NYCH3 Run# 824 actually 825 Hares: Alice Harrison & Geoff Baldwin Start: Dyckman St. on 1,9

On-In: Coogan s, 168^th St. & Broadway Scribe: Dave Long

Having already been out running the same morning with psycho runner Marie, I must admit that I was not particularly looking forward to a Geoff Alice trail, since they can usually be guaranteed to be a) very long b) very dangerous c) invisible or d) all of the above. What with the weather warming up, I felt sure that we might be led somewhere where we stood a good chance of becoming this year s first West Nile mosquito victims. The journey to the start was arduous enough, but mostly my own doing, since being too tight to nip down to the local Kinko to get photocopies I had decided to schlep all the way downtown to the office and do it. Result: a return journey north practically the entire length of the 1,9 line. Predictably, I saw the pack disappearing just as I got off the train at 3:20, but fortunately the hares were waiting for strays and latecomers. I was not in fact the last to arrive, as Crofty had bravely decided to run to the start and misjudged the distance by about five miles.

 

Oddly, this trail had a chicken-eagle split after about the first fifty yards. Evidently not even hashers are shagged by this far in, as no one apparently took the chicken, not even Michele who, being uncharacteristically prissy, complained that she might rip her running tights on the eagle. I was in fact directed to the eagle trail by some wino, possibly a former (or current) hasher. This went up the first hill of the day and through some woody stuff into Highbridge Park. The usual sights to see here trash, a car engine, more trash then some hashers came into view. New boot Magreta was gamely fumbling her way through the undergrowth and probably wondering why she had volunteered for this in the first place. There followed the most treacherous part of the trail, down a steep and pretty slippery hill. Ewa was making some pretty scared sounds at the top, being the gentleman I am I left her and continued sliding down where I met Fluffy and Michele, who was being very careful not to rip her tights. Danny got some major grief and a down-down for feigning concern for female hashers safety on the hill and using this as an excuse to hit on them. Funny, I seem to remember him doing the same thing in a dark alley in Brooklyn last summer I think we ve got your number mate!

 

In hash reverse-physics, what goes down must go up again, and sure enough after a brief jog along Harlem River Drive we were directed uphill again. This wasn t for the fainthearted either, in fact some people were probably wishing there had been a beer check halfway up (I know I was). The reward for this ascent was a few flights of steps. Great hash for toning up the butt muscles if nothing else. A few blocks down Amsterdam Ave. led to another check leading back into the park and past that mysterious round tower thing visible from the HRD (Baldwin s Folly?). Tiger s Woody ran over to the cliff edge, but fortunately I managed to talk her out of jumping, surely much more fun to drink yourself to death at the on-in TW? The next check stumped everyone for a while, but was eventually solved by Rick heading west. Almost unbelievably, that was it. Finito. A week after the shortest Dave Long trail on record, we had the shortest Geoff Alice trail on record. Maybe this can be explained by the appearance of Troise a couple of weeks ago I reckon he slipped some mind altering HALT drug into the Guinness (although I imagine that by the time you read this, Elaine, Pat et al have probably destroyed that theory). Geoff had thoughtfully neglected to mark the outside of the on-in, causing Rick to overshoot and giving Steve Y. the honour of being the day s FBI (First Bastard In).

 

It is indeed amusing to think of Geoff, English Imperialist, walking into the Irish Republican clubhouse of Coogan s and getting them to do business with him hey Geoff, how do we know that the hash cash wasn t going straight to NORAID?

Anyway, it s a goodly on-in venue and they keep the beer flowing. People wondered why there were pictures of Basil on the wall until they realized it was in fact Gerry t Call Me Grizzly Adams. We were joined by Robocop, visiting from London on behalf of the Metropolitan Police to learn about new techniques in shooting people from the NYPD. Lesley was deservedly given the AOTW award for numerous crimes including, but not limited to, breaking her wrist and then trying to burn down her newly purchased apartment by turning on a halogen lamp without removing the packing paper. Geoff and Alice were given an extra chug after it was revealed that the trail had in fact been set the previous Thursday. So that s why we can never find Alice s trails! By the way, good news, I can report that Michele s tights were indeed rip-free after the run, which didn t however stop her getting a down-down.

 

Good trail, good on-in. This shit has to stop!

 

On out.

NYCH3 Run# 826 Hares: The Jungle Brothers a.k.a. Danny Chokiri, It s Pat Cuff, Elaine Kerr, Kerry McVeigh Start: Monkey Bar, E54 St. On-In: Gin Mill, Amsterdam & 82^nd

Scribe: Dave Long

Me Tarzan, you hash?

