R2H3 Trail Trash #117

R2H3 #117 Trail Trash

R2H3 Trail Trash #117 - Invasion of the Black Sheep H3 Black Rock Campout

After it was put to the pack during circle of Trail #116, the votes were tallied and overwhelmingly the pack had voted to invade the Black Sheep H3 Black Rock Campout for trail #117. This sounded like a great idea and we got all the deets out best we knew how.

March 11 approached and it appeared that only three Romans would take up the offer. So with that, CBT and Hugh Heifer got in the Hash mobile and charged up to Hiawassee, Georgia to meet up with proxy Roman Aw Burnt Out. A quick stop at the silliest gas station in Georgia (Buckee's) and then another at Grumpy Old Men Brewing put us at Burnt's door a bit before 9PM. Burnt was not shy to share beers with us before we retired to bed in the wee hours of the morning.

The next day none of us was in a hurry so after some leisurely coffee and donuts, Burnt brought us up to the top of Bell Mountain to enjoy the views. Then we stopped at Hiawassee Brewing for lunch and a refreshment. During lunch Burnt threatened us with a local growler store so we felt obligated to make that stop.

Once at Bacchus on the Lake Bottle Shop and Growler we were seemingly kidnapped by a beer rep who had completed his rounds and was adamant that we join him and the owner for adventure drinking. That is trying a couple ounces of some seriously high strength beers of all kinds. Two hours later we were back underway having made a significant dent in our wallets and our livers' life span.

Back at Burnt's we got packed up and made the quick 45 minute trip to the top of Black Rock Mountain and Black Rock Mountain State Park where the Black Sheepers had already begun to convene.

Once there we passed the newly renovated cabins (which are lovely by the way) along Black Rock Mountain Parkway and then headed down Pioneer Road to the group campsite. This was a pretty nice spot well away from other campers. It had some lean-to shelters and a cabin with electricity and a wood stove and fridge, as well as a big fire ring and plenty of wood to burn.

We got set up and after taking a work phone call I was able to quickly get on trail for the BSH3 Founder's Day trail that started at about 7PM. The pack gave chase and the two hares took us down a creek before banging a hard right and making us crawl hands and feet up the steepest of inclines. We encountered some sort of structure that appeared to be the entrance to either a mine shaft, under ground bunker or hell itself before continuing uphill. I was able to hang with the FRBs for a bit but they made distance on that exhaustive uphill. (This would prove to be just a taste of what we would be doing on day two.) Once back at the camp on the short A to A trail we put on warmer clothes and rain gear as the damp clouds engulfed us. There was no worry however as the fire was burning hot. Circle was done and the ass ice was salvaged for the next day. Then we ate some delicious lasagna and drank beers.

As 10pm came around the Mattress of Ceremonies for the Shooting Star Hash, Glory Mole, mustered the campers who would travel the campground for five shots of something with mango, something with apple, something with BPJ, and something else. You see, this is when the facts get blurry.

Suddenly, I awoke (fully clothed) to a torrential downpour and significant winds while inside my rooftop canvas condominium. Rumor has it this would have been about 6am. I rolled over and it was confirmed the tent was of fine quality as CBT and I remained dry.

Lunch was the much anticipated chili cookoff. I think there were nearly 10 chilis to try. The hottest was Pussy Pilot's who admitted his hot peppers may have been mislabeled as mediums. Breach My Peace had provided goat chili and Glory Mole a Wee Little Bit a vegetarian. There were a couple white chilis too. And mine made from venison and a recipe that I got from a friend 25 years ago. Deposit Slit had copied the recipe as I had shared it with her some while go. Winners would be announced at circle.

