BH3 #506

March 22, 2010

Start: Prospect & Greenwood Aves.

On-In: Buttermilk

Hares: Baboon Ass & Donner Kebab

Scribe: Nads on Film


Spring is here, and so are wet, soggy hashes. Monday’s hash was a wet and soggy romp through Prospect Park. Several suffered dalliances on the F train to arrive in Windsor Terrace for what no one could have mistaken would be a precipitous trail. Although told there were no false trails, the pack was warned before escaping into the drizzle and dusk that healthy distances were put between checks and marks. Hares used a combination of flour and dry wall; not even flour could withstand the downpour that was to ensue. The pack, with an actual canine in tow, made its way into the south side of Prospect Park… and fast lost the trail, then found it, then lost it again. Such a pattern continued until somewhere near mile two (anyone’s guess, really), the roughly 15-strong pack broke rank, half going directly to the On-In, the determined, albeit arguably moronic, others staying behind in the saturated woods to finish. Being of the latter, I and the faithful continued another mile – give or take – before conceding to the weather and accepting the final mile was lost to rain. We exited the park at 12th Street and 8th Avenue. After an hour and twenty minutes of disorientation and downpour, the last vestige of a pack made a breakneck r*n for the On-In, spotting a final mark on the corner 15th and 5th (thus I’m claiming I ran the whole trail). Everybody was wet. Everybody was thirsty. But the reacquainted pack, with the hares and one conspicuously dry JM, were jovial, happy to be warm and indoors.


And then… down-down’s a plenty:


Hares: Donner Kebab & Baboon Ass (To their credit: I’ve r*n worse trails)


Virgins: Not in this weather.


Visitors: Michiko, from NYCH3.


Hares again: Not setting the hotline because they lost the instructions. The aforementioned dog ate them, right?


Dogface: Setting the hotline while on trail… thank you, Roy!


Michiko: Bringing two bags of glassware; try Tupperware next time.


Noah’s Dingy & Whoremaster: Only dry ones in the bar


Barnacle: Commemorating the camaraderie of those who attempted to finish the trail by continuously stating “We have a saying: Semper Fi!” That’s United States Marine Corps, Captain Canada.


Some dingus for leaving articles of clothing, including “manties,” in the bathroom… okay, that was me.


Canine Fixation: Drying himself with napkins. Effective?


Headlights& Baboon Ass: Both enjoyed a down-down after a rousing “Happy Birthday,” hash-style.


Just Kelly: Taking a phone call in the middle of circle.


Just Kelly again: Left in the middle of trail to “put her dog away.”


Just Kelly again: This time for being unable to do previous down-downs properly. A hat trick!


And so circle ended, pizza arrived, and more beer consumed. The majority of the hash dispersed before the relatively early time of 10:30, possibly from torrential rain fatigue. Some time after leaving Buttermilk it came to me: I remembered after I set my first trail a former JM saying, “The good thing about setting trail in the rain: no one can blame you for a shitty trail.” I concur.



Nads on Film

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