So, it was hash hero time again, and once more unto the breach, dear friends. The Veggie Wedgie (what a dumb name) threw open the door of her gracious McLean home (and promptly started shrieking, "Bugs! Bugs! Shut the door!"), welcoming 29 hashers on an overcast evening that wasn't quite as hot 'n' humid as feared. The call for volunteers yielded three: let us now praise our favorite hashers.
The brave, smart, strong, sensitive, witty, beautiful, noble, chic, fascinating and in-all-ways wonderful Paddle My Candee Ass arrived from distant lands (Warrenton) at 7:45am to help set, prepare food, lug furniture and beer around, and accidentally do all the cooking and most of the hostessing, before leaving about 14 hours later. The thank-you note is in the mail; it ought to be a medal.
Chip Off the Old Dick, whose hash heroics are already legend, arrived about 3pm (fresh from Phoenix Rising's retirement lunch, but a smidge confused on how this retirement thing works if he's still going to be, well, working), and headed up the street to navigate the entire trail as insurance that VW hadn't messed it up. Along the way, he came upon six teenagers commencing some sort of carnal activity in the woods -- when was the last time that happened? And when he got back to the future on-in, he declined to shower and change because, gods and nature love him, he was happy to sweep up after the pack. So he just shotgunned about three quarts of ice water and greeted the slowly-gathering hash.
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| HEROES!! Photo taken after PMCA got all scratched and hot and dirty setting trail, and before she got all scratched and hot and dirty making dinner. |
The Mufti, may his name be praised forevermore, arrived about 6:30pm with the much-needed ice for the future cold beverages. Thank you! And shortly after him, the rest of the crew made their various ways to the driveway, and with the clouds lowering, blotting out the setting sun and rising full moon on an evening when the trail warranted as much light as possible, we kept the brief brief and kicked everyone out onto the street.
The walkers got a one-mile turkey or as-long-as-you-like eagle trail, and a few actually opted to eagle it a bit. Eagling also offered more off-pavement walking, so it's a lovely choice. Having finally put enough "T" and "E" marks on that sidewalk that they actually found the split, I shall now retire that trail. The runners' trail, however...
It was a thing of beauty, I'm assured, to the 'true hasher' (Phoenix Rising is, apparently, a 'true hasher'). For the 'regular runners,' who just want to get out and back as easily as possible, it was somewhat uglier. Radar came down somewhere in the middle: "It's a great Saturday-afternoon trail." Meeee-OWW! Rrocks Starr thought it so good I should set it again, sometime when the hashers can actually see it.
I did mention in the brief that there was a half-mile stretch of bushwacky/shiggy-ish stuff that might feel a whole lot longer. And provided a water/beer/Mike's/DCoke stop, and provided a sweeper who knew where he was going and what everyone should be doing. So there. Nonetheless, when called on for a merciful mission, I zoomed out and collected a handful (bit more than a Honda-ful, but not quite a someone-will-have-to-sit-on-Mike's-lap-and-don't-pretend-you'd-mind-that size load) of hashers who'd gotten fed up.
Speaking of fed up, what with water-stop providing and mercy-missioning, I abandoned PMCA with two large pots of boiling water and a mess of corn, potatoes, sausage and shrimp to turn into dinner in a strange kitchen. (If she ever came over to make a nice supper for me, my kitchen would not be strange to her.) Anyway, all the walkers and two runners returned before I did, demanding wine and chips, and PMCA coped so admirably she should be knighted or something. I did make sure she had a glass of bubbly, and I don't mean Perrier water, before I took off. And I think that helped.
Her shrimp boil got highest praise, most of the runners covered true trail, the cookies were warm from the oven, and the beer held out, if only barely. The generous hashers even showed willing to sit outside in a light drizzle rather than plonk their shiggy-ish selves down on my cream-colored couch. So all in all, I'm claiming a success, and extra points if first-timer Karen (99 to the etc.) actually shows up again like she said she will.
What with one thing and another, I had limited time for photography. However, there are a few photos; you can click here to look at the pix.
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| Doggy bags and everything! |
A million thanks to the Mufti for ice and to INDY for starting a discrete clean-up while several of us were still drinking under an umbrella, a hundred million to COtOD, and a gazillion magillion jillion to PMCA.
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