Hares Coitus
Preamble
The Best of Plans Go Unlaid

Gutsy Call Coitus -On a snowy Sunday a week ago Coitus hit on a bright idea to set a hash run at one of the higher elevation points in Portland secretly relishing that Portland had been on the cusp of snow for the past week. On scouting Sunday he secretly hailed a cab for the first time in his life and told the cab driver to drop him off him off at the nastiest snowiest place in Portland. It was his dime and the cabby was paid to drive. After an hour, the cab driver pushed him out of the cab atop skyline drive (after Coitus had consumed a 12 pack in the the back seat of the cab while watching porno and eating Cheetos) and Coitus set out scouting this run. He exited the car with with a few bags of Cheetos and some tape he had stolen from the back seat of the cab. 

Upon exiting the cab to verbal slurs from the Cabbie, Coitus soon lost his footing sending him over a bank on skyline drive. Coitus literally fell for 10 minutes straight rolling down the hill, through sticker bushes and fallen branches. He got up again and tried to walk but then fell again careening down boulders and streams and he finally came to a sudden halt in his descent as he landed in a mystical house in the middle of the woods. He got up shaken and a bit perplexed. He had lost half of his Cheetos and as he looked back some of the tape he had stolen must have have stuck to the trees. He stammered to himself and a light radiated on him through the deep wooded canopy, He had just stumbled upon trail for this week. 

Snow Falling on Cheetos

Yes he set the trail by stumbling drunkenly down the hill. It was part genius, part folly and the rest lugubrious luck. We had to follow that mess for the night. Just Kate, Chubby Chaser and three Canadians from the Yukon set out to catch Coitus but they were following the road. As the rain turned to snow, Mutt Fuc*ker and Diddler on the Roof must have made the same fatal mistake as our hare as we were soon in the middle of nowhere fighting through brambles and newly formed ankle deep streams. The mixed rain and large snow flakes made vision nearly impossible. We were cold to the core and as we reached a shack in the middle of the woods flaming Fart yelled  through Frost bitten lips; "Its a Perfect Day to Hash"

The Shack

Cums Liberally led the pack (attired in a brides maid dress) to a shack in the middle of  Forest park. The Cuntesss and Tard Core entered the shack with holly berries in odd places and proceeded to open cold beers for everybody. Sitting in a shack ,with steam rising from our bodies. in rain and snow drinking beer as an old bat on the top of the hill threatened to call the police was a picture perfect post card of hashing in Oregon.  Who could ask for a better night.

That is the signature of Kahuna runs. Old bats yelling at us and of course (no correlation that Mystery Meat was on trail) the usual run ins with the police. But that's old hat, as LittleButBuddy and Snuggle my PeePee told the police what they wanted to hear. Something about us selling Girl Scout cookies to benefit the Boy Scouts. He did not buy this scrupulous story. But, that policeman was fatter than Tonia Harding a week ago and he wasn't going to get out his car and chase us anytime soon.

So we finished the trail without incident. The snow had turned back to rain and we were all wet in all the right places.

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