Hashing 'round the world

Just When You Thought it was Over

2009-02-06T14:24:00.000-08:00

I've gone and done it again.
Returning to Orange County, this time to attend the OCHHH on Saturday with a special virgin, my brother!
I digress... my broheim and I went down to Irvine to visit our cousin and her boyfriend as well as other various relatives down in the area. Not wanting to waste a road trip with potential to hash, I looked up the local hashes and found that Orange County was hashing that Saturday, relatively close to where my cousin lives.
My brother has been following this blog (more or less?) since I started it and seems to have become interested in hashing. So I invited him along.
We woke up for the early 10:00 a.m. trail, threw our crap on and headed to the start. It was all smooth as silk except that my brother forgot to pack his running shoes.
Never mind that, we'll stop by Sports Authority and pick some up...
Scratch that, he'll grab some sandals and just wear his Adidas Sambas. Silly bro.
We get there and it's a grand turn-out. I figure about 40ish hashers are there, including some new boots.
After a half-hour late start, they RA starts pulling things together and we do introductions and for lack of a Hash-it, they grab an extra flag and award it to me, myself and I. Silly OCHHH.
We are informed that there will be 3 (count 'em) beer checks. Two unmanned and a third one, also unmanned (those crafty hares!). We take off, almost immediately after exiting the parking lot, jumping down into a drainage channel that leads us under the local Ikea store (I suppose going through their parking lot wouldn't be the brightest idea now, would it?). But first, a beer check.
Those of us willing to hop the fence and get into the muck were rewarded with a 24 pack of cold Pabst Blue Ribbon. Congrats bro, your first beer check!
We continued on... As I entered the tunnel leading under Ikea I hear a "oh shit." behind me.
Turning around, I see my brother poised like a graceful drunk ballerina on one foot, his hand stretching out before him to pull his shoe out of the much. Tie your laces bro.
As my brother slips his shoe back on, I hear the phrase yet again. I turn around in the direction we are heading to see the sillouette of another hasher whose shoe fell victim to the sludge. Tie your laces random OC hasher.
We continue on through the tunnel, at times stepping carefully, at times running in the complete dark with wantan regard to what might be ahead of us, sloshing through the muck, splashing through the water. Keeping close to those with flashlights as if they were lifevests on the Titanic. It was a romp and extremely fun for those who dared enter the dark.
Our reward on the other side was beer-check number two. Yet another case of PBR.
Yes, I pity those walkers who were too primm to enter the dark lair of Ikea's underbelly!
At the next road we jump out of the ditch and return to shiggiless road. Cross a parking lot and traverse in, out and around a couple business complexes before arriving at a Jeep with beer-check number (saaaaaaaay it!) THREE!
I arrive and pop open another PBR while waiting for my brother to arrive. When he does we take off on trail again after a quick respite. This time it leads us around a fence, down some railroad tracks and again stretches across the endless blacktop of business complex parking lots. Sensing the hares and FRB's ahead, I bid my brother adieu and took off, flag in tow. Arriving fairly close behind the FRB's to the On-In (which was also the start in this A-to-A trail).
Quietly ditching the hash-it under a nearby car, I formulated a half-assed (more likely quarter-assed) story of my taking a piss and someone nabbing the hash-it from me while weenie was in hand. They kinda-sorta-not really bought it, and I was given down-downs for both the various expected infractions and then for my superfluous invasion of their circle. But c'mon, they were repeating songs! Even I know this is against standard OCHHH circle code!
My brother was called in for his down-down, they closed circle with Hash Hymn number 1 and then we all shifted over to Hooters for the on-after. Hotwings and beer were served. I was punched in the shoulder by a girl who seemed to have violence issues and good times were had by all.
Oh, I also kinda-sorta stole a beer vessel that Momy Hatchet was returning to the OCHHH from North Carolina after they said they didn't want it.
I probably would have cared less, but the thing looked to have solid history behind it and the only other option was Momy running over it with a car.
So, I guess the LVHHH has some tasks ahead of them and the OCHHH has some retrieving to do. This should be a fun year.

Last (lifted) leg

2009-01-22T11:20:00.000-08:00

On Wednesday Special Ed and I took a jaunt up North to Newport Bay where the Orange County Hump Hash was holding their weekly rendezvous of hashing goodness.
Much like the Porter's Pub hash, they use each of their checks as holds for the pack to come together. Surprisingly enough though, without the Q&A sections, the pack was still able to keep moving at a fairly reasonable pace. Only near the end, when a late arriving EO was playing catch up, did we have a couple longer holds.
Coming to the On-In itself was a load of fun as well as there are some serious runners in the O.C. hash and I took the opportunity to expend a fair amount of built up energy from the plane flights in all out drags with Howdy Do Me, Prick and another chap whose name I cannae recall at the moment (which is funny because he was the most competitive of the lot!).
We circled at a harriette's place with loads of top quality beer and some of the standard snack mish-mash. For the $5 fee, it was an impressive spread of drinks, reminiscent of Special Ed's beer-meistering in the mid-00's back in Las Vegas.
I was talking with Afterbirth about the beer and the run fee and she said that they have been working extremely hard at keeping the fee at $5, with a pack in the mid-20's. Hoarding coupons for the local big liquor store Bev' Mo (think Lee's Discount Liquor), buying seasonals that are being clearanced and being creative with their selection has really paid off.
It was a nice change from the standard piss-beer (Bud, Miller, Coors, etc.) that I had seen at most U.S. hashes (reference Tiger for most S.E. Asian hashes). I wonder if we can pull together that kind of resourcefullness back at home. Have a couple cases of PBR/ML for the down-downs and lighter beer drinkers, then buy some true good stuff at cut-rate prices (already did some looking, you can get bottled beer for less than $1 a bottle if you are crafty) and beef up the Las Vegas stock.
Over this past weekend, SpEd and I drove through Death Valley to Ely, NV to help out a friend of his who was running the Concessons stand at Cave Lake for their Fire & Ice event. Snow/Ice carving competition with a hell of a fireworks display at the end of the last night. We even got put onto a 100 year old train with the governor and one of our senators for a night of over-drinking and watching them shoot fireworks from the moving train.
It was special, not only for being able to ride in an old coal-powered locomotive, but this is (at the event coordinator's best guess) the first time fireworks were ever fired from a moving locomotive. Well hey, that's pretty damn cool.
On Monday I drove into Las Vegas, roughly at 4:30 a.m.
After dropping Special Ed off at his house, I drove downtown to Fremont St. and walked around for a couple hours, ending up on top of the El Cortez parking garage watching the sun rise over the valley.
I guess that means I am officially home, but I may not do my return hash just yet. I was talking with my brother about driving out to California again this weekend to visit some family and I might throw in a couple hashes while I'm there. Who knows...
The world is wide open.

Stateside arrival

2009-01-21T09:34:00.000-08:00

A week ago yesterday I landed at LAX after an incredibly long series of flights to get back to the U.S. from Tokyo.
It turns out that flying straight to Los Angeles from Tokyo is incredibly expensive. Like two and a half grand expensive. However, by being creative with flight scheduling, I was able to tweak a significantly cheaper route by first flying to Kuala Lumpur, then switching flights entirely to take a separate airline back via Seoul, South Korea. It was nasty in terms of spending time on planes and at the airport. Here's a break-down.
Tokyo to Kuala Lumpur - 8 hours flying time (backing up over a time zone to boot)
6 hour layover at airport.
This wouldn't be so bad if the airport was closer to KL in general, but it takes roughly an hour to an hour and a half to take a bus in from the airport to the city. Couple that with having to go through security again, it just was a better idea to stay in the airport.
Kuala Lumpur to Seoul, South Korea - 8 hours flying time (back OVER the time zone)
8 hour layover in Seoul.
I did take the opportunity to explore the city this time. I took an hour bus ride into the historic downtown part of Seoul and walked around a bit, freezing my ass off in the 19 degree weather with just a long sleeve shirt and a windbreaker. I wanted to go into a temple or shrine, but they charged for admittance to everything, so I just took some pictures from the outside. Then I went into a local restaurant and ordered some Bugolgi and Kim Chi before taking the bus back to the airport to go through security again.
Seoul to Los Angeles - 10 hours flying time, crossing the international date-line.
So I spent roughly 40 hours straight in planes or airports. It was not pretty, but I saved roughly a grand in costs and actually got to check out a little bit of Seoul in the process.

I arrived at LAX at around 8:30 in the morning on the 13th and fellow Las Vegas hasher Special Ed picked me up in my WRX, so I could complete my trip driving in. With the assistance of one Shrimp Skanky in San Diego we were able to score a couch for the night as well as make it to that evenings hash with the...

Porter's Pub Hash House Harriers
Based out of the Porter's Pub in the center of UCSD, they did a fine job of laying an inner-campus trail A to A style that incorporated some mixes of mild shiggy and pavement. The group definitely contrasted the hipster mix of college kids and overall it was just a good fun time.
Trail was done differently from others that I have done though, with each check acting as a hold point. Basically you followed trail to the check, then waited there for the rest of the pack to catch up before moving on. Checks were frequent enough that you never waited for long and the addition of the RA(?) using quiz questions to determine who left when, kept things entertaining. It was almost like a hashing version of burst running training which I found to be a refreshing change from the standard trail style.
At the beer-stop I took my time and ended up falling behind the group. It was easy to follow trail, but I was using my ears more than eyes to try and shortcut a bit to catch up with the crowd and ended up passing them on trail by a fairly decent amount. Eventually they caught up and I rejoined them to the end at the pub.
Circle was low-key and fun with some high quality beer. There was no beer cooler though so you had to buy your own, but the first beer was discounted and the down-down beer was included. So if you want to drink more, find reasons to get charged more. I did!
After things wrapped up, Afterbirth gave Special Ed and I a heads up about the OC Hump Hash the next evening. One more hash to notch the belt before returning to L.V.

Finally Friday Fukov Hash House Harriers

2009-01-20T11:54:00.000-08:00

This post is a little over a week late, but when it came down to my last 48 hours in Japan, I decided it would be best spent going places and doing things instead of sitting in front of a computer typing up these posts.
There was almost a solid week in between my hash with the Sumo H3 and the F3H3 so I spent it traveling around Japan in a whirlwind self-tour.
On that Monday, the 5th I took a train down to Kyoto, arriving late into the night and finding probably the most local of hostels to stay in. There were no locking doors, only sliding panels, the tables were all sit on the floor style with a comforter attached which was warmed by a heater. The place had no showers, only toilets so I had to walk a block to the local bath house in order to bathe. You really don't get much more cultural than this! Even better, the extremely cheap 2000 Yen a night rate (in comparison my Tokyo hostel cost about 3600 and the capsule hotel was closer to 4000) included all you could drink local whiskey and rum from 9:30 until when the cartons and bottles were gone.
Tuesday I spent wandering around a couple of the 2000 or so temples around Kyoto and taking a train to nearby Mt. Inari where I hiked around for about 3 hours and had a bowl of Soba noodles at a path-side café.
Wednesday morning I took an early train to Hiroshima, arriving around noon. I dropped my bag off at the hostel and took the tram to Peace Park, the epicenter of the A-bomb blast. It was haunting and beautiful at the same time. I took the opportunity to visit the museum, take some pictures and ring Peace Bell. They say the total number of deaths related to the Hiroshima blast was around 200,000. Mostly women and children.
That night I tried the local flavor of Okonomiyaki, a nutritionally balanced sort of fast-food that the Japanese eat in places where it is easier to grow wheat than rice. It consists of batter, cabbage, pork, egg, onions, sprouts and Okonomiyaki sauce. Quite tasty!
On Thursday I jumped on a train back up towards Tokyo, making a stop at Himeji to see the castle there.
Something about Japanese castles just makes them appear so much cooler (to me) than their European counterparts. The way they appear to be segmented with wild flailing corners to their roofs. Couple that with blossoming sakura (cherry flower blossoms which I was unfortunate to be a couple months early for) and the sights are absolutely amazing.
Post castle I got back on the local trains toward Kyoto, where I switched to a high-speed bullet train to get back to Tokyo at a reasonable hour (7:00 p.m. vs. 11:30 p.m.) where they local trains would still be able to take me to my hostel in Asakusa.

