The third gathering of Tucson's biking wankers met Sunday, December 17 at Shooters Steakhouse.Seventeen of us wankers set our watches as the two hares, Cockstalker and Master Meat Finder took off on their road bikes.Being a chilly day, we sported all kinds of biking attire; from shorts, to tights, to sweatpants, to jeans (and rash cream). The hares asked for 15 minutes; they needed some time to figure out how to get our sorry asses across Saturday's jHavelina hash markings without getting too confused.Bimbo was the Trail Troll, she received a phone call from the hares who gave directions where to pick up trail. We had a fantastic start, but we were in for quite a trail cluster-you-know-what ahead!
We wound around the same neighborhoods, logging in miles upon miles of extra pedaling, actually working up a sweat (what the hell was THAT all about?).Even the front riders lost their enthusiasm to win.I know I said more than five times, "Haven't our sorry asses been on this street before?"Having multiple intersections with multiple trail markings from what seemed like ten different hash trails, I know most of us mumbled, "Which way did we come from...and where the hell are we going?" Okay, maybe it was just me who mumbled it. However, we all seemed to have lost our heads from our saddle-sore glutes, from not knowing whose trail we were on.Many factors were at stake; one hare used pink chalk which blended into the street, the other hare used white chalk but wrote lightly on the cement.Riding at break-neck speed, we missed almost every decision point and had to back track at a snail's pace so we could find the markings. Our dehydration from lack of beer slowed us down, and so did the speed bumps that we rode over and over and over again.Is It In Yet from Phoenix was shaking his head while wondering where on God's Green Earth the beer check was, and why we had biked 50,000 miles without a stop.I Love Fat Chicks said something about he could sketch this trail using "Spin Art" or a Spirograph tool (if you're younger than 35 you wouldn't get that one).Zippity had convinced his very-serious cycling brother (Just Mark), into joining our dynamic hashing group; and I'm sure he was wondering just what the hell this cluster-F biking was all about after passing the same school twenty times.I am assuming Zippity will get a flaming piece of Reindeer poo in his family stocking this year for Christmas.I know I felt silly after convincing Plush Toy to come out of his 10-year hiatus to hash once again; I even brought my spare antique 12-speed for him to ride.Funny I remember telling him the night before that it would be a breeze...I'm sure I'll get some dog poo smeared on my Christmas card from him now.I think we were getting a bit dilerious from lack of beer, as Fat Chicks started singing, "I see London, I see France...I see Booger's biking pants."Thank you Fatty, for making seventeen of us crazed-wankers look at Booger's butt.Yes, he had panty lines.
We finally reached the beer check at Chuy's...it was quite the site seeing us take over the patio with nineteen bikes lined up along the wall.As we drank beer and margaritas, the hares were off and demanded 20 minutes.Twenty minintes! Are you kidding me?After riding down the wrong side of streets, on sidewalks, in crosswalks and over the same powder marks for what seemed to be five hours; we gave them FIVE minutes!We were fooled by a "German check"as we rode up to Bavarian's house and he wasn't home; neither was the beer from the night before.Okay, that wasn't funny.I was hoping for a german sexual favor, or at least a beer...but we all got squat.So we rode up to a shot check, and much to our surprise the shot was some strawberry nasty goop in foil...some extra carbs for the ride home.What the hell?I thought we were hashing! The carbs I put on my ass during a hash better be from alcohol! Master Meat Finder was next to tears with hands on her hips, as she self-declared the hares dead; not realizing that giving up is the worst thing a hare can do.That reputation is hard to shake, especially when you tell someone from out of town to "...just go back to start." Uh...okay. So Is It In Yet from Phoenix stuck close to Bimbo's black spandex-covered glutes and followed her home.Literally.The rest of us got directions from the other hare and made it to finish...uh, what should have been "finish" but wasn't marked....ooh, the hares were snared!
We were joined by other hashers who were too hung-over to ride with us, but made it to the on-afters (Didja Bite My Penis, S&M&M, Arthur Gash, Bavarian Creme, Pappa Don't Peek, and Tonya the meatflapper).The founders of the bike hash, Bimbo by Day and myself (Casual Friday) declared new status as "Grand Mattresses;" as we were told we have the reputation to back it up.A few awards were given, the Shit Award went to the hares for so many reasons, the Bitch Award was a drink-off between Fatty bitching about Booger's panty lines and the pack for so many reasons.The Best Dressed award was a drink-off between Just Greg for wearing jeans and a raw nutsack, and Booger for wearing tights (Good God Almighty!) and panty lines. Between swills of beer, Booger promised he wouldn't wear underwear next time. We had three virgin cycling wankers, Plush Toy, Just Mark, and Is It In Yet.We know at least one of them will return, as Plush Toy volunteered for February's bike haring, and will be joined by Cockstalker who would like a chance to redeem his haring reputation.
Speaking of haring, here's a few tips...hash trails are like sex (as 3IY explained to me)...you need lots of it, and some will not be so-perfect to make the other ones awsome. Hmmm...makes sense to me. Does this mean this was a whiskey-dick hash? Of course we all know a day spent hashing beats any other kind of day, good or bad. Another tip; hares should stash colored chalk for two reasons; to change the color of booby-cleavage and butt-cracks while haring, as well as create a "Plan B" (marking true trails over-rides all other hash markings) for when things don't go as planned (i.e., running out of powder or crossing old hash trails--in white).Hares should stick to city cycling rules, keeping wankers on the right side of the road riding with traffic and off the sidewalks in order to keep the pack safe and legal.The pack might want to think about walking their bikes in the crosswalks as it is a moving violation to ride a bike in a crosswalk, and wanks can collect a hefty fine from the men in blue.This is all very similar to having a (running) hash tradition of not cutting through private property for safety and legality reasons.
All wankers had a great time, and want to thank the owners of Shooters Steakhouse, Rusty and Marcy for making us sing songs to them until they laughed.I want to thank the following wankers for showing up to bike the hash and making the day a fun one; Master Meat Finder (hare), Cockstalker (hare), Just Mark, Just Greg, Plush Toy, Yoda, Appendage, Flying Booger, Asshole in El Paso, Tour De Bone, Jiffy Cocks, Zippity, Deep Dish, I Love Fat Chicks, Inhercuntinental Missle (ICM), Is It In Yet (3IY), Red Headed Woodpecker, Bimbo By Day and Casual Friday (that's me!).Through much finger pointing, eye rolling and beer drinking, we came up with names for the hash; some of them being Rim Riders, Sluts on Wheels, Road Hard and Put Up Wet, and Numbnuts (good for a gentlemen's biking hash!).The name of choice for Tucson's elite biking hash is now known as "Pedalfiles."Nice.I knew we would come up with something I can't tell my mom.
January's hash is the 21st and the hares are Flying Booger and Casual Friday.February's hash will be hared by Plush Toy and Cockstalker on Sunday, February 18.If you don't have a bike, stop being a cheap-ass and buy one, for crying out loud! Join the fun wanker!
ON-get on your bikes and ride-ON! Casual Friday Add Comment
I did enjoy the ride. Keep in mind that bike hashing is new to some of us. The trail was fun and nobody got lost (all that forthing & backing, I suppose). The pack stayed together which doesn't always happen. Although, luring us on with the promise of what I took to be jello shots was underhanded. Just Mark did have a good time, however, nobody's heard from him since.
Woohoo, a socially unacceptable name - excellent. Wish I could have made the turd gathering it sounds like it was great fun. Unfortunately, Just Karen won't let me on the bike until my broken elbow is healed. Sheesh, one would think she expects me to fall down (again).
On - On,
STV
