NYCH3 Run# 823 Hares: Dave Long & Melissa Scimke Start: 86^th & Lexington

On-In: Westside Brewing Company, 76^th & Amsterdam Totally Unbiased Scribe: Dave Long

The omens for this run were not good; take a novice trailsetter who has been in New York just long enough to find her way to the end of her block, and combine this with a trailsetting sado-masochist infamous on the hash for his (allegedly) impossible to find, extremely long trails, and you would seem to be asking for trouble. Never judge a book by its cover though – those brave souls who ventured forth to Lexington & 86^th this day were in for a pleasant surprise. They didn’t need to know that precisely half an hour before the scheduled start time the trail was unfunished and the on-in location unknown. On the hash, ignorance is most definitely bliss. The 30-or-so pack included hardly any of the revellers from the previous night’s HOBARD dinner*, although I was surprised to see Lord Kanaga there. This guy must be the ultimate masochist, having run nearly all of my most artistic disasters and spent the whole on-in moaning about them, but like clockwork he shows up at the next one. It was indeed he who dubbed me “Too Long” which I’m afraid to say is a reference to my trails and not my garden hose.

It was perhaps no coincidence that Melissa had dyed her hair red before this run, probably a precaution to avoid being recognized in the event that the trail was indeed fucked up. Fortunately, unlike her co-hare, she actually had some idea of where the trail was supposed to go before we started setting it. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it would head almost immediately into Central Park. It was also fortunate that we were far enough up 5^th Ave. to avoid running into hordes of flag waving Greeks, a total fluke since we had no idea there was a parade – as I said, ignorance is bliss. A check at 89^th & 5^th led into the park and north along the bridal path, heading around the reservoir. Another unmarked false trail here fooled at least one person, Alice, who was spotted from the crosstown getaway taxi and appeared to be going in completely the wrong direction. Brings to mind that saying about constants in an ever changing world…

This run was all park, which if you’re hashing in the city on a glorious spring day, can’t be a bad thing. Too bad the world and his wife were all sharing the park with us, but understandable for such daylight deprived folk as we are. The trail exited the park at 91^st & CPW but then headed straight back in and headed east again. This was all part of the attempted ruse to make everyone think the trail would be heading back to the east side, which fooled even a few veteran hashers like Marie and Hard Man. In fact, thanks to a back check at the Metropolitan, the trail headed west and through Belvedere Castle and the ramble before exiting once again at 81^st St., a few blocks from the on-in. It’s at this point that I must grudgingly admit that a woman’s touch prevailed on this trail, Melissa somehow managing to curb my long-trail instincts which would probably have involved taking in Morningside Park, Columbia and Riverside Park and thereby doubling the trail length. I must also add that I was moaning the whole way round that she was making the checks too darn easy and not “challenging” as I like to consider mine are, or “impossible” which is what everyone else seems to consider them. For some strange reason, Melissa in her hashing naivety actually seemed to care what people would think of the trail. Personally, I just don’t see it.

Now, it’s always a hare’s nightmare to get beaten to the on-in, but thanks to our Hellenic friends causing traffic hell, we almost managed it. No sooner were the bags unloaded and the first pitchers of water being prepared than Hard Man, Laird and Studgate…just a minute, something was wrong here, Matt arriving with those two FRBs? My worst fears had been realized, the trail was just too short and too easy! Farewell, Too Long. A glittering if infamous career in ruins. Isn’t there some saying about never trust a redhead? The rest of the pack were close behind, with the exception of course of Alice, and also Crazy Bob. He arrived last of all, but just when I had my hopes up that he might have got hopelessly lost on the trail, thereby preserving my record, he explained that no, he had merely stopped off at the Columbia flea market and done some shopping. To prove it, he was sporting a very tasty new watch made of kryptonite or something.

“Duck Of Death” Byron-Brown’s reaction on seeing the on-in was “oh, I suppose hash cash is about $75 then?”. True, the Westside Brewing Company doesn’t look like an obvious on-in, being a little more upscale than say The Shandon Star, but Melissa had worked her charms and managed to convince the owner of the sound business sense behind letting a crowd of sweaty drunks hang out in his bar for the afternoon, while giving us discount on not only the beer but the food as well. I guess she doesn’t have that MBA for nothing. Whatever, there seemed to be general relief that it wasn’t what had looked like the inevitable Jake’s Dilema. This place actually offers daylight as well, at no additional cost! Beer came thick and fast – the in-house brews only, called Red, Blonde and Raspberry, accompanied by about half a ton of chicken wings. Everyone save Slow To Blow agreed that the raspberry was in fact fit only to be used as drain cleaner, or in this case, down-down fodder. Now that’s a real punishment – I almost gagged on mine.

Matt got the rabbit ears even though he was not first in, but closer than he has ever been to it. Alice got the plunger for (I think) being very late in and then not believing she was at the on-in (hmmm…bogus “on-in” marks – interesting). The rest of the evening passed in a happy drunken haze, except for Keith, who since he had nothing to moan about regarding the trail, was obviously a little bent out of shape. Meanwhile, there were whispered stories of dubious goings-on the night before including some kind of simulated bestiality on the dance floor, but then I’m not one to tell tales, right Ewa?

On out.

* An annual dinner/dance staged for current and former officers of the hash so they don’t have to mix with the rest of you scum.