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Imagine sensually running your fingers from a woman's toes up to her vagina. Now imagine this woman is a sasquatch, your fingers are your body, and her vagina is a cave full of mint-condition mid-80s cassette tapes on sale for a steal. And she really needs, and loves, to shave. Welcome to Beardman's Pass, adventurer.

This winding path is nestled within the only human-passible valley in the Gouge Alps; and "human-passable" is used fairly liberally, especially if you consider the majority of your body flying out the other end as passing through the valley. Those viewing Beardman's Pass from a safe distance often assume the name comes from the fact that its extremely thick vegetation resembles course hair; do not make this assumption, adventurer. It is hair.

The following is an excerpt from the critically acclaimed children's book Shipley's Believe it or Screw Off, Jackass, a book highly recommended by the Adventurer's Field Guide authors, as it's not only an excellent book, but also issued by the same publisher, and we really like keeping our jobs:

Roughly a millenia ago, the first adventurer set foot on Beardman's Pass. He left immediately, or at least part of him did, back the way he came. He had no choice, that's the direction is body flew. His two companions were alarmed, not because they just witnessed their friend and companion be launched fifty feet in the air [as you are well aware, dear adventurer, being thrown to and fro is hardly a rare occurance in your chosen occupation -- see Landing Tactics, pg. 23 -- ed.], or even because of the tuft of 5-foot-long hair that trailed him in his arc, but because he was missing the lower half of his body. After a quick game of Rock Paper Scissors, the loser investigated the case of the missing legs, and quickly returned with an answer: "they are next to my legs". And now two hearty adventurers regretted what they put on paper. The first his signature on the contract to lead this three-man party, the second for playing it.

The third adventurer, a cunning man, was not one to turn down a challenge. He quickly lay flat on his stomach, and began crawling towards the uncombed mountain brush. When he came upon a patch of shorter hair, he was not surprised to find four spikes amongst the hairy vegetation.

"I found your legs, guys!" he proclaimed proudly, picking one up with minimal effort.

The two rugged adventurer's while weighing a third less than they used to, were unfortunately unable to aid their compamnion, merely wiggling about where they lay. "Uh," said the first, "can you give us a hand?"

"Sure!" said the third adventurer. A slashing noise and a scream later, a leg and a pile of hair landed next to the first two heroes, a hand attached to the leg's ankle.

"I didn't mean literally."

It was only later that scientists and a team of bald men discovered that this as-to-yet unnamed path not only was growing course black hair, but also that the mountain had a built-in shaving system comprised of large, spinning metal blades which clear the longer hairs at random to a manageable 24-inches. As no pimples, boils, giant noses, or eyes could be discovered on the land, it was safe to assume they weren't standing on a giant face, only a very coincidental evolutionary result.

In order to traverse Beardman's Pass, adventurer, you must bring the following items:

• Several gallons of shampoo.
  
• A giant novelty pair of scissors, the kind mayors use to cut ribbons (see Useful Friends and Allies, pg. 768).
  
• In the event the above cannot be located, two large swords and excellent hand-eye coordination.

Upon reaching the first mass of hair in the Pass, throw the bottles of shampoo as hard as you can into the swaying locks. Disturbing slicing and squishing noises are to be expected. This is your peace offerring to the mountain. While researchers have not fully verified this action allows for an easier trek through the terrain, it does make your final resting place smell awfully nice, and your death bed nice and comfortable.

Once you have raised your luck with the bearded land, you may begin testing it. As if roaming through a jungle with a machete, slash at the hair with your giant scissors or huge swords, making absolutely sure to leave no more than 2-foot-tall strands behind. Otherwise, the Pass will take care of skimming off the excess. And you are excess, adventurer (see Understanding Your Worthlessness, pg 676).

If you successfully make it through the two miles of bearded valley, dear adventurer, rejoice, for you have accomplished no small feat. Speaking of which, any feet you find while making your journey have no legal precedence to hold onto the shoes they reside in, so feel free to loot any decent Converse you find. Celebrate the finger you've just given death at the cave before you by listening to some Phil Collins and trading your old shoes for The Cars Greatest Hits. It will give you something to listen to on your hairy death bed after you lose your legs on the way back.

And dear adventurers, do not, under any circumstances, wear feather boots. There's a reason you saw so many of them lying around on your way through.

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