GFH3 Run #1,792; 24 January 2015

"the trail was great and we got to run through a golf course that [Chip Off the Old Dick] had permission to set the trail through. [Nipple Knocker] had exactly 7 miles. There were a ton of true trail arrows [COtOD] didn't want the runners to be all confused and making wrong turns :)"

It's a tunnel.  How many wrong turns could you make?

Thanks to NipKnok for photos.

GFH3 Run #1,791; 17 January 2015

Several people commented that this year's Boom Boom Birthday Hash was not nearly as unpleasantly cold as it has been since the tradition began back in 2011, when she was just 99 years young.  Temps being well above freezing, Big Balls on Deck had to include the warning, in his brief, that some of the mud was thawed, and therefore treacherous in different ways than in the still-frozen sections.  He also had to warn about watching out for arrows, in order to ensure avoidance of un-permissioned private property, and offered a special graffiti treat!

While 14 walkers hung back for special instructions, 30 runners got themselves down the hill to the first check, and a whole bunch of them checked to the right while the rest hung around waiting.  Eventually, everyone charged off to the left and found their first arrow, pointing them downhill.  Was it Cock in the Crease who complained that starting with a downhill just meant he'd have to climb back up later in the run?  Reassurances that this was an all-downhill trail did not seem to help.

Away we go.

Then there was some confusion in the middle of the trail.  Remember the graffiti treat?  Phoenix Rising, working backwards and early, found it before the others, and found a law enforcement officer on the site.  The L.E.O. informed him he was trespassing, and after a bit of reasoned discourse, with PhR making some salient points, the L.E.O. offered to write PhR a citation.  They both agreed that would not be nearly as much fun as finding a different trail -- which PhR did, eventually bumping up against the main pack and recommending a judicious detour.  So Sean and Not-Jennifer (sorry!) were the only two to run the true trail, as they'd gotten far enough behind not to witness the hash careering off onto false trail, and the L.E.O. was gone by the time they arrived at graffiti central.  Nipple Knocker has promised a photo of the graffiti (he helped BBoD and Paddle My Candee Ass to set).  When he sends it, I'll post it.

No known explanation for any of this.

So eventually everyone made it back to the On In, where Norm was grilling bratwurst, PMCA had finished making gravy, and Jill had filled every horizontal surface in the house with food.  We're talkin' pork, we're talkin' chicken, we are talking about several potato salads and a crock pot full of mulled wine and cheesy casserole and scalloped potatoes and something like chili.  We are talking, ladies and gentlemen, about enough food to feed 90, and sufficient beverages for 150.  (In addition to the 48 hashers, there were about 10-15 friends and family, so while doggy bags were available, there were significant inroads made.)  At last report, no one had attempted the bottle of Wisconsin cranberry wine.

The Associate Mufti, or Mufti Pro-Tem, played his M.C. role to the hilt, lauding Jill and her myriad helpers for the feast, and demanding an on-key rendition of the happy birthday song.  He may actually have blown a kiss to the birthday girl, who looked spry and happy despite all the shouting strangers banging about around her.  "I hope they're not drunk," she acknowledged at one point, but expressed delight at seeing, and hearing, the young folk enjoying themselves.

Here's to 103 more!

And enjoy themselves they did, as shown here.  Thanks to PMCA for additional photos.

GFH3 Run #1,786; 20 December 2014

Blazing Straddle heroically offered up her home (yes, we were here just a month ago) for a hash, and Spurt and Blow in the Hole offered to help out with flour.  So they all got together at eight ack emma, when it was still fairly chilly, and slathered historic downtown Herndon with floury marks, and then BStrad started her pots boiling, and by noon twenty more of us had joined the heroes as the sun struggled with cloud cover and the day warmed up to downright cool.  "Enjoy downtown Herndon," was most of the brief (plus something about a possible backcheck), and the group split almost down the middle, with eleven runners heading south and then east while nine walkers followed Ole Fud toward the TRAIN!  And the bread bakery.  Let's not forget the bread bakery.