Friday arrived with a tormental spell of bad weather. The wind was ripping and it was raining for most of the day. Cold was an understatement, but I didn't want to waste a day due to weather so I braved the storm and trudged down to the Pokémon Centre and then over to the Square Enix Store in order to get my geek fix in.
Post that I grabbed a bowl of noodles and then slid back to the hostel to change for that night's hash trail. Without long pants I would have to endure, so I slid on my running shorts, threw on a wicking shirt and long sleeve combo, then threw on my windbreaker which I had to hope would hold the horizontal rain at bay long enough for me to do trail. The worst part was my face though, which I combated the blistering cold with dual bandanas, going checkerboard ninja with my LVH3 bandana on my head and my Munich H3 bandana over my nose and mouth.
Trail was a short 3.5 miler, but felt much longer as we faced into the wind most of the time. Honor to the hare though as he actually laid a live trail, something I hadn't seen in a while.
Without an on-after to go to, we hunkered down under some stairs to protect ourselves from the elements during circle before a bored security guard kicked us away from the building. So, we walked 20 feet over to the sidewalk where an overwalk was creating a rain break and held circle there. It went fairly quick as Rapunzel went down the usual list. I got called out for only remembering the names of harriettes I met on previous Tokyo hashes (Pee Wee, Second Hand Job and Anchor Twat), and was given a patch to add to my collection. The hare was blamed for the weather (someone had to, and there was no RA!), then we all went our separate ways.
With my plane flight on the coming Monday, I took the opportunity over that weekend to finish up some personal goal loose ends in Tokyo, skipping the hashes as a result.
"What? Skip a hash? Never!" You may say, however I felt the following justified my absence.
Eating fresh sushi at the Fish Market in Tsujuki. It was the best sushi I have ever had in my life, even if I had to get up at 5 a.m. to get in line for it.
Watching Japanese Rockabilly clubs do dance battles in Harajuku with pompadours the size of small pick-ups.
Getting a spare pair of glasses. It turns out glasses in Japan are extremely cheap. Frames range from $45-$125 U.S.D. and they include both the lenses and an eye exam in the price.
Frame+Lenses+Eye Exam in the U.S. can add up to $200-$300 easily.
Checking out the electronics stores in Akihabara. If the DSi wasn't regionally coded, I would've picked one up.
Getting a full 6 course Fugu meal. Fugu is Japanese for pufferfish and it has one of the most potent neuro-toxins in its system. The Fugu chefs have to be specially licensed to fillet and serve the fish. My personal favorite was the fugu sashimi. Sliced so thin you can see the plate beneath through the fish.

Sumo Hash

2009-01-04T06:26:00.000-08:00

Wow, in the course of a week I have done 4 hashes. That's pretty impressive, eh?
I'm not so sure though, given as I had the opportunity to do 5 hashes.
That put aside though, I will be back in Tokyo on Friday the 9th and will regain my chance to hash with the F3H3 then. I am not concerned.
Today was the Sumo Hash and while I did trail I was quite late in arriving and simply had to carry my bag with me. Not a huge deal, but due to my camera I spent more time walking than running.
It was another hour and a half train ride, this time right out of Tokyo into Kawasaki. Yes, more of the non-city! Trail itself was an adventure from the train station all over the nearby area. Up into city parks atop large hills and wandering down the roads between houses. Since I was a half-hour late to start, I did trail alone and with most people gone for the holidays it was kind of Resident Evil-esque.
Having my gear with me, while it really kept me from running, offered me the unusual opportunity to take some pictures as well of Japan in the winter. Sorry, no snow (this isn't Las Vegas), but I made do.
It was a consummate 9k trail with a beer stop about half-way through... though trail honestly felt much longer. Maybe it was because I was walking most of the time, maybe because of the number of hills and stairs, but for the first time out here I felt like I was on a 12 or 13k trail. My hour and a half walking time damn near proved my point.
Though, when push came to shove, In Your Dreams laid quite well and except for one instance at the start of trail where it changed direction and wasn't marked, I found my way quite easily.
Kampai to all the pack who marked trail and even pointed out a couple short-cuts along the way in chalk.
Circle itself was pretty low key. We stood around in a small park, ate some typical hash snack food and drank local brew and Budweiser (what? Budweiser?).
I have most every hasher here hooked on adding "Viva Las Vegas!" as a tail-end of when I say where I am from which is pretty cool.
Went for haberdashery, but they didn't have any patches for Sumo. However, the haberdasher does now own a sewing machine that does embroidery, so I am doing my best to convince him that he should get a patch made for next weekend when I return before flying back to the U.S.A.
Still got a T-shirt though. It is very, blue.

Samurai Hash

2009-01-04T06:06:00.000-08:00

Hey look, Tokyo shiggy!
After missing the Finally Friday Fukov Hash House Harriers (F3H3 for short) due to the crowd at Sensoji temple moving at the speed of zombie, I planned ahead for the time-frame and only arrived 15 minutes late to the Saturday Samurai Hash way the hell out in Tokaichiba.
It was much further than I imagined, taking about an hour and a half on the train lines to get there. But I made it damnit, time to hash!
Fortunately the B-van hadn't left start yet, so I quickly threw on my shorts and tossed my bag in the back, jetting out on trail with a couple other late hashers from the Sunday Sumo Hash.
This was the furthest out from the center of the city that I have run trail in Tokyo, Japan so far, and it rewarded anyone on trail with a much more rural flavor of the area. Streams, bamboo forest trails along the surrounding hillsides and freshly fallen leaves. It was like an Asian version of some of the trails in Germany and I must say, barring the cold weather, I liked it!
It couldn't really be called true shiggy as nothing left pre-made paths, but at least it wasn't all on pavement and blacktop which was a blessing to my left knee.
Trail itself, did more of the expected twists and turns, taking the pack behind a lot of houses and through several parks and even a couple of fields before finally coming to a close at a small park about 8 or 10k later.
It was a much larger group this time as well, looking to number around 40 pack members. I saw a few familiar faces from the Tokyo H3 and the Tokyo Ladies, as well as a couple fellow visitors. One Joystick (mentioned in earlier posts) and a couple St. Louis Big Hump hashers, "Whack On - Whack Off" and "Pubic Head" (not the same Pubic Head as in the Philippines).
Circle itself started out quite well and the RA did a good job of keeping things rolling between calling out the hare, Khumming Rouge, and blasting people for various infractions. Though, near the end of things people's private parties kept things from operating as well as they should.
None the less, there was a naming!
It is the Samurai Hash tradition that you get a name after 6 trails. It doesn't matter if you have a hash name already, this is your Samurai Hash name. So, this harriette named "2nd Hand Job" was called into circle and given a few standardized questions before taking open questions from the encircled crowd.
There wasn't a whole lot to go on though, so I proposed the question of, "What is the square root of 69?"
No one... Not a single hasher could figure out the answer (including the namee).
It wasn't really a naming question, but it was honestly on par with the other questions given (do you like sex? where do you like sex? does Xanadu's nipple ring look sexy? etc.), so when the naming options were brought up, the one that stuck was "Rootu 69"
The considerations in this were that she likes trains and sex, hence getting rooted on track 69 or something along those lines. Funny name yes, but not a whole lot behind it. Oh well, not my hash.
Drink and food were at a Japanese style restaurant where I recall drinking a whole lot of fruity sobu and eating some delicous food of varying types before we all dispersed into the night. The newly named Rootu 69 helped me get on the right train back to Asakusa and that was that. Everyone had a great time, though we were not nearly as rambunctious as the Tokyo Hash on the prior Monday was.

Oh, the square root of 69 is 8 something.

New Year's Heave!

2009-01-04T05:31:00.001-08:00

Oh, the ladies of the night! What beautiful music they make!
Well, maybe... I guess it depends on the Count.
You see, the thing with the Tokyo Harriettes is, there weren't all that many harriettes on trail. I would say the male hashers outnumbered the females almost two to one. Travesty? Perhaps... Surprising? Yes!
One shant complain though when there is another twisty-curvy trail through the Tokyo subdistrict streets.
We started out this time at a quaint little Indian restaurant with the illustrious hares of Tidy Whitey and Spud Poker (again!?) spreading the New Year's cheer with chalk and flour.
Yes, this trail was an early set (around 1400) on the 31st of December, to ready the illustrious hashers for a full night of drinking, partying and debauchery.
It was also a slight pre-lube for the Samurai Hash actual New Year's trail where they started at 2300 and ran into 2009 in the most literal of ways (I didn't go to that one though, so that is my mention of it for this post).
Trail was a touch longer than Monday's Tokyo H3 trail, this time clocking in at a grand 10k. Nice, nice! It was more city running, more pavement pounding, but the hares did a great job (again) of keeping things interesting. Jettisoning the pack through small parks, over playground equipment and through the front area of a museum with loads of nude sculptures for daring hashers to pose with in defiling ways (no one is innocent at the hash, even statues!).
One harriette did a "riding" pose on a laying male statue, I fiercely grabbed a nude female statue that looked to be of age, but the top shot for the photo album (not mine as I didn't have my camera, but I hope it appears quite soon on hashspace!) was Anchor Twat poking her head between the legs of a statue of a young girl (13? 15?) in a dress and looking decidedly UP.
And then, as the picture was taken, Wee Willy Wanker decided to add in a bit of nipple licking on the statuette as well. OOOOOH, DIRTY MAN!
We all arrived at the On-In at a reasonable time after galloping through a couple of the bigger shrines where people were setting up their booths for the evening, and with the pack together in a reasonable fashion, we gave a few quick down-downs and then headed into the warm restaurant to continue circle and eat and drink ourselves merry.
Inside it was a smaller group this time as several hashers cut out to prep themselves for the Samurai hash later on.
Never the less, it was good food, a good (and loud!) circle and a great time. I got to chat with Slowy Gonzales a bit about Japan as it turns out he's a Puerto Rican who lives out here selling coffee beans to the local shops. He hooked me up with some Milk Thistle to help clean out my liver some too, which was very cool.
Afterwards, everyone set off to wherever they were going to celebrate the turn of the 00. I went back to the capsule in Shinjuku for a quick shower, then over to Shibuya where most of the "party" crowd had gathered.
Honestly, it was a touch anti-clamatic. Things were much more ordered and organized (and controlled) than Las Vegas, but with the same party vibe. It was almost a been there, done that feeling that I had.
No worries though, for Japan the New Year runs pretty much the entire week (with the 5th being a full on National holiday), so I still had the opportunity to celebrate properly over the next few days.

Oh-ah-oh-a-hashing in a-Tokyo!

2008-12-30T03:46:00.000-08:00

I arrived in Tokyo on Tuesday with that `illin feeling. Checking into my capsule hotel, I made it about a day before coming down with a full blown case of Montezuma's revenge. Would I let that stop me from missing the Tokyo Hash House Harriers trail? Nope!
After taking an hour to figure out the train system (most of everything isn't even subtitled in English), I arrived at the trail start with a good hour to kill before the listed start time. I took the opportunity to pop into a small noodle shop near the station exit and have some 'authentic' Japanese noodles & pork. I probably shouldn't be that impressed with something so standard here, but I am. Especially since I had to order by pointing at some Japanese characters on the menu next to a price. Not even a picture to go by!
After the meal I started looking for hashers... looking... looking... I ran into one hasher, visiting from Paris. I think his name was Wa Wa Wee (though I could be confusing that with the TV thing Wa Wa Wheee! in the Philippines as his name made me make an immediate connection). Neither of us could find any other hashers after scouring quite a large area by the exit of the station. Then, about 5 minutes to three, another hasher appeared. This time a Tokyo hasher who told us to start looking for arrows pointing towards trail start.
Cool, here's one!
We made it about 50 feet when we run into the hares. It turns out that trail was supposed to start at 7:15 p.m. They changed trail time but didn't update the website.
I spend the next few hours downtown in Ginza, walking around the streets and checking out a Nissan showroom. Even got to sit in the new GTR, roughly a 90k car, yum.

