GFH3 Run #1,781; 22 November 2014

With a warming trend on its way and the sun shining high from a blue, blue sky, 41 hashers convened on Blazing Straddle's house, where she was putting the final touches on chili for 35.  Whoops.  Anyway, she and Money Bitch had put all kinds of touches on a long, woodsy trail; some controversy arising over the possible existence of 'false checks,' and a rumor making the rounds that true trail was 7.9 miles.  That rumor was countered by physical evidence, but you know how it goes with rumors.

Most of the GFH3 knows the neighborhood pretty well, BStrad being a generous and frequent hostess to the group, so people who wanted to shortcut could.  One small contingent of walkers, new to the area, claimed to have gotten pretty seriously lost and walked a skosh further than desired, but they were still smiling at the 60-minute mark, so good weather and great company were apparently offsetting the impact of bruising tootsies.  The true-trail runners spent more than 90 minutes in the fresh air, and looked mighty fine as they pounded down the final hill, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, and Air Horn hardly wincing at all.

Ironman triathletes scoff at even the longest hash trail.

The final days of autumn make chili and fixins a natural choice, and the hash filled up, to the point that BStrad had to break out some noodles and tomato sauce for the handful who didn't make it to the stew pot in time.  There was also a delicious coleslaw, with raisins and almonds, and warm brownies making the rounds.  The beer was confusingly housed inside -- but trust this group to find the beer when it gets relocated.

Mufti shouted the roll, welcoming a full family of first-timers:  Abigail, Brian, Christa and Nate got talked into hashing by Bad Dog.  Per Oral Advocate, they're natural hashers, which he apparently intended as a compliment.  Erotic Equation made a special-guest-star appearance, and John, at maybe his third hash, started making noises like he'd consider hosting.  Be nice to newcomer John, everyone.  He seemed a little freaked by the idea that there's no way of predicting how many people you have to feed...

Guess who ran and who attended a flute recital.

The Oral Advocate warned the Exec Comm that Mufti and BC3 plan to abandon us for the questionable joys of southern California (warm weather, sunshine -- who needs that?) for three months beginning just after Christmas.  They promise to return, if everyone behaves.  After all, who wouldn't want to come back to all this?