So. Trail number three for the weekend: Let me just say that 40 mile per hour wind gusts atop a mountain that is already in the 30s could be considered crippling but since we are Hashers, three hours of bipedal motion would serve us well to keep us heated. The start was Black Mountain Lake. Hares were away as the wind forced whitecaps across the nearly frozen lake and the runners were away chasing Burnt Rubber through a small cemetery and around the far side of the lake. Walkers had a differing adventure which I can only summarize as a brief walk around the lake before they relocated to another trail for a mile walk and then a visit to Currahee Brewing. Mileage may differ. This while the sinister hares focused on the usual misadventures for the runners. Once around the lake yours truly and Fuckeye found the first check and I chose poorly. Seems I went up the wrong side of a creek and not wanting to get my feet wet right out of the gate on such a frigid day I had to make my way back to the check before recovering. I was pretty certain this was to cause me a lonely day until Always Cums First and I converged. He apparently was using trail markings (TP) to clean himself off after having consumed every type of available chili. Come to think of it, I was re-tasting a few myself. We got to the third check and found the pack was a mess. Someone thought ON was called and that threw everyone into a tizzy and in the wrong d'erections. I was feeling a bit despondent and was in disbelief of the call so I jogged up the road a couple hundred yards. Behold, trail in the woods along the road. I called ON and the pack was apparently far enough behind me I was able to maintain position as FRB for long enough that I was re-energized. But then the hills really started.

Up we all went, then down, then up again. By this time the pack was catching up and my old trail buddy Fuckeye joined me as Always Cums First put on the jets and disappeared into the wood.

We meandered in the woods and ever increasing steepness of the mountain until we finally hit Pioneer Road. As we chatted about our impending retirements we noticed trail was going off into the woods and onto a powerline cut. I made my way to it and Fuckeye asked me why in the world this late in the game I would feel so adventurous. I shrugged and said it was where trail went and I hit the cut. While he recognized that over two and a half decades had made me no better a hasher than any virgin he still did not follow. Go figure. After all, I did identify steep terrain as such throughout the day. It turned out the power line cut was a little shorted than Pioneer Road and I got to finish shortly before Fuckeye but apparently well after Always Cums First.

As it had been unrelentingly chili in the breeze, I made my way to the tent to get into something more weather appropriate and loaded up on layers. The remaining pack meandered in and we circled. The first order of business was to demean the hares for the shitty trail. The second? Demean Foreign Lesion for having no life and completing his 400th Black Sheep. Hilarity ensued as every bit of birthday cake fixings that were to be gently placed upon Foreign's body landed elsewhere. Except the frozen eggs - they made their mark atop his head. Cake mix was on the Hashmaster, flour was on the dogs and any unsuspecting other hound, syrup runneth over but faux feathers (aka strange bird hair) would not stick as the wind changed just as they were to be applied to the sticky mess. Foreign took it like a man only making me pray that if I make it to 400 it happens in the summer near a lake.

As circle wore on, I learned I had actually won the chili cookoff and awarded a bottle of bubbly and three free Black Sheep trails. Then finally the DFL Double Suk made it in. Seems she had been so far back when I had called on at that third check she just never made up ground and without a trail buddy, solving the checks became even that more of a challenge. But she was safe and in great spirits as she arrived. Seems the last few thousand feet of elevation gain had kept any bad feelings at bay! Everyone's sense of humor prevailed and finally, we swung low just as the wind subsided.

Now that is not all. Dinner was pulled pork conjured up by JackAss and heated up by Davey Crochet and ChooChoo. We finished what remained of the shots from the night prior and at some point in the night, I joined CBT in the sky condo. We were able to keep plenty warm even despite the 13 degree temp that froze anything that lacked a pulse. Even alcohol was turning to Slurpee it was so cold.

The next morning we all helped clean up to leave just memories at the campsite. Hugs all around and we were on-out! Just under three hours later we were home and cleaning off the weekend. And what a delightful weekend it was. Good friends, good food, good beer and great trail.

Next trail for the R2H3 is scheduled for April 9 but we currently have no hare. Post up if you want to hare and I will be glad to collect the beer from the former Beermeister. There has been nobody voicing opinions on Mismanagement so without that, well.... May 14 is Founder's Day. Stay tuned for the details. And remember, "Hashing is fun, see you on trail!"