Hashers,

For those of you who weren't even there, here's a recap of this
weekend's festivities.

Deep, Cum Silent, and Sir Humpsalot made their way up to Frasier early
on Friday afternoon.  There they gathered supplies and turned up the
Crooked Creek Rd, seeking a suitable campsite among the trees at a
junction 11 or more miles distant.  They discovered a cowshit-ridden
clearing and made it their own, recreating Deep's patio at 10,000 ft. 
They wandered off into the woods to have a look about, then returned to
a strange blue chair owned by a strange old hasher by the name of Tight
Spotted Pussy, who was lured off of US40 on his way to Steamboat by the
siren call of cold beer.  Rains ensued, and alcohol was consumed with
abandon.  After the precipitation attenuated to a light drizzle, a fire
was started with white gas and kindling in the form of TSP's knuckle
hair.  Sometime later, Freudian, Cummy, Hairy and Tripp (unnamed) joined
the merrymaking, which finally wound down sometime early Saturday
morning.  Deep and Cum Silent woke up at the "crack" of dawn and once
again traipsed into the woods to stash some supplies.  There they
encountered a bewildered Sinbad and led her back to her vehicle and then
the pack.  After taking care of business, the hares returned to a pack
bolstered by the arrival of Router, Menagerie, Port, Half-Cocked, Two
Holes, Four Stroke and Jordan (unnamed), and without much further ado,
dropped powder and bolted.  The trail led across a meadow, highlighting
the many large cowshits there, then into a dense wood, where frequent
DPs and close powders eventually led the pack back to a dirt road.  A
6-way hub slowed the pack briefly, but they soon sniffed out true trail
across a culvert and open space, where they were unwittingly spied by
Deep as he crouched on a nearby (low) ridge.  Two Holes led the charge
with a cunning shortcut to the south, while TT and the rest of the pack
wound about the woods to the north, eventually stumbling their way into
a network of ATV trails.  Two Holes was titillated by a hint of
countback, then discovered the real CB up the trail a ways.  The trail
dropped off the ridgeline, then along its side for a ways to an opening,
where the hares spied Two Holes and Router from across the valley.  Two
Holes spoke of feeling like he was being watched, surveyed the area for
a moment, then plunged down the hill toward another road and a creek. 
Router and Jordan (unnamed) joined him, and they soon puzzled out a DP
and bypassed a CB to cross a brushy meadow to the finish.  The rest of
the pack was in within 5 minutes and beers were cracked.  A short
walk/drive/spine-shattering-pickup-ride brought the hashers back to
camp.

A BBQ ensued, during which the pack gorged themselves on wieners and hot
beef.  Despite a call for "steak down-downs", everyone reached for cups,
and down-downs ensued, as they are want to.  On a sunny afternoon at
altitude, nearly 60 songs were sung, some rather badly, and everyone
with any inclination to get trashed got trashed.  There was one naming
to note.  The canine hasher formerly known as Jordan (unnamed) now
doesn't answer to Sir Glad He Had (A Pillow) either.  There was one
renaming to note as well.  The hasher former known as Hairy Rim has
gained himself the new moniker Pukahontas, a name well-earned.

After a communal power nap, the hashers emerged from their tents once
more to continue the swilling, all hashers with the exception of
Pukahontas and his virgin Tripp (unnamed), who "took it slow because it
hurts" for some time more.  Marshmallows were roasted over a raging
inferno, while our brief hash history was reminisced and "night logs"
were discussed - shoulda been there, Shit.  Deep downed two sweet and
sour tequila shots while the pack looked on in admiration, then was
sorely disappointed when none but Cummy joined him in this special sort
of revelry.  It is clear that the Flatlander puss factor is extremely
high and must be combatted in future events with extreme vigor. 
Astronomical observations ranging from moonshadows to the Perseid meteor
shower were made, and hashers eventually retired to their tents, leaving
Sinbad to guard the night log.  The hash weekend wrapped up with a
subset visiting Sharky's in Frasier for some well-deserved grease on
Sunday morning.

Next hash is a pickup hash in two weeks, to be organized by Cum Silent.

Next camping hash will likely be in the spring or fall in the badlands
underneath the Book Cliffs outside of Grand Junction.  There has also
been a talk of TSP haring in the Pawnee Nat'l Grassland, so stay tuned.

On-on,
Deep