The Jazz Swinger remembered the bakery.

The run was mostly paved, describing a fair-sized southerly clockwise loop that crossed the W&OD twice.  Despite the presence of young whippersnapper Mike, the pack stuck pretty well together.  Or perhaps because of said presence; as Rough Cut notes, the reason we have whippersnappers is so someone else can check the falses.  Not that R.C. didn't check a few falses his own self...

The first shall be last, and then catch up to the front again.

Some of the walkers spent some time in the woods, fortified by Great Harvest carbs; most stuck to the asphalt.  And the TRAIN!  Everyone eventually wound up back at the house, where Mango, Oscar, Abby and Kylie gazed hopefully at the plates of noodles and meatballs.  Okay, Oscar not so much -- he doesn't do people food.  In fact, offered one of BStrad's sister's homemade Christmas cookies, he barely seemed to notice.  Silly Oscar.  Those cookies were good.

Even more fun than trains.

The Mufti hollered his roll, celebrating Rough Cut's 900th run with raucous cheers.  Then he bid the group a fond, "See you," as he mentally finished packing for the long drive to California.  He urged everyone to extend the same respect, courtesy and attention to Acting Mufti The Oral Advocate as we do to himself... then thought that over and suggested maybe just a hint more would be appropriate.  Phoenix Rising urged O.A. to remember the 'benevolent' part of 'benevolent dictator.'  The inter-regnum begins two days post-Christmas, either in Herndon or Ashburn.  Watch the official site, and if you like, take a gander at this week's photos, too.

GFH3 Run #1,784; 6 December 2014

Rough Cut Rides to the Rescue!  Hash Hero Does it Again!  Not only did he provide a warm, dry place for 18 hashers to gather, with Easy Strider for the assist he laid a well-marked four-plus mile trail around Leesburg, with enough mud and rock to keep it amusing.  Intermittent downpours made setting amusing for our hosts, until E.S. shook both fists at the firmament and shouted, "Is this the best you've got?!"  Allegedly, they were subject to nothing worse than drizzles after that.  More news from the set:  they had to stop at a grocery store and pick up additional flour.  Imagine those two showing up in your baking goods aisle, soaking wet and squeaking clay across the floor.

Happy birthday to Dr. Pecker, PhD!

Seven runners essayed the course, six forwards and one backward (on purpose), and they mostly seem to have checked almost every false trail, so that Jeffy Lube claimed almost seven miles on his GPS.  Chip Off the Old Dick, exploring the mud with his usual commitment, wound up far behind the others, re-checking the falses and returning late, covered with glitter.  He claims he doesn't know where that came from, either.  One colleague guessed mica in the rocks; another guessed strip clubs just across the state line.

Mud plus rocks!

Over on the walkers' side, they mostly toured Leesburg, with the Mufti and Ole Fud covering over three miles, including several circuits of the train store, and barely beating the runners back.  No one got too terribly wet, though a steady drizzle ensured enthusiasm for dry socks back at the On In.  There was also considerable enthusiasm for the pizza, the Oklahoma/Oklahoma game and the Heineken.

The Mufti was of course enthusiastic over his roll call, congratulating our host on his heroics as well as his 898th run, and the former Drill Me, Fill Me, previously known as Open Wide and Swallow, on his 300th run with its concomitant new name, which is either Dr. Jaws or Jawbreaker, depending on who was shouting the loudest.  Mufti also asked, again and again, "Is anyone desperate to host next week?"  Receiving a reverberant silence in response, he invited everyone to his and BC3's place for brunch.  That's a NOON START on Saturday.

Blow in the Hole helped with the photos; thanks!

GFH3 Run #1,781; 22 November 2014

With a warming trend on its way and the sun shining high from a blue, blue sky, 41 hashers convened on Blazing Straddle's house, where she was putting the final touches on chili for 35.  Whoops.  Anyway, she and Money Bitch had put all kinds of touches on a long, woodsy trail; some controversy arising over the possible existence of 'false checks,' and a rumor making the rounds that true trail was 7.9 miles.  That rumor was countered by physical evidence, but you know how it goes with rumors.