Returned to trail start around 6:30, following arrows this time to start location and ran into PeeWee who walked with me to start and introduced me to other hashers with names like Iku Iku (Japanese for I'm Cumming), Toto (a guy, not the harriette I met in Kiev), the hares Spud Poker and Tidy Whitey and others like Uranus, Khumming Rouge, King Cock, and more.
During trail I also ran into the illustrious Joystick, whom I first met at the Prague weekend and then again during the Munich Oktobeerfest hash. Small world eh? He is the third hasher that I've met multiple times without knowing he would be there. The others were Crazy German (now with the official Subic Bay name of Schindler's Butt Boy) and Copenhagen's own Swamp Thing.

Trail itself was a solid 8k through the backstreets of the Shinagawa district of Tokyo. Using the twisty, windy streets and a large number of both checks and back-checks, Spud was able to keep the pack together for a fairly large amount of the time. It was definitely chilly (the coldest I've seen on trail since Switzerland), but by using my bandana to keep my ears warm and keeping up a good running pace, I was able to ward off the cold until the On-In. We did a quick toast to the hares and then went into the restaurant we first met at to hold circle. Beer and food came in plenty and we ate and drank ourselves silly while having a riot of a time. The energy in the room was so infective that by the time we were halfway through circle, the other two full tables (we were in a group room with 2 other groups) started clapping along to our songs and down-downs.
Loads of fun, only interrupted when I had to make a quick and extended bathroom run (see first paragraph).

Today I was going to go to the Akamura district (electronics heaven), but ended up spending the entire day at the capsule hotel just recovering.
Tomorrow is New Year's Eve and the Tokyo Hash House Harriettes trail. Should prove to be fun if the TH3 was any indication!

Fucking Old Santa

2008-12-23T06:22:00.000-08:00

Monday, December 22, was the Subic Bay H3's own Santa trail. Much like the Angeles City H3's one the day prior, but a tad better organized. Most people had candy and for the ones who forgot to bring their own, or didn't know about the theme of the trail, they had candy for sale at the start.
The theme itself was giving. Let's give these kids a start on a merry X-mas and toss them candy while running through their neighborhoods.
Guess what else starts with the letter "G" ladies and gentlemen? Nope, not Gispert, but greed.
Holy fuck, it was like throwing raw meat into a sea of hungry sharks. Total feeding frenzy and sharing wasn't part of the programming.
It was a double edged sword in a lot of ways. I thoroughly enjoyed giving out candy to kids who are truly in need (squalor conditions in a lot of the places we went through), but when I had kids walking up to me for the umpteenth time on trail with candy overflowing out of their pockets or their shirts bundled up like kangaroo pouches saying, "give me more candy!" it really stung the spirit.
What was worse were the adults. You'd walk up to a little girl or boy and hand them a piece of candy with a "Merry Christmas!" attached and out of no where you'd see their parent or grandparent walk up with their hand out asking, "What about me?"
Fuck off, this is for the kids.
There was a kind of second dawn though as trail moved further and further from the start. You could tell which kids were following along stuffing anything into their pockets and you told them to go away so you could give candy to new kids. I also started to just hand out candy person-by-person. As the bag got lower, it went to kids who were too shy to ask for candy or too busy playing down a side alley to even notice the hashers were there. I think those are the ones who really enjoyed the sweets and I felt really good about seeing the smiles on their faces when out of the blue a few pieces of candy would drop from the sky in front of them.
Honestly, I had it easy though. Fucking Old Man donned a full fledged Santa outfit and trailed with an entourage of red hatted harriets to toss out candy to the massing kids. There were times when you'd be afraid he was going to get bowled over and torn apart by the youngins looking for more sweets.
Moment of the trail though has to go to fellow Las Vegas hasher Special Ed.
There was one kid who continually followed him for most of the trail asking for candy. As he grabbed more and more he started to form a pouch with his shirt. SpEd called him his 'little kangaroo.'
Finally, at the third drink stop, SpEd was running low on candy. There were a bunch of new children around him clamboring for treats and here comes the little kangaroo, pouch stuffed full, asking for more.
So SpEd goes to hand out a candy to kangaroo kid and when he reaches out for it, SpEd gives a quick tug on the top of the kids shirt and a ton of candy spills to the ground. SpEd quickly yells out to all the newer kids without candy, "Look! CANDY!" and in a flash greedy kangaroo kid lost his horde.
AWESOME.
Well, after trail we all gathered in Johannsan's Bar & Grill for circle and dinner. Fucking Old Man as Santa had some of the hashers children sit on his lap, then some of the harriets sit on his lap (Lucking Old Man). Charges were given, down-downs were drunk. I got to meet up with Swamp Thing one more time before he leaves to Phuket, Thailand and I move on to Japan (hopefully).
Lollipop Hemmrrhoid kept things moving quickly and pricisely as only a Chicago native can. The ice was used, the standard Ice Checks (from last Subic Hash post) continued unabated.
I think I've only got one more chance to hang out with these fine buggers, and if what I've been told is true, next weeks trail will be a doozy.
I guess the biggest bonus about hashing more than once with a chapter is that by time two or three, I can start remembering names along with the faces. Personal favorite of this evening was Kentucky Fried Fuckhead.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, so it may be a span before I get to post again. If anyone knows where I can get a cheap flight to Japan (in the $300-50 range), please let me know!

Update on Cebu Pacific debacle:
Through the graces of spending a day in Manila, I was able to finally walk up to a ticket desk and cancel the flight. The downside is a $25 processing fee that I'll have to swallow, but I'm just glad to get it over with. For what it's worth though, they can still suck a salty left nut. That's my warning to any hashers going to Borneo for 2010 Interhash. I'm just saying.

Lost in Angeles

2008-12-21T20:57:00.001-08:00

Yesterday marked my second Philippine hash with the Angeles City H3. With a goofy caribou as their mascot and the Anchorage as their official home, I have heard a lot of promise about how grand these chaps are.
Well, yes and no. I have a feeling that the trail I was on yesterday is not the typical for these hardcore hashers.
If you haven't been paying attention to the calendar lately, it's nearing Christmas. The Philippine Islands are absolutely HUGE on the holiday, celebrating it for the length of time usually relegated to department stores in the U.S. This being the case, most of the hashes out here are holding Santa-style trails where they travel through the local neighborhoods and toss candy out to the kids.
Angeles City H3 held just such a trail, but somewhere along the lines of the idea, not everyone knew what was going on. So it turned into a fairly flat, street trail with a lot of walking and only about five people were throwing candy. I had no idea this was going on, so I showed up with nothing to give to the kids. It was trail only for me.
That being said, trail wasn't really laid for visitors. There was a runner/walker split, but the runner trail had zero markings (save for a couple from trails past that hadn't washed away yet). So, about a third of the way through the runners trail, I ended up having to find a group of local hashers to figure out trail with. It was all a bit off unfortunately and hopefully (assuming) I can attend one more of their hashes before moving onward, I will have a vastly different experience.
On the other hand, circle was quite fun. For a bunch of crusty 'ol men (I mean that in the most light-hearted of ways), they cornered the market on the dry British style of witty humour and kept the pack's eyes glued to the center. All without the use of ice that I've become so familiar with around Southeast Asia.
Outside of being a visitor and 1 (count it... ONE!) broken bottle, I kept fairly low key compared to lately except for one glaring exception.
During the singing of "Royal Brittania" I outvoiced (for better or worse) all participants, then got called in for being the damn typical Yank (with the same light-heartedness I mentioned earlier).
I took my down-down with pride and after they closed circle a little bit later, we all went into the Anchorage to chow down on a grand meal that a birdie told me was paid for by one Titanic Dickhead. Hey, what a great guy feeding the hash, kind of a little early X-mas gift for the Angeles City H3.
Other things of note, I got to run into some traveling hashers from Copenhagen, Swamp Thing and Thunderpiss. The original "black dick" brothers, named so because they like to go to certain places and do certain things until their foreskins go black and fall off (was that crude?).
That's the 4th time I've run into Swamp Thing, the first being in Copenhagen returning their mascot Kylie to the CH3 and again in Sukothai, Thailand for Mekong Indochina 2008 and the third stop being in Hong Kong at their Santa Hash.
May traveling hashers unite!

From the Cradle to the Grave

2008-12-19T05:55:00.000-08:00

This post has two parts. The first is me talking about the shitty airline (Cebu Pacific) that I took a flight over from Hong Kong to Philippines on.
If you would rather not read about me bitching and moaning, skip to part 2 and read about my first hash in the Philippines with Subic Bay H3!
So I have my ticket to Clark Airport, which is near Subic Bay, Philippines. I booked it online in Macau. No problem, right? Wrong!
I arrive at the airport. There's roughly an hour fifteen before the flight leaves. I get to the check in desk and it is overrun with passengers for the flight after mine. Apparently Cebu Pacific decided that they would start taking in all passengers for all flights at the same desk at the same time. I wait for twenty minutes before one guy who works the desk asks which flight I am on, and tells me to jump to the front of the line. Here I thought everyone was on the same flight as I was and they were just backed up...
Then, I get to the check-in counter and they tell me that I can't board the plane without a return flight. Well, I don't want to go back to Hong Kong. They tell me I need printed proof of a return ticket or I won't get past immigration in Philippines. I said I don't, I have an American passport and I'm good for a 21 day visa upon arrival.
They refuse to give me my boarding pass, send me to the other side of the check-in building to buy a return ticket. Ok, fine you bastards. I'll buy the ticket and cancel it for a refund when I get there.
Not so simple.
It seems that I need to cancel the ticket in Manila, which is a four hour drive from where I'm staying in Philippines. This is complete bullshit.
I now have a $210 charge on my credit card for a ticket I don't want and am pretty sure I don't need.
I sprint for the terminal, speed through security (fortunately it's lax since I'm in Asia) and get to the plane 5 minutes before take-off. There are still 6 people behind me who are going through whatever bullshit Cebu Pacific put them through (this includes one German guy who has a ticket to someplace else but Cebu tells him he needs a return flight).
The airplane is dirty. Floss pik on the floor under my seat, someone's cracker crumbs and what looks like grated cheese on the seat next to mine... Then in the middle of the flight they announce a Christmas carol contest.
I want to stab people.
The plane arrives, of course I don't need any printed proof of a return flight. They lied to me and forced me to buy a ticket I didn't need and will have a difficult time getting a refund on.
I call my bank to stop the charge, they can't file dispute until the charge goes though, just effin' great...
I get online to Cebu's website, I try to cancel the flight for refund, I can't because the ticket wasn't purchased online. I call the airline number on the website, they won't cancel the flight because I bought it in the terminal.
I ask for the phone number to the place I need to cancel it at in Manila (to see if I can do it over the phone) and the line drops on their side.
I call back and the line drops again half-way through getting the phone number.
So now I'm stuck with an over $200 charge on my card and very little recourse in fixing the problem save wait until the charge is filed on my CC statement (it's currently pending) and then file a dispute with Bank of America to try and get my money back.
Not happy.

