Run # 1756, Nov 4, 2019
Just the Tip Strips Hash
Weather: Cold as fuck, with my breath fogging up my glasses.
Where: Grills Wildlife Sanctuary, Ashaway, East Bumfuck, RI
Hare - Just the Tip
Hashers - Rusty, Oozing, Crotchy, PG, WIPOS, Basket, Pubic Housing and Fecal Veneer.
I arrived first, about 6PM, wondering if I was at wrong location. There was no lights in the parking lot and what little there was of street lighting was poor at best. The parking lot was very hard to find in the dark. It was on a small triangular intersection off Rte 216/Ashaway Rd and Chase Hill Rd. There was a sign, but it was easily missed, in the dark. There was also a large number of trucks parked beside the entrance and it looked more like a junk yard. None-the-less, I pulled in and parked against the trail head in front of a sign 'Do Not Park" inscribed on the telephone pole barricade, and waited for the pack to arrive. Rusty was next followed by the Hare. We enjoyed his beer as we watched WIPOS, parking on the street, looking for the start. He had pulled up and stopped on the side of the road and just stayed there. He was parked there for at least a few sips of our beers and we wondered what he was up to. I suppose we could have approached him and told him he'd arrived, but it seemed better for us to bet on how long it would take him to discover it himself. Soon, he drove off and we all had a chuckle and continued to sip our beers. He came back a short while later and parked near our cars.
Next Fecal arrived followed by Just Gram and PG. The Hare, by this time, having supplied us with a beer and needed to mark the Whiskey Stop, left a bag of flour for me to give the Chalk Talk. Unfortunately, he didn't tell me what marks we'd find, so I did nothing to ease the pain of Just Gram nor earn my beer. The temperature was hovering in the mid 20's and I was wishing I brought gloves. Most had them on already, Rusty said his were in his car and might go back for them, and Just Gram was in shorts. It just goes to show you, the bigger they are, the more body mass they have, or something like that.
At 6:30 we started out, traveling south, on a rut filled dirt farm road beside a field. There were large puddles of water filling the ruts and we easily hopped and skipped over most of them. The Hare said we'd be getting wet and suggested a change of clothes would be well advised. It didn't seem so bad....yet.
At the first check, I went left with Fecal, and found a singular mark, while the pack, going right with Rusty leading them, found flour leading into a woody swamp. The next check was a bit more difficult to solve. Most of us followed the farm road, until we ran out of flour, then continued a bit further along before turning back. PG, being a skeptic, thought a bush-whack would be a possibility, and along with Rusty and Crotchy, WHO had showed up fashionably late, searched high and low. Rusty backtracked and picked up trail heading southwesterly along the a small track, that led over a lengthy wood bridge, that I would have been proud to have my name attached to it. It was at least 3, maybe 4 feet wide and went on and on, for a few hundred feet or more. Not at all like the wee bridge in Big River, where Amish broke his ankle, with Basket inscribed on the 6" thin bike-trail crossing a stream. No, this was a proper and magnificent bridge, that I'd be proud to have my name attached to.
The whiskey stop was soon found and we enjoyed some Jameson. A few songs were attempted, but not noteworthy (pun intended). Rusty was first to take off and after some time was back, again, looking in a new direction. Eventually, having finished the whiskey, we followed his lead south on a well marked trail and over another bridge through a large swampy area. This bridge was even larger than the last and one I'd proudly add my name to, but alas, it was not to be. Soon we bumped into the Hare pulling us in a new direction and over a very large steel bridge. Now, this was a bridge. A tank could have saftly crossed the river here. Soon, we traversed along an animal trail with water on both sides until we found the Beer Stop. Orange food and an assortment of beers were enjoyed, as we sang a few more songs. Interestly, a question about how this would all end came up, and there were a few options. The Hare asked if we'd like to swim across the river. A surprised look was on everyone's face. Looking down at the cold, deep, river had noone suggest that was a good idea. The Hare said we could go back along the 3+ miles we'd traveled to get here, and that didn't sound very promising either, so he suggested we could swim across the river, run the 1/2 to 3/4 mile bushwhack back to our cars, or he could do that and shuttle us back to the start. I don't think anyone thought this was worse then the previous suggestions, as HE was responsible for us being in this predicament.
The Hare then searched for a less-deep section of the river in the dark. His splashing and high voice indicated he wasn't have much luck and the water temperature was, pretty much, where we'd expect it to be. Back on dry land, at the Beer Stop, he said he'd make it and stripped down to his shorts. Carrying a bundle of his dry clothes over his head, he swam to the far side, dressed and started out, as we enjoyed another beer.
Deciding it'd be easer for him to find us a the second parking lot, very near our present location, we packed up the trash and cooler of beer a walked off, not knowing if he'd survive the frozen trek back to the cars. We crossed yet another fantastic bridge and in short order, found ourselves in the large southern parking area for the preserve. Discussing how cold the Hare must be by now, we opened another beer and made ourselves comfortable. It wasn't terribly long before he finally arrived and took 4 in his first trip. As we waited for his return, Rusty and I discussed the possibility that we could have swam across and ran back to our cars...then we laughed.
We were picked up and the 2 mile ride back was uneventful, but very warm. Back at the cars, we circled up and gave, mostly, positive comments about the Hare's swimming ability, but the trail, although being lovely, with fantastic bridges, could have been better laid. Still, it was a positive, mostly because WHO was not there, and he would have surely changed that mistake. As it was late, and we didn't have a bar close enough to beat the kitchen closing time, we all drove off to our respective homes. Pathetic, I know, but considering the location, time of night and temperature, I think it was a fine choice after such an interesting Hash. AND Nobody died.
It could have been a long swim.