GFH3 Run #1,790; 10 January 2015

A favorite Hash hostess, Blow in the Hole hero'ed it up once again, with help from a cast of... several.  Consultation with Blazing Straddle and Jeffy Lube resulted in a useful trail map.  A quartet (BitH, JL, Zipperhead and Dances with Bulls; three on foot, one on wheels), well-bundled, colored the flour blue for better visibility on the leftover snow, and then scattered it about Herndon for 12 runners to follow.  Seven walkers made their own path, determined to visit the historic downtown, for bread or trains or maybe both.  That's four hares and 19 hounds; so how were there 30 people at the hash?

Pre layer-donning, the hares make sure they know where they're going -- more or less.

One speculates that perhaps not everyone felt like getting a bit of exercise in the great outdoors today.  How could that be?  Why would that be?  After all, the wind chill wasn't all that bad, and the sun was shining like billy-o, so temps in the high 20s actually felt more or less like high 20s, not something frighteningly lower.  Some people were outside in just three layers!

Blazing Straddle was inside, heating up the vegan and paleo chilis BitH had cooked up the day before; perfect lunch for a somewhat chilly day, after a five-mile run over occasionally icy ground.  The hash showed its appreciation by sucking up every gram of beef and most of the black-bean-and-sweet-potato.  Bubbles contributed cookies (and cleaned the downstairs bathroom, while BitH was cleaning every other inch of her home -- before the hash arrived!  Now that's some heroism.).

Note shining sun

Valiant handled the roll call as last week, and did it with a distinctive flair and a decent amount of group participation as he squinted at the tiny roll call print.  Trisha hit #2, and Jen Rough Cut got dug up from the C list, one hopes.  As one hopes they both come back soon.  You can see them in the photos, and introduce yourself next time.

GFH3 Run #1,780; 15 November 2014

Days do not get any more gorgeous than this, with the blue blue autumn sky offering the perfect backdrop for the last of the autumn leaves and their blazingly warm colors, and the sunshine sparking off Rock Creek as it splashed over its stony bed, and the traffic light enough that the gurgle of the water was the main soundtrack for a walk in the woods.  Days do get warmer than this, of course (record lows overnight in Danville!), but as long as they were in the sunlight or in motion, the 17 hashers who made it all the way to Washington were happy as could be.

Headed for the first X!

Wait, wait -- they might have been even happier if they could have found true trail!  Though Dances with Bulls claimed in her brief that the run might be a bit long "because I can't count," she later confessed that she wanted to be sure the hash got to visit an especially beautiful spot in the neighborhood.  But they didn't!  Instead, they got up to Connecticut Avenue, ran through an X instead of exploring across the street a bit, rushed around the zoo, and somehow found the last bit of the trail, though opting for the 'strenuous' portion of the Western Ridge instead of the 'moderate' track DwB, Zipperhead and Paint in the Ass had carefully marked with highly visible, floury ons.  (Per Zipperhead, if you're not alpha, you're furniture -- and the trail was set by two alphas and a sofa.)

FRB, short-cutter division.

That, though, was just the initial clump of five runners.  Sally and Richard arrived a bit late to a new-to-them venue, and left about 30 minutes after the pack.  Sally ran much of the true trail, albeit cutting out some of the beginning and running the middle bit backward, carefully marking the checks somehow to indicate the forward direction.  This part seems very confusing.  Richard was the only runner to complete the full trail, and arrived at the On In about 90 minutes after everyone else, thanking his wife sincerely for those marked checks.

FRB, true-trail division

The walkers were cool, calm and in control, making a two-mile circuit past the zoo gates.  The On In featured good wines and great sandwiches and a roaring fire under the pavilion.  Sunshine plus a fire!  Plus the Mufti in fine voice.  Matt celebrated his final single-digit run, and A-lister Katy turned 20.  Photos here; thanks Mufti for pix!

GFH3 Run #1,776; 18 October 2014

The Mufti took a photo!  Give that man a raise!

Only the crème de la crème are allowed to cross the state line to hash.

And this info from Someone Who Was There:

We had a nice turnout; 25 showed up including some new runners, friends of other hashers.  Hash hostess Paint in the Ass, with help from Zipperhead and Dances with Bulls, set a run that covered some brand new territory and kept the pack together for the entire run.