Most of the GFH3 knows the neighborhood pretty well, BStrad being a generous and frequent hostess to the group, so people who wanted to shortcut could.  One small contingent of walkers, new to the area, claimed to have gotten pretty seriously lost and walked a skosh further than desired, but they were still smiling at the 60-minute mark, so good weather and great company were apparently offsetting the impact of bruising tootsies.  The true-trail runners spent more than 90 minutes in the fresh air, and looked mighty fine as they pounded down the final hill, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, and Air Horn hardly wincing at all.

Ironman triathletes scoff at even the longest hash trail.

The final days of autumn make chili and fixins a natural choice, and the hash filled up, to the point that BStrad had to break out some noodles and tomato sauce for the handful who didn't make it to the stew pot in time.  There was also a delicious coleslaw, with raisins and almonds, and warm brownies making the rounds.  The beer was confusingly housed inside -- but trust this group to find the beer when it gets relocated.

Mufti shouted the roll, welcoming a full family of first-timers:  Abigail, Brian, Christa and Nate got talked into hashing by Bad Dog.  Per Oral Advocate, they're natural hashers, which he apparently intended as a compliment.  Erotic Equation made a special-guest-star appearance, and John, at maybe his third hash, started making noises like he'd consider hosting.  Be nice to newcomer John, everyone.  He seemed a little freaked by the idea that there's no way of predicting how many people you have to feed...

Guess who ran and who attended a flute recital.

The Oral Advocate warned the Exec Comm that Mufti and BC3 plan to abandon us for the questionable joys of southern California (warm weather, sunshine -- who needs that?) for three months beginning just after Christmas.  They promise to return, if everyone behaves.  After all, who wouldn't want to come back to all this?

GFH3 Run #1,775; 11 October 2014

From Valiant:

A combination of the noon start time and the morning rain resulted in the lowest turnout this year.  We had only 18 stalwart hashers, including the host, evenly split between runners and walkers.  The rain stopped before the run began, and the the hash set off on a relatively short but challenging course, which included some virgin territory, stream crossings,  and several muddy stretches near the river.  All arrived back within slightly more than an hour, with no serious mishaps to report, not counting the usual confusion about markings.  There was enough food for 50 and enough beer and wine for 60.  It was warm and dry enough to gather outdoors. Valiant showed off his new pool side pergola, and the Oral Advocate both called the roll and audited the Mufti.  Some of the old timers recalled the origin of their nicknames.  The front field was empty of cars by 3:30pm.

Archival Valiant

Archival Phyllis

FOR NEXT WEEK:  Please wear red, white and blue in celebration of GFH3 hash #1776!

GFH3 Run #1,752; 14 May 2014

Gracious, he's a clever young man, isn't he, our Chip Off the Old Dick?  All that shiggy he was able to find in the oft-traveled neighborhoods of North Reston.  And the weather helped out a bit, as recent rain rendered the dirt paths extra slick and entertaining.  Phoenix Rising claimed credit for ensuring that all 20 runners weren't still on trail at 9:00pm (his son sometimes sets long).  COtOD, assessing Dad's assertion, remarked, "A strong sense of self-esteem can be healthy."

Extra points for style!

Our two hosts should be feeling healthy tonight, as this, their yumpty-gazillionth foray into setting trail, earned all kinds of plaudits from a grateful crowd of 34, including one runner's comment that, "My butt-ochs are getting a workout tonight."  COtOD's decision, accounting for clock, calendar and cloud cover, to get the crowd away pretty promptly at 7:05 or so helped ensure that not very many people were still on trail in the dark, and since those lingering few had him sweeping them up, it worked out just fine.

