Saturday, December 28, 2013

GFH3 Run #1,731; 28 December 2013

On 7 May 2008, I hosted the hash from my little house in McLean for the first time (first time at the house, you understand; not first time hosting).  It was about a week after I'd moved in to the house, and there was some confusion about finding a corkscrew.  Otherwise, all was well -- as I recall, I even had the necessary baking utensils to offer oatmeal cookies hot from the oven.  Today I hosted the hash from the little McLean house for the last time, again with decorative cardboard boxes strewn about the place.  Oh, woe and sadness, though you wouldn't think so from the weather.  Given a desire to empty a few cupboards and the late-December date, I'd planned a hot chocolate stop, which proved entirely unnecessary under sunny skies and temps in the 50s.  Gracious, it was lovely, and almost everyone at the On In stayed On Outside.  Bonus points.
So many bonuses in today's hash!

A few other bonuses:  Robin came back to the hash, albeit just because she knew I needed help with egg-scrambling.  Blazing Straddle showed up with a cane and walked over a mile despite her recent knee surgery.  Packing Pink Heat showed up with one foot in a post-surgery boot.  I set both eagle and turkey trails; the turkeys had seven water crossings, not including the five with bridges of some sort; the eagles had nine, plus three bridges.  (There were a few dampened tootsies, according to report, but no drownings.)  Jeffy Lube, the eagliest eagle, ran just over eight miles.  The hot chocolate stop included rum and amaretto and cookies.  Paddle My Candee Ass had a birthday, and Big Balls on Deck provided a cake liberally bedewed with amaretto (there it is again) and bedecked with cream.  ("This is disgusting!" exclaimed one hasher, gobbling it down.  "It's all hooch and butterfat!")  BC3 thought Rough Cut looked like crap, and he never looks bad after a run.  Jeffy Lube declared the trail, "perfect" -- but he's got issues.  Someone else said the eggs were perfect; thanks again and again, Robin!  And then...

birthday crown?

Hang on. First, the trails:  all the walkers decided on the two-mile, sidewalk, out-and-back that includes the garden tour at St. Dunstan's.  Most of the runners chose the roughly four-mile turkey trail.  Under threat of burnt offerings, several decided to eagle, which gave them a bit less than six (of true trail, anyway).  Then, the food:  brunch = bagels, salmon, scrambled eggs and mimosas, although enough people drank beer that there was only one left.  Warm cookies; birthday cake.  Mufti on roll; Lori hit 88, the double eights, ooooh.

And then... about 15 minutes after the last hashers departed, the doorbell rang.  Double Breasted Booby and Rick were on the stoop!  They had raced down from Long Island hoping for a few minutes of hash time, but got hard ciders and a short visit with just me instead.  Zipperhead phoned while they were there and said he'd just realized the hash was at 11:00, not 3:00, and had turned around and gone back home.  So silly.

I don't usually get many photos when I host, but the ones I did get are right here.

No, you do not get credit for the run.

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