The pack gathered in the parking lot behind the courthouse for a trail hared by AuntEater, who was duly blessed with “rainus no soakus.” Sure enough, just as the hare was sent on his way, the skies opened up, and the pack of 3 Hour Whore, Shitter’s Full, Crack Of, Tiny Testes, and Just Rachel were convinced that no marks could survive the deluge. But survive they did (well done, AuntEater!) and the trail followed a bunch of checks and whicyways to a beer check on Center Street, between Petronia and Olivia. After a stop for refreshments, the pack was off again, soon to discover a leapfrog check across Duval. Not only did the soggy frogs leap each other across, but they also got some muggles to join in!

The pack finally arrived at the On In at Cork & Stogie, thoroughly soaked but still parched, and proceeded to quench their thirst with some golden nectar. Even though they made the hare drink for his shitty trail, it all seemed better after some drying off and a few more beers.
​
Thanks to all who showed up! Let’s keep this thing going!!!! 

​AARRGGHH – it be a Pirate Hash! The scurvy rats gathered on the patio at Louie’s Backyard for the annual Conch Republic Hash. There was Captain (hare) Just Chris with his First Mate, Virgin Elizabeth. Seamen Mu-Sick and Just Jim and wenches Thar She Blows and Crack Of made up the balance of this motley crew. The boarding party of VMA, XSNRG, Just Makenzie joined us for a tasty beverage, but had to leave to go swab some decks. 

As we gathered for Chalk Talk on the street, we realized that the hare had no chalk! After scrounging through some buried treasure, the pack soon found a few appropriately chalky rocks. The pack sent the hare on his way, with a mysterious bottle of grog in his backpack. After a few minutes, the pack followed the scent to the first grog stop, thanks to some folks at Southernmost Café, who said “Are you following the pirate? He went thataway!” Just Jim managed to retrieve the sunken treasure from the waters beneath the pier at Southernmost Beach. Blimey, it was a bottle of Kracken Rum!!! After swilling some of the tasty nectar, the pack continued on to an anatomy check near the Southernmost point, and a song check at the marker. The short but sweet trail carried on to another drink stop at Cork and Stogie, where our bartender Just Tim made sure our thirst was quenched.
 
After quaffing our beers, the pack set off down Duval Street. Having heard the hare mention a food stop on trail, the wily wenches attempted a shortcut to Sinz Burritos, but found no trail. So back they went to attempt to catch the seamen, who were actually on trail, and had discovered a hidden beer stop beside St Mary church (except for Just Jim, who blew right by, but was soon recalled through many whistles and yells of “beer near”).  Trail continued on to….Sinz Burritos, where we enjoyed some more tasty grog and grub. 

​Hunger and thirst assuaged, the pack again took out after the hare, posing for a photo stop at Better Than Sex. The seamen again ran on ahead of the wenches, and missed the on right that Virgin Elizabeth spotted, so the ladies were first in to the next beer stop (a few cans sitting beside the road). Then it was On In back to the start, where we held a short circle to welcome new boots and visitors, and award a few down-downs.
 
Many thanks to Just Chris for an awesomely shitty trail to celebrate our independence.  Welcome to new boots Virgin Elizabeth, who will unfortunately miss the next few trails as she will be at sea, and Just Jim from Marathon, who will be joining us whenever he can!

​Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!  The pack gathered for a rare Sunday hash, thanks to that big, beautiful full moon. Newly-elected GM Shitter’s Full was our hare, and promised us a short trail to lead us to the Full Moon Experience party on Higgs Beach. The pack gathered at the Hash House for a bit of prelubing. RA XSNRG rounded up a couple extra folks from Shanna Key, Just Hank (who has hashed with us before) and Virgin Monique. Crack Of, Mu-Sick, and Thar She Blows made up the rest of the pack.
 
After the blessing of the hare, we sent him on his way and continued the prelube. Ten minutes later, we were off in pursuit. Trail wound through the neighborhood south of Atlantic, then headed for the boardwalk to the ocean. Apparently, the pack did a lousy job of marking the checks for our latecummers, Just Chris and Just Elizabeth, because they never found trail after the first check. Sorry about that!  The rest of us headed down the boardwalk for the first beer check. 