While the Mufti led the walkers around the lake, and the runners allowed two 18-year olds and a 19-year old to lead them across four humid miles of mud to the On In, PhR was shuttling off to pick up the victuals.  Living up to a well-earned reputation, COtOD fed his troops well.  There may have been 15 pizzas, which would have been plenty, but then two trays of sandwiches, just in case, plus four pans of various high-carb casseroles like enchiladas and mac 'n' cheese, plus pulled pork somewhere in the mix.  And side dishes, and dessert.  Whew.  PhR chose Yuengling and various IPAs, plus whatever was cheap in the wine aisle.  Several toasts were drunk to the memory of It's Too Long, who died at 68 on Monday, in Florida.

Exec Comm members stand by to help with roll as needed.

The Mufti called roll, which offered a respite from all the excitement of last week by offering nothing out of the ordinary.  For some fairly ordinary photographs, check here.

GFH3 Run #1,751; 7 May 2014

The Mufti often threatens “another boring Mufti trail” when he’s getting ready to host, but tonight’s trail was anything but.  Perhaps that’s because BC3 designed it; perhaps because Phoenix Rising added an eagle stub; perhaps because 22 runners of widely varying ages, experience levels and starting times essayed the trail.  Maybe it’s Mufti magic; maybe it’s a bit of each.

Wait a second – 22 runners?  That’s right:  22 runners.  A total of 48 people (plus six dogs) showed up for the first Wednesday run of the 2014 summer season.  This is unprecedented.  Usually the first Wednesday gets a very light turn-out.  It’s as if this was a special occasion or something...

Per PhR and Easy Strider, observing this scene from a '65 Volvo, this is the essence of hashing.

The weather was certainly special; after a rainy mid-day, the evening sky was clear and blue above Reston, the sun was shining brightly as the troops assembled, and everyone wondered if it was too warm for long sleeves, or too cool for short.  Everyone cheered when Rrocks Starr, Christina and Oscar arrived.  The Mufti prayed silence for the brief, credited his sig other with the best parts of the 4-mile true turkey trail, blamed PhR for a difficult and dangerous eagle option, and pointed across the bridge to the first check.  The runners ran.  The walkers got advice for a pleasant loop; Christina and BC3 took the not-that-badly-injured Rrocks Starr between them and carefully guided him on a shorter stroll.

That miniscule little scar will actually look rather dashing in time.  Even the bandage looks a little bit dashing.

After a long-ish stepping-stoned water crossing, most of the runners made it to Route 7, turned sharply left to cut across country briefly, then headed down Reston Avenue to arrive at the turkey/eagle split.  PhR waited there, to mock, bully and plead a decent number of colleagues into taking the eagle trail. I think it was seven or eight eagles, and about the same for turkeys, which leaves us with another seven or eight who were lost or confused or refusing to obey orders and making their own trails.  Fine.  Be that way.  Incidentally, Cocked and Loaded made like an eagle and swears he got less than five miles on his GPS, but it turns out he and his colleagues blew through a couple X’s and didn’t do the backcheck ten.

Eventually everyone made it back, coming into the On In from about four different directions, with Climax Investigator leading the eagles, and young Sam sprinting to the pavilion with a vigor that made some observers (well, this one, anyway) want a little nap, and a shout loud enough to prevent any attempt at napping.  Careful conservation efforts by the Mufti ensured everyone got a sandwich and there was plenty of beer, a few Black Boxes, and lots of cookies.  Gale and Moaner Lisa showed up looking like they might have office-type jobs that keep them working past 5:00 on weekdays.

Perhaps not the essence of hashing, but a respectable effort.

And were glad they did, as this was a roll call you didn’t want to miss.  Why?  Well, Kimball got to lucky 13, Phlashback made 450, Sam turned two and Moaner hit 966 (34 to the satin jacket!).  Finishing up, Our Fearless L. double-checked to be sure he hadn’t missed anyone.  Yeah.  That’s right.  He had.  Staying light on the fanfare at her request, he announced BC3’s 500^th run.  Mufti reminisced about some of her great cooking (remember the pesto soup a few years ago?) and the time she fell and required ten stitches, which he contrasted with Rrocks Starr’s recent and paltry two.  Then we had a quiz:  what do all three BC’s in BC3 stand for?[1]  Turns out, she’s keeping her name and gaining a dangle, plus a bouquet of lovely white roses that Mango only nibbled a little bit.

