Quotes of the hash were part of the brief: (imagine a Sri Lankan accent) “I love to set false trails!” and (switch to Long Island/Northern California accent) “I think I’m making these false trails a little too long.” Thanks to Rick and Mini Schlonga for a looong day of flinging flour about the woods, following directions from someone who’s not entirely certain what she’s doing (that’s me!), and somehow getting roped into raking. And thanks to the dyads or nymphs or whoever was in charge of soothing the stream from Friday’s raging, turbulent mud-fest to today’s entirely manageable water crossing.
The runners had a four-mile true trail for turkeys (much less for turkeys who chose to pay attention to the chitchat instead of the trail; they know who they are), with an extra 1.5 miles in a sort of curlicue-loop for eagles. The nine eagles had a great time jogging across brambly, wooded mud more or less parallel to Club View Drive, because that’s way more fun than pavement, and doubling back on themselves via a lovely hill and so forth. The hares suffered considerable confusion trying to find the kindly neighbor who’d volunteered an edge of his lawn for the last stretch of the trail, and so the hounds suffered a few minutes' confusion awaiting the setting of trail along Beach Mill. Whoops. So sorry. But you cannot set marks along Beach Mill before the hash, given how many people drive that route on their way to the meet. Anyway, Valiant figured out everything without so much as a gram of flour.
|Lovin' the Eagle Loop|
Walkers went in different directions; one group on the lane out to Walker, where two separate motorists presented them with middle fingers for – what, exactly? Having the gall to walk along the street? The other group braved the creek and strolled beside the Potomac, which was looking robust and nation-building with all the recent melt adding muscle to its current. Everyone was back to the On In by about 4:30, where they found a pinto-hominy pie and a seafood perloo, plus Black Box and Yuengling and Easy Strider’s chiminea, which he lugged all the way from P. Springs along with a cord or so of chiminea-sized log-lets. And there were cookies. There are always cookies.
Mufti did his roll call, and we welcomed Other Sandra, from Mozambique, to her first hash with us. Yay and 99 etc. Lezley hit double-sixes, oooh, and Rick is just three runs from a name. Two people forgot to pay, and one person has size five-and-a-half feet and forgot running shoes for them. See if you can tell whom from the photos, which include a few Mini Schlonga took whilst setting. Thanks for that, MS!