GFH3 Run #1,787; 27 December 2014

Rumor has it... there were about 35 people at Nipples and Greg's place in spite of the early start and missing website.  The course was short at about 4¼ true trail for Eagles and 3½ for Turkeys.  Nipples scouted and set, and her trail included some nice woods, several main roads, some shiggy and a history lesson for the Eagles, who cut through the Dranesville Tavern.  Everyone made it in safely with no evidence of falls, mudslides etc.  There were four dogs – Cam, Abby, Kiley and Olaf.  The weather was beautiful, sunny and almost 60 degrees, and everyone was out on the deck with the fire pit lit.  There were breakfast foods including cheese eggs, ham biscuits, sausage balls, fruit salad, and a nice crumb cake (courtesy of Beef Strokemoff).  The Oral Advocate did well as Mufti Pro Tem and we had one 99 to the cup, Tim.

And Packing Pink Heat got renamed Mimosa Mary on the occasion of her 400th run.

Anyone who has photos is welcome to send them.  These are from the archives:

GFH3 Run #1,777; 25 October 2014

Another gorgeous day in Sterling, following on a dry summer and fall.  Quick refresher:

This is what the woods around Spurt's house looked like in December 2012

Today, he had mapped a lovely 4.12-mile course, but decided it would be better if he could make the true trail less than four miles -- so he cut through the woods for a bit rather than send people on the paved path.  Fortunately for the hash, today the footing was more like this:

Lovely!  Of course, the eccentrics could still choose damp tootsies if they preferred.

Note Matt in background, headed for the bridge that goes above the water.

Consensus was that the trail was either "sucky" or excellent, both of which adjectives were intended to convey appreciation of an interesting, amusing and beautiful trail.  Further, it was of an appropriate length for those recovering from shoulder surgery, those more comfortable on two wheels, and for any Lyme-disease victims who felt like celebrating a warm and sunny day by being FRB.

The celebrating continued at the On In, with plenty of veggie-pasta casserole and beefy lasagna, with garlic bread and salad and cookies and plentiful libations.  (John:  "Fletcher [golden retriever] loves garlic bread."  Blazing Straddle:  "Who doesn't?")  So 13 tired runners and nine less-tired walkers managed to choke down some nourishment on the back deck.  If it looked like more than 22 hashers to you, that's because there were 31 people there -- lots of host/hare-types plus plentiful sweat-averse socializers.

The Mufti got his usual respectful silence for the roll call, more than can be said for Spurt's brief at the beginning of the meeting.  (Heh heh; actually, everyone was quiet for the brief -- except Susan...)  Spurt, Susan and Blow in the Hole got their well deserved cheers, Kim got an enthusiastic welcome to her first hash, with best wishes for 99 more, Greg made it to the double-8s, and Riley made double-1s.  And does anyone else believe that both Blows and Goes and Pulls Out Early did not stick around for the roll?

Mango stayed for the roll, and did not want to leave.

As the sun began snuggling into the treeline, Susan offered foil and plates to anyone who would take home some lasagna, and insisted everyone take home a banana or two.  If only it were possible to capture her tone -- part generous kindness, part coercion -- in the pictures.

GFH3 Run #1,774; 4 October 2014

First off:  The hash starts at NOON next week.  That's NOON.  Please tell your friends.

This week, the hash started at 3:00pm, or somewhat earlier for those who like to take a bit more time on the trail.  The late venue change caused only minor confusion, and most all of the day's 34 hashers were at Mufti and BC's place, basking in the sunshine, within a minute or two of the start of the brief.  The brief informed us that the Mufti and his associate, the Oral Advocate, were responsible for a four-mile trail, and no one was responsible for another couple of miles worth of false trails.  The Mufti, however, took full responsibility for the Nationals loss of Friday, when O.A. had kindly shared tickets with Our Fearsome Leader, which mistake he did not make for Saturday's game.  Which is apparently tied at the top of the 17th inning?  Is baseball different now than it used to be?  Is there a 17th-inning stretch?  Go, Nats!

Synchronized stretching.

