GFH3 Run #1,702; 16 June 2013 - 31st Anniversary and Mufti Appreciation Day!!!

Yes, of course:  EVERY day is Mufti Appreciation Day.  But NOT every day is the 31st anniversary of the GFH3, so this one's maybe a bit special.

As per, the hash gathered in the early afternoon at a gracious Great Falls estate replete with swimming pool and spreading lawn.  Packing Pink Heat and Pickled Peter's place also affords views of a swan pool, which is just the sort of elegant embellishment our group warrants.  Before taking off through the woods to get sweaty, muddy and bloody, the group convened to have its photo taken, with absolutely everyone looking his or her very best in every shot.  You probably realize how rare that is in a group picture.  Thanks to Hand Job for the actual shooting.

Dahling, you look MAHvelous!  (especially Mollie's tummy)

Then it's away, down the hill, into the tall grass, under the trees, over the stream, up, down, over, under, around and back, in less than an hour (nice hares!), to leap the stream again, emerge from the trees, thresh the tall grass, and race back up the hill to where all the picnicking awaits, and several small children await various daddies who will take them in the pool (nice daddies!).  The walkers kept mostly to the streets, enjoying the light drizzle from overcast skies that came as such a pleasant change after Friday and Saturday's clear skies, light humidity and perfect temps.

Here is a useful strategy for enjoying a Hash potluck:  find Paddle My Candee Ass.  Ask her what she brought.  Go find those things and load your plate with them.  Since not everyone could get corn on the cob (not after I'd been through it, heh heh), it's a good thing that To Bea or Not to Bea made nine pounds of southern-style barbecued spareribs.  You know what would be a good thing for you to put in the comments?  Your favorite dishes from the potluck.  That would be a good thing for you to put in the comments.  For instance, "There was some delicious mac and cheese with crunchy bits on top."  Unless, of course, you got to the mac and cheese after I did, in which case you missed the crunchy-top-bits.  Heh heh.  Also, thanks to whoever brought the fizz and oj.  Mimosas are just the thing for picnics.

Mimosas in the tub on the far right.

Of course, the bestest most part of the anniversary run is the Mufti's annual awards ceremony.  He makes up new ones every year, and the 2013 edition included mother-and-child whisks for Beef Strokemoff and Tasty Cakes' high culinary standards, a rubber chicken-like item for Greg and Lori's backchecks-only trail, a keep-off sign and super-soaker for Suck Squeeze Bang and Heater Beater to help cope with testy neighbors (don't tell them, but Phlashback and Zipperhead have the same awards waiting when they return from dads' day or graduation or whatever they're doing), a map for Land Ho and Cums Up Slowly to help them get home with a bit less effort next time, and Band-Aids(r) for all 17 (or however many) of our lucky crew came through injury, illness and other bodily damage in the last year.  Then the usual suspects got their annual thanks (very high end chocolate bars, mostly) for things like Money Bitch-ing, Associate Mufti-ing, blogging (that's right, they pay me for this in candy), roll-call maintaining, t-shirt ordering and anniversary-hash hosting.  Yay for everyone.  In all the excitement, the Mufti forgot (this is the first time he's ever forgotten anything, isn't it?) to offer the Death March award to some misbegotten, undeserving fink.  You know he'll get to it, though.  Oh, yes -- he won't go without assigning the Death March appropriately.

Magic future boo-boo preventers for everyone!  (A few more people could have gotten in on this award, btw.)

On a more solemn note, the recently-widowed Mary joined us to accept a photo (thanks, Radar) of our founder and her husband, Last Call.  Mary made a few kind remarks about the joy the hash had brought Last Call, and the psychiatrists' bills it had saved many of its members (from the peanut gallery:  "All that money went to orthopedic surgeons instead.").  Mufti also asked that we remember Alan Marlette, who died earlier this year.

Much less solemnly, Ole Fud stepped up to the non-existent mic to lead revised versions of popular folk tunes, including Mary Gurr and Gwen Dargis's version of "Camptown Races."  Valiant recalled Last Call's attempts at live setting, which chronically ended in early capture of the hare, even when he deployed his two young sons to begin the "live" set early and get all those irritating false trails laid well before the hounds were loosed.  One understands our founder had a stubborn streak, but eventually he gave up, and the pre-set trail became the GFH3 standard.