She gets her very own dangle.  Is this favoritism?

Associate Mufti The Oral Advocate took the stage at that point, and noted that Our F.L. began his Hash career in the same year that the Iron Man started with the Orioles.  However, Cal Ripken, Jr. sat out for good after just 20 years with his team, while our Iron Man keeps going, all the way to 1,500 runs and beyond.  The O.A. got all sentimental, saying how glad he is to have had to chance to choose Mufti as a treasured friend.  And then he gave the poor man a t-shirt with most of our truly lovely persons depicted on it, and a bunch of insults scrawled all over the hem.

Air Horn was perhaps a midge less sentimental, lamenting the lack of a truly independent audit of the Mufti’s run count, with details of A.H.'s own frequent attempts to instigate one (many rude comments from the assemblage), and claiming the package he held contained a solid-gold plaque, imported from Italy especially for this momentous occasion.  It was actually a handsomely-framed[2] photo of the two honorees and their fuzzy puppy.  O.A. requested a song, sung nicely, Ole Fud counted down to “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” and the rendition made the Associate Mufti truly proud.  He also organized the clean-up.

We don't need the Jazz Swinger to sound good.  Or okay, at least.

Thanks to Blow in the Hole for help with pictures, which you can see here.  Radar promises to send the professional-quality photos, but we all know what his promises mean.

---

[1] Book Club, Boot Camp and Boat Captain. 

[2] Thanks, Kimball and Beef Strokemoff!

GFH3 Run #1,745; 29 March 2014

“Perfect Hash weather,” the Mufti congratulated hares and hosts before the brief began.  Perfect, indeed – or at least it may have been in San Diego, maybe, or one of those Mediterranean islands like Capri.  Perhaps Phuket, in Thailand, is experiencing an idyllic spring, but in Oakton this afternoon, we had a firm, steady rain and not quite enough Fahrenheits to make it feel friendly.  On the plus side, these conditions weed out the fair-weather hashers, leaving us with a close-knit, élite group of 26 to brave the elements in our various ways.

Big Balls on Deck briefed the team, explaining that the rain had probably washed away most of the Xs and many of the Ons, so, y’know, good luck.  He also advised that credit for any good parts of the trail go to Paddle My Candee Ass and Mini Schlonga, while complaints regarding less-good parts be directed to him.  It’s easier to be gracious like that when you’re 6’5”, don’t you think?

Haaashing in the rain; I'm haaashing in the rain; what a glooooorious feeeling
[jazz hands, everybody!] I'M HAAAAAPPY AGAIN!

So ten runners slid down the wet clay hillside to the trail, while 11 walkers split up into at least four contingents.  One of those contingents was BC3, who made it as far as the car, which she then drove to Target, claiming later that she had the most challenging route of the day.  The runners will take leave to disagree; their four-mile true trail included plenty of mud and at least one stream that hadn’t been there in the morning.  Dances with Bulls went in mid-way up the calf; rumor has it that Air Horn wound up practically swimming the thing.  They were further slowed down by scores of trees that were generating fluffy white foam at their bases, which looked confusingly like flour – although the actual flour was mostly shades of yellow-brown by the time the hashers found it.  Nonetheless, not much more than an hour after the brief, the Davis deck was thick with successful and now semi-dressed hashers changing into dry things.

So happy he did not have to hash on Sunday, when today's rain ceded to giant chunks of frozen slush.

Once re-dressed, they headed indoors to where Jill, Norm and PMCA had ensured several groaning boards of pulled pork, beans, chicken slices, four salads? or five?, and a multi-veggie casserole, plus chips and dips and cheese on every surface and brownies somewhere.  Many, many bottles and one Black Box of wine and a beer selection that included a growler and Warrenton’s finest Bust Head English Pale Ale enabled everyone to wash down as much food as they could stuff into themselves.