 

It came as no surprise whatsoever that I awoke on Sunday morning to the guy on the radio informing me of a winter weather advisory in effect. Of course, 70 of sunshine on Saturday, what else did we expect but a blizzard the next day, especially when Danny and his accomplices were expecting us to turn up in nothing but a loincloth and a smile? One look out of the window at the snow coming down was enough to convince me that this was not a good idea. I mean, Tarzan is undoubtedly hard, but even he wouldn t put up with having to wear gloves in case his hands (by the way, I originally typed there by mistake Freudian slip I guess) froze and he lost his grip on the vine. In the jungle, that sort of thing can be dangerous.

 

Nevertheless, people tried in varying degrees to get into the spirit of this much-vaunted Tarzan and Jane run. I suppose it helped that most of the sourpusses and whiners were either at home in the warm or away on the Dog s Bollocks trip to Paris. There were several examples of How Tarzan And Jane Would Dress On A Cold Day on show, ranging from leopard skin boxers worn over running tights, to what looked like old rugs made into makeshift animal skins, to fur hats. Not too jungley, but not bad considering. Scot was looking very dapper in a complete and very garishly coloured camouflage outfit. I m not sure where one would actually use an orange and yellow camouflage, unless perhaps war broke out in the Botanical Gardens, but it certainly made him easy to spot some camouflage! Joy was probably the closest to the real thing what with (literally) a monkey on her back Cheetah, presumably and lots of leopardy looking stuff. I arrived late to find this strange looking bunch making their way up Park Ave and of course pretended not to know them.

 

We had been promised plenty of jungle-related fun and games on this run, what was in store we wondered apart from a fucked-up trail? Quicksand perhaps? Python wrestling? (and I don t mean apres-on-in activity for those with dirty minds). Nothing so dastardly as it turned out. The trail entered the park at the zoo entrance, but did not actually go through the zoo, which is fortunate as there s a fairly good chance that some of our number might not be let out again. Instead, it crossed over the road and rounded the imaginatively titled The Pond before heading back east around Wollman Rink. There was plenty of rock climbing for those who enjoy that kind of thing, while the lazier among us went around. Apparently, at the next check we were supposed to do a spot of rope climbing, trouble was, nobody saw the ropes, which Pat and Kerry were devastated to find out later. Only they could go to all the trouble of putting up ropes and then laying the trail so that the whole pack would miss them.

 

We ploughed on to the equally imaginatively titled The Lake where we were invited to swim across. Rick was on the other side looking decidedly dry however, and not being in much of a walking on water mood, I decided to go around the long way. We frolicked through the ramble and Belvedere Castle, but were brought to heel at the next check, at a playground. Seth, Rick and myself went barking up all the wrong trees until eventually some intelligent person solved it going south. It paid off too, as the next stop was the hot chocolate/mint schnapps check! (Pat explained that it was in fact going to be a Jungle Juice check, but it was a little chilly for that). Having had our fill of this delightful brew, there remained a short jog to the on-in at the Gin Mill.

 

Continuing the jungle theme, we were given a banana each as proof of purchase against our hash cash there was slight panic for a while as people thought that was the only food they would be getting. It is amazing how quickly a banana can turn black in unfavourable conditions, as evidenced by the state of Rick s banana when he removed it from his pocket a few hours later. With half of the mis-management away pissing it up in Paris, it was left to yours truly to perform the circle. Still, there were plenty of offenders. Our lone visitor was Amy, from Solihull in England, who when asked her hash name, came out with the interesting reply I don t know which cock to suck . I could see the eyes of the males present light up at this, but unfortunately for them she seemed satisfied with just having a banana shoved in her mouth instead. Very forward, these English girls

 

Scot got a sympathy down-down for having got a nasty case of poison oak from the previous week s hash. Hey, wear that camouflage outfit too many more times and you re likely to get attacked by a swarm of bees mate! Pierre, meanwhile, got a chug not for doing anything wrong but in fact for doing something right, namely turning up on time for a change. Unfortunately it transpired that he could only do this by setting his watch ten minutes fast. I wonder if he ll fall for his own ruse twice in a row? Lapin de jour was Junior, who was first in along with his fellow short-cutting bastard and bastardess Studgate and Melissa. Then of course were the hares, who were shoo-ins for the plunger award simply for having set a jungle run in blizzard conditions. I was forced to single out Danny and Pat however as double a-holes for choosing the exact same start location for their NAWW hash as the following Sunday s hash. Now that should make Sunday s trail very interesting! (but by now I guess you know all about it).

 

Revelry continued well into the evening with a certain amount of monkey business going on. At one point, Danny managed to get himself bound at the wrists and ankles and was carried into the bar by Rick, who unfortunately was unable to get a decent price for him so just let him go. Obviously annoyed by this, Rick vented his anger by chugging a whole bowl of marinara sauce - c mon Rick, I didn t think the beer was all that bad. The hash dancing crew resurfaced after a lengthy absence (without its leader, Crazy Bob) and fittingly, Jungle Boogie was the order of the day (feel the funk y all!).

