Muscle Phart tells a story

The Blue Moon is December 31, and the last time that happened was December 31, 1990. We did a run that night, the hares were, I think, Scum Puppy and Glassblower (anybody recall for sure?), and it was one to remember. The night was cold, clear, still. Trail started just outside the Addicks flood plain, the hares indicating that it shouldn’t be too difficult to follow. Mounting the levee and looking down, we saw what they meant: trail was set, not in flour, but in luminaria; down the levee, up, curving, and down again, meandering throughout the woods and bogs of the plain, up and out again, all lit by little candles in sacks. On trail, oddly, there wasn’t much calling out (no need of it, really), just the sound of feet on grass and the occasional curse at stumbling. All we needed was a little Schubert and we could’ve been our own ‘Ave Maria’ sequence in that classic Disney stoner flick. Ended in a parking garage. I could swear

We did some bowling for tvs (which would be odd, that being a Valhalla, not a Hash, New Year’s Eve tradition), or did we? I recall going to the Valhalla party afterward, and not much else. Yup, one of those times to remember, such a good time, in fact, that parts of it go unremembered.