Mufti announced his own 1,497^th run, and his dear wife’s 497^th.  Coincidence?  Hmmm...  But if he stays home for the next 20 years, she can catch him up.  Boom Boom reached five, Phoenix Rising 700, and Irene the double-6s (600 to the Number of the Beast!).  Dave, who volunteered a portion of his lawn for Drill Me Fill Me’s trail last week, chose this as his first hash (99 to the cup!) and he and his brand-new sneakers got thoroughly baptized.

After threatening "another boring Mufti run" Our F.L. helped host this one instead by bringing dessert around the room.

For a visual lesson in stream-jumping form, check out the photographs here.  (That first one, of BBoD – he is making a funny face on purpose.  Never mind why.)  For a sunshiny beautiful hash, keep your fingers crossed and your aura shiny, and join us at Valiant’s next week.

GFH3 Run #1,741; 1 March 2014

For her first hash last fall, Paula hosted from a new location for the GFH3, and for her second hash today, she did the same.  See, she moved between hashes, and is now in a luxurious garden-view apartment in west Arlington, where the hills are plentiful and there’s enough parkland to offer up some shiggy, if you know where to look.  And Paula, Mitch and I’m Not Dead Yet knew where to look, so there were rich rewards for the 37 or 38 hashers who decided that the relative warmth offset the overcast skies and met up for a run today.

Hash brief, with background weirdos.

Runners got a five-mile true trail, and walkers got a three-mile – if they chose to accept it, which a few didn’t.  (Three miles is just a skosh farther than some of this crew like to walk.)  Valiant demonstrated the wisdom of a 31-plus year hasher and ran the walkers’ trail.  Judging by the condition of those who ran the runners’ trail, those few miles (Mini Schlonga got about seven on his GPS, but he ran the entire back-check 13) packed a wallop.  Everything undulates in that part of town, so calves and quads and gluts and lungs all get that little extra exercise boost, and by the time they’d jumped off the dam and crossed the stream and gotten all lost and confused around the BC-13, so lost and confused, in fact, that Phoenix Rising wound up running the trail forward, the runners were feeling the workout.  So when they reached a back-check five that sent them up a steep-ish staircase, the cheery smiles were starting to droop a bit – except Easy Strider’s.  He was thrilled to be back on trail regardless of back-checks.  Consensus, though, was that it was a good thing the trail took them more or less straight back to the house from there.

And the good things continued:  the house was full of wonderful smells.  In case you missed it, Paula’s roots are Portuguese, and a business trip to southeastern Massachusetts earlier in the week allowed her to stock up on bacalhau and fava beans.  Many hours in the kitchen (Mitch helped with the cod balls) allowed her to serve up a feast of pasteis, garbanzos with salt cod, stewed beans, and chorizo, with flan and arroz doce (rice pudding) for those who ate up all their beans.  No complaints about the beer, but the wines were truly special today, including a fantastic Portuguese Dao.  Seriously, this is way too good for the hash, but oh how grateful we are.

It's a hash, not a rugby scrum - except when the food comes out.

Mufti shouted the roll one more time before taking off to Hawai’i to rest his throat for a couple of weeks.  Loose Caboose got her birthday serenade.  Mitch hit double 4s; Bionic Babe was triple 3s, someone else was double 7s, and there were some suspect 644s or something, but Our Fearless Leader was almost hyperventilating with the excitement of it all before he finally got around to welcoming four newcomers.  Yay for Beth and Dennis and everyone else.  Double yay if we see you next week.  Sandra came back for #2, and Rick hit 99 with Lori just behind him at 98.  Mini Schlonga is close to 200.  The Executive Committee has some serious thinking to do.

If you like, you can include this story from Rick in that thinking:  “A number of us near the front of the
pack encountered a gentleman walking his dog.  I recognized him as a former Army officer with whom I had served during my career, so I stopped to say hello and briefly explained what this crazy bunch of people were doing as we ran through the woods yelling ‘On-On!’  He was clearly amused, so I invited him to join us.  He pointed towards his small dog and replied ruefully, ‘I can't do that today, but maybe another time.’

