GOOD
TIMES ON THE GO
Roving
party posses build friendships and muscles
WORDS
BY ADRIENNE VAN DER VALK | PHOTOS BY TABITHA JOST
It's sad but likely that whoever said, "Life's about
the journey, not the destination," never got to ride around town on
a neon streamered stingray or drink while chasing a guy throwing a
trail of flour behind him. Eugene partiers are luckier. Those who
want more out of their social lives than playing pool at a bar have
some athletically based options available, thanks to a few organized
and original thinkers who, with the help of their fellow footloose
fun-seekers, have broken the party mold and let the celebration spill
out into the streets.
For the past two years, Eugene's Bike Brigade has
embraced cycling as more than a means of transportation. Combining
funky bike bling, costumes, a sound system and anywhere from seven
to 30 friends, this visionary posse has made mounting two-wheelers
(and any other non-motorized transport) an event in and of itself.
Long-term brigade participant Tabitha Jost explains that unlike Critical
Mass, which has a distinctly political and environmental focus, the
biweekly rides she and her friends plan are meant to celebrate the
festive side of biking as a group.
"The whole intent with Bike Brigade was to get a dance
party into the streets, to have fun and stay safe," she says. "We
make noise. We're not protesting."
Jost is one of a handful of organizers who inform
riders of upcoming events and choose themes for the rides. "There's
a lot of color," she says, explaining that many of the participants
are artists who put tremendous effort into the visual component of
their mobile shindigs. Eugeneans unaware of the brigade may feel bewildered
upon encountering a rolling crew dressed like "rock star cowboys"
or "furry fuzzy friends" ("It was cold and wintertime!" Jost says
of that particular theme), but this flamboyant fellowship quickly
makes itself a welcome part of any scene. Dismounting long enough
to do some dancing or parade through a local business (Sweet Life,
Laughing Planet and Territorial Winery are regular stops), the brigade
keeps its momentum by moving through several points on the party map
before settling in for the evening.
"We end up going to Davis' at the end of the night
to dance," Jost says. "And in the summer we go to Kesey Square and
a DJ meets us there. People who want to go to the bar can go there
and come back."
Jost says the brigade isn't specifically oriented
toward drinking although some of their members do indulge. "Alcohol
and bikes can be destructive," she reflects. "We try to be about safety,
so we don't want people falling off their bikes." As a unit, the brigade
wholeheartedly embraces a definition of partying that translates into
being creative and physical.
"We want to show others that it is important to dance,
and we encourage all types of transportation. We've had runners with
us, skaters, we've even had fire dancers. Bring an iPod, and Bike
Brigade will play your music!"
The brigaders aren't the only nomads in search of
a party-on-the-go. The Eugene Hash House Harriers (a self-described
"drinking club with a running problem") keep alive a tradition that
originated pre-WWII and now flourishes in every major city in the
world. "The 'hash' was a pub for British soldiers on an island in
Indonesia, one of the locations where the expats met and had beer,"
explains avid hasher Iain Young. "In 1937 these soldiers had spent
months there doing nothing, so they originated a game of 'hounds and
hares.'" According to Young, the "hare" ran through the jungle, leaving
a trail of flour for the "hounds" to follow. Celebratory beer drinking
followed. Fast forward 70 years, and hashing is still practiced in
a remarkably similar format, with the substitution of an urban jungle
and a greater emphasis on the social drinking that happens throughout
the chase. Modern "hares" still use flour to create their trails,
a practice that led to Young's near arrest during a hash in California
when police suspected him of spreading arsenic on the street.
While running and drinking may seem like a counterintuitive
combination, Young explains that having a love for beer is really
more important to the hash than being a star athlete. "The only competitive
element is who can drink more," he says. "The emphasis is on camaraderie.
We sing rugby songs to break down inhibitions. We all have hash names."
And though hashers may enjoy tipping back plenty of pints between
running stints, Young (or "Three Ball Jay") observes that the group
members also look out for each other's well being. "You rarely hear
of a hasher getting a DUI."
Young and his wife have participated in hashes all
over the country; in some cities hashes can consist of over 200 participants.
"It is an amazing way for people to acclimate to a new town. I never
worry about meeting people. It is an instantaneous social group. We're
very diverse in our careers and our interests but we all have social
drinking in common."
For more information on where and when the bike
brigade rides, visit www.myspace.com/rainorshineweride
For more information on the Eugene Hash House Harriers,
visit www.eugenehasher.googlepages.com