​The no-see-ums were out in full force, so we grabbed a quick photo, grabbed the beer and headed (who said?) down the beach toward the next boardwalk. Of course, to get to that boardwalk, there is always that choice between walking in the water (which Mu-Sick did) or climbing up on the seawall at Casa Caselles. Luckily, the couple of residents sitting by the pool said they didn’t mind, so the rest of us kept our feet dry. 

​After a second beer check at the second boardwalk, the trail led us into the neighborhood again, where we wandered around a bit before finally finding the scent. We continued on Atlantic, past the bocce courts to the On In in the parking lot, where we discovered Just Chris and Just Elizabeth, who had given up and gone straight to the on in. Circle commenced, led by our RA, XSNRG. The hare was called in for a shitty trail. Virgin Monique was called into circle and advised of her options and chose Option #3 – yep, she’s a keeper!  Just Hank was welcomed back, FRBs and DFLs were given down-downs. Mile High Molester showed up at circle to claim his KWH3 tshirt which he had paid for at Fantasy Fest, and which saved him from drinking for no hash attire. We all sang swing low and adjourned to the Full Moon Experience across the street, where we ran into Just Makenzie, Conchcebitionist, VMA, and Just Grant. As a gorgeous full moon rose over the water, we listened to some great tunes, watched the fire dancers, ate some amazing jerk chicken, and drank lots more beer. Here’s to Conch Life!!!

No, there was no trail. Just a bunch of hashers sitting around drinking beer. Well, OK, we did do a little singing and lots of conch blowing, practicing for the Conch Blowing contest at Schooner Wharf on Friday, 20 April. We’ll be singing (and blowing) our way through “Gonna Blame it on the DEA” (to the tune of YMCA). 
 
When: Friday, 20 April. Kickoff party starts at 7 pm.
Where: Schooner Wharf
What: We’re singing and blowing conchs. Bring a conch shell if you have one.
Who: Anyone who knows the tune of YMCA and can read words. You don’t have to blow a conch – we need a lot of help with the singing part, too!
Why: It’s the kickoff party for Conch Republic Independence Days. Plus, there’s a chance to win prizes! Oh, and they have beer.
 
 
Also, we held hash Erections. New mismanagement is:
GM: Shitter’s Full
RA: XSNRG
Hare Raiser: Mu-Sick
Hash Trash: Thar She Blows
On Sec: Article 69
Hash Cash: HNIC
Haberdash: Thar She Blows
 
Did I forget anyone?
 
Also, there will be a hash on Saturday, 21 April, starting at noon in Mallory Square, by Meson de Pepe. We have several visiting hashers, some by land and some by sea.  It’ll be short and sweet, because they have to be back on the ship by 4:00 pm. Theme is punk rock (kilts and happi coats). Hare is Thar She Blows 

​OK, now that I’ve got that off my chest, here’s a recap of the trail on Saturday, 21 April 2018. We had visitors in town from a Punk Rock cruise, so the theme was …Punk Rock. Some definitely rocked it more than others. Cindy Bear went all out with pink hair (oh wait, that’s normal) a seatbelt for a belt, and a studded choker. Crack Of was sporting some rockin’ red fishnet stockings. Most of the rest of us had to make do with all the black clothing we could find and a few kilts and happi coats. Our visitors from the ship were RTG and Finnish On My Face from Wildcard hash, Rumply Foreskin, now from some godforsaken place in Ohio where there isn’t even a hash, and Just Jen. TimberBalls joined us all the way from Big Coppitt and Bad Tranny Training and Bad Baby Bear from Geiger Key, and Mu-Sick and Thar She Blows from Key West.
 