Anyway, the run won applause from the 22 runners (and only seven walkers!  This is a serious running club!), who divided themselves into two groups according to tendon springiness while tunneling their way to Lake Ann, bypassing numerous culs-de-sac and returning circuitously to the On In via Reston Parkway and the North Point shopping center.  Walkers Beef Strokemoff and Queen Cobra were entrusted with Oscar and Mango; a high honor indeed.  Everyone was back in an hour or less, which is one way you win applause with this group.  Or you can complete the Chattanooga Choo-Choo Ironman in 2.5 hours less than your target time.  Hoorah, Bite Me!

Talk about tendon springiness...

Another way is to feed them well, which BC3 did with a magnificent spinach salad full of tomatoes in many colors, artichokes and other exoticisms.  It was an excellent embellishment of Papa John's usual fine effort.  There was enough variety in the beer tubs to tempt  Phoenix Rising to join the group very late, with his racing duds still on under his civvies.  Folks began trickling away by 4:30 or so -- perfect weather or not, autumn afternoons can get chilly.  And if you are driving a drop-top Cobra, the temperature is a concern, even if the Mufti has just begun the roll call.  If only Queen Cobra's driving her namesake roadster past the group just as Mufti shouted her name had made it into the pictures -- but it's hard to snap photos while cheering and clapping...  Thanks for shutter-assistance, Knipple Knocker!

Yeah.  That, too.

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 #1,772; 20 September 2014

The hash opened its fall/winter season with the Mufti's announcement that the next four weeks are already dibsed by eager hosts and hares, and then Spurt and Bad Dog (as proxy for Little Ricky Tutu) and maybe someone else created a foofaraw in competing for the one remaining October date.  The lesson drawn by Our Fearsome Leader?  Sign up now for a November slot!  Easy Strider:  "Isn't November usually the most popular..." [drowned out by chanting]

Controversy!  Is this the best weather ever, or was the Anniversary Hash the best weather ever?

Today was the perfect day for hosting, which is why Flowerkraut picked it.  The skies over Great Falls were balmy and blue, and the temps perfect for shorts and t-shirts with a light sheen of sweat, plus one kimono.  So 15 runners followed myriad pointing fingers to the creek, jogged downstream to the turkey/eagle split and mostly chose the eagle.  (Bubbles, briefing:  "True Turkey trail is about three miles; the Eagle about four, but it feels like five.")  There was some fairly tame shiggy and bushwhackery, and maybe a bit of new territory -- certainly terrain that Phoenix Rising hasn't trodden in many years.  Plus, an abandoned tent and a seemingly abandoned truck, and a backcheck five at the very end that brought Nipple Knocker in just behind the FRBs.  Isn't he good to find the nice backcheck for everyone?  The walkers braved the creek and strolled down to the Potomac, and found it looking hale and appropriately pastoral.

Oh, if the Marine Corps knew what he was doing with that training...

The On In offered beer in cans -- Flowerkraut loves Simpler Times -- plus Black Box wine and a bottle of bubblesy, Caribbean-style ham casserole (black-eyed peas for vegetarians), salad with tomatoes from E.S.'s garden, watermelon from same and oatmeal cookies warm from the oven.  The 24 hashers who'd managed to figure out this whole Saturday-afternoon-time-change thing basked in the sunshine from the redwood deck, counting critters spotted:  one fox, one turtle, a black snake, many deer, and approximately 7,000 cobwebs, with which pretty much everyone was festively festooned.  Also a frog, on which Matt, or maybe someone else, almost stomped.  You must not step on frogs!

No one's used to leaving the hash before sunset, and Flowerkraut likes people to stick around.

The Mufti had much to celebrate in his roll call.  Blow in the Hole made it back to the Hash, since no one schedules music-history classes for Saturday afternoons.  Paula made 55, ooh.  Todd and Candy made #1, although as their "Got Shiggy?" shirts made clear, that's #1 for the GF, not for the H3.  Perhaps they will become regulars with us, as they once were with the Okinawa H3 -- but they've got a lot of hashing options in the DC area.  If you take a look at the pictures (thanks, Irene and NipK!), you might quite reasonably think nothing could get better than the GFH3.