 

Jungle Brothers Inc. good idea, good hash, good on-in. But next time, can we please please please do it in the summer?!

On out.

NYCH3 Run# 827 Hares: John Lynch, Debbie Ulis & Paul Ashlin Start: Main Post Office, 32^nd & 8^th On-In: Jake s Dilemma, Amsterdam & 81^st Scribe: Dave Long

Ah, the golden age of technology. Knowing that filling out tax forms is such a bore, the whizzkids of the software world have made it possible for us to file our tax returns over the web, thereby not only saving us precious time which we could otherwise be spending on irresponsible binge drinking, but enabling us to get our money back faster too. Yeah, right. What this appears to mean in reality is that not only are we faced with the annual headache of doing our taxes, but we are also driven into a further state of frustration and desperation by confusing and unreliable tax software, dysfunctional websites and snail-like connection speeds. Far be it from me to stand in the way of progress, but let s just say I think I could have done the job in a third of the time by hand (reminds me of a comment once made to me by a former girlfriend).

 

I m rambling on about taxes because not only was this John Debbie s debut as hares, but it was also the Tax Evasion Run, being held the day before the (extended) filing deadline. Paul had been invited along presumably as the tax auditor to make sure the trail wasn t too badly fucked up, which is a bit like inviting Edward Scissorhands to supervise an origami class, but never mind. After a week of annoyingly cold weather, it had turned warm and very humid, which soon had people wilting out on the trail. As a variation on the chicken-eagle split, John explained that there were two choices of trail, the 1040EZ or the 1040 long form , although he didn t say whether we could claim a deduction on our hash cash if we completed the long form. The pack of about twenty five kicked off with a full tour of the post office, the first of several points on the run alluding to taxes and money (although sadly, it also seemed at one point like we were doing a tour of Dave Long s great client site screw-ups ).

 

We did a winding tour of midtown, going from west to east via Bryant Park, then passing through Helmsley Passage , where a hash mark warned us to not get caught (tax dodging) like Leona . I think she was the one quoted as saying only little people pay taxes , so Mickey Mouth is obviously an exception to that rule as we discovered later. There was a fairly nasty check at the Plaza, which wasn t helped by a few bogus false marks which were actually in the right direction. But hey, it s always a pleasure to run up and down Central Park South a few times and take in some of that lovely horseshit smell. The reward for eventually finding trail was a beer check right in the middle of the park, featuring John s 1040 Special Home Brew and very tasty it was too. Devo amused himself by climbing a tree while Hard Man blew straight by, later claiming he had not even seen the beer check. That may be so Dave, but we all know you can smell beer from several hundred yards away, so it just doesn t wash. Anyway, this act of ingratitude earned him a chug later on.

 

By now we had covered a fair bit of ground, so the thought of the long form was not too appealing, but as it turned out it wasn t too bad, going a few blocks further north and circling around on Broadway to the on-in. The interior of Jake s was black as night having come in from the daylight, and it was all I could do to fumble around and find a glass and a pitcher. Not surprisingly, most people chose to hang outside for a while until an explosion-like clap of thunder scared us inside again. Tiger s Woody turned up at the on-in with blood everywhere and her arm hanging half off o.k. a slight exaggeration, but she did have a small wound on her arm which apparently had been inflicted by a pole which jumped out and bit me . Quite why Ewa did this is still a mystery, but resident forensic scientist Trotskyo (fresh from staging yet another triumphant coup on the Dog s Bollocks committee) assured us that yep, the bite radius on Stacey s arm definitely matched Ewa s.

 

Junior was awarded a consolation down-down since this was to have been his wedding day (Mark maybe it was the Tonka toys that put her off??). He was also honoured to be presented with a Marriage Just Say No t-shirt by it s creator and legendary champion of the single man John s Bollocks Burke, making a rare appearance at the hash and actually running the trail into the bargain. The two non-taxpayers, Lesley (no wonder she could afford to buy an apartment!) and the aforementioned Ms. Mouth (no wonder she can afford to go back to school!) were duly punished. We were then treated to yet another female virgin making a bid for the slowest down-down ever (she s still there). Half the hash played pool while the other half amused themselves in conversation about whether hash cash really can be claimed as a charity contribution, getting drunk and eating peanuts. A lot of people left early (probably to do their taxes), personally I was loathe to walk out into the daylight again so decided to wait for nightfall. Any excuse. Good job J, D & P - trail, great homebrew and non- taxing on-in!

 

On out.