The hare, Thar She Blows, realized upon arriving at the start location at Mallory Square that she had neglected to bring chalk, so she kicked Mu-Sick out of the car with the beer cooler and headed back to retrieve some marking materials. Meanwhile, the pack assembled in the shade near Meson de Pepe and commenced prelubing. Thar returned, laid down a hasty chalk talk, and was off like a flash (compared to, say, a snail). The trail had to be short and quick (insert joke here about preferring long and hard) because our visitors had a train to catch. A Conch Train, that is, to get back to the ship, which was docked at the Mole. The trail led through the garden of busts, where the mighty Cindy Bear attempted a flying leap over a concrete bench, only to be betrayed by her knee-high lace-up black Converse shoes, and wound up with a nasty scraped knee to claim first blood on trail. Trail headed toward Front Street, after a check cleverly placed to hint at the possibility of it heading toward Sunset Pier. But no, the first beer stop was at LagerHeads, with its great view of the passing boat traffic, including the motorized tiki 

The hare enjoyed a refreshing beverage with the pack before setting out again, with a note to the pack to look for a photo check, so they could take a photo in front of the Psychiatric Unit Assessment Ward, where Spray-N-Pray was staying (with muggles, who made him go fishing instead of hashing). Yes, this place is real – it’s on Ann St.

​While the hare was on the way to the next stop, she was startled to hear her nerd name called out from a Conch Train, but promptly realized it was S.O.M.S from Wildcard hash, who was doing the tourist thing with his muggles. The pack also got a shout out from him.  Next stop was at Fat Tuesday for jello shots – yum! Then off again to the $2 beer store on Fitzpatrick for another cold beverage and some sandal shopping for Rumply.

​After a social stroll back to Mallory Square, the pack circled up. Mu-Sick filled in as RA, and we proceeded to make the hare drink for a shitty trail (but not for forgetting chalk!), FRB and DFLs, and our NFHN Jen.  It was a short and sweet circle, after which our visitors headed back to their ship. Some others went to Sinz for some deliciousness, while others went to watch the drag races on Duval (where we again met up with SOMS and his crew). All in all a good day on our little island!

Well, there I was.  Prelubing at the hash bar (formerly known as the Cork and Stogie), with 3 Hour Whore and her virgin (hahaha, I couldn't keep a straight face when I typed that) when I casually asked the co-hare if he was ready for tonight.  To which Just Tim replied with an emotional, "No!  I have no idea what the f*ck is going on."  I stared blankly at him for a moment in disbelief, but then I remembered he was coharing with Shiggy Shave-Her.  I patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of commiseration and quickly moved away to grab a beer and sit outside on the porch to watch the shitshow begin.  

The boys left to grab food as 3 Hour Whore and I discussed feet, beer, and boy-free diets (with cheat days) to kill some time. Gradually we made our way over to on-start, where the hares were leaving the sacred nectar for us to enjoy pre-trail.  The pack slowly gathered with lots of hasher dogs frolicking on the beach and pissing on all raised objects more than an inch from ground level. The dogs were peeing, not the hashers.  7pm rolled around and I stood up to do chalk talk.....but we had no hares and no chalk.  So I cracked another beer and waited for those wankers to show up.......finally they did, 10 to 15 minutes late in true hasher form. Shiggy laid some marks that we haven't seen in a while/other kennels use just to confuse everyone, we had chalk talk, and I released those befuddling hares as quickly as possible before they could screw up anything else.  We did chalk talk again for some latecomers, and then we were off!