GFH3 Run #1,771; 17 September 2014

Drill Me, Fill Me had the house, the pool and the weather for a great hash, but his surgery schedule got in the way of setting a great trail, so Pickled Peter and Phoenix Rising showed up with their flour bags.  PhR had a route planned, "but Pickled Peter wanted to do something shorter."  And, per PhR, they set PP's route.  Everyone say, "Thank you!"  The fun backcheck nine at the very start of the run was his idea, too!

The last shall be first, except Nipple Knocker, who shall just be first.

There were several permissions required for the route, which wended its way down Springvale, into the woods, over to Utterback, back into the woods, up Buttercup, across a field and back into what one hasher termed, "real shiggy," which required bent-down running, and then up Springvale and home again, almost all 20 of them, well before sunset.  A well-set trail, with a handy built-in shortcut, that kept the main pack nicely bunched.  The 14 walkers enjoyed the warm, sunny evening with a variety of different routes, including a Valiant Tree Walk option.

Everyone enjoyed a buffet of Chinese food, the pack nicely bunched to debate what was pork, what was chicken and what was tofu.  It was all delicious.  Beverages were plentiful, and the pool inviting.  Not inviting enough to overcome the chill of a late summer night, so its waters remained unmolested, but at least one of us was seriously tempted.

Hot or cold, lit or not, everyone loves to sit around a fire.

The Mufti called the roll, welcoming back Amanda and Alex, celebrating the tardy return of Air Horn after an absence (without leave) of two months, and leading the cry for Peter's number one.  (Peter, an experienced global hasher, approved the Great Falls version.)  Mufti somewhat more decorously led a cheer for the very special guests:  DMFM's parents were kind enough to join us.  (We also got a daughter, Young Fud.)  Finally, Our Fearsome Leader raised an imperious hand and declared the spring/summer GFH3 hashing season over, announcing that it had been the best spring/summer hashing season ever.  He invited everyone to join him Saturday at Flowerkraut's at 3:00pm for the opening of the fall/winter hashing season, which he predicted would be the best fall/winter hashing season ever.  We can hope he's right -- but when is he ever wrong?

Photos right here - none yet from Radar, but this one from the Mufti.  Thanks!

"A Colorful Group of Walkers"

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 #1,766; 13 August 2014

left to right:  Not Jeff Schwarz, Not Jeff Schwarz

The Fourth Annual Jeff Schwarz Memorial Run!  What a fine tradition it is.  It began on the third of August in 2011... wait.  It actually began in July 2011, when the Mufti checked the Hareline and discovered a stranger had signed up to host on 3 August, at the Reston Community Center near Lake Ann.  "Does anyone know Jeff Schwarz?" he inquired, via e-mail and shouting.  "Is he the guy..."  "I think he might be..."  "Didn't he come with..." were the various replies.  Receiving no response when he e-mailed the putative host, the Mufti, earning his salary yet again, whistled for help.

Where it all began -- Radar was there, of course, just on the other side of the camera.

Since Lake Ann is rich with restaurants, a select group thought it would be easy to find one to host the On In, and settled on Kalypso's Greek Sports Bar and Sidewalk Café.  Then all that was left was scouting and setting a trail!  Frequent hero I'm Not Dead Yet and high-energy Mini Schlonga put their hands in the air, and chose a live set so they wouldn't need to take quite so much time off from work to get the trail laid.  They did not get caught, and at least one hasher got to order flaming cheese, so the next year everyone decided we should do it again.  The Second Annual JSMR was on 22 Aug 2012, again with a live set; the Third on 7 Aug 2013 (INDY and MinS dead-set that one), and now the Fourth, with Tasty Cakes pretending to be Sri Lankan.

The Third Annual featured checks with a 'JS' logo.

All this is a very long way of saying that, while Rochester, Minnesota, is a great place in which to feel humbly grateful for one's rude good health, it's not the ideal location for reporting on a hash.  Someone better have ordered that flaming cheese, though.