It was a beautiful day in Silver Spring but a cold front was coming in and brisk was an understatement.

Mufti was there with Mango and the Great Falls car pool, chauffeured by Drill Me Fill Me.  Phoenix Rising, as per, ran the trail backward, but broke slightly with his usual technique by turning around partway through and coming into the On In with the pack. 

The hares used 15 pounds of flour and some of the runners claimed to notice a lot of back-checks and Xs.  Zipperhead invoked the heretofore unknown 'heart surgery waiver,' which allowed him to put down a lot of one-dot-to-nothing's.  Paint in the Ass announced that she had lost her keys scouting the run and offered whoever found them the old locks from her house for free!  Unlike a particular hash from the mists of decades past, no one had to break into the house for the On In.

Paint in the Ass hopes to send photos; until she can she shares this link to one of her son's productions.  It is well worth a look!

Not Silver Spring, but almost as good.

Dances with Bulls, Paint in the Ass and Zipperhead?!??

GFH3 Run #1,770; 10 September 2014

As you know, Zipperhead takes great pride in discovering some stretch of dirt, no matter how small, through which he has not previously set, for each of his runs.  Thus he claims to have included virgin territory in all but one of 54 runs he has hosted since June 1986.  (And in that one exception, he got a few friends to don quasi-virginal attire and bang tambourines or something.)  In celebration of the six-month anniversary of his four bypasses, tonight's trail continued the streak.  With Dances with Bulls lending her crafty mind as well, the hares achieved about five miles of true trail, with two disorienting loops contained within the larger loop - which Zh believes is also a first.

Zh and DwB ensured their marks were clear and true by driving most of the trail as the runners ran it, and parking by the more confusing of the cross-over points.  Whether they achieved any satisfaction in watching the 20 runners scramble, unscramble and re-scramble themselves [repeat] is not recorded.  Certainly they successfully re-set the marks required to ensure the pack worked through the second loop as successfully as they had the first.  Clever pack!

Sticking together nicely.

Eleven walkers enjoyed a very small part of the runners' trail, and all made it back to the house before dark, while the runners were still thrashing about in the woods, leaping over fallen branches and unscrambling themselves from the briars.  Headlamps and flashlight apps brightened the ever-earlier dusk.  Fortunately, though the evening was humid, the temperature wasn't outlandish, which helps keep a backcheck six entertaining instead of infuriating.

The On In seemed unusually crowded, and 35 people looked more like 50.  Maybe that's because so many of them were crowded around the table, nibbling on brownies while they waited for their turn at Phlashback's paella.  Praise for the wine offset diffidence towards the beer.

The Mufti, finding no double-number runs on his roll call, tried to make something of this being run #1770, but no one took him up on it.  So he looked again, and realized... HE MISSED SOMEONE!  It transpired that Mini Schlonga, having achieved run 199 back in June, and 199.5 in August, and 199.75 last week, had finally tripped the odometer to reach 200.  [Shouts, cheers, jeers]  So Mufti pulled out his fez [cheers, jeers, salaams], admitted that in the two months since the Exec Comm meeting he'd mislaid the list the possible names [sympathetic murmurs], and noted the Honoree's fashion sense, lack of sense regarding distances appropriate to a hash founded on the theory that three miles are plenty [jeers and lots of them], and app collection.  Valiant pointed out the Honoree's slender ankles.  [cries of befuddlement]  The Mufti then shouted the new nickname to the skies:  NIPPLE KNOCKER!  All the blonde women in the crowd demanded an exhibition of the inspiration for such a name, at which N.K. became uncharacteristically modest.

Let the knock-knock jokes commence!

Maybe next week he'll show up shirtless at Drill Me Fill Me's at 6:30. That's right, it's another early start next week. Only one person arrived in time for a 7:00 start this week; see if you can guess whom from the photos here.

Slender, yet strong, fast and flexible.

GFH3 Run #1,765; 6 August 2014

Fancy stuff tonight, as Blow in the Hole rented the party room at her Herndon swim club, and called in the caterers so she could devote more time to setting:  "It's a little longer than I meant it to be," she explained of her trail.  But with sunshine and mild temps, as well as reasonable humidity, and a hostess with a reputation for most-est-ing, 43 hashers turned out for the run tonight.  Alex and John popped up again, bringing mother and wife Ellen for her first GFH3, Radar tore himself away from the Cape or whatever more exotic travel has taken him from us, Heater Beater made it his third hash in a row -- because of that mild weather, you see -- Melisande limped along, Flowerkraut brought a swelling hand (yellow-jacket sting), etc. etc.

