The Syracuse Hash House Harriers

St Patrick’s Day Run

March 18, 2001

We started of in less than inclimate whether in the same place we always do, across from the YMCA in downtown Syracuse. Spirits were high as well as hem lines, creating an aura of happiness everywhere. In a flurry of shamrocks and flowing green skirts we took off over the city and through the parade, though we hardly ended up at Grandmother’s house.

Now, at this point it starts to get fuzzy for me as Just Dreana and myself were left behind by all those runner types. So we hightailed it through the slums of Shonnard St. and up past the zoo on to Tipperary Hill, puffing all the way. We caught up with the hash for the requisite picture under the stoplight before heading over to the Stone Thrower’s Delight, having missed Coleman’s.

Songs were sung and I was informed by dear old 18in. that the trail only worsened from here on out. So after singing a few Irish melodies, Mr. Stiffy, Just Dreana and I hopped a ride to the next bar in style, watching the Duke game on the way. Exiting the limo, we found ourselves at the Blarney Stone. And of course, we had ...more beer. And then back into the limo.

And then things got interesting. As we entered the Charles St. Tavern, we were heartily informed of the arrival of more hashers. Ball Wrinkle (my favorite hasher of them all) and Beaver Balls, to be exact. However, much to my dismay, BW had brought nothing for me to steal from him. Oh well, next time. So we ate and we drank and we danced Irish jigs. We even consorted with Larry, Curly and Moe until we made our way on over to the next bar. At Hoosey’s things went downhill quickly. Mr. Stiffy and Just Dreana melded together to form Glow in the Dark Garp. BW had somehow transformed into a Russian Grandmother. And I’d earned myself some Shamrock pasties for a well done snow angel.

We tried to ignore the insanity as we headed into Charades, but perhaps it was the pungent smell of Clorox that clouded our minds (I really thought I saw RuPaul there....). Luckily no one jumped into the bleach laden fountain. Instead we gathered together to sing a few tunes and give a few winks to the lovely ladies patronizing the bar. Making sure we had sanitize ourselves in the sparkling water of the flowing fountain, we headed on to our next stop. And we actually managed a run this time. It took forever to get there. It was a whole block away!

So after that, we wound up at Rosy O’Grady’s. Somehow we had managed to pick up a few extra people along the way, as the limo wa packed with hordes of non-hashers. I had to tunnel through them just to find a familiar face. Running through a blinding snowstorm we found our way into the bar and continued our revelry. We were loathe to leave and for good reason. (Other than the fact that everyone was enjoying my Shamrock Pasties. The storm had kicked up fiercely. We made our way through the blizzard to the limo and wound our way down the street to Nibsy’s. Somehow...and I’m not exactly sure how....Beaver Balls managed to get myself, Groin Grinder, Ball Wrinkle and a few others to Clark’s Ale House downtown. By that time I had lost Just Dreana and Mr. Stiffy....at Clark’s I was abandoned. *Sniff sniff* but found only a short while later and hauled off to Kitty Hoynes and then Mulley’s to be reunited with dear Mr. Stiffy and Just Dreana. We spent the rest of our evening licking gold toilet seats...oh wait....that’s another story.

And that’s the truth as far as I’m concerned.

OnOn!

-Gonna Blow!