First intersection was a disaster.  There wasn't even a check, it was just that very few attending this particular trail last night have been hashing long enough or have travel hashed enough to know how dollops work instead of our regular arrows. So from that point forward every dollop became a 369 degree check unless a senior hasher or myself was at the head of the pack.  Which typically wasn't me because we had a ton of straggling virgins and I was herding those wankers like cats in a field of mice and laser pointers. I'm tired all over again just thinking about it. Just Mark kept thinking paint marks were trail marks and ran a half mile down Truman before he realized he was alone and circled back to rejoin the pack on Windsor where we were shouting and blowing whistles at him. At some point, some asshole had left crushed drywall all over the trail which looks EXACTLY like freakin flour at night on the road unless you touch it, so we were running all over the place.  The hares had beverage checks instead of beer checks, meaning one of the checks ended up being a Jim Beam Honey bottle that we had to kill before moving on. As a tribute to Carolina Trash H3 (my second loves), Rumply Foreskin did it on-the-toe style by tapping the next person who had to drink on the toe with the bottle. NOTE:  It is absolutely awful to run after slugging Jim Beam Honey - at one point while running I yelled, "This is awful, I don't know whether I want to puke or poop!", which apparently a tiny old muggle lady heard while quietly rocking on her porch as we ran by.  I heard the faint whispers of "Oh my Lord!" echo back to me, but alas, I was already past and apologies are like assholes on a hash, they all stink and mean jack shit. Shortly after a water check (whaaaat?), some of the virgins disappeared and after a momentary search by the hashers revealed that there was DRAMA ON TRAIL, we firked off and left them. The hares left a boob check near the new city hall building on White and United, but apparently a shitty security guard was so offended by this that he walked all the way down to the sidewalk and did his best to rub one out on the boobs. I mean rub the boobs out.  I mean rub out the boobs. So as a gesture of pure defiance and refusal to obey The Man, multiple senior female hashers hauled their tits out and put them on proud display. Seriously, fuck that guy.  The next beer check revealed that our hares must be fairies, because they bought us fairy-sized beer.  Really guys, where the hell do you even buy 8oz Bud Light.  Why was that even invented?  What is the meaning of it all? After some drinking and discussion of accusations in circle, we were off again, finally getting to the end of the trail........where in her excitement to be FRB, 3 Hour Whore promptly ate shit (I'm not gonna lie, I'd been waiting for it all night because it happens EVERY trail) and tore her elbow off.  Don't worry kids, she still drank for Blood on Trail and got FRB and properly chained and waterboarded like a goddamned champ in circle. After some minor accusations and viewing some virginal body parts (if that guy's part was virgin, I'm banging the Thor version of Chris Hemsworth), we headed to on-after at Cork and Stogie to rehash the night.  

On-On!

Dead Travelin Fister 

Hash #407

Hares: SeaBear SLayer and 7 Shooters Up the Ass


As we meet for the on start we quickly notice that we are not alone. We had no fear in sharing our debaucherous traditions with a bocce ball tournament and all of the race-ist finishers from the Keys 100.  Due to our RA, X.S.N.R.G, finding himself under a plethora of virgins, he was unable to lead the Key West kennel in Chalk talk.  The fearless Bad Tranny Training quickly stepped in and blessed the hairs.

As the hares set off for one of the sweatiest trails to be ran, BTT informed our visiting hashers and sole virgin on what the local trail marks mean.

After a few short moments, the pack down downed their beverages and were OFF!

Those tricky hares laid a true trail leading over one of the busiest (white st) streets of Key West, just to leave a trail mark on the opposite side of the street!  The pack was quickly confused, but not to worry the hairs had hidden beer about 500 feet from the confusion.  After the sacred nectar was consumed the pack was off again.  Only one hare, Wanna Key Your Anus, jumped the fence that was true trail. A true hasher indeed.  Then the hares lead the pack through mid town into new town.  On the way Thumb In Clooney found the largest charcoal BBQ that the hash has ever laid eyes on.  He obviously had to take this as trail treasure.  Then after of miles of whichey ways, checks, and YBFs, the hares saved the pack by leaving everyone's favorite mark B N.  In a sktchy alley on third and seidenburg the pack consumed all of the sacred nectar that was provided.  The hares then laid trail that lead back to the bocce ball tournament. BTT was willing to lead circle since our RA was probably balls deep in those virgins.  After meeting our out-of-towners and our virgin, we heard all of the stories from trail.  Then, a few members from MisManagement and Named Key West hashers decided to give Just Eustice a true name.  After many questions were asked and not so many of them got answered, we deliberated.  Names like Can’t Flush This and Aids Blow were thrown out there.  It came to a very close vote, but now our brother will go by Shitters Full.  On-On

-SeaBear Slayer KWH3

Hash #506 – Best Second Beer Stop Ever Hash!

Hare: 4 inch Spike

Biermeister: HNIC

ON-Start was on top of the Parking Garage at Marriott Beachside.  Thank you autocorrect for letting me know how to spell Marriott. So there we were.  Key West Hashers were practically outnumbered by visiting hashers.  At least we had a kick ass view of the ocean up on top of the garage.  The lot of us decided we’d have a Key West Finest walking hash from the get go, much to the amusement to 4 inch laying live trail.  