The Mississippi River is entirely irrelevant to today's hash.

THESE JUST IN:  Photos from Radar of the actual event.

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 #1,764; 30 July 2014

The last A-to-B I can remember was run number 1,500, in November 2009, when the hounds had to traverse all of the five or six miles between I'm Not Dead Yet's and Queen Cobra's.  For tonight's run, Heater Beater and Rough Cut, after dragging 31 of us out to Leesburg on a weeknight, threatened a reeeeally long A-to-B trail, claimed they were hoping to win the Death March Award, and promised vehicular transport to get everyone back from the On In at B to their cars at A.  Funny thing was, it actually was a decent-length trail:  several GPSes hit five-and-a-half.

Leesburg on a gorgeous night.

But ha ha!  The B was actually only three blocks from the A!  So the 17 runners got a BIG circle around to the east and north of Leesburg proper, and through a cemetery somewhere along the way, and then plunged back into the quaintest little downtown in northern Virginia to jog east along Loudon Street and so to HB and Puss in Boot's new little cottage.  It's a fixer-upper; they plan to rehabilitate it and then rent it out to some lucky single, or couple, or very small family.

A drinking club with problems walking past a bar.

The walkers chose a variety of routes and distances, and found such distractions as a closed model-train store against whose windows a few hashers rubbed their noses, and a bar that temporarily distracted two of the entourage from their vigorous exercise.  Everyone made it to the On In eventually - the runners' pack actually keeping pretty well together - to enjoy a gloriously warm evening on the lawn, watching the sunset dim a pale cerulean sky to mauve, and gradually to black, lit by an improbably slender sliver of moon.  And scarfing down Peruvian chicken while they did so, washed back with Red Hook and Tecate and cabernet sauvignon according to preference.

Perfect party house

The excitement of getting rid of a pair of lost-and-found shoes and two shirts before the run began was not enough for the Mufti, so he welcomed Rrocks Starr back from South America (some geographically-challenged cynic demanded to know whether he'd been exposed to ebola), and made Chip Off the Old Dick unseat himself from his comfortable wall to stand in the middle of the crowd and accept great cheers for achieving 700 runs, and led a round of hip-hip-on-ons when hash heroine Blow in the Hole volunteered to host next week.  Cheers, of course, to the gracious hosts, their attempts at trickery easily forgiven.  When the weather's this great, everything's forgiven.  Photos here if you want them; thanks to Beef Strokemoff for taking a turn with the camera.

GFH3 Run #1,762; 16 July 2014

Happy hashing!

Details garnered at long distance:

Lots of people (like, about 40) showed up to enjoy the fantastic trails of Scott's Run, perfect weather and a refreshing dip in the pool.  Hash hero Cocked and Loaded set an enjoyable run with plenty of woodsy bits.  Hash heroine Queen Cobra called in Papa John and made sure there was salad.  Beverages were varied and plentiful.  Life is good.

And no one wore this many clothes.

THIS JUST IN:  Photos from Radar!

GFH3 Run #1,761; 9 July 2014

Many of our newer hashers haven't had a chance to get to know the Jazz Swinger well, as she's been MIA (Missing in Artistic Activity, viz: busy singing schedule) a good bit for the last couple of years.  Presumably those folks now have some understanding of why she was once called 'Martha F-ing Stewart.'  Quite the hostess, isn't she?

The Jazz Swinger

And this is her Pearl Necklace face.

Her take on her hash:

"Dick Knoblauch was my hero for sure!  I was ever so grateful.

"It did go beautifully from all reports.  And the weather even cooperated!  Once the thunderstorm went through the temp continued to drop and it was all very pleasant--except for the ticks, briars and PI.  Hey, that's hashing.  Stop your whining, Joe.  No one got lost.

"We [re-]named [Suck Squeeze Bang, who is now] 'Puss in Boot.'"

GFH3 Run #1,759; 29 June 2014 - 32nd Anniversary

Mufti may say whatever he likes, but if today doesn't constitute perfect Hash weather, there is even more wrong with this group than we thought.  Blue skies, golden sunshine, low humidity, blissful warmth without a shred of too-hot-ness, and a light breeze to blow the insects elsewhere:  happy anniversary, everyone!