Ok, on to PART TWO

I arrive in Clark airport and get picked up by Special Ed, we go to his place in Barrio Barretto (sp?), drop my bags, I change and we jet to the hash which starts every week at a bar roughly 5 minutes from his place. Introductions are made, I purchase a couple patches and order a beer. I'm the youngest guy by far, but as I've mentioned before the hash is ageless.
We all (roughly 25) jump in the back of a large pick-up style truck and get lifted to the start somewhere down the way (I haven't figured out direction in this place yet).
When we do take off, it's straight up a hill and through a squatters backyard. We crest on the ridge and do a straight shot along the ridgeline before dropping down to the top of a cemetery.
Now, let me tell you something about cemetery's in the Philippines. They are above ground tombs that are randomly clustered on a hillside. There are walls separating the tombs (sometimes) and the occasional path snaking down. These paths are not for certain and do not lead to every tomb. There is nothing in the way of sense of order or design, they just throw them up as they go along.
So we're hashing down this cemetery and at points all you can do is hop from wall to tomb to ground to tomb, etc.
I'm doing my little free-running bit, really enjoying the exercise of finding the right spot to land and picking where to go next. I'm a touch off trail, but Special Ed is with me and we're heading in the right general direction (we're also hardcore FRB's at this point).
That's when it happens. I'm jumping from the top of one tomb to the next and when I land the portion directly under my feet caves in and I fall in up to my waist with a loud, "Ow."
I pull myself out, SpEd's taking a picture of my debacle while saying, "See, that's why I was staying on the walls. I understand the quality level of workmanship in the Philippines."
Oh, thanks for telling me that NOW!
I am understandably cautious and find the remaining descent from the cemetary to be a bit more precarious. We finally get to the bottom and trail moves down past a lighthouse and along the beach.
When trail was set, the water was at low tide, it's now rising and we begin to reach points where you can no longer follow trail while keeping your shoes dry. It goes along the beach for a good long while, following the coastline before jumping back up to the main road and then cutting over to the On-In, Arizona Bar & Grill.
While waiting for the majority of pack to arrive, I clean off my bloody leg (crashing through poor concrete tends to do a number on the shins) and bandage it before grabbing a beer. It was a good 9k or so trail and given the rampant zombie attack, I can say my arrival to Philippines hashing was a success!
Circle of course consisted of a return to block ice and some great tales from the trail. GM Roadwhore did a splendid job punishing rank offenders while Lollipop Hemorrhoid kept private conversation in the small group to a minimum. With Cujo at the singing helm (including a number of numbers I've never heard before!), circle was great.
The major difference here is the ice check. Keeping in mind that hashers here tend to be older with much younger Philippine girlfriends, they tend to celebrate this fact.
After a down-down is given on the ice (and particulary for the females), when the person gets up, their significant other will lick the ice block those bare behinds have been on.
Being without attachment, I was spared participation in this event.
Now, during circle they have a raffle. People can bring in small items of whatever value and then purchase raffle tickets for a fairly cheap price before circle. These are then raffled off with the money going to the hash. The items aren't typically much, but there is a coveted tequila shot prize, where one of the bar girls puts lime on one nipple and then salt on the other. I think you can figure out the rest of that sequence.
This time another girl won that prize, which made for a very intriguing spectacle of girl on girl nipple sucking which for all accounts was pretty damn cool.
On-On PI

On-On Macau, Sir Cunter! On-On Hong Kong!

2008-12-18T23:36:00.000-08:00

A few years ago, a Las Vegas Hasher named Cunter Ass Thompson left the fair (sin) city for Macau in order to work for MGM and in the process get a bit of world experience under his belt.
Cunter as I've known him is a great guy and absolutely awesome hasher, so when my travels got me to Asia, I made a point to get up north towards Hong Kong and visit him in Macau.
Meanwhile, in Subic Bay, Philippines, another Vegas hasher by the name of Special Ed was taking a month-long break.
With such a close proximity of hashers, how could we not both travel up to Macau and visit Cunter, a reuniting of Las Vegas H3 half a world away!
I got to Macau a couple days before Special Ed did and spent the majority of the time (Cunter was at work) hiking around the fairly small island, going from casino to casino, going up Guia Hill to the lighthouse on the top.
The really neat thing about Macau is that much of the island is reclaimed land from the sea. They've built it up years at a time, taking dirt from nearby mountains and dropping it into the water, waiting for it to settle and repeating the process until there was enough solid land to build on. The hilarious result of this is that the lighthouse is now 1/3 of the way into the island, rendering its light a tad bit useless as the shoreline is now quite a ways from where it was when the lighthouse was built.
It still operates though, shining its bright warning into the rooms of high-rise apartment dwellers and corporate offices!

My first hash in this trifecta (you can hash every day of the week between Macau and Hong Kong) was with the Hong Kong Friday Night Hash. A baby of a hash with a monthly trail.
It was my first real introduction to Hong Kong stairs as well. Holy bleedin' robot in a hand basket, this thing was brutal! I suppose I shouldn't complain too much though, the trail itself was actually well laid out with F arrow marks, even if they were spaced a tad too far apart at times.
Starting at the Tin Hau Temple, we went up and up and up the city of Hong Kong. I can only imaging counting the steps we climbed, but didn't for fear of losing my sanity. It was hardcore brutal and I can only imagine the great shape my legs would be in (and the shitty shape my knees would be in) if I did that kind of thing every day.
Not that there wasn't a pay-off though. Once we got far enough up and out of the city we were on wonderful trails that ran alongside the surrounding hills. Barring any cresting or ridge-running, we were still extremely high up, high enough that you could look across the city of Hong Kong and if you had the eyes of an eagle (and the hairy ass of a crow), see into the top floors of any of their high-rises. Those steps were a lesson in the pleasures of pain.
The way down was much more gentle, until we came to more steps. Much like the ones on the way up, these bastards came in groups by the hundred and were sized for Asian feet. I had solid fear for misstepping in the darkness of night and rolling down several flights. It didn't happen, but it sure as hell crossed my mind!
Once on solid, flat ground again we worked out way around to the Yaht Club where we slipped into their shower room and cleaned off before rejoining out in the parking lot for down-downs and moving on to the On-After bar called the Englishman's Pub for frosty brews and a chance meeting with Melvis, the Chinese Elvis! Yes, photo-op!

Day two brought more hashing, only this time in the fine location of Taipa, an island ajoined to Macau via three long bridges. Taipa-Macau are pretty much the same place and don't distinguish themselves as separate from each other other than the island names.
The Taipa-Macau H3 is Cunter's home hash in the area and is smack dab full of fun.
Generally they use the same hills because the island is so small and hugely developed, so locals knew the place well, but as a visitor it was new and I was giddy to get going on trail.
Oh fuck, stairs.
I have a new found hatred for stairs.
Once we got past that initial obstacle, it was a short jaunt along a road until we entered a walking park of sorts near the top of the hill. I was doing quite well in everything but my knees. The concrete of Hong Kong the day prior combined with the incredibly immense amount of stairs had whalloped me. I slowed down and felt pretty unsure on a couple patches of downhill shiggy. Once I hit flat ground again I could continue running until the big long downhill road where my knees just weren't up to it.
The trail went past a large Chinese cemetery (a shame I don't have a trail specific camera) and wound its way back down to the stilted apartments fairly close to start.
As I was coming along the last bit of trail a hand pats my shoulder. It's Special Ed and he wanted me to tell everyone reading this blog that an AARP member caught up to me on trail.
Circle itself was full of fervor. With Cunter's help they've learned a lot of great hash songs and their GM (I'm just going to call her Robert Paulson for now) kept a pretty strict, but fun circle.
Oh, the Robert Paulson thing. She called me into circle, pointed to a hasher and asked me what his name was. I couldn't recall his hash name so I simply replied, "His name is Robert Paulson." (a quote from the movie Fight Club).
Boom, I was given a down-down.
She pointed at someone else whose name I couldn't remember, I replied, "His name is Robert Paulson."
Boom, another down-down.
Well two is absent-mindedness, three is a joke, so this time she pointed at Nancy Boy, a hasher whom I did remember the name and it was fairly well known. I responded, "His name is Robert Paulson."
Laughs ensued, another down-down.
She said, "Look, I'll make it easy for you. What's my name? (she had a hash style necklace on with her hash name on it.)
"Your name is Robert Paulson."
By now other hashers were joining in. It was pretty damn funny.
The down-side was we needed to leave early as Special Ed's flight back to the Philippines was scheduled for Saturday, Dec. 14th. (Get out your calendars boys and girls, look at that date a little closer and tell me what's wrong!)
Oh, by the way, don't ever fly Cebu Pacific Airlines. They operate like a cluster-fuck of people with a missing chromosome. I'll get into that next post though as I had my own issues with them going to the Philippines.

The third day of hashing with Cunter brought us back to Hong Kong for their annual Santa Hash. Here is an excerpt from their website www.santahash.com
"Each year all of the Hong Kong based Hash House Harrier clubs, or kennels, now numbering 12, organise a joint Hash to raise money for Operation Santa Claus organised by the South China Morning Post (SCMP) and Radio Television Hong Kong (RTHK)."
Trail this time started in a small park near Quarry Bay. It was a little less drastic than the previous days, but again those steps! We shot straight up and through what looked like someone's apartment building, squeezing into single file to fit into the narrow staircase. Once up we got onto one of the surrounding hillsides, enjoying amazing daytime views of the city and harbor as well as having some well trodden footpaths to run along. One of the coolest things we passed were some old WW2 kitchens that the Japanese had set-up but never used. Just row after row of brick and mortar ovens.
Things were looking familiar though and I figured out that we were hashing in the same area that trail was on Friday night! We spent more time up in the hills though and covered a wider distance overall.
The hare for Taipa-Macau (can't remember his name, if anyone reading knows I can edit it in later!) also hared for the Santa Hash and just did an excellent job in having a well marked and easily read trail with extremely clever spots for checks.
Coming into circle, it was a good 10k trail that felt more like 7. I have always felt that the sign of a well laid trail is that it feels shorter than it is. Bonus to the hare!
Circle itself was large and interspersed with a raffle, drawn out a bit. Especially since they took a while to get started. Since Special Ed's flight was coming close, him, Cunter and I had to jet early.
The poor caterer. A wonderful guy who saw we were leaving looked heartbroken and distraught that we wouldn't be able to enjoy his food (which he was just finishing setting up at the time).
We gave our apologies and he put together a little bit of a to-go meal for us which was extremely kind.
After dropping Special Ed off for his flight (for the second time...), Cunter and I went to a local Thai restaurant near the Irish Bar (official bar for the Taipa-Macau hash and a sponsor for all their shirts!), enjoyed some Tom Yum Fun soup and chatted a bit, playing catch up that was waylayed by the business of the week and hash. Post that I decided to play visitor and dropped a couple hundred Hong Kong dollars (roughly $20 U.S.) into a machine. The first one didn't pay off, but the second one pumped out almost 700HKD!
In typical tourist fashion though, I didn't pay out and the casino ate all my winnings. Hey, no heavy loss and I had a little bit of fun.

I must say, the casinos in Macau are a big step up from the ones in Las Vegas. They really cater to the high roller and wealthy visitor in terms of tables. Slots are really low key and the customers of the casino lack the "typical Las Vegas tourist" look and level of obnoxioiusness.
It was grand seeing you Cunter! Do try to make it back to Las Vegas again sometime soon!

