Monday, April 10, 2017

PooF "Returns" (A Boston marathon pre-lube trail)

What: PooF trail #eighty something
Where: A dirt road in a park in Rhode Island
Who:
Hare: O’Boner (#50?)
Pack:
Bleeps (Founder), Nips (Founder), Counterfeit Dick (#6), The Butler Hit It (#9), Bring Out the Gimp (#12), Wikipedophilia (#42), Too Short To Tuck (#48?), Easy as 123, No Man on the Moon

Essentially walking trail:

With the long winter recess the 2pm sharp part of hares away as quietly ignored as the hare strolled off at a leisurely pace at or around 2:15, and we finished our start beers and walked after her a few minutes later. Trail followed the path along the stream until it got to a check, which Counterfeit and I decided to scout up the hill (hash runs uphill), though trail was called straight down the path. We paralleled the trail for a while, running through the underbrush, but still being outpaced by those walking on the trail so we give up the high land and rejoined pack for a check at the whichy-way, and, after scouting wrong again, rejoined them a second time as they stuck to the low ground along the river. We hadn’t started running yet, and were walking causally to a fork where the trail cross the longest actual hiking trail in rhode island - the north south trail - and we followed that to a check at a footbridge over a tributary stream to the main body of water we were running along. Having just hit our stride, the hare thought the bridge would be a good break and turn us finally uphill and upstream to a surprisingly close beer cheek.

Nothing of note happened at the beer check; I learned that it’s acceptable to pee near a river, but not in it? The morality of that judgement illuded me. Remembering that PooF has running beer checks we finished our beers and ran off into a thicket of rhodedendrons.

Running along a river and being scared:

After dodging through a rather thick thicket of rhodeys we emerged back on the main trail running along the river, and finally were able to get our legs churring and keep a respectable running pace. Well, it wasn’t really running, it was a combination of high stepping and leaping from boulder to boulder along the trail, all the while dodging over millions of little rivulets which crossed the trail every 10 yards or so. We had been doing this for a while when we go to a check that had a market false into a raging river and then a song check on a rock. Sensing that pack could use a break, Counterfiet launched into a song about the perils of being a jelly fish on a rock. It was an apt metaphor for something, but I really don’t care what. Trail from there continued on and eventually crossed the river on a bridge populated by local high schoolers who I think were out taking selfies? It was a confusing time for all involved. There was a check on the other side of the bridge that did not asset in lessening the confusion. The FRBs - Counterfiet, Easy, No Man, Butler and I, were sufficiently confused that we were running around it litteral half circles (because of the river) until the walkers caught up and pointed “Um, guys, there are marks right down there.” Sufficiently embarrassed we took off in the indicated direction until we got to a dirt road. I checked right and saw nothing, then checked left and, taking Easy and No Man with me, ran a very jog up a hill, then a right turn back into the woods to find easy looking quizikaly at a mark that was clearly some form of a check back 8. No one else had followed so we ran back and turned into the woods, not catching up with pack until we were almost at the second beer check. Oh, we ran past a pair of dudes out on a camp out weekend in the Rhode Island woods - they were cooking some form of meat and drinking non-shitty beers as we ran past.

Beer Check the Second:
It was a beer check; we drank.

A merciful trail down hill.

I know it sounds too good to be true, but the entire last leg of trail was down hill, either on switch-backing trails or straight through the woods. I was following the surprisingly lithe and limber form of Gimp bounding, heedless of his name, through the woods. There was a group hug that I ran past and one time I tried to jump off a rock with the support of a tree, but the tree snapped and in a very inelegant way, we - it and I - kind of fell haphazardly to the ground. Luckily no one saw us.  Trail eventually went back out to the road, and I started an open-legged sprint to the cars, but saw a check and veered hard back into the woods. I found no more marks, but I did run into Easy and No Man and the three of us walked back to the cars, essentially being DFLs.

Circle:

Was held by the river. The hare was called in and drank for responding to a facebook post suggesting a restart of this quasi-retired kennel. That didn’t actually happen, but this is a post-fact world, and being scribe has some powers. She then sang a surprisingly good song which I liked but didn’t know. FRBs were called in - Counterfiet and Nips - and they drank, then Easy and No Man were called in for DFLing and Counterfiet came back for having gone to 60 (i think) of these trails. I don’t remember that many other accusations, though I tried to make some and ended up drinking for illegal accusations?

That was it.

On - one down, eight to go - On

-Wikipedophilia, #42

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