It was Bare Ass Burn's farewell, and did she and her co-hares, Wet Spot and
Ass Grabber and Skunk Dick, ever give us a run and a pub crawl to remember
her by.

THE RUN

We gathered at the Island Community Center at 3 PM on Sat Mar 9. As you
drive from Houston going south on the Gulf Freeway, that's on your left as
you enter Galveston Island, on Broadway at 48th Street.

Hounds starting out were Hooter Bill, Rubbin' the Boy Wanker, Rainbitch,
Stinky, Burning Rubber, Letch, Estrus, Shut Up Chuck, Penicillin (Oslo,
Norway), and Pussy Hound (Luanda, Angola), with Roll Model and Pound Puppy
and Puppy Prick catching up after the start.

The flour took us into the residential streets across Broadway. Soon, the
flour took us through a cemetery back to Broadway. From there, we crossed
Broadway and found trail again to a check. We found flour and kept running
until we came to a field, with the railroad yard in the distance. The flour
had given out, but many kept running toward the tracks, hopeful to find
trail again.

Several of us turned back to the last flour and found a falsie we had
overlooked. So, back to the check again. Here, we got separated by a long
warehouse. Pussy Hound of Angola and I eventually found two or three marks
of flour again in an alley, and then a backcheck on a corner. Still
backchecking, I found myself alone for awhile, until I saw Rubbin' near the
railroad tracks, lost. After more searching, Rubbin' and I found flour
leading us around the warehouses and into the railway yard and along tracks.

Suddenly, everyone's head popped up over the top of a lonely railway car and
jeered at us. We had to climb up and over and drop down into the empty car,
where the beer check was in progress with Bare Ass Burn administering shots.
Rain Bitch was FRB to the beer check. Hooter Bill was DFL to the beer check.
Puppy Prick made a cameo appearance.

The pack climbed out of the railway car and started checking. The trail was
picked up on Port Industrial Boulevard as it skirted the bay, taking us
across the big draw bridge over the water to Pelican Island. Trail led us to
the right into the campus of Texas A&M University at Galveston, with their
aggie ship with a maroon smokestack moored at the dock. Trail then led us
out the back of the campus into scrub and shiggy and then back across Port
Industrial Blvd and into the briars and bushy marshland. After we crossed
the road, the trail was marked with paper tied to the bushes as we sloshed
through the marshy, empty land. No buildings or structures of any kind, just
briar and bush as far as you could see. (We learned later that we had Bare
Ass Burn and Wet Spot to thank for this part of the trail.)

After much sloshing, we came out on a dirt road to a check. Everyone except
wily Hooter Bill went the wrong way. Finding trail the other way, Hooter
Bill sprinted in as the FRB at the finish by an earthen dyke on the bay.

We circled up for a chilly circle as the sun was setting. As we drove out of
the remote marshes and got back on Port Industrial Boulevard, we ran into
Letch as we crossed back over the draw bridge, still trying to catch up.

THE PUB CRAWL

We gathered at the Sea Horse Motel where Wet Spot and Bare Ass Burn had
rented a room. I tried to get some communal showers going, but the showers
turned out solo.

Big Daddy's was the first stop on the pub crawl, located in front of the Sea
Horse Motel on Sea Wall Blvd. We found Geek and Lorna Doon and Butt Pirate
(Scott?) of El Paso already there. (Did Rollin' Nutless show up, too?)

We followed flour along Sea Wall Boulevard to a rainbow flag the hares had
seen earlier in the day. After some discussion, we were admitted to the
Boulevard Saloon, a tastefully appointed establishment. There were only a
few others in the bar, so the band gave our table all their attention. Bare
Ass Burn and Wet Spot got up-close serenades from the saxophonist. Lorna
showed 'em how to dance. The band invited requests. Hooter Bill requested
that polka, the Chicken Choker. It brought down the house.

Onward the flour led us along Sea Wall Boulevard, to the Poop Deck, on the
second floor of a building, looking out to sea. Good, cozy bar. The bar
maids bought sailor hats for Ass Grabber and Hooter Bill.

After an effort by Ass Grabber to lead us to a trolley that would take us
across the island to the Strand, we rebelled and all walked back to Big
Daddy's to call it a night.

Your scribe, Hooter Bill.