Everything you need for a party.

Approximately 63 hashers gathered at Packing Pink Heat and Pickled Peter's this afternoon to celebrate the beer, exercise and camaraderie arising from John Gurr's Costa Rica trip of May 1982, 32 years ago.  Chairs were unfolded, picnic contributions piled under the tent, blankets spread.  Prodigal returns were celebrated:  welcome back, John and Carol and Mike and Cock in the Crease.  Hashers marshaled themselves around the satin-jacket club and Hand Job volunteered to push the shutter button for the team photo.  In the midst of some serious to-ing and fro-ing and chatter, the Mufti prayed silence for the brief.

And may well still be praying.  Goodness knows, he didn't get much silence.  However, by great good fortune, the 29 runners did get a trail - not a result of good organization, of course, and the fortune augmented just a skosh by Phoenix Rising's OCD-ish complex that compels him to set a trail anytime anyone asks.  In fact, there are probably instances when he's set trail without being asked...

Hurrah!  We found a backcheck!

Anyway, PP hauled in PhR at about noon, and away they went, with only vague ideas as to where they might go.  The final product was on the short side, and deliciously sweet -- mostly.  While the walkers followed PPH's well-marked two-mile trail, the runners bushwacked their way to Springvale, checked lots of falses, made it to the backcheck 12 (on a trail this short, you've got to have a backcheck 12), and then skittered back to the On In through a brief sojourn in virgin territory, courtesy of the fourth neighbor from whom our heroic hares sought a permission.  Up the final hill in time for a generous potluck and a shot at the newly, and beautifully, tiled pool, hip hip ON ON!  The walkers looked curiously well-rested.

There were some seriously tasty salads on offer, and lots of fried chicken in various configurations.  The spaghetti with pesto went surprisingly well with Spanish wine cadged from neighbors, and the senior hashers managed to figure out how to tap the four mini-kegs.  Then Brent upped the ante with a growler of homemade raspberry wheat beer.  He should do that more often.

Lunch!

It was a great party, and it only got better when the Mufti started shouting.  First he shouted the roll:  11 for Melisande, 33 for Phyllis, and didn't someone have 44?  Mini Schlonga had 199, and there will be a meeting of the Executive Committee.  But first the Mufti had to wax nostalgic, putting on his thinking-fez in order to reminisce about the previous year, handing awards around for especial achievements.

If falling down and whacking one's head is an especial achievement, there is even more wrong... whoops.  Tabled.  But Blow in the Hole and Rrocks Starr did win generously-sized bandages to prepare them for the next time.  (Mufti kindly applied the bandages to their foreheads; BitH had to switch hers to the back of her head, as that's where she aims.  Or something.)  Drill Me, Fill Me got a sheaf of hand-written permission slips in honor of his March trail, which involved about a half-dozen permissions from neighbors.  You can read the text of Mufti's document in the photos here.  Consensus was that he should share them with Valiant.

The Cracked Head, or Conked Noggin, Award goes to...

But Valiant had his own award coming, and was soon waving a sprig of lovely maple leaves in appreciation of the excellence of the educational tree walks he frequently leads for his fellow hashers.  Bad Dog got a necklace signifying his possibly-OCD'ish commitment to hashing, with six big 'beads' for the six big anniversaries he celebrated in a single week last fall, including his 300th GFH3 run.  Climax Investigator earned a brand new glider that will enable him to commute between his California home and the hash at no cost and without the damaging carbon footprint of his current system.  The Mufti himself earned the coveted Velvet Glove award for inflicting the iron fist of discipline upon the hash, albeit with limited success.

He then declared the 2013-2014 season 'The Year of the Chef,' bringing forward seven of our most culinarily-talented colleagues.  Remember Paula's Portuguese feast?  How about Lezley's Irish extravaganza?  Brent's home-brewed, Air Horn's Peruvian chicken, PPH's Thanksgiving brunch, Bite Me's New Year's brunch, and Chip Off the Old Dick and Maria's every groaning (over-)board.  Someone (you may guess who) will get the Chef of the Year award the next time Mufti sees her, possibly in South Reston, maybe in the rain... COtOD and I earned fireworks-y looking things for foolishly frequent hash heroics.

