Blogging the Hunt '05: Post 1. Thru THURS. 4:00 AM.

CONCEPT

PREHUNT

I'd offered to stay late yesterday since Ophthalmology was reluctant to let me take two days off. I arrived at work at 8:00 AM and left at 8:15 PM. Somehow, during this time, I prepped not only Thursday, but Friday and Monday as well.

I was headed for the #6 on Wacker, but intercepted a #173 instead, and with all this pulling in my favor, got off the bus in front of Ida Noyes by 9:00 PM.

I'd agreed to meet some other judges for a late dinner at 9:30 in the Pub, and since I had a few minutes, took a nap on the couch just outside the entrance. I was terrified, however, that they'd find me there and draw a moustache on my face or tie my shoelaces together. After a furtive twenty minutes, I got up and went inside.

I met Joe Levy (A Joe), newly returned from Antarctica, and he told me stories of not showering for four months and doing jumping jacks to stay warm for a few minutes until the other judges began to show up. I ordered Fish and Chips and had three beers. My only hope was a coincidence of adrenaline, caffeine, and numbness to keep me awake through the list release.

Most of the other judges eventually arrived at the Pub. In the end it was myself, Courtney, A Joe, Joe Anderson, Jess, Clinton, Kammerer, Sebastian, Lisa, and Colin. At 11 we headed over to Rockefellar to prepare for the list release.

THE LIST RELEASE

The plan for the list release was as follows. With the assistance of two judges and our "scav signal" (a monstrous 'S' projected on the side of Rockefeller by a great floodlight) we'd draw teams away from the traditional point of distribution of the list at Ida Noyes. Lists used to be simply handed to teams, but for the last seven years, antics have been involved, requiring between one person or dozens, and lasting between twenty minutes and two hours. Teams have come to expect such adventures, so now they arrive with large numbers in toe, and anything else which they think might help them.

Once the teams were to be assembled at the base of the bell tower, one member of each team was selected and led up through the darkness into the very heart of the structure, where they'd perform initiation rites of which I am sworn not to utter a word.

When the list was distributed, Judge Sarah and myself were to fire bottle rockets off the roof, as a pretext to the white smoke from smoke bombs that would signal the distribution of a list, and the beginning of the 19th Annual Scavenger Hunt.

Considering a number of incidental complications, things went off without a hitch. First, the U of C PD didn't arrive to let us into the building. I began thinking, "If I was a custodian of Rockefellar Chapel, and I had a dozen doors to
lock up every night, would I forget one from time to time? Probably," and so I began walking the perimeter of the chapel, trying each door I came to. Sure enough, a door of the northwest side was open, and I passed through and led the judges in the other side.

Of course, this had triggered the alarm in the building (no sharp surprise there), and it was only a couple minutes before the U of C PD did arrive, and started circling the building. Evidently, there were no signs of trouble on the outside, because they left without checking anything out further.

Sara and I were to be in charge of the bells and whistles (ie. smoke and fire), so we climbed the stars in the narthex, hoping to get access to the parapet that runs along the roof of the main chapel. Unfortunately, the doors were locked and padlocked, so we stumbled back down. The building was completely dark, and we were crawling up and down dusty spiral stairways with backpacks of empty beer bottles and Indiana Roman Candles. When we made it back down to the ground floor we were both sweaty and tried.

Plan B (which in the end worked at least as well as Plan A, if not better), was to climb all the way up the bell tower to the very top. For those of you not familiar with Rockefeller, the tower consists of about 150 feet of unilluminated spiral stairs, followed by three stories dodging between metal rafters and carillon bells, and then up another 150 feet of a narrower, steeper stairway. At the top, we tested one rocket (which was alarmingly loud) on the north side of the tower, then arrayed our goods on the east, within view of Ida Noyes. We figured that the teams would gather along the Eastern bank of the bell tower.

After we set up our devices, Sara and I strained between the gargoyles. The wind was much sharper up there than on the ground, but the temperature had risen slightly, and we hugged ourselves as we peeked over.

Soon, about fifty scavvies streamed out of Ida Noyes. I don't think I've ever seen anything that so vividly resembled a disturbed ant colony, and from three hundred feet up, they looked about as large. They came in two waves, and we made out white and black shirts, a spud gun, and at least two shopping carts. Down below was a chatter, but from our position, we couldn't tell what progress had been made inside.

The call came from Courtney telling us to be ready. Sara and I counted down two minutes, then set off the bottle rockets. Immediately there was cheering and response below. Unfortunately, the smoke bombs didn't catch, so I think that the Vatican Conclave reference was probably lost on most participants, but I'd rather have had the rockets than the smoke bombs. It certainly made for a dramatic intro to the Hunt.

Sarah and I quickly bagged the remains of our display and hurried down to the street. Within ten minutes, the place had completely cleared.

POST RELEASE

We returned to the Pub, which was in the process of closing, then relocated to Jimmy's, and ultimately to Courtneys. We all drank a bit too much beer. When we finally settled in after three, I had a Grilled Cheese Sandwich, but crashed without the usual installment of MegaMan.

I was also a bit of a crumb at one point. Jess had gotten a flat tire. Of course, she's had a lot of trouble this year with her tires riding a little low, so when I heard this, and that she'd already gotten help, I figured "help" meant pumping a little extra air into the tire to make it safe to ride on. Evidently, "help" meant changing the whole damn tire.

After everything had settled, however, sleep was easy. I fell asleep, while another six or so judges stayed away to watch the second half of a movie called The Funky Monkey.

More on its way...