|Bill, Rasta and Bill set up for guests.|
They had 17 friends to help them, and so cascaded down the back lawn and into the Reston trails, which took them to the Herndon trails, south and back east again and up the Fairfax County Parkway (turkeys) or the pipeline (eagles, who surely enjoyed the dry-stream crossing), and hence back to the house with four or five miles on the GPS from a 3.85 mile true trail. The nine or ten walkers had a paved loop of just over one mile, and most exercised the option of extending that a bit with some out-and-back stuff. It was a nice night for extending: hot, perhaps, but dry and sunny until the sun set.
No Jamaican feast this time, just good old Chesapeake-Bay shrimp boil, plus a pescatarian variation with Bayou country spices. We drank sparkling wine (get it? We'll wait... Get it? Bubbles?), Rolling Rock and Red Hook and Black Box and lots of other stuff. Rolling Rock goes best with a shrimp boil. There were birthday cookies for Puss in Boot and a birthday cake for me (very surprised; Heater Beater is both devious and duplicitous).
|Also, Mini Schlonga returned from his looooong|
summer break to celebrate his 199.5th run with GFH3.
Here is the story of how the GFH3 met Bill, who reports the group is a little slower and a little louder than when he was a regular lo those half-dozen or so years gone by: In the fall of 2005, Blow in the Hole attended her first hash on the recommendation of Thanks for the Mammaries. She joined us infrequently over the next several months, but on one of those occasions, Zipperhead told her that a hasher ought to host by the time of his or her tenth run. So, on her tenth run, in summer 2006, she hosted. She rented the party room at her swim club in Herndon, right near the Reston line and the Runnymede and Sugarland trails, and TftM and I'm Not Dead Yet helped her scout and set trail.
While scouting, they decided they needed a cut-through from the stream trails onto the streets near Fairfax County Parkway, and so rang a doorbell or two. Bill answered one, and when TftM asked whether he'd mind a few nice people jogging across his lawn on Wednesday evening, Bill said, "Is that a hash? Why not have them run right through the house instead?" So the trail went across the stream, up the yard, onto the deck, with a big blob of flour right by the back door. And the pack went across the stream, slowly into the yard, and then milled about by the deck, asking each other if anyone knew who lived here. Bill invited them in, and they went, tentatively, in the back door and out the front, where Bill had set up the lawn sprinkler as it was an exceedingly hot night. And a couple of weeks later he came to the hash as a runner. Welcome back, and thanks for hosting!