GAP’s last trail!

Hares: GAP, Immaculate ErectionPrelube: Courtside
Bag Car: Friar F*ck
RA: Velvet Pelvis

Pack: Anal Beads, Bisexual Bondage Bitch, Better Late than Pregnant, Catheter the Great, Certified Public An*s, Cum is Kosher, Dude Where’s my Virginity, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Fire in the Hole, Friar F*ck, General A*s Pounder (GAP), Goes Down on Buoys, Headmaster, Hare Club for Queers, Hoover McSuck and F*ck, I Eat Teabags, Immaculate Erection, an Inconvenient Poop, Jamaican Me Cum, Jizz Mopper, Just Vicki with an “i”, a lot of other “Justs” whose names I don’t know yet—please try harder to be memorable next time. Making a fool of yourself is memorable. Moaning Lisa, My Chemical Homance, Necrophiliac Jack, Nice Tits, Nipples Erectus, Pat My Fly, Peppermint P*ssy, Pubic Service Announcement, Queerleader, Save a Tree Ride a Cowboy (SATRAC), Shorn Scrotum, Ski Bobbit, Snatchsquatch, Spank Me May I Have My Mother, Spunk in the Trunk, Stick it to the Bros, Stinky Digit, Sucks Hard for the Money, Sugar Plum Fairy, Taj My Hole, Velvet Pelvis, Virgin Cara, Virgin Dan, Wooden Eye F*ck Her in the A*s, You Oughtta Blow, about 5 others who I didn’t see or whose names I don’t know.

A hardy pack of harriers and harriettes (I’d guess about 60) flocked to East Cambridge to experience what could be the last GAP trail ever (unless of course he comes back from Baltimore to make some cameo appearances, hint hint). It was in many ways a sad day, but in most ways a glorious day, as it was evident that GAP’s ability to get people lost in all parts of Boston has touched so many.

After downing the requisite beers and shots at the prelube, the pack made its way to a parking lot across the street, where Velvet took charge of the chalk talk. We were informed that the eagle trail would be “extremely wet, and life jackets would be provided.” Speculation ensued about where this swimming might occur, with most thinking it would be a in a dirty river or perhaps a quick jump in the harbor. For most it would be neither, emphasis on the “most.” **

Trail led away from the bar, through a park, and then into some sort of secret forest village. Hard to say if it was just a trash dump or living quarters for the unlucky. We were lucky to get out of there rather quickly. Next we scattered about a sand pit/train yard, tricked by a CB3 written on a plow, until we found trail once more. Then it was through the streets of Boston until we got to the climax of the evening. Drum roll, please…

The climax of the evening was marked by a BN and true trail mark on the dock at one side of the harbor, right across from the USS Constitution, pointing across to the other side. We could see GAP, Immaculate Erection, and a few others, waving to us from the shore. Buoys estimated that it was a 20 minute swim. Most folks weren’t even considering it and left to go the long/land way around the edge of the harbor. Then there was a group of us that was considering it. First order of business was to figure out how cold the water was. Buoys estimated 55°. He mentioned hypothermia being possible at such temperatures. Next came speculation about how strong the currents would be. Then, we noticed a police boat hovering near the dock. At that point Buoys deemed it officially a really bad idea to even consider swimming, since we might possibly be arrested. I (and I think many others) were happy to defer to the D1 swim coach’s opinion. It didn’t seem like anyone was gearing up to take the plunge, so the majority of the remaining pack started running.

When we made it to the beer check, we realized that some of the folks there were looking across the harbor towards the BN dock, and had spotted swimmers in the water! Who WAS it? As more folks filed in, it slowly became evident that it must be You Oughtta and The Second Cumming.

Boom! A cannon fired (a nightly ritual on the USS Constitution, but timed portentously), and at that very moment, the police boat started quickly moving towards the swimmers. As we watched the chase from shore, a semi-panic set in. It somehow seemed logical that the police boat was going to radio to the land force, and soon we would all be encircled and arrested for public drinking. I became terrified that You Oughtta may have (finally) managed to successfully sabotage her future career in medicine. While some kept reiterating that we should probably get out of there, most of us were too absorbed in the chase to stop watching. You Oughtta was out ahead, and had just managed to out-swim a large passenger ferry. It was harder to tell if The Second Cumming, was in its path or not.

After the ferry passed, the police boat swooped in and picked up The Second Cumming. You Oughtta was only about a 150 m swim from shore. Could she out-swim the police? Um, obviously not, as was aptly pointed out by Necrophiliac Jack, as the boat was, in fact, a boat. It came up alongside her, and, reportedly, she told them she was “fine” and wanted to keep swimming. But alas, the police did not oblige her request, and You Oughtta was also picked up by the police boat.

On the boat, the police lectured the two swimmers about the danger of hypothermia and informed them that most of the people pulled out of those waters were already dead. Go You Oughtta and The Second Cumming for beating the odds! “It will, however, make a great drinking story some day,” conceded the cops. Or in about 20 minutes! After giving their names to the police and officially refusing medical attention, the two hashers were let out on the pier and trudged to the on-in, still managing to arrive well in advance of bag car.

So for those of you who weren’t there, can you guess the on-in? OBVIOUSLY the Hong Kong. Everyone was thrilled to get there, and then not thrilled to discover that Friar and the bag car were lost somewhere in Greater Boston. Some of the savvier hashers had their IDs with them and were livin’ it up while the rest of us wallowed outside. Luckily, there was some outdoor entertainment in the form of a party trolley full of nursing students who had just graduated. Their shirts displayed the motto of the evening—“Nurses need shots too!” That group piled into the HK while the trolley blasted such classy tunes as Britney Spears’s “If You Seek Amy,” which has a really deep hidden meaning, in case you didn’t know. FINALLY, GAP ran down Friar, somehow managed to squeeze himself inside a backpack, and directed the bag car to the on-in.

Since this Hash Trash is way long enough already, I won’t say much about circle, but it was rather hilarious. Virgin Cara and Virgin Dan were demented, GAP was accused of being the worst hare in the history of the Boston Hash, You Oughtta and The Second Cumming obviously drank for being over-achievers, Dirty Latte and Wooden Eye also drank for jumping in the harbor but not swimming across, Buoys for putting on deodorant before the Hash, and medical professionals for being associated with the party trolley nurses. All in all, a fantastic evening.

GAP, you will be sorely missed. Best of luck to you buddy. May the Hash go in peace,

Fire