For those of you who weren't even there, here's a recap of the
festivities up in Breck, as best I can piece them together.

After a morning of varied activities, ranging from boarding to shopping
for cookware to catching up on needed sleep, eleven halfminds gathered
around the corner from the condo at the Breck Brewery, where they ran
into EagerGetsNoBeaver (henceforth referred to as "The Beav"), who had
made the trek over from a half day at Vail.  Straws had been drawn, and
Shaven earned the privilige of haring the first leg, with Router towing
the shit.  Naturally she took off downhill, as would any self-respecting
Flatlander, and after a brief pause, the pack set off in pursuit of her
fluorescent droppings.  The trail snaked through the neighborhood just
to the west of Main, through yards and around condos, seeking deep snow
and tall drifts at every turn.  When the Beav finally caught up with
her, we had nearly made it all the way to Keystone, so he snaked the
trail back on itself with a ballsy trespass through deep snow back up
the hill.  The pack fanned out, and with calls of "hare sited!" managed
to set up a net.  When the Beav realized he had nowhere to go, he let
Deep make the snare.  Deep led the pack over fences and through drifts,
eschewing common roads for more Escher-like paths, until he used up the
first bag and waited for the resupply.  Loaded down with the return bag,
he vaulted an 8 foot plow drift and made a desperate bid to gain Main
and the sweet treasures on the other side.  He was snared by Ashley
(unnamed) before he could make the leap, and she by Staben (unnamed), as
the trail turned on itself once again and headed back condoward.  Router
snared Staben, and was himself snared by a shortcutting Steve (unnamed)
before even Staben's snare had expired.  Steve (unnamed) led us
gloriously back to the condo over some rough terrain, and down-downs
ensued.  Many many songs were sung, even by our standards, and Router,
Cum Silent and Deep made their best effort to drain a lonely pony keg of
90 Shilling, but came up short.  The Work sisters were sited for
infraction upon infraction, while Router strained to create new painful
verses to old songs.  The Beav and Cum Silent invented the new extreme
sport of loft-climbing, using Router's unconcious body as a boost, then
the pack, minus the stonecold Router and nurse Staben (unnamed), feasted
on the jerk stylings of Rasta Pasta down on Main.  The evening expired
shortly after, though the keg would have to wait several more days
before reaching its end in a series of growlers in Deep's garage -
though not before Router, Cum Silent and Deep made one more good attempt
to kill the thing back in Broomfield.  The growlers are in good hands.

Next hash will be hared by Bush Router and Deep in the End, in
Westminster near 92nd and Wadsworth this coming Saturday at 2pm.  It
sounds like we'll be missing some of our regulars, so if you're on the
fence, please lend your support to the endeavor.  (*cough* Whp-Chshh
*cough*) I will say that true trail will be somewhat terser than the
last one I laid.  That does not speak to bad trail, of course. 
Naturally, beer will be plentiful and of good quality.

On-on,
Deep