BH3 #564

BH3 564 5/2/11

Hare: Drippy Sac
Start: 4th ave and 9th st
OnIn: Buttermilk
Scribe: Death Breast

What do you get when you mix a tall guy with stress fractures, a crapload of crumbly drywall, too much time, and a hatred toward fast Canadians? Throw in a canal that should be drained for high concentrations of Syphillis but instead allows boats under its drawbridges…and you get our trail, ladies and gents!

A small pack of mostly over-30 hashers (our hare seems to be ageist), gathered on a pretty lovely, albeit grey May day. Our hare was dressed provocatively in his almost jean shorts whining about a stress fracture and gloating about his ridiculous trail. When asked if he needed a bag hag, he kept his hands in his pockets and macho-ly announced that "it’s not like I’m walking there, anyway."

The pack took off through the Slope and down into Red Hook, where the Canadian flag check thoroughly confused Barnacle as he proudly walked down every single false trail, leaving the pack stranded (but also happily laughing and pointing) for a good 5 minutes. When he finally found the trail again, he was promptly stopped at a flashing gate. The pack whined about his inefficient trail-finding skills while awaiting the surreal Gowanus drawbridge and boats to pass.

After that, I don’t remember a thing…about the trail. Some confusing marks and maybe a phone call to the hotline allowing half the pack to shortcut directly to the most wonderful On In in Brooklyn. We’ve been to Buttermilk so many times in the past year, tipping the same bubbly-always-happy-to-see-us-always-remembers-our-beer-preferences bartendress, we could probably put her through school. I think every male hasher is in love with her. Even I have a bit of a girl crush.

Down downs are from my memory:
-Hare Drippy Sac for all sorts of crap
Barnacle because there’s always a problem
Cheeky Bastard for being a Stinky Bastard
Fast American Dave for almost being hit by a car and other things (was he called up? I have no memory)
The Body for showing up
-Other stuff

We drank delicious beer; there was pizza. Strange, those things.

I walked home.

On Out!
Death Breast


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