Mother Hash 70th Anniversary Bash

2008-12-17T18:39:00.000-08:00

Ok fine followers of hash-land. I sincerely apologize for a big lack of updates. To date I am 5 behind.
Do I have an unwarranted, half-assed excuse? Sure I do! My cell phone (most of my updates are done via my cell phone and internet accessed on it) is bricked. Something happened somewhere alone the way (first day in Philippines) where half the keys don't work, and the phone would do strange things on its own as if it was possessed. When I tried to reset it to factory settings, the whole thing bricked. The touch screen doesn't even work now. Ghastly, I know.
Anyways, I am currently sitting in one Special Ed's upstairs lounge in Barrio Barretto, Subic Bay, Philippines and he has a laptop, so my discourse on the biology of rodent mammals can continue unabated (at least until I move on).
Two weekends ago (Sunday, Dec. 7th to be exact) I was fortunate enough to attend the Hash House Harriers (also known as the Mother Hash) 70th Anniversary trail and party.
Getting picked up for trail by one of the organizers was a bit of a snafu though as I was waiting at a bus stop by Petaling St. on the wrong side of Kuala Lumpur's main post office. I made poor Opera wait an extra 20 minutes as I figured out where I was vs. where he was then made a mad dash sprint to the other side of the building complex (which is fairly large).
Getting there early did help in one thing though, I could rego on the spot without wading through masses of people and got my goodie bag early on. The contents of which were basic, a Mother Hash 70th polo shirt and a Hash House Harriers 70th Anniversary Celebration Run magazine, chock full of hash history and tales from the trail.
Now, I know we're all accustomed to hash names (well, if you've been following the blog, I'm sure you are), but Mother Hash does it a little differently. They don't have "hash names" they really just use their own names. Occasionally a nickname will pop up along the way (G, Ah Pek and Dynamite for example), but that is fairly seldom. I guess that will make this post slightly less interesting (or not, your call).
As the first couple hours past prior to trail start the area started to flood with hashers. We were in the bottom of a rock quarry a couple clicks from a main road and off the beaten path enough that our idiocy would be endured by whatever local population might be in earshot.
Then it started to rain and the place started to just flood.
Hashers were jumping puddles, huddling under tents and jib-jabbering away about exactly how wet this trail was going to be when things finally kicked off. If not drenched by the rain, the folly would be mud. This was compounded when stories started to leak forth of a hasher "Jungle" Tom Besar who was lost overnight the last time they laid trail in this location. In fact, there was a full recount of his disappearance in the 70th Anniversary magazine that everyone was reading at some point while waiting for the rain to disperse and/or trail to start.
Apparantly he started trail extremely late, made a mad dash to catch up and fell off the side of the hill... twice.
Now decently injured and a touch off trail in the pitch dark of the jungle night, Jungle Tom felt it would be best to hole up until day break and then work his way out of his predicament. With no mobile on his person, Tom started looking for paper again the next day and eventually got out of the bush and into a clearing, then with the help of some good samaritans, was able to reach a main road and make a call to get picked up by the missus. He was out on trail for roughly 21 hours.
So yeah, we're holding trail in the same place Tom got lost in, it's no longer raining, but the ground is muddy and wet.
I'm not sure everyone reading this knows what freshly rained on jungle is like, but slippery is an understatement. The ground is thick slimy mud that cakes on your shoes and removes any semblance of grip you thought you might have had. A properly prepared hasher would be wearing soccer cleats and even then, it might not do any good.
So trail kicked off. I made the most of a decent uphill slope climb to work my way up with the FRB's with the plan of if I got tired, I could slow down, let others overtake me and end up smack-dab near the middle.
This strategy worked out exceedingly well for a while, until a massive circle jerk near the top of the first big hill sent me fairly far back in the group.
This was also the last bit of sane land we hashed on as it went from following wet and muddy hillside footpaths to just wet and muddy hillside. But who needs grip anyways, you can just slide around and use trees to control the movement. Oops, that one has thorns... I'll just grab that other one... ouch, that one too. Ah fuck, now I'll just have to manuver this without grabbing onto anything. Or sliding into any of those thorn trees. Yay!
After cresting the second large hill in a switch-back fashion, the down part was pretty simple. Go down.
Without anything sensible to grab on to and my shoes now caked with mud, I was running out of options though. I decided to just balls out go for it and picked the cleanest path down I could find.
Then I took that mis-step that I tend to do in these situations which left me sliding, then spinning, then sliding headfirst on my back down this fairly steep muddy hill.
I think I went down a good 20 feet when I reached out and grabbed a nearby tree root, spinning myself back around so I could just slide down the last 5 or so feet and step off the hill onto the service road winding its way around the mountain.
With my backside completely covered in mud, I kept on trail for a little while until a passing stream gave me the opportunity to lie down and do a half-assed job of rinsing myself off. Well, at least I got most of the mud out of my shorts.
With the most difficult portion of trail over, we followed the service road to a lakeside path where trail followed the leading edge of the water for another couple of kilometers (trail was supposedly 15k, though it felt closer to 12 or 13) getting pictures taken by the hash flash and arriving at a previously unknown (and much needed) water stop. There the hashers monitoring the stop said it was only 3k more back to the start and the On-In.
I jogged this little bit, catching up to a lot of the hashers who passed me long ago in the jungle. It was a great warm-down from the exertion of navigating the hill.
Once On-In they opened up the water trucks, two giant tankers with water in them spraying from random pipes. Everyone took the opportunity to get a much needed shower after trail, drying off and putting on a fresh change of clothes.
The food was brought out in all its deliciousness. Curry, noodles, rice, curry, noodles and curry.
They also brought out the beer made specially for the occasion.
You see, Tiger Beer is kind of the official beer of the Mother Hash. It's been in the Mother Hash since its inception in 1938. Only then it was known by the label Malaysian Breweries Ltd.
Working with the Hash Heritage Foundation (working to rebuild the Hash House where the original Harriers lived and started the Hash), Tiger brewed one batch of Tiger Beer using the original labeling and ingredients that were used back in 1938.
The back label states, "A special reproduction of the vintage Tiger Beer as consumed by the founders and early members of the Hash House Harriers, at its inception in the Hash House in Kuala Lumpur, in 1938 and in the ensuing runs before WW2"
Wankers and diddlers, this is a new level of cool!
As the food wrapped up, we all gathered our seats near the stage where Edwin Ho, the On-Sec (taking the combined role of GM and RA positions that most hashes have) and another hasher (whose name I cannot recall) gave out various down-downs either in honor of individuals that helped put the event together or random charges for such offenses as new shoes and Freudian slips of whatever fashion.
When the charges were all said and done, the man in charge of the stage brought out a group that he simply called, "the unmentionables" a singer and four background dancers.
The ladies did an admirable job with the slightly un-energetic group (what were they expecting, strippers? Probably...), until the singer of the group started little games requiring audience participation to liven things up.
Me being me, of course I got up on stage. Other top notch joiners-in were Wild Wolf/Propo from the Wolfpack hash in the Philippines and TRTL Cock (This Ride Tastes Like Cock) from San Louis Obispo, California. Yes, when it came to actual partying, the visitors outshone the locals. It was a little brass, but those were hard working gals trying to entertain us, it's only fair to help out!
So, the five little competitions were a dancing competition, an air-band style competition, the "swing the carrot hanging between your legs to move the potato on the ground from start to finish race" and "background dancer" thing.
After the girls left, Wild Wolf started a little circle of his own which I joined in and we continued the silliness fairly late into the night before I caught a ride back to the guest house to prepare for my next stop.

Lion City H3, Singapore

2008-12-05T10:41:00.000-08:00

My personal prelube to the Mother Hash's 70th (can you tell I'm a tad excited about this?), I re-attended the Singapore Lion City H3 with full intent to do a complete trail and not just futz around on a bus the whole time to catch the tail end and trail.
Thanks to my hosts, The Velcros, I achieved success! Arriving in time for the start of a classy birthday run by Bully who turn s/ed the immaculate age of 69 at some point in time in the calendar on or around the specific day of the hash.
Still stinging from the level: inferno sunburn that was the result of my kayaking adventure in Bintan, I absolved to suck it up (what else was I to do? Bitch? Moan? Get back in the kitchen? Hardly!) and take trail on with the full ferocity (drunkeness?) of Alcoholiday!
Trail itself was a debacle on its own though as some clever T stops (remember: backchecks) kept the pack in slight disarray early on. Being the intelligent bastards that we are though, we sorted it out and got moving in a rather disorderly fashion (this is the hash, after all) on-on trail.
Somewhere along the way I ran across Cock Radio who said, "Haven't we gotten rid of you yet?" to which I replied with a solid, "I'm like tartar, you just haven't brushed enough."
Ummm... it sounded better in my head (Who said head?).
Anyways, I balanced myself between running, climbing, jogging and jabbering with another hasher about scuba diving (seriously, what?), then running again until we all arrived on the back end of this restaurant complex and lost paper.
Paper, what paper? We searched in vain for a good 13 or 14 minutes with no luck. At that point, hashers which knew their way around the area started to say, "eff this, we're just shortcutting back to start." (There is a benefit to A to A hashing in this aspect, though I don't think A to B exists in Asia to begin with)
I followed the thin line of hashers heading back to the main road, where about half a mile down was bloody trail!
Turns out there was a fence of some sort that had a gap at the bottom. The hare expected the pack to realize this and dodge under it. Now, back in the U.S.A. we're used to this sort of thing. But we're in Asia, and no one thought to look that way. Oh bother, tough shit, we're at the On-In now anyway!
Before circle itself kicked in, the pack slowly made its way to the pool area for some impromptu swimming. I tried suggesting possibly having circle in the pool itself, but was informed that the already fresh and dressed Grand Matress probably wouldn't budge on that mark. I didn't bother trying anymore (hey, not my hash).
Circle itself was held outside under constant threat of rain and in which the usual primordial charges were held. Hares, returnees, visitors, those with acid reflux, etc.
It was all good fun, but I fear that the constant use of the same two or three songs over and over again is going to stunt me in terms of returning to U.S. hashing in the coming month/s. Nevertheless, I was entertained by the accompaniment of hasher San, a Malaysian gal who usually does Bike Hashes and what-not. In fact, I'm supposed to e-mail her this link (hello, San! Look, you're mentioned!) Umm... hopefully that doesn't put her off e-mailing me back.
Dinner itself was grand, for his 69th, Bully put on an extravagant buffet of salad, noodles, au gratin, salmon, turkey and stuffing. For an American boy like me who just missed Thanksgiving, this was an absolute stunner. I ate and drank well that night with absolutely great company. For a final hash in the Singapore portion of this trip, I don't think I could've recieved better.
After the food was gone, the Velcros and I, accompanied by Cock Radio piled into their VW, dropping Cock Radio off before coming home. They broke open a bottle of champagne to send me off (how thoughtful, eh!?) and well, now they're asleep and I'm typing this. Tomorrow they're taking me to the Golden Mile where I'm getting my bus to Kuala Lumpur, positively snazzy! (I just typed that...)

Oh, and I was commented that I should leave more pics with my posts. For the most part I'm blogging by phone (I have one of those fancy ones with a qwerty pad), so it's not really feasible. When I get back though, I do hope to go through my photos and add one for all my posts (assuming I have one relevant).
I've got about two thousand though, so it may take some time to sort the crap from the utter crap.

