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Post date: Feb 21, 2014 2:07:21 AM
ack gathered at the Piper's Kilt in Inwood for Just Katie's virgin lay. Can't say I was there, as I was busy waiting for 35 minutes for an uptown train at 135th. But that's about par for the course for CUH3 trails in Inwood.
I hit the corner just in time to see the pack fly by, but it was alright, cause I was saved by Bolly and CPA, who generously allowed me to strip, change and dump my belongings into their arms to be carried on foot to the on-in, as the bag-hag-cab was already pulling out.
Trail went down to Sherman, then parallel to Broadway, jumping back up again to get the pack into the cloisters park. Katie decided to send us in the back entrance, aka climbing a downed length of rusty chainlink fence up the leaf-litter and regular-litter strewn hillside along Riverside Drive that those of you who were with us last summer may remember sliding down hours before you all broke out in a full body poison ivy rash. Thanks again, Copa and Head!
Up and around the cloisters museum proper, in a bit of foreshadowing the pack completely missed a turnoff through a gap in a wall, down an overgrown stairway to street level, and did a full lap and a half of the museum before realizing that something was up.
Trail went over and around Dyckman, then up 10th Ave. I should note at this point that the drink check was to the right, while I wa
s running down the left end of the road due to traffic. Nevertheless, missing the drink check was deemed my fault. Totally unacceptable.
Also Just Katie was left standing in the cold at the end of a pier for an hour waiting for her so-called friends to show up, but whatever. Same thing happened on my virgin lay. I stood, in 20 degree weather, in 4 inches of snow, wearing shorts, at the top of a very windy cliff on the edge of a gorge, gamely trying to drink ice cold bud ices (fun fact, the high alcohol content means they can get way colder than normal beer before freezing) until I couldn't feel my legs anymore. Meanwhile my pack got eight marks in, decided it was too hard to see the trail and went back to the start to sit around a fire, drink hot cocoa and schnapps, and eat home made chili and applewood smoked hotdogs. Think something like this, for three quarters of an hour.
Good haring isn't so much a process of learning what to do right, so much as realizing just how fucking stupid the pack can get and making sure their jackassery doesn't end up screwing you in any way.
After that we went down past Columbia's new M.C. Escherian fieldhouse to Inwood Hill Park, but not into it, which causes an NYC pack to collectively sieze up and blow a gasket, but Dildo Baggone eventually solved the check, and alienated every one of the frou-frou parkside fancy pantses by screaming On-On at the top of his voice for about ten minutes until the pack was suitably convinced that trail actually didn't go into a park. Then into Isham Park, and down to the Liffy II bar, which I'd been calling the City II bar for the last 4 years, because I can apparently not read gothic script.
Just Katie eventually showed up with her gatorade and vodka all shook up from the jog over. Nothing as appetizing as a dixie cup full of pink spume. Meanwhile someone took the liberty of adding the CUNTHHH's name to the giant Columbia banner someone posted outside the bar. Go school! Boola Boola!
The Columbia Alumni Association was out in force, since CU football had just been busy losing to Princeton, which meant mixing a heavily female pack and a bunch of Ivy league Doctor/Lawyer/Indian Chiefs, who also happened to be 7' thickneck ex-college football behemoths. Needless to say, circle had a hard time keeping everyone's attention. We literally had to drag our virgins in for their down-downs.
The last thing I remember before I had to cut out was a bit of unfinished business. We were planning on naming Just Katie, but we were having trouble coming up with something suitably horrible to saddle her with for the rest of her life. The top contenders as best I remember them:
Foamin' at the CUNT - for showing up with the fizziest gatorade I've ever seen.
Whore Next Door - for her generally good girl demeanor.
Park N' Ride - for having gotten lucky in Riverside park.
Shiggy Shag - Ditto
OverAnalyst - for her type-a (in both senses) planning of a trail, combined with her job of a business analyst.
There's probably one or two I forgot, and we took the moratorium to think of some better ones, so If you have one, let's hear i
t!Next trail will be this Saturday, hared by Cum Test Dummy for all you Thanksgiving orphans out there. Start will be at Amsterdam restaurant at 119th and Amsterdam at 3 pm Hash Standard Time. Should be an awesome time, and God knows I'd need a drink if the biggest thing going on for my Thanksgiving was standing in the cold at Times Square watching South Dakota's answer to Justin Bieber rock out on a Mt. Rushmore float in the cold (I shit you not that is what I'm pretty sure is on right now. Sounds off so It's hard to tell, but I am 100% that I saw Richard Simmons go by dressed like Beetlejuice, sprawled on a turtle, surrounded by kids in bunny costumes, pretending to jack off.)
Also, we had a visitor from NJ's Highland hash CockMaster & Commander at October's trail, and apparently their big deal trail is coming up. It's the highland Cold as Hell trail, it's in Jersey, and apparently it's reachable by public transit. I'll be looking into the details, so get at me if anyone wants to travel hash.
On-on,
Type A Hole.
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