Type A's Bronx Death March Hash Trash

Yes indeed, though trail may have started in Manhattan it got all Bronxy real quick. Trail started at Le Chiele, where Brown Bread is not welcome, apparently, and took a brief detour up to the Highest Natural Point in Manhattan before heading out east. Leave it to the half-minds to not notice, even though I left a check on top of the plaque saying so. My pride and joy, the Choose Wisely check, was next up. As the pack got to the bridge at 180th, they were faced with two separate but equal trails. As these things often happen though, they were anything but. Equal, that is - both trails led across the bridge and to a check on the other side, but only one had a drink check on it. I thought they were pretty well separated by about 4 lanes of bridge traffic even though just Katie and Just Dan gave a horrifying amount of thought to dashing across before finally choosing wisely for once. Just Dan, charging along like a man on fire, was the first to the drink check, and after some frantic waving and screaming was convinced not to try to dash through 4 lanes of commuter traffic and looped back around. Just Katie was next, but turned back to retrace her steps, sweeping up most of the other wanks with her. Eventually everyone was together on the correct side of the bridge to enjoy the dubious pleasure of Agua de Jamaica I'd spiked with Peppermint Schnapps because I had it laying around from the Dirty Sex trail. After slamming a few glasses of what tasted for all the world like a fluoride treatment, pack was off again, to find that someone had set up a watermelon stand on our check. Oh, you Bronx! Eventually I showed up to explain to people that that mark you can see 90% of under the watermelon stand? Yea, it's a check, just like it looks like, and pack was off to scout. I went ahead to laugh at the FRB who fell for my stairway YBF but was F'ed myself when my bikerack, on which was piled all the trail's drinks and supplies suffered a bout of sudden spontaneous total existence failure. Fortunately no one was around to witness my humiliation but a very unhelpful Bronxite, and the half minds were bitched up enough on an unmarked false that led up an onramp to the Cross Bronx Expressway (that's a pretty good sign right there fellas) that I caught up with the FRBs at Crawford park and met Doggy Erectus for the second check. Store-brand Cherikee Red and Malibu was the order of the day, and went down pretty easy. Pack also started jizzing for joy over an icee man and some trampolines, but I cut out before I could see where that recipe for disaster went. Next up it was a short eastbound leg to get to Crotona Park where I was snared by Jerzey Asshole and we set up a drink check in a sunken swamp that was previously a picnic area before Hurricane Andrea. This time around it was fruit-smoothies spiked with Bacardi, which seemed to go down pretty uneventfully with the pack.Next leg went up into Tremont, and from there around the Little Italy in Belmont and up to Fordham road. Passing by one of the most poorly maintained buildings in the Bronx, which happened to be the HQ of Fordham's Facilities Maintenance