August 16, 2006
Start: 86th St. and Central Park West
Hare: Wet Connection
On-In: Blarney Stone (47th St. between 8th and 9th Ave.)
If you arrived five minutes after 7pm you would have still been super early. At that time almost 40 virgins and visitors swarmed the benches at the start on Central Park West while most of our regulars were drinking at a recently announced pre-lube. We heard a train delay was keeping our hare away. (Speculation abounded as to whether the announced “debris” on the tracks at Dekalb Avenue on the B and D lines was actually a jumper). Slowly the number of familiar faces grew and even Tim wasn’t late enough this time to have to run with his bag. Our illustrious and newly-tanned (I heard it was spray-on) hare finally arrived to a round of applause and we were on our way.
The trail quickly went into the park and stayed there. We toured the reservoir and practically ran through Summer Stage where a bunch of stuck-up New Yorkers were waiting quietly on the grass and gawking at the running and shouting misfits. After some more park pleasantries we exited at Columbus Circle and went straight down Eighth Avenue to the on-in. The huge pack stayed mostly together.
Wet Connection drove off one of the visitors and the three that remained were all from Hong Kong and from different hashes. Considering there were only 10 to 12 virgins at the on-in it seems Wet Connection may have lost some of them as well. Those that made it all the way seemed a sturdy bunch and hopefully they’ll return.
DAVES! When one Dave drinks, they all drink! And so it was: Dave Byron Brown, Crazy American Dave, Fast American Dave, Dave Hardy, Dave Long and Dave Croft all joined hands and clinked glasses (or whatever noise a plastic cup makes).
And the New Offense category award goes to Dr. Bruce and Dr. Steve for “playing tag on trail”. Not sure it means what we think it means but I hope it’s not a euphemism. Dr. Bruce remained after the first beer and was given another for something equally disturbing.
Assh*le of the Week went to Oh Sh*t who had gone to the beach at Sandy Hook the previous weekend. He stripped down to his birthday suit–mistakenly believing he was at the nude beach, oops!–and dashed into the water. The poor lifeguard had to chase him out of the water and back into his clothes (thank goodness). Hey, did you know that every second to last Wednesday hash in August is a nude hash? You first.
The bartenders and other patrons at the bar seemed glad to have us there despite the mob we made in the back. We gorged on a bounty of beer and fried foods.