The Honi-Honi: 50 Funky Years and Counting

Most bars are famous in one way or another for something. A great open mic night, brunch scene, still allowing smoking, cheap beers, not checking IDs, nightly fist fights, etc...you get the gist.

Anyone lucky enough to have visited Maryland's Deep Creek Lake in the summertime is familiar with the legendary Honi Honi bar, famous for simply existing in it's own absurdity (and being an awesome fucking time). Places like the Honi Honi can't really be described, only experienced, but I'll do my best to sell the legend nonetheless.

When my family first started going to Deep Creek in the summer it was still somewhat of a secret. The place has since blown up and is now a hugely popular mountain destination in both summer and winter for people from Pittsburgh, Baltimore, DC, and parts of Ohio. As real estate prices have skyrocketed, the town's prime lakeside retail establishments have undergone plenty of turnover, which makes the longevity of The Honi that much more impressive. The bar got it's first liquor license in 1969 (nice) and in my 20 years going there, hasn't changed one iota. Despite a commitment to consistency that would leave most bars in the dust once the next hot spot opened, the Honi remains PACKED every Friday/Saturday/Sunday from Memorial Day to Labor Day. Now, part of that is due to the fact that it's the only live music bar on the water and has the square footage and infrastructure to support crowds of all types. Still, even Michael Jordan ran into the Pistons. The Honi's competition is non-existent.

The Honi Honi Bar fronts Route 219, the main road running through McHenry, MD where Deep Creek is located. The bar is attached to mediocre Chicago deep dish pizza chain The Uno, which somehow isn't the even in the Top 5 most random things about it. As far as entrances go, the front is the back and the back is the front. The "front" of the bar that faces Route 219 actually just looks like a regular Uno at first glance. The ass-less chaps wearing, chain-smoking bikers park and come in from there. The "back" is adjacent to the lake and where most traffic comes in via boat. You're greeted by a 14 year old dock hand in way over his/her head, trying to help park 3 boats at the same time all driven by drunk tourists. It is not uncommon to have to wait 20+ minutes for a slot to open up, and even then, it's cut throat because everyone pretends to not know who's turn it is.

As you walk up to the bar from the dock, try not to trip over the 13 unattended toddlers feeding popcorn scraps to the ducks. If they drown, nobody will notice. There is a giant grassy yard separating the dock from the main bar area. The yard is a combination of Woodstock, a frat party, and a Chuck E Cheese specializing in paralysis. There are families trying to lay out and enjoy the sun, 8 corn hole games going on, and at least 1-2 people passed out. The yard is anchored by three bizarre structures all surely covered in chicken pox: The Pirate Ship, The Whale, and The Elephant (pictured below).

All three are surrounded by beds of sharp wood chips and in their original condition. There are no safety protocols, no gimmicks. Just big plastic statues. I genuinely have no idea how they are still standing and haven't resulted in numerous lawsuits. I've had fully grown friends fall about 7 feet off the elephant and nearly die, and each is covered in holes containing sharp edges from wear and tear. Nonetheless, you must get a picture on The Elephant before leaving.

The actual bar area is divided into two main sections, one inside and one outside. The theme is Planet of the Apes meets Jimmy Buffett. Walls are covered in a combination of island memorabilia mixed with some sports, a gift shop right outside the bathroom that nobody is working and everyone steals from, all overseen by a 10 foot gorilla on the roof who's eyes light up. It used to be a gator who spat water on the dance floor, but I guess the Gorilla played better with the Garrett County focus group. Concrete tables line the patio, punctuated by tiki umbrellas. There are two island-style drinks served out of frozen vending machines - the Pina Colada and the Rum Runner, which are the exact same drink. Otherwise it's your standard selection of cheap beer and liquor. There are no doors and no bouncers, so even on the off-chance the bartender actually asks for ID, it doesn't really matter because there is absolutely nothing preventing you from buying a drink for some teenager in the grassy knoll or walking back to the boat to get a beer from your cooler. To repeat: A successful bar still exists in 2020 despite an outside alcohol and underage policy almost solely based on the "honor system". I think most people have enough respect for the place to not abuse it, but it's completely common and accepted to walk off the boat with your most recent beer in hand.

On Saturdays and Sundays there is live music, but don't expect any consistency and certainly no DJs. The band vibe ranges from dollar store Susan Boyle to starving artist touring bands to legitimately talented rockers who might be a little past their prime. Kind of like that Ratt Problem commercial, only they want to be there. Some of it is original music but most of them play strictly covers. But not just any covers. The Honi bands have a remarkable tendency to play a few too many songs everyone knows but nobody can dance to. Imagine going from Rollings Stones to Maroon 5 to Total Eclipse of the Heart, on repeat. The atmosphere at a lesser bar might suffer from such an odd cadence, but here, the true freaks know that's when to let it fly.

Getting on the dance floor is just like a wedding - your age doesn't matter, only on your level of intoxication. You got grannies dancing with toddlers, bachelorette parties dancing with bikers, and everything in between. The only difference is everyone is wearing way less clothing and smells like cigarettes. You'll probably see one of those dances where everyone holds onto the person's shoulders in front of them creating a long cha-cha train.

The token drunk is a man in his 70s named Dancin' Bob, who is there every single Saturday and Sunday. The big qualifier here is Bob actually does not drink at all, instead sipping on a steady diet of sprite and water. He leaves his family at home in favor of coaxing young women who don't know any better into dancing with him. His style and stamina is nothing if not impressive, although somewhat curious considering he's working on a 0.00% BAC. If it sounds a little weird that's because it is, but the Honi leans into it and by all accounts he's harmless, so I'll leave it at that. Maybe I'm the weirdo because I can't dance without 11 Bud Lights in my system.

In addition to Dancin' Bob, there is almost always at least 1-2 maniacs completely embarrassing themselves. The amusing part is that it happens not in a dark college bar at 1AM, but in broad daylight in front of children and senior citizens. The last time I was there the honor went to Flute Guy. He appeared to be by himself and was carrying around a flute he did not know how to play. He was on some combination of hallucinogens and was gyrating all over the place (including the floor) for about 2 hours, pantomiming playing the aforementioned flute with the actual live band. We even got him up on stage (see picture attached).

All of this is overlooked by the Uno balcony, with families in various states of confusion watching the madness unfold as they try to enjoy their chicken fingers and cookie skillet. The music stops around 6 or so, and by that time the crowd has somewhat thinned out. Imagine how excruciating and scary it can be to drive home from an NFL game, but instead you're driving a boat. One can understand the need to "beat the rush".

And that's a day at the Honi. As I read back through this I realize how futile an exercise it is to describe a place that's given me so many hilarious memories. Nonetheless it's the best tribute I can give to one of my favorite bars of all time. The outlook for The Honi looks bleak in 2020 due to COVID, but the party will be twice as weird in 2021. Bring your flute.