Hash Trash AH3 #1746
The Rocks-Off Hash
Hares:
Digging For Love
Tummy Sticks
Peter Beater Ant Feeder
Pipe Cleaner
So, there I was…
From the perspective of the Hare.
There are very few trails that I have felt “scared” on. This was one of them. Thankfully, after doing it enough times (and by enough I mean way too many) I finally got over that fear (mostly), or at the very least (more honestly let’s say) got a lot better at ignoring that voice in my head and wanting to involuntarily pee 
The trail began with a shuttle to B, where the hares took the pack up a cliff-face full of shifty volcanic rock and shin high grass just tall enough so you never knew if you were stepping on or in-between a rock. It was a miracle everyone walked away without joining the BOOT BRIGADE, but alas, another week without a serious injury. 
Thankfully the hares came to their senses and significantly shortened this route a day or two prior to trail.
Finally, once up on the ridge, it was (mostly) smooth sailing and BEER!
The turkeys went a ways, did a few makeshift switchbacks down onto flat ground, and made their way through the tall shiggy to the riverbed and finally to another beer check in a culvert before making their way on home!
Meanwhile, those daring enough to take on Eagle continued along the ridge for forever and a day, hiking passed a 5G tower (because what’s a good hash without a daily dose of RF), and onto what I called “the nipple”, that I later found out was actually called, “Mauna Kuwale” or “The Lonely Mountain”. But I like nipples and it looked like a boob to me 
. This, all the while in the sun with absolutely zero shade in the most arid part of the island we could find. But those sweaty smelly Eagles didn’t have to wait much longer!
On the peak sat a hidden pillbox with enough beer for every eagle three times over! The eagles chose to check out the pillbox and crack open a nice cold beer on the top with the hares who were thankful to have just barely made it to the summit before the FRBs.
From there the eagles had a choice. Eagle their way back to Turkeys and go “gently” down into the marsh, or dare the way of the Super Eagle, summit, and weigh their life against their footing and a long painful drop to the bottom. Of course, every eagle decided that they’d come to far to give up now, and away these brave Super Eagles flew! Up and over, and down a route that made them earn the title of Super Eagle. 
Eventually our final Eagles arrived and to our surprise we heard a familiar voice from the summit behind us.. on his way down, a Dr Teenee Weenee “No-No’d” making it down to the pillbox. Unbelievably, Teenee had never been to this bunker, so it was a moment we all shared in admiration as we down-downed a couple beers and talked story.
And off the hares (and Dr Teenee Weenee) went, back the way they came, up and over, and down. We held our breath as Teenee made his way down the treacherous descent, but stopped along the way to discuss formations, dikes, sills, and outrageous basalt! 
Back at circle there was much rejoicing! With cold beer, snacks, and smiling faces. Everyone seemed to enjoy the trail, songs were sang, accusations and honors were passed, bodies were streamered, and the RA snuck away before she could get the Hash Shit, leaving us no choice but to give it to our lead Hare. . . who also snuck away, so it went (temporarily) to the repeat “offendHare”. Peter Beater
ON-ON!
-Peter Beater Ant Feeder