“So Great Falls Hashers should not be surprised if one day soon we are joined by General (Retired) Dennis Reimer, Chief of Staff, United States Army, 1995-1999.  As our nation's top Army officer during the conflict in Bosnia and Kosovo, he would certainly have some stories to share with us all.”

I vote Rick contact the general to invite him specifically to the next hash.  And the next one.

Lots of photos despite the poor light conditions; just click here.

GFH3 Run #1,737; 1 February 2014

HOMEMADE BEER!!!  Really GOOD HOMEMADE BEER!!!

That's all that needs to be said, isn't it?

If you're feeling all detail-oriented, you might care to note that 36 hashers gathered in Sterling this afternoon, under blue skies on a much-less-cold day than the last couple Hashes enjoyed.  There were, like, open coats, and several people not wearing gloves or hats.  Yowza.  The Mufti kicked off the official part of the event, introducing special guest Luke of the United States Navy.  Luke is doing a NEC (Naval Educational Command?) course in photojournalism, and one of his assignments is a multi-dimensional profile.  For reasons of his own, he's chosen to profile either the Mufti or the GFH3, so he may phone you to schedule an interview.  Key talking points if he does:  1)  Mufti?  What's a Mufti?  2)  I have never heard of this so-called organization.  3)  That's not me in those photos and if you ever try to claim it is I'll take legal action.

Then Brent and Melisande explained blue for runners and green for walkers, and handed out maps to any walkers who were extremely unlikely to be able to remember that complicated multi-color schemey thingy, then went inside to drink some of the good beer before the greedy hashers got back.  Rick, having changed out of a handsome cable-knit sweater, bounded across the road and raced past the meandering walkers and caught up to the runners with ease.

"and then follow the squiggly thing that looks like a W..."

The pack started out down Cascades Parkway, detoured onto a stream crossing, and then ziggy-zagged along paved walking paths, through the neighborhoods, shopping centers and elementary schools of prime LoCo real estate.  Somehow they managed to eschew the pavement often enough that every shoe was caked with the clay-mud-muck that characterizes NoVA soil during a thaw.

Their total trail was a hair (or several hares, end to end) longer than four miles, or about 50 minutes.  The walkers got about three miles (you are pushing it when you ask these walkers to traverse three whole miles), mostly along the same route as the runners.  Luke lay down in the mud and leaves to take super-excellent professional quality portraits of runners bounding through the beautiful afternoon.  He is actually a bit of a show-off.  There is nothing wrong with blurry photos taken from behind while strolling along, cursing one's map-reading skills or lack thereof.

COtOD works it, baby, for a professional
photographer who thinks a runny nose
really captures the essence of hashing.

At the On In, there were lasagnas and eggplant parmigianas and really tasty sesame green beans and stuff and did I mention HOMEMADE BEER that Flowerkraut described as, "Excellentissimo!" in a kind of loud-ish voice that suggested she had enjoyed a generous serving of the beverage in question.  There was both Oatmeal Stout and Pale Ale, and this non-connoisseur enjoyed both (small quantities of both, thank you) very much indeed.  There was also commercial beer, fortunately, as by the time Phoenix Rising got back, the custom-made varieties were both gone.  Someone suggested he go and confiscate Flowerkraut's.

Mufti, under the unblinking gaze of the professional photojournalist, called the roll with all his usual sangfroid.  Nelson and Luke celebrated their first runs (99 to the cup, if you're up to it), Rick is just four away from a name despite his desperate struggles to avoid one, and Lori just six.  Thinking caps, everyone; thinking caps!  Mufti is at 1,493.  Bite Me got credit despite leaving early to put her stitches up (stitches incurred in unspecified activity earlier in the day; head wound).

Hash time is happy time!

Thanks to Kimball for help with the snaps, which you can see here.  Now, about that upcoming 1,500th run that one of our members is going to achieve in March...




