NYCH3 #1221

Well, it was a tough day for a trail. You would think that given the Hare’s extensive experience living on planet Earth that by now he would have seen it all. But just when you think you’ve got Mother Nature™ all figured out, she throws you a curveball. Something new; something you’ve never seen before.

Today, that “something new” was something called “rain”. I know: shocking, isn’t it. It looked like some supernatural phenomenon but I’m assured that it can be explained by science. Now, I’m not a scientist myself so I’m just going to quote from an official scientific journal on the subject (err…well, Wikipedia anyway):

“Rain is a type of precipitation which forms when separate drops of water fall to the Earth's surface from clouds.”

Who knew? Anyway, the purpose of this preamble is simply to say: it would have been unwarranted to have taken Bob out back and given him a good kicking for his trail because he couldn’t possibly be expected to have anticipated such a strange and outlandish phenomenon. I mean it’s not as if it was forecasted… repeatedly… throughout the day… oh wait.

Similarly, it was a bit ambitious of us to expect that Bob might’ve thought of using another trail marking substance with slightly more permanence than chalk. What kind of substance, you ask? Oh I don’t know, how about some FLOUR?! Radical, I know…but it just might work.

Anyway, Bob hadn’t seen the forecast and he hadn’t brought any flour so the pack managed to run for a grand total of 390 feet before getting well and truly lost. After some flailing around near 11th and 12th Avenues, some playing with the evening Tunnel traffic and some forensic inspection of various street corners for the minutest evidence of chalk, it seems most hashers split up and did their own thing.

I headed back to the start, in the vague hope of getting a clue of the general direction to the On-In only to find out that it was pretty much an A to A, finishing at Port 41 (41st & 9th). I enquired of our Hare as to the route that we should have taken and, armed with this information, headed out in search of the trail. I can inform you, dear reader, that this information was entirely useless for there was not a single mark in evidence. Not a sausage.

There weren’t any other hashers in evidence either and, upon returning once more to the On-In, the previously fractured pack had already congregated there and had set to consuming the beer and berating the hare…or at least that’s what I did, I don’t know about the rest of you.

And so to the Down Downs.

First, because that’s how it works, Crazy Bob for his excellent trail…all one mark of it. There was a distinct aroma of Irony in the air as it was administered sans sarcasm by the highly expert Hare, FMIG.

There were Down Downs for the visitors; you know who they were…well, at least I hope you do because I’ve forgotten and that seems quite wrong of me. Especially since they managed to survive such a piss poor non-trail in the pissing rain and avoided near certain death in the rush hour traffic; there should be some written record of their achievement but alas, no.

Speaking of nameless hashers, some girl received a Down Down for a broken nose incident. She didn’t break it on trail (we know that because there *wasn’t* a trail so that would’ve been technically impossible) but instead had walked into a lamp post or some such earlier in the week. I know, I know: if she can’t see a lamp post how does she see a chalk mark on the sidewalk? I don’t think Broken Nose Girl does a lot of “checking” on trail.

John Carey was brought up to drink out of one of his shiny new shoes. Serves him right; he should know better quite frankly. Still he put in a sterling effort: not a drop spilled. Methinks he’s done that before.

Crazy Bob had to drink again on account of having got engaged. He was widely encouraged to “Just Say No” but he didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation and instead just drank the beer, laughed it off and went on his merry way. Well he can’t say we didn’t warn him. Ho hum.

And so to “Steph” who had committed the cardinal sin of offending Blackout. Now, at this point my memory’s a little hazy because, although Blackout embarked upon a lengthy explanation of the offence, quite frankly I got bored and fell asleep. Anyway, if there’s one thing I’ve learned on the hash, it’s that one should avoid at all costs offending Blackout. Oh wait I think might’ve…shhh…perhaps he won’t notice.

Sandy & Nicole were asked to drink on account of…err…the fact that they’re setting trail next week. I know, ridiculous, eh? Must’ve been a slow news day.

Finally, AOTW went to Rich. I don’t know why; Lauren & FMIG’s Down Down notes say something about “checking on us”. I find it hard to believe that such an amiable chap as Rich would warrant such a punishment and it’s not as if Lauren and FMIG couldn’t do with some adult supervision from time to time but ours is not to reason why, ours is but to…drink.

And there you have it. Pizza was forthcoming as was plenty of beer. All of which had the desired effect of casting into the dustbin of history the piss poor non-trail we had not endured…which is why we have write-ups to remind you again.

On-On

STOP PRESS: I found a bit of toilet roll that says the Visitors were Squat from Egypt and Suzanne from Pennsylvania. Phew! That’s a relief!