January 12, 2014, RIH# Run # 1502
The Virgin Rocky Point, Warwick Hash
Hare: Sleeping Booty and Her Seven Toys plus one Glutenless Maximus
Pack: WHO, Ozzie, Klingon, Assquack, WIPOS, Just Lauren, Just Emily, Crotch Tiger, Bondo, Buddy and Pussy Foot and possibly some others lost to mammory
Hashit: Basket
Temp: 35, light rain with fog and rocky along shoreline and other places too

Rocky Point, once the premier clam shack and amusement park in Rhode Island, went bankrupt and closed the shoreline dinner hall in 1995. A fence blocked the entrance, and the RIH3 had not placed one foot upon the hallowed ground...until now. In late 2014, a nature walk and ferry dock was opened to the public. Our very own Glutenless Maximus has a nose for finding new areas (if you ask anyone, there is no more virgin territory in RI), and he and our virgin Hare, Sleeping Booty, christened the ground with flour for the first time. Unfortunately, a few of our regulars decided to pass on this opportunity, as they were unaware of it's availability and were concerned about trespassing. It was their loss, as this was the Best Hash of the Year.

A small pack arrived at the parking lot just outside the previously located main entrance. A sign that a $50 fine would be assessed for parking after dark, did not dissuade the Hares from choosing this location, more to the fact, after doing 3 recce's, they never noticed it. But as Rusty pointed out, most, if not all, parks and beaches have the same restrictions. The rain had slowed to a light mist and a thickening fog enveloped the area. At 6:30 we started out easterly towards the bay, a check had us going in all directions. It was most difficult to see anything with the headlamp illuminating the fog like a blinding flash of light, and a mist formed on my eye glasses making me almost blind...not that that's any different. I ran into the open field with WHO, and I thought we were under a power line. It turned out to be the gondola ride that took passengers to the top of a rocky outcropping. We ran further along, almost to the water, when we were called back, almost to the start.

Trail was picked up just feet from where we entered the field, passing through a great pile of boulders, that was to our left. They were 20 plus feet high, piled upon others. WHO just barely squeezed between two along a narrow path, and, following, I just passed them as we were called back again. True trail traveled up the rocks to the top and left under the old gondola cables. We continued onward towards water again when an RC was soon found, and some 'non-Rum' was offered the pack. It was a cross between Listerine and cough syrup, but strangely enough, I didn't mind it. Others, most except Just Lauren, had unfavorable comments, but they drank it anyway. When the bottle was empty, we were back on trail.

We continued out towards the water and found flour winding through the high reeds into a marsh. A YBF was found by Ass Quack just to my left, and we had to retrace our way back out. It wasn't easy finding trail, as the fog had gotten considerably thicker and our lights just made things worse. Eventually, we made our way out the shoreline, crossing, a long since abandoned, pavement, now overgrown and cracking. We could see something looming large in the distance. AQ and I both questions what it was, and it seemed to be off in the water somewhere. But as we ran along the beach, it came closer, and it turned out to be a high overlook, just above the pier, where a BS was spied. Beer was found in, what looked like, an old military bunker overlooking the bay. The cooler was packed to the hilt with some of the most god-awful beer(?), consisting of pumpkin, summer, spring, early fall offerings from an assorted number of breweries, and was, most likely, found in the discount locker at the local beer store.

After much searching, I found an IPA that wasn't half bad, even if being in a can, and all, save Rusty, enjoyed some orange food. Some singing was heard, but as OOzing pointed out, "It wasn't our best attempt." For some reason, the Beer Stop lasted a very long time, with the singing, drinking, munching and lots of discussing going on. Eventually, all good things must end, so we started back downhill. There was a steep drop-off and one had to be careful or find themselves 30 feet at the bottom of a large rock. Booty had found a trail, though earlier in daylight, and led us out to the flooded field that was once the amusement area. The pack found flour on the roadway back to the cars.

The Circle was formed just out off the parking area. Booty wanted to take us to where she had previously planned the end, but as the tide had come in, she was almost knee deep before turning around. We found, relatively, dry ground and enjoyed a beer as comments flew. Most of the remarks, all but one, were of what a great location, weather, virgin territory, and other platitudes. The only negative was the selection of beer. I believe Booty, WHO is a recent transplant, hasn't yet developed the 'beer snobbery' of the RIH3, that or she just found some cheep beer for the cheep fucks. WHO kept score and, as there were too many positives, rated it a negative 69. There were no back sliders, no noobs or two timers, or any other category to discuss, so we moved onto Hashit. OOzing tried to keep it himself, as he said Rusty stole it last week and he protested vehemently about the thievery. As things turn out however, it was thrust upon me for starting a verse of the wrong song and being absent minded. Did anyone mention old age setting in? A few songs were sung and then we hauled the still-overloaded cooler back into Booty's car and drove the the OnOn. I got lost traveling to the Shannon View Pub, and unfortunately brought Just Emily and Crotchy for the tour. Luckily, Crotch had a GPS and led us out of Never Never Basket Land. A small contingent of the RIH3 found their way, enjoyed beer and grub then went home.
That's all I got.
Basket
Rocky Point.