"She did one thing, and she did another thing, and I didn't do much of anything..."

And Zipperhead and Bionic Babe were there, having helped set, and thereby creating a not-that-confusing array of different false-trail styles, plus one hare's arrow that pointed in two different directions.  The 24 runners got it all figured out pretty quickly, and were through the little bit of shiggy and almost at the water stop before the water stop was.  (The official water stop, that is; not the impromptu water stops of Zipperhead wanting to see who would fall for the pipeline decoy and other fun tricks.)  They had a back-porch audience near Dranesville, and the neighbors were kind enough to cheer on the pack as they pounded up the hill toward the cooler and a five-spoked check.  The Beer Near sign, a few miles farther along, did not get washed away by lawn sprinklers before most of the hash had made it back to the On In.  Rrocks Starr mentioned that he had noticed that "little longer than I meant" part BitH had described.  Runners finished between about 8:20 and 8:40; walkers were done somewhat earlier, heh heh.

Whippersnapper!  Putting on a show for...

a back-porch cheering section.

The party room was seriously festive, with centerpieces and highly effective a/c, and the pasta and salad and rolls laid out on long tables.  The volume from 3.5 dozen chatterers was considerable, and when Mufti got ready for the roll, it required shrill whistles from three or four tables to calm the crowd.  There were four first-timers with us:  Paul, Ellen, Devon (fast) and Rudy, who vanished before the roll so we must hope he takes enough time out from the San Diego, San Antonio, Hong Kong and Mount Vernon hashes to join us again someday.  Nobody had unusually exciting numbers, but we did get an update on Dr. Pecker, PhD.  As Mufti notes, he is a low-pressure guy, but the 30/60 he recorded after his recent cardiac procedure was a bit worrying at first.  The good folks at Norfolk Hospital soon had him up to better numbers, and he is now doing well - and probably back home tonight.

Beer very near indeed, now.

Dr. P, PhD didn't make the photos tonight, but everyone else did.  You may notice that orange is indeed the new black.

GFH3 Run #1,742; 8 March 2014

Oh, the soft advent of springtime in Virginia:  the suddenly warm days, the gentle caress of a hesitant sun, the rapid melt of six to ten inches of snow that drenches the earth and turns all of Great Falls into a murky stew of slick red clay, semi-liquid goose poop and little surprise crunchy bits – nuggets of ice crystals, deer droppings, pointed twigs shed by trees eager for new life.  And the opportunity to run through this slop, under blue and golden skies, inspired 47 lonely souls to congregate at Zipperhead and Phlashback’s and start shedding jackets in the warmth.

We sent condolences to Blow in the Hole, whose mother died early in the week.  We tried to figure out how to tell Roi from Rei.  We refrained from talking baby-talk to Nathan, who is quite a big boy now.  We unfortunately missed the bit about whether to count the backcheck, but heard something about ‘an unusual trail,’ and then we watched Rough Cut run out into the street with a large, milling crowd shouting, “On on!” encouragingly from the safety of the driveway.

Ha ha!  Not that way!

Once Rough Cut figured out that the trail didn’t begin to the left, almost everyone tried rushing through the yard and out the back.  That didn’t work either!  Unusual indeed to begin by running up the street to the right, and smack into G.F. Village.  The walkers, having stayed back to get specific instructions for their trail, mingled with the runners at the light, and Dances with Bulls and Zipperhead watched carefully to be sure no one crossed the streams.  Or trails.  In a moment of bold unusualness, they’d set a figure-eight trail.  After five to eight miles of mostly broken-trail running, the pack hit a backcheck three that got them headed for the On In.

A fine example of getting across broken ground with exuberance.

The gorgeous weather made the patio safe for drinking and eating, with a creamy, rich potato soup and three or four kinds of bread as the feature foodstuffs, and a vast array of chips and dips to fill in at the edges.  Sandra, not content with volunteering to help set on just her third outing with the GFH3, also made some tasty bolhos (or something like that – Mozambiquean doughnuts, or beignet if you’re still in a Mardi Gras mindset) liberally coated with flaked coconut.

