Sunday, March 16, 2014

GFH3 Run #1,743; 15 March 2014


Beware the Ides of March, they cautioned J. Caesar back in the day, but the warning doesn’t seem to apply to the GFH3.  Perhaps that’s because for Lezley, there’s no such thing as the Ides; she calls it "two days before St. Patrick’s Day."  So she ladled up a warm and sunny day, silly hats and green beads that caused one Herndon civilian out on trail to guess that we were celebrating a tardy Mardi Gras.  We were, of course, actually celebrating the news that Zipperhead got through serious surgery successfully.

Lezley and Lori were responsible for a five-mile true trail for the runners that included, in the celebratory spirit, ‘real water crossings, not the wimpy Herndon ones.’  That’s a paraphrase, but Lori’s share of the brief certainly included the word ‘wimpy.’  The walkers’ trail is a perennial favorite, permanently marked in blue and white spray-paint arrows.  Word is that the runners’ trail went a considerable distance; evidence suggests that it was quite successful in keeping the pack nicely grouped.  Only Rick got seriously lost; that’s what you get for being FRB at that age.  Sheesh.

The pack, part I, following Rick and Mini Schlonga, both some distance ahead.

Back at Antrim West, there was a feast of corned beef on a platter, regular beef stewed up with spuds and carrots, and a sublime potato-leek soup for those who eschew red meat.  (There’s a pun struggling up through that sentence.)  Also some sausage, possibly to be called bangers just for today, and a huge quantity of Irish beers, including Guinness, which is Good For You, that more than satisfied forty hungry hashers.

The Mufti having decided not to return early from Hawai’i, the Associate Mufti performed his signature 45-minute roll call.  For reasons of his own, he first demanded a shot of whisky, then settled for a nip of Drambuie.  Later, for what can’t possibly be any good reason, Don brought out a full-size, brand new bottle of single-malt Scotch, which the Hash consumed so quickly you’d think they believe they’re worth high-quality hard liquor.

Hash time is happy time!

Despite taking sick leave (is this elective surgery?) Zipperhead got credit for a run, which is unprecedented.  Ole Fud made it to 700 (he was one of our first hashers, but what with traveling the world to save the global economy all those years, he didn’t make it to as many hashes as he would have liked), and I think it was the Oral Advocate himself who hit 750.  Michael attended his first hash but didn’t put himself up for the roll, and Robert made four.  Whoo hoo.  Lori hit 100, and the O.A. declared her, “Nippletism,” but we’ll believe it when the Mufti says it’s true.  Rick hit 99.2 – he’ll make 100 when Double Breasted Boobie is here to see it happen.  Speaking of Mufti, he’s stuck at 1,496.  Whoo hoo.

Here’s what it looked like.  Be sure to keep checking the website; prospective hero Drill Me Fill Me is considering hosting at an empty lot near his home next week.  He’s considering Port-a-Potties, but you might want to stop by the toilets at the Brogue on your way to the meet, just in case. 

Get well and stay well, please.

THIS JUST IN:  Chip Off the Old Dick fills in the details of an October 2013 run that sounds like an unusually excellent good time for all.  Check it out here.

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