Ole Fud moved on to a munificent tribute to the man he plans to establish as Grand Mufti of Great Falls ("If elected, I shall not serve," the Mufti promised).  The grateful multitude brought forward gifts of plenty:  a portrait surrounded by expressions of affection and respect, a digital photo frame stuffed with 30 recent photos of hash activity (and less-recent ones when Duck Sucker gets a crack at Radar's .nef format), the Mufti Appreciation Book and a gift certificate for the Auberge, which Blazing Straddle believes will be sufficient to cover an enjoyable dinner for three, thank you very much.  Finally, Bionic Babe unveiled the 31st Anniversary Shirt, with a wonderful illustration by her talented younger offspring.  You do not want to go without one of these shirts.  Contact Bionic Babe ASAP to order.

You, too, can have a handsome Mufti Appreciation Day t-shirt.

If you click here, you can see photos of all the people and all the dogs but Mango, who had to go home early for a nap.  A photo of all the kids gathered together would be lovely, but the gathering process would not, so, no -- no group kid shot.  Thanks to Hand Job, Queen Cobra, Suck Squeeze Bang and Greg for help with pix.

GFH3 Run #1,695; 4 May 2013

A beautiful, warm, sunny spring day may not be what some think of as quintessential hash weather, but it makes a great tribute to our founder, Last Call.  So while the 25 of us gathered on the Duck Sucker and Queen Cobra 's tennis court by Scott's Run held heavy hearts, the sorrow was tempered with joy in the 31-year old tradition he granted us, the friends around us, and the chance to dash about in the woods on a beautiful day.  Queen Cobra requested a moment of silence, and then dedicated today's run to Last Call, receiving a heartfelt "ON ON" and much lifting of caps from the group.

In a way, every GFH3 run is dedicated to Last Call, 1936-2013.

And as I understand it, LC was a fan of hilly terrain, so this was a fitting course to dedicate to him.  The walkers got a free pass -- "try to stay out for an hour," was about all QC instructed -- but the runners had a trail that almost immediately sent them off the established path and into bushwhack territory.  Of course, you can't get far in Scott's Run without bumping into some kind of path, so they bounced between the two a bit.  There was a slightly diabolical scramble down a steep hill (rather cliff-like, actually) to a creek crossing.  Air Horn traversed that latter via the most sensible path, upstream a bit to the big, dry rocks, having previous experience of the wetter downstream crossing wherein he caught a bit of water-moss or rock-slime that knocked him on his coccyx.

Do you think the phrase, "Kill the hare" was in anyone's mind at this point?

The Duck Sucker was able to disclaim all responsibility for the trail, as it was entirely QC's setting, but it turns out he knew in advance about the more-than-slightly-diabolical backcheck 18.  Funny how these things work out -- Easy Strider caught that one, as did Dave, coming along a bit later.  Doesn't that suggest that someone neglected to mark the trail?!?

Easy Strider got his, though, as he, Suck Squeeze Bang and Chip Off the Old Dick lost true trail and wound up short-cutting.  No doubt they will tell you they ran just as far as the non-shortcutters, but I believe that if you come to the On In through the woods and you were supposed to come up the driveway, you are a short-cutter.  Admittedly, they didn't save much time, but they were nonetheless seated, with beers and burgers, by the time the others strolled by the Mufti Parking Only sign and in through the front gate.

The burgers were courtesy of Patty, hashing (or cooking for same) for the first time at her sister's.  She does great work, and left QC free to hostess at a very high standard, personally serving people and taking burger/dog counts to be cooked to order.  Later there were brownies, also the result of Patty's efforts, so yay Patty.

Despite the parking place prepared for him, the Mufti did not join us -- was this elective surgery? -- on orders of the Money Bitch, living up to one part of her name.  But Bionic Babe did make it, bringing a get-well card for the Mufti for everyone to sign.  No one else had brought one, figuring that everyone else would.  You know how that works.

Seriously -- was this elective surgery?

Oral Advocate pitched in on roll call, opening with a heavy-heartfelt elegy for Last Call.  If I tell you it contained frequent iterations of the phrase, "fat ass," that makes it sound less sincere and respectful than it was.  He turned the figurative mike over to Ole Fud, who memorialized his friend and fellow West Pointer with eloquence and grace.  More cap tipping and many, many "hip hip ON ON"s rang through the McLean evening.

The roll call also revealed four first timers, so welcome, Patty, Tim, Katey and John.  And it revealed the double 1s and the double 5s, both in Rrock Starr's run count.  Isn't it wonderful to have RS back from the wicked west coast?  Oral Advocate also closed out the fall/winter/early spring season, on behalf of the missing Mufti, and opened the late spring/summer season, which begins on WEDNESDAY at Put Away Wet, Lust in Space and Bobby's.  If I don't make it, someone please chase that kid for me.

You may have to squint a bit and peer in at some of these photos, as there are several where the subjects were well screened by trees or rocks or were up kind of higher than the camera likes.