Run #439 Chandra Bigfoot

Sure Gary Condit says he’s never had a relationship with Bigfoot but she was still missing at the circle last Thursday. We looked and looked but no Bigfoot. Was she in heaven or off on a toot that damned' elusive Suds Sucking Bigfoot? Just when T/BC was getting ready to smash her car window and fence the stereo while Likes To Lick emptied her ATM account and paid for the on-on-on with her credit cards the handsome young park policeman delivered her. As she got out of the car she was still apologizing for the six stitches he needed to close the cut he received from her flashlight when she thought he was just another perve. Drill Me was besides herself trying to explain to Badger why she wouldn’t be getting that juicy leg bone she’d been promised and the rest of the pack continued punishing their livers never having noticed Bigfoot was missing. So back to the beginning. It all started well enough as T/BC and Nutless Sac gathered the pack at the vista parking lot at the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge for an InterAm prelewd trail. Hey how hard could it be with the fat man and the cripple setting the trail? It being summer in the city the wind was howling and the fog was thick enough to smear on bread. Nutless having fallen madly in love with retail sales was busy hawking his latest shirt commemorating the trail. So devoted is he that one shirt went to a civilian who just needed something warm. Religious services were performed by Just Nathan a friend of Open Wide and a for real *unner, but we forgave him his sin. By the time he finished his reading of the Sacred Missal about dildos and dykes his face was so red that rumor has it he’ll be replacing Rudolph as the lead reindeer this Christmas Eve. Comes Slowly made a special plea to stop reading the lesbian parables as Sadie has been crawling into bed of late and trying to act them out. On that note the pack was on-on. Trail took them under the bridge and up along the Coastal Trail. Nutless and T/BC watched the pack disappear into the fog like Mallory and Irvine. As they ascended through the howling wind they cursed the hares and swore eternal vengeance. Over the Waldo Tunnel they climbed secure in the knowledge that retreat was impossible. A check at the base of Slacker Hill drew the pack even higher where they were confronted with a back check that brought Naked Hasher to his knees in tears that froze as they fell. Clap Trap and Dick Chick mistaking the faltering steps and slurred speech of his parking lot brandies for warmth with signs of hypothermia quickly formed themselves into a sandwich with him as the meat. Imagine their surprise when he not only warmed to the experience but rose to the occasion. While true hashers were making fools of themselves on Slacker Hill novices Just Nathan and Just Wayne were on true trail. The hares, watching from a hill across the road, wet their pants laughing as Just Nathan went up and down the trail three times yelling, “On three” while the cognoscenti paid no attention. They fell over weeping to hear Just Wayne reach the road and yell back, “I found a circle with a cross in it” to which Nathan responded, “Is that good or bad?” A quick circle jerk past the hares, who were pounding brews and showing no inclination to share, left the pack even angrier. Down McCullogh Road thundered the pack. Just before Bunker Road an arrow took them through the housing for GGNRA workers and finally to a much needed beer check. With Texas on their minds the hares had spared all expense and provided Shiner Bock for the pack. It was at the beer check that Bigfoot’s absence was first noted. Dick Chick volunteered to run back to find her and Drill Me sensing a possible treat for Badger volunteered to drive back along the road. Once the hares were sure that the rest of the pack had consumed enough alcohol to raise their blood courage level they sent them back through the car tunnel under the headlands. Not that the tunnel is narrow but cars are only allowed through in one direction at a time with a five-minute wait in each direction. Not that the tunnel is slippery but speed skaters could train there. Shithead fueled by Shiners and zeal bellowed, “Hoowah, I’ll die like a Gypsy” and dashed into the tunnel providing a sterling example of halfmindedness. He was quickly shoved aside by Fucking Pesto Chicken, arms flailing, eyes closed, hysterically screaming “Please momma I don’t want to die.” Saner pack members left these two to duel their way to the light at the end of the tunnel. Bag Lady concerned that someone might do a Bitch In Heat went last in case her nursing skills were required. Having headed for the light the pack found itself with a fast trip to the on-in. Actual drinking occurred in the parking lot on the east side of the bridge to avoid any potentially nasty confrontations with the police. Once all the furniture had been arranged the Sacred Bucket was produced and filled with River Madness. The madness was soon transferred to the throats of the pack. As the sun set concern for Bigfoot rose and several search parties retraced the trail looking for our missing cohort or at least her remains. Just Nathan even retraced the trail over the top. This of course was his punishment for being a fit fucker. More traditionally built hashers like Cupcake and Manhole preferred to guard Bigfoot’s share of the Bucket and say a prayer for the dear departed. Dickless Namehole pled arthritis as an excuse to drink and not hunt. No amount of searching brought forth Bigfoot. Those with a more paranoid view began to question D’anglin Anglin more closely as he claimed to be the last one to see her alive. Dr. Kimble noting the rust color stains on D’anglin’s shoes wondered aloud if they could be blood. Phone Sex ran to her truck and produced a rope. Just as the vigilante spirit was about to overwhelm the pack the park police brought our lady back safe and sound which brings us back to the start of the tail. It seems that our lost sheep had followed trail to the point where it left the housing complex and noting that it appeared to go uphill decided to turn left instead of right and go where it was flat. Using perfect hashing logic she chose to go in the opposite direction of the trail. Eventually she reached Rodeo Beach and was about to make a desperate effort to swim back when the coppers rescued her. Open Wide was so grateful, and so toasted, that she promised the officer free teeth cleaning for a year. Noting the officers tight fitting uniform Scarlett O’Hairy volunteered to be the next bimbo in need. Once our lost lamb was back in the fold she assumed Enter The Gerbil’s role as King’s Fool and distributed down-downs. Fits In received one for offering to succor Gerbil had Bigfoot gone to Jimmy Hoffaland. Just Brian got one for somehow avoiding involvement in any of the insanity. Eventually Dario’s got the pack’s business and the pack got pizza and yet more beer. Join the Campaign to Keep Bigfoot Off Milk Cartons. Cheers.