GFH3 Run #1,773; 27 September 2014

Nipples:  "What kind of a person sets a backcheck five on the turkey trail?"  Phoenix Rising:  "Heh heh heh."  Pause.  "At least it was downhill coming back."

Plus, the backcheck was only about halfway up the very long hill..

Although the funnier bit, arguably, was Air Horn beginning the brief with the announcement, "We ran into a few problems on the trail."  Specifically he, setting eagle, and PhR, setting turkey, ran into someone else's marks:  a whole bunch of floury arrows pointing some other people some other way through the Great Falls woods around Riverbend.  Luckily, the outlaw arrows had no cross-hatches, and were not paired with any kind of checks or other deviousnesses, so the hares wrote "GFH3" at frequent intervals on their overlapping trails and hoped for the best.

Another funny bit, actually, was when A.H. said turkey trail was about five miles.  Ha ha ha!  Eagles had a true trail of about six and a half, although Knipple Knocker reported 7.9 miles on his GPS.  Devon probably got more, as between outlaw arrows and Malaysian jetlag, she meandered a long way off trail and didn't make it On In until the search party was forming.

And Spurt is running again!  Welcome back!

Gorgeous weather ensured that ten turkeys and eight eagles (there were only 16 runners, but Blow in the Hole and Bionic Babe, after starting as eagles, mystically and abruptly evolved into turkeys during a moment of inattention, and thus count twice) plus ten walkers, all enjoyed their various excursions and came in smiling.  And kept right on smiling when they saw the big pot of turkey-and-chicken chili (hot sauce on the side, as A.H. did not want to make six different chilis at various levels of spiciness to suit all tastes) and the large pan of barbequed chicken.

The Associate Mufti was enjoying a Nationals win, and the Mufti was... Anyone know where the Mufti was?  Anyway, the roll showed up, so the Assistant Associate Mufti called 34 names (several people showed up late to eat and drink and camaraderie), with no birthdays or double numbers or other excitement.  Nonetheless, everyone in the photos looks pretty happy.

She's smiling in there somewhere.

GFH3 Run #1,769; 3 September 2014

Walks on Water's stretch of Arlington contains some decent hills, but he and Mini Schlonga and Eric made the choice to eschew the most challenging of them on this hot and humid night.  Instead, they sent the pack on a non-Death March (remember the last time we were here?  Minivans carjacked to haul hashers out of the depths of the Potomac in the dead of night?) through pleasant parks, along Donaldson Run, and back through the less-undulating streets of Cherrydale and environs.

Nonetheless, while MinS insisted true trail was a (to him) paltry five miles, most of the 16 runners short-cutted in one way or another.  The holdouts?  Chip Off the Old Dick and Matt stuck with true trail, bashing their way through the second woodsy bit in the dark, and marking the checks assiduously.  Probably Bad Dog did, too; if he's made it in by now, you can ask him.

Once you've bonded like this, you've got to run the full trail.

There were 30 of us total, including Melisande without a crutch but not up for running yet, Paula abandoning the charms of Charm City for the evening, and Howard floating free of Space City.  It was, of course, well worth the trip.  The walkers got a proper trail, incorporating stretches of the runners' trail, and everyone got bratwursts and beer and WoW's family-recipe spud salad, which is delicious with or without the bacon.  Plus Tofu Pups for at least one of us, and the delightful Mo declined to be added to the roll but kindly provided us with two super-delicious and homemade cakes, moist and dense and the vanilla one filled with fruit.  Cake!

With the Mufti off doing surveillance on the Outer Banks, and the Associate Mufti performing reconnaissance in Croatia, the Assistant Associate Mufti was entrusted with the official roll, thumbing exasperatedly through the 2,006-name C List to find the couple of Mount Vernon regulars who joined us.  Also getting a tiny bit of something just a little bit sticky on the B List.  Sorry, Mufti.

Lovely view on a bit of false trail -- makes it worth the extra distance, right?

We welcomed Dana from Tampa, formerly of Arlington and soon to be of San Francisco, plus Anne, for their #1 GFH3 runs, and Chris for #2.  See if you recognize them in the photos here.  Given the early dark, you'll find fewer than usual.

See you at Zipperhead/Zipperbody and Phlashback's at 6:30!! next week.  That's right, 6:30pm next week, half an hour earlier so the Phlashheads and Dances with Bulls have a little extra daylight in which to shove you through the woods.  Fun!

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 #1,696; 8 May 2013

We must be brave, and face some facts.  This hash is not much good at following directions, finding trails, or, often, running.  It is also kind of lousy at adjusting to change.  Every year, when we switch from Saturdays to Wednesdays, and every year when we switch back again, we get a week or two of light attendance and a couple dozen people pulling up the website two days late to the realization -- d'oh -- they missed it.  Add a light drizzle from cloudy skies, and you get 19 people, the true hash elite, showing up in Reston for what may be (oh, woe) our last hash from Bobby, Lust in Space and Put Away Wet's place.

Hares in the rain, wondering what's happened to the hounds.

That's right, along with deep confusion over the trail markings (Put Away Wet:  "The X's mean... 'Don't... go here.'"), which sent Chip Off the Old Dick back onto trail to sweep at about 8:00pm, we got the frightful news that the Wet family is decamping to New England, trading their townhouse for acres of pasturage and horses.  This is what comes of this government budget-cutting:  people get tempted with early retirement offers, and whoosh.  They're off to the mountains.

