Photo Credit: Kyle Gorjanc
Polar Bear Hash
Hare: Cheeky Bastard (LIVE!!)
On In: Peggy O’Neill’s
Scribe: Six Inches, Ladies
All our rain are belong to you.
Holy crap, hashers. We were fresh off the plane from a sunny week in Jamaica (the actual Jamaica, not the one in Queens) and We thought it’d be nice to continue Our pleasant runnings and swimmings and drinkings that We’d been up to all week. So We came to the Polar Bear Hash. How much different could the weather be?
Apparently 30 in Jamaica and 30 in New York are two completely different things. Being the American, We just assumed that the rest of the world followed along with Us. It makes Us wonder what the British mean when they call it a pint! We mean, how big is it when they do it, you know?
So, the day was rain.
Everyone risked drowning while crossing the street, just to get to Peggy’s. Actually, that was just to get out of the subway. The Hashers stood in Peggy’s and eyed each other, seeing who was badass enough to run the trail that wasn’t yet laid. Also, CPA asked who was running. And that’s how we really knew. CPA is quite clever, and his method was much more reliable than the previously mentioned eyeing.
Cheeky Bastard took off to lay the trail. Speedo Gonzalez gave the chalk talk. He was near a bit of chalk, but nowhere near outside where these things generally take place. There were many HINO (Hashers In Name Only) who remained behind to make sure that the beer and bags didn’t get lonely
The runners/splashers took off with a squeal, because the rain was really, startlingly cold.
So We splashed after the hare’s trail. Did We mention the rain? It was raining. The sidewalks were running with water. And the gutters were actually large unleapable lakes. So there was a lot of splashing. And turning. And flour. Slightly to the north we turned into a playground and ran along the edge of Gravesend Bay. This seemed unwise to Us due to Our inability to accurately describe the point where the bay began and the flooded out playground ended. Cheeky was kind enough to flour a park bench here, as there was no ground visible to lay the trail on.
It’s been Our hash-long dream to have a live hare in sight and to cry out “Tally ho!” So We did.
As We caught the hare he expressed his concern that he was out of flour and the pack might simply stand in the rain and drown. We told him to go on and see what he could do. We’d wait for the pack.
Eventually they appeared and We clued them in to the dilemma. The on in was one unmarked turn and a half mile away. No one panicked. We headed for beer. But unbeknownst to Us, the hare had acquired more flour and attempted to salvage the trail. He inadvertently ran directly into the pack, so it was time to go to the bar.
But not yet time for the beer, because this was the Polar Bear Hash! You’d think that the Polar Bear part of the event would’ve only been made up of the hashers who were willing to run trail in the rain and get wet. Apparently some hashers feel that getting wet by rain is beneath them, but diving into a 41 degree ocean is not. Go figure.
After a blur of skin and sand and nipple-hardeningly cold green surf, we declared ourselves done.
Then we went inside and changed into dry warm things and had beer and pizza and down downs.
Hare – Cheeky Bastard
Hare again for coming back for more flour- Cheeky Bastard
Tequila Whore – wanted to stop for donuts
***Named***- Just Christy is now Farmers Blow, due to her impressive Snot Rocket performance.
Rack n Roll Her watched everyone’s bags, and got a Random Abuse of Power for telling Type A not to text during circle. (Yes, hashers make people drink for upholding social order).
Type A for texting during the circle
All the Polar Bear virgins drank
Six Inches, Ladies- for catching the hare and volunteering to be flour.