Bintan Break after 4

2008-12-04T23:09:00.000-08:00

The past three days I was on the Indonesian island of Bintan, drinking three times my room cost in beer and eating freshly caught squid.
I ocean kayaked to the nearest island "White Sands" getting fried like a fritatta in the process and spent my time just chilling out and relaxing.
The one thing I didn't do in Indonesia was hash. Which is a tad bit strange as some of the more major Indonesian islands have more hashes per square meter than anywhere else in the worlds. I've heard stories of Medan, where all the hashes line up on the side of the road and you can pick which group you're going to run trail with that day. It's insane!
I didn't do that. You see, I decided that after the past 7 months of bouncing around, going to trail runs and having no particular solid place to stay for the length of a day, I needed a vacation. That's right, a vacation from the trip.
Following four extremely busy days of cramped backpacker hostels and jetting around from hash to hash, I needed a break before continuing on. (Thankfully, the Velcros -Slow Cum and Jack Off- were kind enough to put me up for a couple days while I sorted the Indonesia travel plan thing, and again -now- as I prep to jump back up to KL for the Mother Hash anniversary)
So, the majority of my time in Singapore has been spent going to hashes. You can hash every day of the week here, so I put my time to good use.
First off was last Wednesday with the Singapore Harriets, reputedly the oldest hash chapter in the world, starting in 1973.
It was the wives of a bunch of hashers who were bored while their husbands were off gallavanting around the jungle, so they set up a meeting spot, held a run of their own and a H3 chapter was born!
Back in the original days it was a true Female only hash, if any male wanted to run trail with them, they had to be invited by a harriet, then placed in front of a commitee who would determine if they were allowed to attend the actual hash. Insane, yes, but not all that far from what a lot of Men's hash chapters do.
Now, of course, the Singapore Harriets are much more democratic in letting men join in on their fun. The one standing rule is that at all points in time a Harriet has to be leading the pack. If a man (for any reason) is leading the hash they will get charged at the On-In and be sentenced to having lip stick placed on them (usually via a kiss from Original -one of the original Harriets- on the lips) which they have to wear to the On-On-On.
Trail that night was (in comparison to a lot of what I've run in Asia) fairly even soiled. Mostly on bridges and roads with some grand detours across grassy fields and a couple walking trails in, on and around a large hill and the surrounding forests. It was roughly 10k, which is long for a lot of the trails I have done recently, but given as there was much less jungle treking, it was perfectly fine and cleverly placed T-stops (similar to back checks) kept the pack fairly together.
However, the humidity made things almost unreasonably hot, and upon arrival in circle I saw the ice water the drinks were placed in and dipped my face in to cool it off. Oops, faux pa on my part. Charge!
Ummm, "charge" is what they call accusations when they give out down-downs.
As I didn't have a shirt change and I was soaking from the trail, I took my shirt off (ooh la-la?) and laid it out to dry during circle, whereupon I was called out for not wearing a shirt. Ummm, oops?
It later turns out I was just being given shit for whatever reason. I took it in stride and resolved to bring an extra hash shirt next time I did trail.
I sang songs, which didn't go over as well as in prior hashes (to each their own?), but it seemed secretly a lot of harriets liked hearing something different but figure no one would go for it if they didn't know the lyrics. Someone get these girls a songmeister!
The on-after was at a fairly famous restaurant (name of which I cannot clearly recall) and consisted of fish and chips.
Fun moments on trail included asking Jack Off what "this is?" holding up a type of flower and getting the response of... "A flower."
I was more intelligent the next time around, simply stating, "I know what that is! A car!" while pointing at things.
Taking a quick wash behind the beer van with Goody Bags (a Harriet with a body 25 years younger than her actual age), who was changing her panties (under a sarong) for the second time and when I asked why she said the other ones were for the daytime (?) or something like that. She then offered them to me, at which point I simply said, "No thanks, their lace and I don't think the see-through effect would go over well."
Pure, comedy... gold!
The next day was the Thirsdae Hash, a more local group who held their trail out by the Nature Preserve, which also houses the largest hill in all of Singapore.
Oh joy, more hills!
I arrived in time to introduce myself to a number of their number, and with enough time to change into my shirts before trail started.
Beginning with a nice bit of road going into the preserve it quickly veered off into the jungle, shortcutting over onto a set of mountain biking trails.
Trail itself was fairly long, measuring in at the 8k range, but kept mainly to the trails so it went by quickly for the most part. Except for a few sections where we took around 500 steps UP UP UP to the top of the hill in sequence with jaunting around the sides and down a few sections.
Now, I've been a fairly good runner at the hashes, but generally the locals have the advantage on hill-territory because they know the lay of the land and are more used to the humidity.
This was the first time since Switzerland (that I recall without re-reading my prior posts) in which I was FRB. It almost wasn't so though as the steps up to the top of the hill brutalized me and it took me a touch longer to reach the top than other hashers.
Somehow though, I was able to sniff out trail a bit quicker at a check and with no more uphill to go, blazed on through to the road, which was a long, winding section down to where we started.
A very good trail with a nice circle afterwards. Ice was a welcome friend that I had last seen in Kuala Lumpur, and they sat me down on it to introduce myself before they lined up and introduced themselves one-by-one.
Afterwards I was asked to recall 5 of their names. Fortunately I was warned about this by a harriet named "Bring More" and was aptly prepared.
The On-After was at a local Korean restaurant and was the "everyone take some from the same platter" style. The Singaporeans were impressed at my willingness to try bits of every food (dried fish, whole, kim chee, etc.) as I suppose most westerners are a little wary of food that looks back at them.
I looked at the bus schedule and skipped the bar afterwards to make sure I didn't miss my bus back to my guest house in Chinatown and got home roughly midnight-ish. Just in time to catch the last sidewalk food vendor for some spicy dumpling soup before they closed.

The next day was the Lion City Hash. Singapore's name actually means "Lion City" or something like that and the city's logo is a Mer-lion, or a fish with a lion head. There's a famous statue near the port entrance, I took pics, it's grand, they'll get posted eventually.
So as for the Lion City Hash itself, well, I'll have to get back to you with that.
I left for it an hour and a half before the run start, only to get caught up on the bus there for over an hour. Couple that with the issue of finding a working ATM at the bus station and in the MRT (tube) lines, I ended up being an hour late for the hash. In fact I was on the bus to the start when I saw hashers (the walkers) at the end of trail. I told the bus driver to stop, jumped out and joined in file.
Of course I got a charge for that, autowanking an entire hash.
However, now that I'm back from Bintan, I will be attending the full Lion City H3 this evening, so I will just skip over that debacle and move on to this past Saturday.

The Singapore Hash House Harriets (SHHH...) 35th Anniversary!
Now staying with The Velcros, we drove to the Changi Sailing Club extremely early in order to start setting up for the event.
I took the opportunity of having extra time after registering to take a walk around the nearby park, where camping seemed to be in full swing. It was picturesque and very chill. It's someplace that would be amazing to hold a hash camp weekend or something if you could get governmental permission for the results of free flowing booze...
Returning to see everything in full swing, I changed into my hash gear and joined the line of people who were heading to the ferry boats for the long trail.
Trail was FANTASTIC! We all took ferries (about 20 ferries in all) to a nearby island. It's famous for seafood, camping and the lot. There trail took us around the edges of the seashore before cutting deep into the wood, disrupting a boy scout campout (yay!) and giving everyone a chance to slip and slide in the newly formed mud from the rain earlier that day.
Not wanting to give up on my new found energy burst (and FRBism), I spent most of the trail behind a Harriet named Tiger Lily. She's a marathoner and as strong a runner as anyone I've seen. With her in the pack, there was little worry about me ending up being lipsticked at the circle.
My only way of keeping up actually was the jungle. It appears that as fleet of foot as Tiger Lily is on the road, the jungle slows her down. I crash through areas regardless and didn't lose much speed whilst tripping over vines and what-not.
With about 10k full of a brilliant run, it was just a blast of a trail. There was a death trap (two rotting wooden planks across a treacherous gap!), a run across a still water-filled bay (reminiscent of one of Boston's trails that blew me away), and somewhere along the line some type of seasnake or something jumped up at me while I was running through a low tidal pool (yikes!).
Arriving to the end site of trail we were all treated to 100 Plus and water while we awaited ferry rides back to the sailing club for beer, food and circle.
Once there, I rinsed out my highly muddy shoes and took off my shirt before jumping in the pool. Yes, quite refreshing it was!
Beer in hand, I swam along contentedly until I heard the SHHH GM calling for circle.
I jumped out of the pool, then joined in circle (again without a shirt... oops? hey, mine was drying from trail and my back-up was drying from the rain earlier in the day!).
Sad to say though, circle was a touch lackluster. There were a HUGE amount of visitors (mostly from Malaysia), and I there was little control going on. The Malaysian hashes basically took over circle in the end with the only real outside inclusion being the Phillipino based Boo-Boo who threw out some triumphant charges on the basis that he was supposed to be in Bangkok with his fiancee until the protests caused the airports to shut and he was diverted to Singapore instead.
I got more crap for my being shirtless, but whatever, it's all good as a charge is a charge!
Things picked up in fun again though when the dinner was served. I sat next to a couple great hashers and chatted etc. for a while through dinner. Then a raffle (didn't win anything, but since I'm traveling, do I really need to?) and some skits, more raffle and dancing!
With the exception of my hating Abba (I mean, really... Abba?), it was a lot of fun. I got to dance with Original, Goody Bags and a few other ladies. None were in my age frame, but the night was about fun, not getting "action" anyway.
Eventually things closed up, the Malays went back to their hotels and most of the people left. I helped clean up with those that remained and shortly afterwards the music was on again and we all began a huge game of "throw each other in the pool!"
Within the span of 20 minutes no one was spared and we were all drenched. Thankfully we also did a great job in not throwing anyone's wallet or cell phone into the pool along with the person. Though, we did have to search for a hotel room key and a pair of glasses. It was an opportunity to test the water tightness of my flashlight I purchased in KL. Yes, it worked!

Ok, that's up to date now. I'm back from Bintan, staying with The Velcros, and we're going to the Lion City Hash tonight. Tomorrow off to KL for the Mother Hash's 70th Anniversary. On-On!

Better than that hash you did on Alpha Centauri

2008-11-30T18:14:00.000-08:00

A week ago (this would be a Monday here in Southeast Asia), I forewent going to the Mother Hash. It sounds insane, I know. However, I got an invite from Chicken Shit (one of the many I met during Sukhothai) to instead attend his hash, the PJ Animals. We called up one of the Mother Hash's mismanagement to confirm I could still register for the 70th Anniversary, day-of, and took off to the PJ Animals.
Chicken Shit is (I think...) an Indian gentleman who sports an enthusiasm for the wilder side of hashing that is on par, or bests, many I've seen. He's someone who takes it to heart, and it shows on his upper right arm where he has a PJ Animals tattoo.
Wanting to represent properly, I wore my LVHHH shirt (a neon green one with the logo designed by Nut N Honey) and bandana. On the way there, Chicken Shit asked me if the shirt I wore was from a mixed hash, "of course." I replied.
Then I learned a little something about the PJ Animals.
You see, they are a men's only hash. Like a lot of men's hashes in Asia, no women are allowed. Unlike a lot of men's hashes, with the Animals I can actually understand why. They take the "no women" as the bible and integrate it into every part of their circle. Even mentioning the word gives you a down-down charge.
Let me tell you about those! The Animals have (I kid you not... er, I goat you not?) an Ice Throne. It's a stainless steel tub with a backrest, set on something akin to a barber shop chair's base. They keep the initial beers in it until circle, then remove the beer and add more ice and water until it's the kind of slushy holy fuck that -to quote- "Is just enough to numb the balls and frost the tip."
It's both intimidating and completely amazing at the same time.
During circle, I was called up to introduce myself. Using the typical "Vegas" style rev-you-up, I immediately went into "Ladie....sssssshit." and they immediately placed me on the Ice Throne while the RA repeated that the Animals do not allow mention of "unmentionables" in circle.
I got up again, introduced myself without a slip-up, and afterwards was informed that the PJ Animals is not just the best hash in the world, but "In the universe!"
Yes, "The best hash in the universe!" is pretty much the PJ Animals call sign. Whether you or I feel our hashes are the best is indifferent, they're buying the dictionary on this one.
So, anyways, I get plopped on the ice, they give me my visitor charge and as a first time Animals attendee, I had to stand in front of the RA who pointed out my mixed hash shirt. It is an offense to wear a mixed hash shirt at the PJ Animals men's only hash!
Wow, to the extreme!
They asked if I had another shirt, I said no.
They put me aside and called in Chicken Shit. How dare he invite a hasher and not inform him of the PJ Animals custom!? Charge! On the ice! Down-down!
Then I got put back in front of the RA. I was given my beer (Quite the full one too...) and told that I had to match or beat the previous record of 1.34 seconds on the down down, or they would add ice (from the dreaded throne?) to the beer and I would have to drink it all... eww...
What have I gotten myself into?
I recieved my song, I did my down-down and as the last drop passed my lips, I felt a sudden shock and rush of cold over my head and down my back. Those bastards had taken a bucket full of ice water and drenched me!
The RA told me to take off my shirt (bandana was already off) and I handed it to Chicken Shit.
He then presented me with a dry PJ Animals shirt and the statement, "The Animals offer you a cold shower, but a warm welcome."
Then, one by one, each member lined up and shook my hand, welcoming me.
It may be the most welcome I have ever felt at a hash other than my home. Not to put down any of the absolutely amazing chapters that I've run with, but the Animals provided one hell of a show and the fuss over my presence (I'm only going to assume every visitor gets the same treatment) was overwhelming.
This is one of those shirts that I will probably never wear on trail. I will treasure it and put it on afterwards (or at least during pub crawls where I won't be sweating as much).
Congrats to the PJ Animals, they officially deserve to call themselves "Men's Only" and have the true hash spirit!

