PHHH Run # 1242

Date: Thu Jan 29, 2009, 7:00 PM start
 
Hare:  DP

Hounds:  Hey Yo Paully, Hare in my zipper, Runner Girl, Discomfort and the cold dark chill of old man winter

Time:  ~1 hour plus a little more, travelling at 2 MPH if that much.

Weather:  20ish F, dark, sliver of moon, day old frozen snow and ice covered trails.
 
Location:   Cook Natural Area
 
4 intrepit souls set off into the darkness, with 2 decent torches among them they set about looking for 
occasional hints of where the previous soul who had come before them.   Hares quickly resembled the Zambia 
ice skating team after discovering that training on football fields with clogs was not effective.    As the 
moon quickly sets hares spread out and then regrouped frequently, wishing they had brought a good blood 
hound, or at least something 4 legged that could follow a trail better than them.  After following paths 
through abononed houses, building ice bridges and generally sliding their way around, they spot in the 
distance a glow.  What could that be out here in the darkness?  It is not the incessetant glow of street 
lights and front porch lights that society believes must be left on all night long to ensure that absolutely 
nobdody can enjoy the darkness.  It was not the flicker of car lights as others race down country roads to 
get home from their meaningless jobs.  It had a warm sense to it, an inviting amber bouncing off the snow 
and ice.  As the hares stop looking for tiny pats of colored flour, they are drawn like moths to the flame.  
And there laughing hysterically they find him.  How long has he been out here in the woods?   Why does he 
choose this as his abode rather than a warm home?    He seems friendly, he draws them in closer.  The warmth 
of the flame, the smell of food roasting and the site of a growler next to the fire relax their senses.    
As the hares relax, he shares his plentiful bounty.  Slowly he tells his story and they are more understanding.  
They start to understand the whys and hows of his situation.  They wonder too if this might the better way 
forward.   As the growler level decreases, the crackling embers start to die down and the scant chocolate is 
shared, they say their good nights, but refuse to say good bye.