The Oral Advocate donned his Associate Mufti  persona, which is very loud, and called the roll.  Infrequent visitors Grey Ghost (the former Wombat Willie), Brogue Bait and Hard to Catch got welcomed back, and there were several first-timers and single-digit-run-count types.  Huzzah!  90-something to the cup!  Lori hit 99, with wailing and lamentations, and Zipperhead... had a birthday!  Good thing the Jazz Swinger made one of her guest star appearances to lead the singing.  The Executive Committee met, doubtless with disastrous results (for other people, not for you, dear), and the sun began to set, taking its gladdening warmth with it.  Queen Cobra and Paul hit the road in her namesake convertible before it got too chilly, while Phoenix Rising sat around drinking, philosophically accepting that his drop-top drive home would be miserably cold.

Happy birthday, Zipperhead!  Happy spring, everyone!

Bravo for an excellent walkers’ trail that poached on a lengthy section of the runners’ trail, and bravo for the large crowd of veterans and newbies that enjoyed the day together.  And hooray that no one got run over by a deer, although the pack did frighten a substantial herd.  There are some photos of them, showing us how running is really done, mixed in with all the usual subjects.

GFH3 Run #1,718; 28 September 2013

UPDATE from BC3, with my sincere thanks:

"A smallish group had a convivial time crossing the bridge into Maryland and a really nice walking trail -- paved & wooden in a woods buffer zone... lovely. ...a number of folks were wearing Mufti Appreciation shirts."

It had to be great, right?  Great location, experienced hares, and the weather was good, right?  Anyone have anything to add?  I can't say much, as I was distracted by the talent show at the Kalona Fall Festival, featuring:

Jim from China, who got the crowd on its feet with his amazing beat-box act;

Husband and wife, maybe, doing a Sugarland cover;

A clog dancer performing to some sexier-than-you'd-expect-in-Amish-country song; and

Two quite young and sophisticated boys performing 'Build Me Up Buttercup' with word-perfect intro patter.

So someone's going to need to fill me in...

GFH3 Run #1,714; 4 September 2013

Most of tonight's 31 hashers made it to the Duck Sucker's by 6:30, though traffic was certainly a bit icky.  But oh such a good thing they did, as those woods -- and co-hares Dances with Bulls and Zipperhead made the most of the woods, and even more of the river -- get darned dark once the sun starts thinking about setting.  Despite a challenging inlet/waterfall crossing, however, everyone (except maybe Severely Last, but his consistency in living up to his name is scarcely news) made it back to the house before losing the light entirely.

Now, about that water crossing:  apparently there was a turkey/eagle split, and turkeys got water while eagles got rocks.  However, I think everyone except Chip Off the Old Dick made it to the promontory near the waterfall where a big rock on one side of the inlet bore two large floury arrows pointing toward a big rock on the other side of the inlet, which bore two large floury arrows pointing toward dry ground.  Pickled Peter barely hesitated before wading in to water that ran almost waist-high.  Easy Strider and INDY turned around and headed back into the woods, emerging on the rocky crags, or craggy rocks, just in front of the waterfall and stepping carefully across to scrabble up onto a ledge where two folks we don't know were embracing.  The embracers scrabbled down and walked purposefully away, and the rest of the pack split about evenly between dry and wet crossing.

Bravo!

And where were the walkers?  No clue -- they had a recommended trail leading to the waterfall, but other than Chris and Gale, it's unclear whether anyone made it there.  Fortunately, anywhere you ramble in Scott's Run is bound to be lovely and at least mildly challenging.

Challenges accepted earned their reward at the On In, where fancy sandwiches imported from Georgetown were waiting, garnished with excellent kalamata olives.  Zipperhead apparently chose the beverages:  several connoisseurs rated the beer as 'swill;' no complaints noted ref: the wine.  There may be a theme emerging...

SSB took this one; that's why it's so artistic.

