Dr. Kimble, of course you’re shocked to read that, hared the trail for the Gypsies last Thursday and pulled the pack, a small one, together at one of his favorite haunts, the Town Park in Corte Madera where, of course, no alcohol is allowed! Dr. K figures this is a good start location since he can stagger home, the Post Office is across the street so he can drop off his bills, and the police are around the corner just in case Hand Pump goes off the deep end! Of course ALL that parking is a grand thing to have. The, um, non-alcoholic keg of Lagunitas Day Time IPA was quenching the thirst of the pack and clearly the civilians picking their wee ones up from soccer or whatever were looking like they would rather be hanging with the pack. Dr. K had promised the pack a new trail and knowing Dr. K that led One Night Only to be at the start an hour early so she could be sure to give herself enough time to do the trail. While ONO was off abusing herself Just Fuck Off preached a sermon to the pack from a Missal supplied by 5150 and the pack was treated to an insightful lesson on organs that can, um, chew and spit. JFO’s delivery had Just Ted aka The Other Bastard looking on glassy eyed and damp. Dr. K gave the pack a chalktalk explained the myriad of trails, Eagle, Eagle Supreme, Turkey, Turkey with Mayo, Walker and last but not least Stumbler. Needless to say the Lost Patrol of Tongueless, Fits In, Wash This Asshole and Pencil Dick stumbled off in search of marks. Just Mark flapped his arms and soared off on the Eagle Supreme. Pencil Dick quickly took command of the LP and his considered decisions plus his knowledge of our hare’s thinking saved the LP blood, sweat and tears. Trail took the pack through the Town Park Playground scattering the locals who grabbed their offspring and fled in fear. Once out of the park the pack careened through the campus of Neil Cumming School before crossing the bridge to Mohawk Ave. and being circle jerked back over bridge and through the park yet again. Now the hardcore were busy finding their way onto King Mt. PD looked long and hard at the steep climb and the LP voted to more or less just hoof it around. The “real men” and ONO were busy high on the steep hillside wondering why they hadn’t brought their wills along to be found with their bodies. Now this does not mean that the LP stayed on the flat ground, curbs can be high as WTA pointed out. Just to be on the safe side the LP passed Dr. K’s domicile and there was no beercheck. They actually made it all the way, not much really, to Willow Ave. before the siren song of the Sacred Thermi drew them back to the start. The park held substantially fewer civilians and the keg made it’s way to a picnic table along with the Sacred Thermi filled with coffee and the bottles of Irish Crème, Kahlua, and Crème de Cocoa to cut the caffeine. Dr. K always asks for coffee and Fits In makes sure there is something to mix with it. The first of the real pack to get back were JFO an JTakaTOB. Not to say they were sweaty but they looked like they’d swam the trail. Just Mark waxed enthusiastic over bits and bobs of the trail he knew and even more so over those that he’d only thought about doing. ONO was on trail so long that Dr. K was mumbling about a burial service. Hand Pump having been DFL on a number of Dr. K extravaganzas just kept opening packs of Vitamin J when out of nowhere ONO appeared looking fresh as a three-week-old daisy. WTA supplied chocolate to make sure people maintained their AC1 and when it was growler time the inner MacGyver came out and anything that could hold beer and had a cap was produced! Another fine waste of an evening. Cheers