NYCH3 #1,040,
Hares: Crazy Bob & Ewa
Start:
On-In: 19th Hole
Scribe: Mean Jean
As fate would have it, I had been in the midst of researching some material for the Greater Gotham Full Moon 150th r*n compendium when I came across a note from Scot which talked about how Crazy Bob was never allowed to set trails for GGFM again. This was because no one ever seemed to find any of his trails after the first few blocks. I personally remember standing around Thompkins Square one particularly cold evening a couple of years back when not only did the pack find themselves utterly out of trail but were about to discover the hotline was not working either. There was nothing to it but to run back to the start at Madison Sq Park and hope like hell Bob had remembered to write the on in location there. Fatefully, that hash ended at the 19th Hole as well.
All this is a big build up to tell you how after today, I long for the days when we weren’t able to find Crazy Bob’s trails. Oh we found this one alright; in fact some of us found it so well that they actually found Mile 5 of the trail shortly after the end of Mile 1. That’s right, our loco hare had been snaking us dangerously close to other parts of the trail all day. But it wasn’t we DFLs who were to benefit; it was the 5 or 6 hashers who actually would have enjoyed running a 6 mile trail instead of complaining about its length which is what we did. That’s right, bastards HUA, Jesse, Tripod et al were all well into Pint #3 by the time my little quorum of complainers (hate to name names but Sarah Downunder, special guest star Zoe, Andrew Manslave, AndreafromNYHash, her friend Lisa, an overdressed visitor from Norway and his wife/girlfriend/sister/whatever) pulled up to the bar. Damn that was long I said. No it wasn’t said Jesse, seconds before I sucker-punched him to the ground. You don’t want to trifle with a Mean Jean who’s 2 miles past her prime.
But what did we expect from a crazy Bob setting trail on a day that only comes around once every four years? But then again, it’s hard to stay mad at a guy who looks so damn good in gray faux fur and a lampshade.
The On In fun began On Outside the bar with a stretching fest for the ages. Zoe was doing her “My bones are made of rubber” uber bending moves that leave young men and old staring idly by, tongues dangling, as she contorts into positions that a devious imagination can do wonders with. Kyle on the other hand is all akimbo writhing on the pavement with last week’s cigarette butts stuck to his sweaty back (is it any wonder I’m crazy about him??). Lesley’s got an armful of fire hydrant while she loosens up her calves and Heather is spreadeagle against a wall…um, I’m not exactly sure what she was stretching. It was a gloriously sunny day with just a hint of spring in the air, so naturally, we all moved inside to the dark confines of the bar. The better to get drunk in.
The circle was called but I didn’t manage to jot any notes… kind of appropriate for a day that only comes around once every four years.
On out.