So off 4 inch went to start laying trail….most notably taking the elevator…cause fuck running down the garage or taking the stairs!

The few beers deep pack may have lost track of time on top of the garage and figured we might want to get going to get more beer and see where this walking adventure of a trail would take us! The 8 of us crammed our asses in the elevator as well to find out “Hey! Look at all the mirrors!!!! Look up….I see cleavage!!!!”  Then there was a lovely game of what button to we push on the elevator,”Let’s try this one!” Only to find the doors behind us opening into the lobby and almost having some muggle in the lobby trying to intercept the pack!  “Quick! Push another button!!!!” sending us the ground floor of the garage!  “Quick! Send the elevator to the 3rd floor of the garage that’ll throw them off and scatter!!!!”  Yeah, hadn’t even left the garage yet and we’re already evading muggles! Fucken drunk wankers!

After the escape from the Marriot Garage we starting heading towards Cow Key Bridge passing by midget stop signs and a few local street residents just to find a true trail taking us under the bridge.  Dodging sleeping bags and a sleeping resident we found ourselves heading north on US-1 over the bridge to find out we weren’t done with our under the bridge adventure.  We saw two muggle chicks completely enthralled with their waverrunner rides driven by their assumed boyfriends. My guess is that ride was similar to other rides in their relationship.  Slow and disappointing.  Our pack made our way to median of US-1 and had to play frogger to get to the bike trail on the other side of the highway.

While making our way down the bike path we discovered the municipal mark of 42 + 0 to the enlightenment and dismay to a few of the hashers in the pack. A dick check produced a show for some unsuspecting muggles in the area.  A whichy way was then seen separating the pack into 3 groups, the third group decided to take the shiggy filled middle ground….of mowed greenery in the middle.  After a dauntless whichy way we regrouped to see an inter-tit-section. US-1 muggle motorists were also made aware of its presence as well.

Officially, making our way onto the mean multilingual streets of Stock Rock.  XS managed to find trail treasure of a ball he lost, I mean, found.  A golf ball to be specific.  This ball was then lobbed at my ass as I was trying to take a picture for hash trash evidence.  Wanker.

As we found ourselves deeper in unknown territory on Stock Rock the pack felt the need to cool off out of sun under the shade of a tree that was nice enough to provide some green AC. After a brief AC break we discovered the people of Stock Rock are exceptionally protective of their security with a reinforced entry measures of their 50s era fallout trailer.  It’s the first place I’m going should shit go down! 

Having found myself DFL after another inter-tit-section, finding out Sprechen Sie Douch will be in drag pole dancing in near future with Horenament, and needing to pee like a race horse in the Kentucky Derby I watched as the pack had to dodge a series of white cars.  I was beginning to think there may be a white car cult on Stock Rock…. We found another whichy-way.  This took us right past the Beer Rat Mobile!  Still not sure about that cult though. XS still playing vigorously with his ball dropped it in the parking lot lake.  This lake lead us to the Cuban Sharknado Vessel dry docked on the side of the road/lake.  Having felt like the pack was doing their own walking hash version of the 90 mile wet foot/dry foot trail we began questioning the locality of the next beer stop.  We knew we were on trial because we came across a literal COCK check.  I was only able to capture 1 of the 4 cocks that flashed us sadly.  They were some big cocks!  Likes Twice the Seamen also tried to get his hands on some!

A moment later we heard the laughter of our Hare and BierMeister while they were watching this all go down with the cocks.  We FINALLY had our first beer check at Bernstein Park!  At least half the pack raced their asses to bathroom before grabbing a beer, myself included to hear, “Hey, Lift me up so I can get on top of it!” coming from the men’s room. WTF?!?  Then as I was leaving the ladies room I see a muggle leaving the men’s room looking like some strange shit went down in there.  I quickly fled the area with numerous questions and possible scenarios filling my head. Glory Hole?  Where are all of our wankers?

We drank our sweet nectar while watching our fearless hare leave to continue to lay live trail through who knows what the hell you’re gonna see on Stock Island. The pack departed soon after to see a very sketchy heavily reinforced excessively windowed building that just screamed, SUSPECT!  Then on to Second Hand Sam’s where the moon came briefly out for us to see.