Papa John ought to have been in this group.

Mufti meant to take a moment to remember Bea 'To Bea or Not to Bea' Ross and Jim 'It's Too Long' Westlake, both lost to us in the last year.  You were probably thinking of them anyway, but if your current activity is conducive to a brief memorial now, you may remember them both smiling.  They were both great smilers.

Then we had the administrative awards:  Ménage à Trois and the Oral Advocate were missing, but Radar and PhR and PPH and PP and I got a choice of crackers or chocolates (like that's a choice?!) in appreciation of photo-taking, frequent setting, anniversary hosting and blogging.

Celebrations over, the Mufti made his sad, serious face, and announced the runners-up for the Dread Death March award.  Second runner-up was the July run from R.S.'s house, which he co-set with PhR, BitH and Dances with Bulls.  First runner-up was the September run from Ole Fud's, in which he and Strac and PhR accidentally mislaid a check, causing the pack to run a really long time in the absolutely wrong direction, wondering why there was no flour anywhere.  And the 'winner' of the 2014 Death March award was (da da da da da da da da da):  Phoenix Rising, for his 4 June hash in which inclement weather and an ambitious trail conspired to make a record three search parties necessary to get everyone back to the beer.  Could happen to anyone, really.

The thing is, he did send out search parties.  There's no rule that anyone has to search for anyone.  Plus, he told everyone to turkey.  And the first search was only because of the rain.  It's not like a hare can control the rain.

And yay, hooray, hip hip ON ON to the GFH3.  Here's to another 32 years, etc. etc.  Best to end on a high note, so no mention of that whole Executive Committee meeting thing.  Thanks to Mufti, PPH and PP for organization and set-up, to PhR for emergency trail-setting and trash disposal, and to Cocked and Loaded and Queen Cobra for the wine, and Brent for the beer.  And whoever brought the spaghetti with pesto.  Also the pool looks gorgeous and feels even better.  Plus whoever's operating the weather these days, and the kids and wives who joined us and just make the whole thing that much more festive, and all the dogs who behaved so well and Suck Squeeze Bang for taking a turn with the camera.  And more.

Out in the rest of the world, Thanks for the Mammaries was celebrating GFH3's 32nd atop Denali, and Cums Too Fast got so excited he swam all the way around Key West, 12 miles of chop in about eight hours.

Cutest baby award goes to...

GFH3 Run #1,755; 4 June 2014

The listing said that Cracked Pot would be co-hosting, so of course the hash turned out in its legions to welcome her home from the Great North.  (Mitchell on gardening in Vancouver:  "We don't have mosquitoes.  There's no poison ivy.  We get very few squirrels.")  Her former neighbor, Phoenix Rising, with help from Chip Off the Old Dick, laid out a very pretty runners' trail with several permissions from the neighbors and a turkey/eagle split with all-new territory for the eagles.  Sadly, none of the 28 runners actually completed it... although there were some noble efforts.

Welcome home!

So what happened?  Seriously, two weeks ago, we had a 4.25 mile true trail, and only the three hashers who left twenty minutes early finished, and that in the dark.  Last week, we had about a four mile true trail, and everyone completed it just fine, albeit in well-faded light.  This week, PhR heard the hash thrashing about in the woods on the far side of Difficult Run as he waited on the near side with a water stop, and said, "&$!#, they're going to be another ten or fifteen minutes at least."  Since it was already nearing 8:00pm, he called an audible and dashed up the Pike to the turkey/eagle split, requesting that everyone please play turkey tonight.  Lemme tell ya, it's a weird thing to hear PhR asking people to turkey.  Bad Dog resisted the plea, COtOD elected to sweep after him, a few people hopped into the Rising van, and everyone else turkeyed.

About where the swear words started.