Also, trail was pretty kick ass. Nothing quite like Penang, but good mountain biking stuff up and down a bloody hill.

As for me now, I'm in Singapore, having just finished hashing 4 times in as many days. I owe a lot of blogging and I plan on completing it while I recover in Indonesia for the next 3 days. Expect to read from me again then!

On-On!

A Hash With Three Acts

2008-11-21T23:13:00.000-08:00

Last night I attended my first hash in the Kuala Lumpur area of Malaysia. The (insert horns and drum roll here)... Royal Sengalor Hash House Harriers.
Started in 1938, this is one of the oldest hash chapters in existence, apparantly competing with the "Mother Hash" for that honor.
Of course, the Royal Sengalor Club is the home of the original Hash House, the one where the hash founders would grub down after trails. I did not get inside the actual club, and the original one has long ago burned down. Though, I hear one chapter is currently trying to raise the money to rebuild it.
Arriving by one of those bastard overcharging taxi's (35 ringiit for a trip that should've cost no more than 15), I had no choice as the first three drivers wouldn't even take me that far out of the center of town. It was either pay up, or miss trail. I have now set up rides for other hashes out here in which I wish to partake. Something I did almost immediately following my arrival yesterday at trail.
So, with those bad (bad, bad) tidings out of the way, I threw my bag in the beer wagon and joined up with the pack as trail started.
When I was in Penang, I was warned that KL wasn't nearly as hilly on their trails as my prior Malay hashing experience. Oops, wrong! We hit one of the hash's favorite trail locations and almost immediately started going up. The biggest difference was that this time we were on actual trails, mostly of the mountain biking variety.
Having started the day with a slight itchy feeling in the back of my throat, I knew I would be in for worse the next day when I felt myself getting quite worn on my way up the hill. I drained my water bottle and stopped about three or four times to catch my breath before moving on.
Finally, cresting the top of the hill by following a water drainage channel in the mud, I caught up with some of the other front runners, including Chicken Shit, a PJ Animals hasher who I met in Sukothai during Indochina. A great guy, he offered to give me a lift to his hash on Monday, then placed a call to the "Mother Hash" to make sure I can register for the 70th Anniversary event the day of.
Going down was a much quicker version of going up. It wasn't nearly the level of descent that I had experienced up in Penang, but at the same time it made the whole journey a bit more balanced.
To break down trail, there were three main components.
Start out going uphill, with a touch of road before cutting into the jungle mtn. bike trail where the real uphill portions gradually set in from slight angles to heavy ones.
Crest the top, and follow a moderate downhill slope on the same types of mtn. biking trails we went up on.
A long stretch of curvy road that went up briefly before winding down the side of the hill to lead the pack back to start.
Overall it wasn't an overly long hash, with the front runners coming in around 40 minutes (I came in closer to 45 mins). There could have been a few more checks, but the ones that they had (about 3) were well placed and tricky enough to keep the pack together up until we crested the hill.
Circle was more of the standard icey goodness. I quickly became defacto songmeister again, and all the charges were done in their due time. Afterwards we ate a great dinner of chicken and rice while cleansing our palates with Carlsburg draught on tap and eventually a bottle of scotch whisky.
Post On-In, Chicken Shit and I met a couple of the harriets (Mad Fish and Meow) at a bar for another couple of drinks before he took me back in to town and I got a quick foot massage (for the second night) before going to bed. No, there were no "happy endings"... though I might be able to bartar for a free foot massage later on as they keep wanting to practice their English with me.
Today I was "supposed" to go to the Petaling H3's run in a couple hours, but I called around for a ride an hour ago and most people have left already. I hear the start is about 50k out of town, so the only way I can get there now is via taxi, which I've already decided I don't want to do. Oh well, there's still the Chelas H3 tomorrow (wherever they're hashing at), and definitely the PJ Animals on Monday!
I've also seemed to pick up some decent bartaring skill in Chinatown. I grabbed a pair of leather Puma slip on shoes for 55 ringiit, talking them down from the original 95 quote.
I figure I might grab some local garb to ship back on Monday with a whole buttload of hash shirts I've collected and now need to offload to make room in my bag.
Broheim, if you read this in the next 24, want anything to add to your wardrobe?

A Tale of 3 Hashes (The 3H club?)

2008-11-20T23:46:00.000-08:00

I must say I like Penang, Malaysia.

Absolutely loads of hashes, great folks and the jungle trails are simply insane hill climbing treks that leave you completely winded on the way up and exhilarated on the way down.

I spent a week in Penang, starting out at a small guest house just across the beach from Batu Ferringi, then switching over to Casa de Gangreen, a fellow hasher with a guest room who invited me to stay over with his family for the rest of my time there.

I also parasailed, had the misfortune of having a jellyfish (more likely stray dismembered tentacles from one) go up the leg of my swimwear, and got to snap pictures of wild monkeys while in the Botanical Gardens.

While in Penang I also hashed with three (count 'em, 1... 2... 3! Ha ha ha!) hashes. The Hash House Harriets Penang , the Penang International Hash Hounds (or PI) and the Hash Kaki Penang (Penang's simplest hash).

In doing so, I managed to miss hashing with 3 other hash clubs. The PH4, Penang Men's Hash and the Seberang H4.

In fact, to hash once with every single hash in Penang, it would take the better part of a month, simply because many hashes run on the same day, at the same time. It's almost like Atlanta, but seemingly more competitive in regards to group splits.

In regards to my paid internet time, I will comment that every hash I went to went up into a jungle, up and around large hills (more like small mountains), crested the top, then went back down in some fashion. They were all A to A trails and there were no water stops.

Hash House Harriets Penang:

This was my first trail on the jungle island and due to my phone's clock being off (it seems to do that a lot lately), I was late to the start. The pack had taken off about 10 minutes prior and I quickly got trail instructions from the harriet who laid trail prior to my starting.

Oh, with no bag car and not knowing if the trail was A to A or not, I carried my backpack with me into the trees.

Within about 20 minutes my calves were burning, my water bottle was already halfway gone and my shirt was soaked. The intense jungle humidity combined with the extra weight of my pack and my not being used to hills was simply brutal. I did quickly catch up to some of the older hashers, but ended up doing most of trail with just one trail buddy after two others turned back.

Up, down and around, then up again, around some more and then down, trail was only 3k, but the amount of ascents kept things from going too quickly. Eventually, a harriet named Bibi caught up to us (she was later to start than I!) and we followed her in.

Food was cooked, chats were had, I ran into Crazy German again (whom I first met at Indochina) and I learned that in Penang, you have to pay for beer. Nope, it's not included with the run fee. But it is the cheapest beer in town at roughly a dollar fifty a bottle. Yes, beer in Malaysia is pricey compared to other Asian countries. I think it has something to do with the heavy Muslim influence here. Oh well...

Circle itself was a lot of fun. They had the requisite block of ice, with the added fun of them dumping cups of cold water on you when you weren't looking during the accusation.

They also like to sing, but they don't know that many songs. When I started singing one of the more common ones from the U.S., looks of glee ignited in the Harriets eyes and I suddenly became Song Meister for the evening. I was also made to promise to get lyrics out to hashers within the group for their own learning and singing enjoyment. Here ya go!

http://harrier.net/songbook/index.html

Penang International Hash Hounds:

This trail started out halfway up one of Penang's giant hills and only went up from there! The group this time was much bigger, numbering what seemed like around 80. They were also more into it with rugby socks, gloves and everyone (including me this time thanks to Gangreen) had water packs on.

Trail started out climbing up a concrete water drainage canal directly into the bush, which is where I spilt my first blood of the night ramming my knee into one of the steps.

Shaking it off, we started a small animal path up, up and up, following a paper trail that eventually led to a check. We split up looking for trail in all sorts of directions, myself going up and right into a thick mess of bush with lots of friendly pricks looking to say, "Hi!" with a couple other hashers.

Several minutes later, someone found trail straight right from the check and not wanting to give up the high ground, me and a couple other pushed one last time through the waist high shrubbery to another animal trail before cutting right. A few meters later, the FRB's were climbing up right past us, so we changed course and joined in the chorus line of hashers.

I could feel my calves on fire from the heavy ascent and my left hand had two bleeding fingers from grabbing onto sawgrass, then switching to something with spikes, but I could've cared less. Atlanta had taught me how to block off the superficial cuts and scrapes and it probably saved me a down-down later that night. Rock on.

Trail was this past Saturday, so it was longer, probably 6 or 7k. Normally not a tough time, but with the hills and trees it was brutal. Often times I would need to simply grab trees and vines and climb up the hill, often falling back down or sliding onto my stomach into the mud because my shoes had long lost their tread (I had been looking for a new pair since Europe).

Eventually we crested the hill and after one more drop on my ass (to which Love Lace told me, "at least you have cushioning!"), The three or four hashers in my midst had a straight clear path through the trees on relatively stable ground.

Picking up speed, I suddenly felt a sharp jab on the back of my leg, up near the knee. Then a couple steps later, again in my shin. I slowed down wondering what the hell I had stepped in thinking that a thorny branch was sticking me, when Love Lace slapped her upper arm and cried out in pain. O.B., a harriet in front of both of us yelled, "bees! RUN!" and we did, high tailing it past a couple other hashers and out of the area as quickly as possible before we could get stung more.

Funny thing about the bees in the Penang jungle hills. They are small, black, hurt like hell and I never heard them coming.

Eventually safe from maurading insects and catching up to other hashers we then started going down, down, down amongst the trees. Often times the way down was so steep (combined with a lack of tread on my shoes) that the best way to progress was to go George of the Jungle style and simply use smaller, flexible trees and jungle vines as a way to control an otherwise wickedly fast descent. Barring the couple times when I almost ran into trees covered in inch long thorns, this was absolutely thrilling! By the time I had made it almost down the hill, I had become a master of just swinging from vine to tree to tree to vine again. In most cases I simply jumped, leaving my feet to touch the ground again only after whatever I grabbed onto slowed my momentum enough to bounce to the next one.

This only failed me once, at the very end, when I lost trail, but knew it was within 50 meters up from the roadside, and I decided to just shortcut through the bush but grabbed a hold of an unsecure vine which left me to roll once and then crash into the back side of a metal shed. Creating an awesome WHAM! sound.

Unhurt, time for circle!

Food and beer were the same as before. The munchies were a proper dinner cooked by the hares, and beer you paid for by the bottle. The only beer included with the run price was the down down beer, of which I had a few.