This just in:  the Mufti and BC3 kindly shared a couple of photographs from their sunny southern California vacation last week.  Whilst visiting Rrocks Starr (whose family hospitality they recommend), they toured the Galleta Meadows Estate Sculptures, including this impressive sea serpent.  You drive between the curves of its body-- off to the right, there, you can see a bit of a gap.

Cool!

GFH3 Run #1,734; 11 January 2014

Once again, full credit to Multiple Lustings for her hash heroics in creating that Facebook page.  Here’s the back story:  one week ago, at hash hero Blow in the Hole’s, the Mufti called for a hero for this week.  Cocked & Loaded phoned home, where Queen Cobra said, “Sure.  Why not?” so he volunteered.  And then fate, as it sometimes does, answered QC’s rhetorical question with a massive dose of influenza, which laid both hosts out with fevers, severe congestion, hacking coughs and body aches that lasted days and days.  So they took to Facebook and the phones to solicit help with laying trail, and got Chip Off the Old Dick to scout and set, with Jeffy Lube and Blow in the Hole assisting.  So all QC and C&L needed to do, after autoclaving themselves thoroughly, was to shop, cook and set up for an uncertain number of guests in the low double digits (IQs, heh heh) and clean up after them.

Heroes!

The weather added to the excitement by warming up and starting to drizzle, then pour, then sprinkle, then drive steadily.  So most of the ice melted, and the rich Virginia clay turned super-slick, and the dead leaves carpeting Scott’s Run turned to ten million miniature slip-n-slides.  Nonetheless, all the hares arrived on time, and two returned early, after BitH slipped on one of the more treacherous ice floes and conked her noggin.  She got platinum treatment from our hosts, including a sneak-preview brownie, whilst JL, bearing brownies, returned to the woods and COtOD to complete the set.

More HEROES!

Eventually a crowd of about 23 assembled in the cool drizzle to learn from COtOD that, “The trail may lack something in distance, but it makes up for that with really, really, really awful footing.”  To the many shouts and imprecations that hashers watch their footing, Oral Advocate responded, “One time I was watching my footing and I slammed into a tree.”  Moderation in all things, my friends – but do watch that footing.

And handing, since the hares, re-christened billy goats for today’s run, chose some nicely steep slopes that required traversing on all fours.  Runners got all kinds of creative with their methods for making it down hills, including essentially and un-deliberately just sliding on their hindquarters or flanks.  Lori pointed out that she’d fallen twice, once on her left hip, and then on her right hip to keep things symmetrical.  Mini Schlonga showed off long and deep mud stains from waist to ankle when he finally returned to the On In.

Shelter from the storm

The return was seriously staggered.  The walkers split into three groups (partially paved, all woods, and where did BC3 go?), and got back at intervals; the runners split into more.  The first three heard, “This is where BitH fell,” and turned around and headed straight back, meeting walkers on the way.  The rest returned in ones and twos and threes, ending with Paula and COtOD, arriving at 5:30, having enjoyed a lovely sunset low on the horizon, under the rain clouds.

And what an On In we enjoyed!  Beefy chili and meatless chili with macaroni and toppings, plus garlic toast and salad and brownies, and wine and beers and soders and everything, and luxurious seating in the downstairs hashing suite, where our hosts had laid out piles of clean towels and a stack of plastic bags in case you wanted something in which to take home your wet things.  The generosity was ludicrous, but ever so welcome for our damp, chilly, muddy hashers.

Chili:  perfect for a chilly day.

Mufti’s roll included commemoration of the Oral Advocate’s 21^st anniversary – that’s right, it was the 11^th of January in 1991 when OA first yielded to Big Wheel’s invitation to join the GFH3 on one of its little woodsy jogs.  He’s averaged 40x/year ever since.  Flowerkraut hit 699, and will turn 700 next week, as we celebrate Boom Boom’s 102^nd real birthday.  See you then; or in the pictures.  Thanks to Greg for his snaps of the Potomac in the rain.