Wednesday, August 14, 2013

GFH3 Run #1,711; 14 August 2013

Setting a marvelous example for too many of her confederates, Brenda hosted her first hash tonight, and did so in splendid style.  She booked one of Reston's many pavilions and scheduled a break in the recent heatwave to ensure a warm, dry, sunny evening.  And she got Tasty Cakes to help her set a (less-than-ten-mile) trail -- and finally, she tossed in what may be the state's largest, champion, pig-nut tree for Valiant to discover, and measure with the help of Air Horn.  Yowsa.

No wonder he feels obligated to declare himself "present."

Most people drive to the pavilion Brenda booked via Temporary Road, or by North Shore heading counter-clockwise, and hence had to drive by the intersection of the two where a gigantic, three-way check was clearly visible on the sidewalk.  And yet, the pack chose to begin its run by heading away from that gigantic check.  Most amusing.  They got straightened out, but after that it's unclear how many people actually stuck to the marked trail versus making their own routes.  Valiant and Air Horn traipsed the the golf course, gazing at trees, and the rest of the walkers did something else.

Back at the pavilion, as dusk was falling, there was a feast more than sufficient for about 42 hashers.  Those looked like homemade lasagnas to me, and the olive oil for dipping two kinds of bread was seasoned with many yummy spices, and there was salad and fresh fruit, as well as a bounty of beverages including many, many colors of Mike's Hard whatever-ade.  Plus cookies, and HOMEMADE PUNKIN ROLL that was especially excellent.  Bravo, Brenda.

These people are happy because they know there's still a few slices of pumpkin roll left.

The excitement at roll-call time was palpable, especially for anyone trying to cleave a path through the throng of first-timers.  We also saw more than a few b-listers, including Dr. Pecker, PhD, and Meatless Pussy celebrating her 222nd run (who had 44?  and who had 55?  ooooooooooooh...), and then...

B-lister Roger finally, after twelve or thirteen years, hit run number 100.  The Mufti donned his fez, and Roger approved the dodged-bullet "Plunger Plunger" whilst shuddering at a dozen or so less-clever plays on "Cums Slowly" and worse.  As the tension built, the Mufti shook loose a new t-shirt, paused for effect, then spun it around to reveal the final name choice:  Plunges Honey's Well.  This may be a bit much for anyone who hasn't been around for half-a-dozen years or more, but Goes Down in Spokes used to be called The Plunger, and Roger works for Honeywell.  Get it?


Anyway, it's a fine effort by the Executive Committee, who congratulated themselves while Roger drank from the ceremonial cup/bowl (INDY:  "He can't have the cup.  He'll never come back with it.").  Pictures?  Of course: they're right here.

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