Needing a place to turn the car, PhR was excited to see that Towlston has re-opened -- the bridge repaired.  So he could head straight home along Old Dominion, except there he saw the pack again, not as far along as he would have liked and not as clearly visible, given it was truly dark by then.  Marking the back-check seemed insufficient, and he opted to collect a caravan of cars and auto-hash everyone back.  Sadly, the caravan had not made it to the collection point before the lowering sky did its whole pouring-buckets thing, and by the time the runners made it back, they were each and every one soaked to the bone.

There's 1.5 miles still to go, and all of it woods.

Luckily, there was hot-n-tasty Chinese food waiting for them, and plenty of it, as ten walkers and some miscellaneous extras restrained themselves nicely.  (Plus the Risings went heavy on their order, since a bunch of neighbors came over to see the Pots, too.)  The fridge was stocked with beer (Vienna Lager amongst others, out of Lexington, Virginia) and there were several Black Boxes for the wine contingent.  PhR made a special effort to find, and force into his van, the eagles -- who included the early starters Paddle My Candee Ass, Big Balls on Deck and Norm.  We lost Sean to the woods and the storm, but a search party eventually located him, and brought him back in time for the end bits of the roll call.

Runners return

And get well fed for their efforts

Mufti performed his duties with his usual élan, offering C.P. ten bonus runs if she knew her count; she was off by about 40.  Oh, well.  Cums on  a High Note, who more than ever ought to be known as Long Time Cumming, didn't know hers, either.  The three newbies knew theirs:  Alex, his dad and Chris are all at #1, and we look forward to their second runs, very soon.  As everyone agreed the trail tonight was great, and beautiful, and well worth running, maybe we'll see it again someday -- on a Saturday, for instance, in early autumn.  Easy Strider requested I take a photo of dried blood, and proposed the thigh you'll see in the photos here.  If you can guess whose thigh it is, there's something wrong with you.

MUFTI CONFIRMS THE 32nd ANNIVERSARY HASH WILL TAKE PLACE AT PICKLED PINK HEAT AND PACKING PETER'S ON SUNDAY 29 JUNE.  MARK YOUR CALENDAR!!

GFH3 Run #1,754; 28 May 2014

Radar's plea for assistance did not go unheeded, and he spent the afternoon with his buddy Valiant, throwing enough flour on the streets, trees and mailboxes of Great Falls to survive the threatened thunderstorms that didn't actually manifest.  So the 42 hashers who made their way to the garage this evening were doubly delighted:  the trail was enthusiastically well marked, and the weather was warm and reasonably sunny, if a touch humid.

Runners

The 26 runners got an under-five mile true trail, and mostly managed to complete it by dark.  The 5-K contingent made appropriate shortcuts.  Walkers, just 11 of them, got a pleasant, and well-marked, loop along Thimbleberry.  The well-bandaged Beef Strokemoff and Kimball did a little checking up on the local real-estate market, while Tastycakes rested up back at the On In.  She was fresh from nine miles in the Blue Ridge, helping Dad and Brother prepare for their attempt on Denali in a week and a half.

Miles, kilometers - there are no rules.

Arriving back at the garage, the hash found chips and guacamole as well as wine, beer and water.  Of course, just behind that there's...  THE POOL!  Radar's solar array had brought the water to a pleasant 84 degrees, which was enough to tempt a handful of swimmers, a few feet-sticker-inners, and one cannonball that only splashed a few electronic devices and a couple handfuls of chips.  Somewhere in the middle of all this, Radar started bringing out his barbequed chicken, crispy on the outside and juicy in the middle like it's supposed to be.

This is eerily similar to a picture from about one year ago...

The Mufti being absent without leave, the Associate Mufti shouted the roll, barely heard over the roar of the three mini waterfalls in the pool.  There were four newcomers; welcome Sean, Donna, Will and Will's father-in-law who is not named Justin.  Walks on Water made a special appearance, as did Heats it UP and Jeffy Lube, whom we don't usually see on Wednesdays.  Mini Schlonga was back after too long an absence (work, work, work, plus dehydration severe enough to warrant a couple visits to the E.R.).  They're all in the pictures.