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Draggers Hash House Harriers Motorcycle ClubKnuckle
Draggers Hash House Harriers Motorcycle Club
15th Run Trash
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15th KDH3MC Hash
Saturday 8-10-02
Weather: Beautiful
So there I was...Another hot muggy day in it’s infancy, looking like a 90 mph ride to keep somewhat cool. It’s 8:50, I’m at the sacred whore and there’s not another sole in sight. Could I have mistakenly heard 9:00 as departure time instead of 8:00? After a few minutes of fearing I’d been left behind, the sound of a Harley could be heard in the distance. It’s PRISON PUSSY! He too is wondering if he missed the group since hashers are never late. It’s not long before RANGER SMURF shows up, announcing that he’d seen several other riders fueling up just down the road. Soon a crowd begins to gather and before long we’re on our way, nine bikes, four bitches and two four-wheeled chariots following.
For anyone that’s ever driven to the Valley, there isn’t much to look at. The trip consists of miles of straight roads with a few small towns to break up the monotony. We weren’t going to South Padre for the scenic ride though, we were going for the fun on the island. A stop in Kingsville for fuel, another stop in another small town for more fuel, and a stop in Harlingen for lunch and to meet up with DUDE WHERE‘S MY DICK. While in Harlingen, I decided that a motorcycle that only goes 175 mph wasn’t good enough, so I bought a new toy that should go at least 20 mph faster and stretch my arms a little more.
Soon we were back on trail for the island. It wasn’t long before the bright blue-green water of the bay could be seen from the causeway. Once on South Padre Island, the sea breeze kept the temperature comfortable enough to enjoy the outdoors. The group split into two groups, based on how much noise they were going to make during the night, and headed for their respective hotels. After settling in, the group rejoined at the Comfort Suites since it was closest to the beach.
Now, with motorcycles and chariots parked, it was time for consumption of mass quantities of nectar. After a cold beer in the hotel to prime the group, a cooler was filled and group made their way to the beach. The water was warm and the surf was at a minimum, perfect for the vertically challenged in the group. After consuming several beers and more seawater than most would care to admit, it was time to jump in the hotel pool. Exchanging sand and salt water for chlorine and kiddy piss sounded like a great idea. Once in the pool area, a sign with the rules explicitly banning alcohol was found. Being as clever as a hasher can be, the nectar was disguised as coffee and drank from small foam cups. PRISON PUSSY kept the group satisfied by refilling nectar cups for everyone.
While in the pool, ROTTEN CHERRY decided to set trail for the hash. It was a grueling trail, from the pool to the hotel door and back to the pool. Good enough for me, where’s my beer? After several more drinks, the group began looking more like pasty prunes dhan humans. It was late in the afternoon an stOmachs were beginning to groWl from hunger.<'font>
}fter t(e communal shOwer, the group began 4o make their way to 4he Brewery SPŠNKIN’ GRANNY, in the proceqs of getting ready for dinner, had a little trouble getting dpessed. After sûending several minutEs of trqing to put both legs in t`e same leg hole of (is shorts, several other¦ decide To help him finish dresshng. OJce at tha Brewery, more nectar wa3 consumed, aLong with great food. Next stop, Wahoo’s near the wateR on the bay side nf the island. There, more nectar was konsumed as the group watched bungee jumpeRs ris+ thear live3 in the park across the street. Soon it was time for L/uie’3 for more .ect!r and d!ncing. With closing time near, it was time for another swim in the oceaf, followed by another cleansing dip in the pool. @s the light turned intm early iorning, we were informed thAt the pool was closed for the night so we moved to the hot tub beside the pool.
Back in the hotel rooms, various couples w%re attempting tk imitate the sound3 of farm anim!ls in heat. Between the squealing and squEaking bedsprings, sleep was hardŸto cum by. CHEMO and I were keeping each other informed of the various activities in each room via cell phone. Sometime after sufrise, when most had finally fallen asleep, TWAT DID YOU SAY begaj to have a conversation with himself in his sleep, which quickLy led to a loud arguMent with Himself.
The morning came too soon. Somekne woKe up at 10[30 and mentaoned the fact that bre!kfast was o.ly served until 11:00. With that news came the mad scramble for the lobby for free b/od& THe group in the other room was stirring by this time as well. They decidEd tk get on theiR bikes and ride over the causeway for breakfast. Soon the rest of the bikes made the short trip over the causeway were they reassembled for the ride home. In the distance directly over our route home, a huge thunderstorm was turning the sky black. Those who had rain gear thought about using it, but quickly decided against it. Riding in 100 degree temperatures in the sun with a poncho on would be much worse than getting wet. It wasn’t long before the group was on the road and into the first of what would be several rain showers. The first rain shower lasted longer than I cared. It wouldn’t have been bad if we’d kept moving, but as we drove through a small community we were stopped at a traffic light. There isn’t anything I like more than having water fill the back of my jeans as I sit on my motorcycle seat! We rode through several more rain showers, one of which felt more like hail than rain. Who needs a louffa when you can beat dead skin off the arms and face with a ride through stinging rain at 80 mph? A stop for fuel and to drip dry came none too soon.
Soon we were back on the road for the final leg of the trip home. As we neared Chapman Ranch, Just Dave began to slow until he finally came to a stop on the side of the road. Ignoring Just Katti’s request to stop for fuel when the fuel tank had to be switched to reserve, Just Dave thought he could make it to a gas station in Corpus. Just Dave thought wrong, and was completely out of fuel. Fortunately Rotten Cherry knew quite a bit about her motorcycle and was able to disconnect her fuel line to get enough gas to get Just Dave to the nearest gas station. From there the group made their way to GUAM’s to pick up their belongings that were hauled in four-wheeled chariots.
Everyone that attended the ride had a great time. Thanks to all that participated and especially Rotten Cherry for all her time and effort into making the weekend a great success.