There was probably dessert and there were certainly chips, but I got caught up in roll-calling and water-volleyballing and neglected to investigate.  For the third time this lifetime, the Mufti entrusted me with the official roll, and so far I haven't left it in a flood zone or anything.  The responsibility fell to the assistant associate Mufti this week as the Mufti is vacationing in Duck or someplace like that, whilst the associate Mufti has decamped, with three tubs of Vaseline and a large box of bandages in assorted sizes, to the land of his ancestors (viz: Italy).  Nothing terribly exciting in the roll, though Rachel returned for run #2 and a stellar performance in the volleyball court ('in' not 'on' as the court is in the swimming pool).

And the weather was perfect.  Thanks to Suck Squeeze Bang (19 runs to a new name!) and Blow in the Hole for photos, which you can see here.

GFH3 Run #1,700!!!; 5 June 2013

With all the excitement -- 1,700th run; Mufti with a groin pull, Phlashback's birthday, Heater Beater's birthday, and Dances with Bulls's 500th run -- I am wiped out and must hie myself to bed.  So just a few thoughts:

Zipperhead:  "I can set a perfect trail, and they are so stupid they just have to do something stupid."

"Stupid"ly enjoying the uphill trek from yet another backcheck

Zipperhead:  "I told Dances with Bulls, this is trail-setting 301.  Not 101, not 201 -- 301."

The weather could not get more gorgeous, could it?  Warm, dry, sunny, blue skies and a brief blaze of deep orange sunset.

Yummy Mexican-type food.  Grumblings on the quality of the beer.  None ref: quality of the wine.

Shiny beads to celebrate 1,700th.

Two newcomers?

Dances with Bulls, the former Spanish Fly and Crazy Ass and Como Loco or something like that, flamenco-ing.

Flamenco 101

Platoons of poodles.

Actually quite an impressive trail for the runners, with the leaders changing frequently, and Easy Strider getting a well-deserved backcheck or two, and the pack stringing out and then clumping back up again several times.

Photos here -- I handed off the camera to Radar for a bit, and Irene stepped in for a snap as well.  Thanks!

GFH3 Run #1,681; 26 Jan 2013

Thirty-four of us (including a host and three hares) got the time right and showed up at 11am in... drum roll, please... flourish of trumpets... make it a kettle drum... GREAT FALLS!  And while we didn't have the sense to start a pool on the number of people who will bang on the Ole Fud's door at 3pm, I'm going to guess three.  And what a hash they missed!  The eagles spent two hours in the not-very snowy woods trying to find pink flour that was melting away with the snow on which it had been dropped, and trying not to crack an ankle as they skidded over wet rocks, wet leaves, and well-packed slush.  But they had a nice bit of sunshine in which to do so, and above-freezing temps, albeit not by much.

The turkeys (and this group is mostly turkeys -- no further comment, please)  were out for over 90 minutes, and the walkers for an hour or more.  The walkers, incidentally, seemed to split up into about a half-dozen splinter groups, and when there are only about eight of you in the first place, that's quite an achievement.

The trail was set by Air Horn, Phoenix Rising and Zipperhead -- each working separately.  So you can understand a) why the trail was relatively lengthy, and b) why the hares weren't sure whether the turkey trail saved runners about a quarter mile or closer to two miles, or something more, less or in between.  Also why there was, perhaps, some sort of an incidente officiele whose details we'd sooner not know...  There was also a great deal of shortcutting, including by our FRB, Valiant.  The eagles you can probably guess, but if you want hints:  Suck, Squeeze, Something... the Not-calm Mechanic... Longa, Schlonga... Difficult Strider...

Valiant explains how, by skillfully not following the trail much at all, he was able to finish the run about 30 minutes before anyone else.

Back in the garage, we had hot soup and bread and cheese and chips and stuff.  You know the expression, "Hunger is the best seasoning"?  Well, it's not true.  Whatever Felicity used in the black-bean soup is the best seasoning.  And the promise of a tour of the trains-and-tracks wing of the Fud estate sharpens the appetite nicely, too.

I read the roll, given the absence of both the Mufti (romantically vacationing on a warm island) and the associate Mufti (undergoing an intensive cheering and smack-talking regimen in preparation for the Big Game).  I have crowned (be-fezzed?) myself the assistant associate Mufti on the spine-chillingly meaningful occasion of my being entrusted with the official roll for the first time ever.  Hip, hip.

Don't I look authoritative?

INDY helped out with the photos; here they are.