging to his haunches. On Quaker Rd. again, the trail turned south. The deliriously jet lagged Trash Can set off back to the start, swearing he could smell beer - and right he might have been - but this grueling odyssey was not finished - not nearly. The group plunged back into the dense Institute Everglades, eastward. And, dapper as they were at this point, there was only one place left for these chaps to patronize... The "Club" - and it was a lovely day. The merry ensemble jaunted west between the 3rd (waving to Dr. Rockwell) and the 5th (Smiles from Jim Nicolson, entertaining his coworkers from Solomon Brothers). They waited to cross the fairway of the 10th, as Mr. Kennedy played through. After this deplorable lack of any proper hashing etiquette, the black mud of a stream crossing was just what the Dr. ordered to return the taste to their mouths. Cursing that no ossifer was there to chase them, the dogged gang crashed through and on the the Apres. And wonderful it was that Trash Can's nose had not betrayed him - a mere 20 meters stood between them and the cars... 20 meters of stagnant canal. A down down was downed for Likes It and an apology given for the meager participation of singers. However, the hash was NOT meager - "This was the best hash if my life... I want to kill whoever, set it"... or whatever. A quick swim and a drive brought the Apres to Chateau 242, in the chamber is which all participants were showered, powdered and dressed in the height of fashion. Ambrosia and Fine spirits were consumed as social protocol took over with a dabbling of philosophical intelligentsia long reputed as typifying the Princeton Hashers - "Hey, pull my finger." NOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENTOENOTENOTE The hashnet has proved too maniacal to continue at this time. Post all hash info to dan%cdi@princeton.edu and it will be forwarded. NOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENOTENTOENOTENOTE Next Hashes: SIGN UP NOW AND GET THE DATE YOU WANT!!!! dan%cdi@princeton.edu #562.4 WEDNESDAY JULY 3 - 6PM - TFM Sets #563.4 WEDNESDAY JULY 10 - 6PM - A.G.Zaire Sets #564.4 WEDNESDAY JULY 17 - 6PM - ??? sets #565.4 WEDNESDAY JULY 24 - 6PM - Throatwarbler Sets #566.4 WEDNESDAY JULY 31 - 6PM - ??? Sets #567.4 WEDNESDAY AUG 7 - 6PM - ??? Sets #568.4 WEDNESDAY AUG 14 - 6PM - ??? Sets #569.4 WEDNESDAY AUG 21 - 6PM - ??? Sets #570.4 WEDNESDAY AUG 28 - 6PM - ??? Sets