En route to the second beer check we discovered yet another inter-tit-section yet again on US1 followed by a dick check and two muggle chicks that would not look back at the group of wankers who had dog piled onto the giant wooden adirondack chair.  Thank you again auto correct.  The best thing happened next.  We saw a Beer Near and the guys waiting for us!!! 

This is the part where the pack, the hare, and biermeister all  decided…yeah, we’re hungry and on-after is going to be here. We circled and found out we had two of our male hashers “helping each other out” in that bathroom cause they “Couldn’t get in”.  I may have paraphrased that a bit.  We had a fabulous fast circle to appease the hungry pack and on-aftered at Hurricane Hole!

ON-ON

Schoolhouse Cocks

Slideshow!

Military Muster – Blame it on the DEA – Conch Republic Days

Monday, April 25th was the Military Muster for Conch Republic Days and the 69th Pirate Brigade of KWH3 was ready with Conchs in hand!     We gathered at the Cork and Stogie for brief palate conditioning with some sweet nectar then one last practice outside entertaining the masses on upper Duval Street!

Dressed in the finest pirate gear we marched down to the Gardens Hotel!  The CR Military was waiting to be entertained.  We, as good citizens of the CR, partook in the raffles benefiting some crib midgets in the Keys aka our future CR Military and possible future hashers.  We watched the CR Military give respect to those that laid the foundation for the weeks festivities.  After having been entertained by their musical ensembles it was our turn to close out the gathering.  The hashers, having had ample time to continue wetting their palate pre-performance, were well lubricated to entertain the gathering!  After our one of a kind performance we gathered at DJ’s for some delicious lobster rolls!

Slide show!

Mu-sick’s Little Prick Conch Hash

At VERY VERY last minute Mu-sick volunteered himself to hare our regularly scheduled Saturday hash.

In the spirt of Conch Republic Days our theme was Conchs!  The pseudo mom of KWH3 and Mu-sick’s amazing wife, Thar She Blows!, told Mu-sick if we could get 6 wanks together for on-start we could run the hash! Of course Mu-sick was up for the challenge!  

6 last minute wanks later….:insert “apparently that’s all it took” joke here:….made the on-start! We were shown the mark of a CB 7 so the pack instantaneously became wary of the trail to be but were told by Musick it was going to be a short trail and that made things a bit better for the moment with the dreaded CB looming ahead.  So off goes Mu-sick to live lay trail for the rest of us already thirsty wankers!

The group made their way from the Shanna Key parking lot heading towards N.Roosevelt via 1st Street…one EFFING CB 3 later we’re pounding pavement still through the neighborhood.  Thirstier and thirstier we got! Praying to the Holy G for sweet nectar we got back on N.Roosevelt and the pack basically said “FUCK IT!  VFW BEER STOP IT IS!”  This amazing suggestion came from none other than Bleeds Once A Month! After a beer-o-lite recharge we were off again continuing down N. Roosevelt and back into the neighborhood, over the bridge and past the old tyrant’s house, we wound up crossing Flagler to notice a VERY faint Beer Check on one of the concrete posts aiming at a house we didn’t know who lived in….who the mystery hasher is still yet to be known….Down about another ½ mile we see a mark to go into a shady trail right next to water.  Ok we got this…except THE WHOLE PACK got cactied AND found a CB 7 waiting for us at the end!  Bleeds and XS had the unique experience of getting handsy with one particular cactus as well!  

So the pack once again finds themselves on Flagler heading down 5th street seeing an intersection that could lead us into known shiggy filled dead end or around the block to our old GMs house…..FINALLY having our first beer check!  Short trail my ass!   We also picked up a few late comers and had our Hare at the stop waiting for us!!!  The group who followed trail proceeded to voice their colorful opinions on Mu-sick Prickly CB 7 and miraculously there was one yuengling left. J  

After the pack hurried Mu-sick off we were in quick pursuit!  Heading towards the GIANT CONCH at the high school we stopped to snap a few photos of the frbs and the whole pack on our way to the on end!

The On-End was at Mu-sick and Thar’s house.  We had our circle followed by a fabulous practice of Blame it On the DEA for Conch Republic Days!

ON-ON!