In this case, they're off with a bang, or at least a loud plop, as the rain (PAW and COtOD got caught in a thunderstorm while setting in the afternoon) turned the ground to super-slippery clay that gave the hashers a bit of trouble.  But there was more trouble from the trail itself; Rrocks Starr actually phoned in for help at a point where the pack could find nothing but Xs, and got a rescue mission from LiS.  Even once put right, they couldn't stay right, and spent way longer out in the gloaming than their hares expected.

So the pizza got cold, but what's cold pizza?  No one cares if the pizza's cold!  And the beer was already cold, and the beverages, both adult and not-so, were plentiful, and the tarpaulin protecting the wood floors allowed everyone to relax.  And Bobby showed us his new saddle, which was made in England.  Tactfully, no one told the pack Phoenix Rising's explanation for why he had no trouble with the trail markings while the rest of the hash had nothing but trouble:  "They're stupid.  I'm not."

You don't need to be careful coming down the hill if there's a beer cooler at the bottom (to stop your slide).

The Mufti is still feeling a bit beat (and beaten up by his physical therapist, sadly), so he didn't join us, though one hears rumors of cane-assisted mobility.  Maybe next week.  The Associate Mufti was watching other people exercise over by the Navy Yard.  That means I, entrusted with the official roll for the second time this lifetime, called the count.  Don made double 1s, and Lori double 6s, and everyone cheered like crazy for the Wet family.  PAW actually claims she will still be visiting, as company hq is here, but what about LiS?  And Bobby?  Oh, Bobby.  We will miss you terribly.

But we'll be able to write, phone and visit as we have updated contact info in the hash directory!  That's right, I'm updating the directory all day every day, in preparation for distributing paper and e-copies at the Anniversary Hash, which will take place... someday.  Probably in June.  So please see me the next time you see me and double-check that, unlike Rrocks Starr, we don't have a seriously outdated work phone  number listed for you.

Oh, and sign up to host, would you please?  We need a hero next week, although the May slots are going fast.  This is clearly the most...

Click here if you'd like to see more blurry pictures.

FORGOT TO MENTION!!  GHANARRHEA (really, the things you people come up with) IS VISITING IN JUNE AND NEEDS A PLACE TO STAY.  If you can offer him a bed, couch or pile of dirty laundry in the corner of the basement for the night(s) of Monday 24 June, Tuesday 25 June, Wednesday 26 June or any combination thereof, he promises not to review your guest room harshly on Yelp.  Please let the Mufti or me know if you can be hospitable.

GFH3 Run #1,686; 2 March 2013

The hash met under appropriately somber skies in a cold breeze on the day of Alan Marlette's funeral.  We had a good turnout of 34 despite the weather, with two members already in their dress shoes in preparation for the service.  With BC3 and the Mufti, our putative hosts, indisposed, Oral Advocate, I'm Not Dead Yet and Mini-Schlonga set what Oral A. called "a perfect trail," and they kept it brief.  Starting at Reston's Lake Anne Plaza, the trail headed in a westerly direction, rather than around the lake, and brought the runners back to the plaza after about three miles and 40 minutes of mixed road, trail and grass with a bit of light shiggy in the mix.  The walkers, on Oral A's advice, had a quick walk sticking close to the plaza.

Hash Brief for a brief hash

I may be wrong, but I believe that Blow in the Hole and Lezley were the FRBs (I know they were at one point), since Manic Mechanic and Easy Strider were too busy trying to knock each other down hills to focus on running fast.  I shan't tell my Cockpit Ejeculator story because I'm nice, and it's not a great story.  Dave G. showed up really late and got lost but made it to the On-In just fine.  I saw my first snowdrops of pre-spring and took several photos in excitement.  I also saw a majestic hawk, which Ole Fud identified as a red-shoulder hawk, who was very suspicious of my clicking pix as he was guarding his catch, which seemed to be an unlucky squirrel.  The hawk kept trying to fly off, but maybe he had trouble lifting the squirrel, as he only went short distances.

Two newcomers joined us -- Kimberly and Peter have hashed, mostly overseas, enough that he's called Blue Tit in other lands.  However, we lost them somehow.  Oh, woe.  They seemed lovely.  Maybe they'll try again next week, when THE HASH IS AT 11:00 AM.  That's AM, not pm.  Morning.  Sorry for the people who hate early hashes, and you're welcome to people who prefer them.

The On-In that our first-timers missed (99.5 to the cup!) took place at Kalypso's, where beer was plentiful and the wine list extensive.   I was the only one to order flaming cheese, which seems astonishing.  How does one look at a menu that includes the appetizer saganaki, "seared Kasseri cheese flamed with brandy," and think, "I guess I'll have a burger."  Everyone gasped and a few applauded when the waiter set fire to supper.  Plus it's yummy.

A drinking club with problems running, heh heh.

I took the roll with the help of a piece of paper and pencil kindly sent over, via BC3, by an injured and ill Mufti.  So apparently I'm demoted from clipboard-ing, and back to scrap paper, pens scrounged from glove compartments and pencil stubs.

Several left early to visit with Alan's family; others rushed away to change for the service; those who hadn't known him well lingered.  The Kalypso's staff did a great job with our erratic group.  We forgot to vote on whether the Mufti should get credit for the run, because at least he offered to host, albeit at a restaurant, but I think he should.  After all, he tried.

The people, as well as the lovely snowdrops, majestic raptor and unfortunate small mammal, are all shown in the photos via this link.

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.