Hashers,

For those of you who weren't even there, and there were many of you,
here's what happened.

The pack rallied itself at Two Holes' place in Louisville at 2pm this
Labor Day.  There were several returners, and BlowsHis was resplendent
in his tricked out flying shitstud.  Or we imagined him to be, since he
was in transit from Boulder to Louisville, having forgotten the award at
home, when we got going.  Mt Hood and Two Holes took off, spraying
powder everywhere.  After a rousing school session led by Router, the
pack lumbered off in pursuit.  As usual, Cum Silent and Deep took their
first shortcut not 5 powders into the trail, and it paid off for them
and those that followed, namely Piper (unnamed).  A long slog uphill put
the dastardly SCBs at the mean end of a CB30, which they promptly
skipped to continue their long slog uphill.  The rest of the pack,
meanwhile, was nipping at our heels and taking lesser shortcuts of their
own, not to be left behind.  At the crest of the hill, Deep and Cum
Silent found trail, and a few powders to the south found Cum Silent
muttering something about "recon".  He was not spotted again until he
wandered into a beer check, late, bloody and covered with gopher shit. 
While Deep and Humpsalot plodded along trail, having learned a valuable
lesson about gluing themselves to trail after successful shortcutting,
Piper (unnamed) and Jess (unnamed) overtook them, and the foursome
investigated a clever DP.  Piper (unnamed) was coerced into heading well
off trail to the west toward some nice trails around Harper Lake, and
was also not seen for a good long while, as the nice trails did not show
a trace of powder.  Jess (unnamed) and Deep rolled downhill through a
prairie dog community.  Humpsalot explored every bad trail into a
prairie dog hole, which undoubtedly saved the rest of the pack much
valuable time.  In the next neighborhood, Jess (unnamed) repeatedly
guessed correctly, losing Deep, who was overtaken by Toukan (unnamed)
and Puss in Boots.  Jess (unnamed) finally met her match in the form of
a CB6, which plunged the hapless pack into a long, shiggy-infested
ditch.  Lacking machetes, the pack beat a makeshift trail through the
neck high brambles with sweat and tears.  This was when, coming around a
corner, Neil (unnamed) and Michelle (unnamed) noticed a BVC on the
ground, then very nearly decapitated themselves on a strand of barb wire
mercilessly strung across trail at "head" level.  Bad hares!  Some more
ditchwork and several more tangles with BlowsHis-ensnaring barbed wire
deposited the pack at a beer check in a nice driveway in a cul de sac. 
The pack was in a mood as they watched BlowsHis lope past the check on
his way to a CB11, but Deep took pity and called him back after only 5
powders or so.  The second section of trail led the pack over the river
and through the woods, not quite to grandmother's house, but close.  It
flirted with old town Louisville, but rejected it in favor of running
over trail already laid in the first half.  BlowsHis was irate when he
encountered a giant flour arrow laid in a 5k [race] the day before,
which led him astray.  We followed double true trail arrows to the
finish, predictably an A to almost A format.  Nevertheless, it was
satisfying to find the finish shovel (?) and get down to business.

Down-downs ensued, as they are want to.  Many mealy mouths were turned
blue with some sort of magic Oreos, while thirsts were quenched with an
assortment of decent beers, including Oregon IPA, Warsteiner, and a
Flatlander favorite, Trail Stash.  Songs were sung, crude jokes were
cracked, and Piper (unnamed) was named.  His naming is a landmark, for
not only did it take a mere 3 minutes, but he is the first hasher we've
named as a sound effect.  The halfmind formerly known as Piper (unnamed)
shall now be identified as "Whp-chshh".  (It was decided that the
spelling should not feature any vowels, and so this is as close as the
editor could get to reproducing the effect.  Note that his name is not
actually Whp-chshh, but rather the sound effect it represents.)  Neil
(unnamed) won the shitstud for being accused of exposing himself to a 4
year old girl suspected of being a secret hare.  An ice block which took
much work to procure showed up for guerilla down-downs, and many bare
and a few clothed asses were made red.  BlowsHis gave up his cheeks for
20 verses of Chicago, a Herculean effort and one to be praised.

On-afters ensued at Two Holes' place nearby.  Deep was blitzed to the
point of extreme and uncalled-for obnoxiousness.  There was toe-biting
and lots of crudeness before he was finally dragged off and put to bed. 
Whatever else may or may not have happened will not be recorded here.

BFHHH #15 will take place in roughly two weeks, hared by Router and Jizz
Whiz.  3 members of the hash mismanagement will be missing, so Router is
taking a poll as to who actually plans on showing up to see if he has
critical mass.  The two times offered are Friday evening 6pm and
Saturday afternoon.  Let him know if you think you will be there.

On-on,
Deep