You see, somehow my singing prowess (?) had gotten out from the previous hash two nights prior and I was called to sing again a few times. Eventually getting called into circle for my visitor down-down.

Knowing what they did last time (let's keep your shirt dry, they dumped it in the ice water the beer was in before placing it over me), I beat them to the punch, taking off my shirt, then dousing it in ice water before putting it on again, then sitting on the ice.

They poured ice water over me, to no effect.

Now what? Oh yes, insted of putting Alcoholiday on the ice, let's put the ice on Alcoholiday!
They had me lay on the ground, then lifted up the ice block and placed it on my chest/stomach.

I'd like to think I held it up pretty well, especially when they then poured ice water on me. Stories were told, I sang my song and drank my beer, then another before they finally took the ice off and I got up.

Asking the Harriets for help to get warm (to no avail!), I got back into circle and seemed to become the song guy again, though less to an extent of the hash before.

Very good fun, and the Penang International Hash Hounds is holding a weekend pre-amble to next year's Interhash in Borneo that is promising to be spectacular. They are even holding a Red Dress Run during the pre-amble. So if you're going to '10 Interhash, it very well may be worth it to include a stop over in Penang before hand!

Tuesday Kaki Hash:

Oh boy, this should be fun.

I dislike taxi's in Malaysia, they charge foriegners anywhere from two to three times as much for fares and they refuse to use the meter they are supposed to follow by law. Gangreen explained the why to me, but all that means is I guess I won't be taking taxi's anywhere.

I ended up several kilometers away from where I was staying as a result of wanting to check out the Queensbay Mall (Penang's largest). When trying to go back, no one would take me on meter, so I told them to fuck off and went to look for a bus.

Instead I found myself in the back side of a police boat yard. I explained my mishaps and one of the wrenchers offered to take me in to Georgetown on his motorbike. I graciously accepted, threw him a few ringit for petrol and jumped on, getting in touch with Gangreen to arrange a pick up at a major hotel so I could make the trail (sadly making us both late to start by quite a bit as a result).

When we finally arrived, we were about half an hour late, late enough that the hares provided us with a short-cut route to meet up with the others. So we SCB'd directly up the hill. A much shorter, but much steeper route. Having adjusted to the hill climbs that had slaughtered me earlier, combined with knowing we were chunking off a huge part of trail, it felt like a quick ascent to the top, backtracking on some bits to follow trail paper left by a couple other hash clubs that had been in the same area over the past week or so.

At the top we waited in some kind of makeshift Chinese playground/tea room until Gangreen's wife, Sex Bitch arrived, then together we followed trail down to the on-in.

Crazy German was there as well (he was at all 3 of my Penang hashes), but decided to try and cut trail short by going downhill at an earlier point and ended up on the wrong side of the island.

Food, beer, etc. It was a good meal, with dessert included!
The circle was held with ice, down downs were given. It wasn't as hard core as the nights before, but then again, the Tuesday Kaki Hash is Penang's simplest hash!
On-On!
Tonight I hash in KL!

DANGER MINES... er HASH!

2008-11-17T02:21:00.001-08:00

A little over a week back, Mount Hee and I traveled to Cambodia.
Specifically Phnom Penh, in order to hash.
On his budget level (one thing I have learned is that two travelers on
different budgets should meet up at places rather than travel together
as the limits of one almost always comes in conflict with the other)
we caught a train to the Thai/Cambodia border with intentions of
taking the next rail into Phnom Phen.
Boy that didn't work... First off the train from Bangkok was late,
then we arrived in the border town after the border closed, forcing us
to stay the night.
While looking for lodging Mount Hee kept aiming for the cheapest one.
The end result was a roach infested single room with ants on the bed
(where we figured the sheets weren't washed very frequently either.
Not trusting the place we took our valuables with us when we went out
to get dinner. On the way back I found a much nicer place for a
heftier price.
Not wanting to swallow the extra 3 dollars the reach motel cost him,
Mount Hee went back while I got a roughly 15 dollar room at this other
place where we agreed to meet the next day to cross over the border.
When crossing it was simply a run around. The border agent used a
guidebook (Lonely Planet?) to show us th entry rate, then asked for a
tip.
After that, he set us up with a shared taxi into Siam Reap. A 60
dollar ride smooshed into a Toyota Corolla with 2 other white people.
Then we went on a 4 or so hour ride along ghastly pot hole filled
roads, stopping at money changers (probably all working for the same
company as the taxi and border agent) who kept wanting us to change in
our Thai baht for cambodian currency (no thank you).
Then, the taxi takes us to a Tuk Tuk stand where we are told to switch
rides, and are given a guide who promises to arrange a taxi to Phnom
Penh for 80 US.
The driver doesn't speak english and the taxi doesn't even look like a
taxi. I think up a story to get rid of the tuk tuk driver and our
'guide', then have to pay off the taxi driver to get them to finally
leave.
So, there we are, in the middle of somewhere, siam Reap, Cambodia, the
only white people for who knows how far, and did I mention it's
raining like the dam burst?
Oh, the bus station is 'closed' also...
We hail a new tuk tuk and aim for the airport with hopes of getting a
plane to Phnom Penh and ending what has (for two days) been a relative
nightmare. Only to find out that you can't buy a plane ticket at the
airport. Only through travel agents in town... It's now past 8:00 at
night and we are both feeling very discouraged. Cambodia, so far, has
been ripping us off and leaving us for dead.
We catch another Tuk Tuk back into town, get a decent room that we
split for roughly 10 apiece and purchase boat tickets to Phnom Penh
for the next morning on the advice of Big Beaver, whom gave us a ride
from Indochina to Chiang Mai.
The next day consisted of a solid jet boat ride across the largest
lake in Cambodia, dropping us off in Phnom Penh with about 2 hours
until the hash started. We dropped our bags off, grabbed a tuk tuk and
made it to the pick up point about 1/2 an hour before they left to
begin trail.
Hashing in Cambodia wasn't all that bad, especially considering what
we went through to get there. It wasn't difficult by any means
(especially compared to what other hashers were telling me to expect).
Mostly along back alleys and wide dirt roads. We were in a more rural
area though, so we ran through some of the local villages where the
villagers were lining the streets to watch us (to quote the website)
"crazy barang runners".
Circle was lively and fun where everyone got to drink out of these
small silver bowls. The beer of choice in Cambodia is Anchor, a local
brew that is pretty hefty in alcohol content, ranging right up there
with the English Ales.
We spent an extra day in Phnom Phen, staying with a fellow hasher who
is also on Couchsurfing named Greg.
I finally got to break out my hammock which was also cool. There was
also the Water festival going on, so we all went to check that out.
Later that second night Mount Hee and I caught a flight to Bangkok, to
resituate for Malaysia.
Not wanting to deal with another border crossing mess, I booked a
flight, but seeing the 120 dollar ticket price, Mount Hee said, "Fuck
that." and went to catch an overnight train.
I spent the night at Noriega's bar (hash bars for the win!) and took
the flight the next morning to Penang with an extra day of leeway
before my first intended hash there with the Penang Harriets, which
will be my next post!

Posting at the speed of ...meh

2008-11-14T23:01:00.001-08:00

Funny thing about tropical island life. It sucks your initiative for
things like posting in blogs, but gives you great energy for things
like waterfalls, running on the beach, rock scrambling, vine swinging
and all that. The perfect appetite builder for Tom Yam Fung and
grilled red snapper.
The only real down side to Malaysia so far is the beer is close to
Western European prices.
What's that? I'm in Malaysia!?
I'm a touch behind in hash posts (over a week now), so I'll have to do
these in a briefer format.
Pattaya H3 was a bit different from the Jungle hash they have out
there. With a group that numbers close to 100, there are definite
clicks that form between group members. Is this for the best of the
hash as a whole? I can't really say.
As for trail itself, we started in the middle of a rubber tree
plantation about a 45 minute bus ride from Pattaya. Traversing all
sorts of various terrain, it was an exceedlingly well laid trail that
broke from the rubber trees to the pineapple fields, then through some
jungle into tapioca trees (thankfully no wasps this time) and back
along service roads before cutting back into the jungle again to
returns into the rubber trees.
All in all it was about a 10k hash with tricky checks and well marked paths.
Circle itself was as grand as most I've attended, though much bigger.
The vibe from the Jungle hashes circle carried through, but not to the
extent of rambunctiousness (if that's even a word, whatever).
Back in Switzerland I was given a book by Moose Diver called Hasta
Bananas, written by a hasher named Black Justice (real name, Otti
Schmidt). While traveling to and through Thailand, I was able to read
through it. Basically his chronicles of sailing the south seas back in
the mid to late 90's, it was a fun read and really has helped me to
continue this blog (though I have been lazy as of late).
Well, standing in circle that night, I look at the hasher standing
next to me and he looks very similar to Otti. I ask him his hash name
and sure enough, It's Black Justice himself!
On the bus ride back into town, we chatted about traveling, writing
and sailing. It turns out he no longer has his boat Hasta Manana, but
still travels around asia and the south seas, just golfing in his
retirement. Very cool, even though I am not a golfer myself.
After the Pattaya hash, I spent a few more days in Pattaya, just
enjoying the beach, then jumped a bus back to Bangkok to meet up with
Mount-Hee to travel to Cambodia. Ummm... that's the next post!

Welcome to the Jungle (hash)

2008-11-05T01:11:00.000-08:00

From my experiences with the Pattaya hashers in both Sukothai and Chiang Mai, I knew they were the group I wanted to hash with next. They seemed to know a good trail from a bad one and they could hold a kick ass circle. All in all, these were good guys.
Catching an overnight train from Chiang Mai to Bangkok (15 hours, 3rd class, sandwiched between two monks, this was an experience in its own right. It should be noted that I was the ONLY person in 3rd class who wasn't Thai. It was a bit rough at times as there was no AC and the mosquitos were rampant, but I would not call it a bad journey by any means, just uncomfortable.), I arrived only to be told that the trains to Pattaya don't run Friday through Sunday, I would have to take a bus instead. Then a worker there said they had one available and I went through the big mess of being conned into paying way too much for a minibus instead of the standard bus I wanted to take. Throw that in with the shit accomodations that they set up for me (charging 400 baht for too... that's the last time I a: let someone else set up my place to stay and b: not look at a place before staying there) and it wasn't the best start.
I took the opportunity of my first day there to walk around, get a map and just learn the area. I found the spot where the hashers meet to catch the hash bus and then headed back to my room with a 4 pack of Singha with the hopes that passing out would help alleviate where I was staying.
The next day I walked all of 5 minutes down the road and found another Guest House named Kim's that was only 100 baht a night more and I can quite frankly call it a 4 star accomodation. With what even the local hashers called a hell of a deal I booked the place for 4 nights and once again walked around, this time making it down to the beach to soak in the sun, dodge the prostitutes (they are EVERYWHERE) and just take in the atmosphere of "the eXtreme city" of Pattaya.
On Sunday I arrived at The Thistle Bar where I met up with many of the Pattaya hashers I had met at Indochina. Shiek Me Me, Shiek Bin Shaggin, Lord Lucan, Dizzy and others, including Mount Hee.
Paying the 400 baht visitor run fee (350 for locals, 250 for women...)
We jumped on the bus and headed out into the tapioca and pineapple fields of the surrounding rural areas for trail. With the bus pulling up next to a water retention basin of some sort, we walked a short way to the A site where they were unloading ice, setting up a circle of stools (sitting circle in Pattaya) and just getting ready in general.
There I met the hares, V.V. and Tampax and after a short span we set off into the tapioca trees to follow paper.
Zipping around the trees was good run, until I heard a slight buzzing in my ear and before I knew it hot fire shot into me. I was the victim of a wasp who nailed me in my left ear. I haven't been stung in a long time, but that just was incredible pain. Shiek Bin Shaggin' later told me he saw the damn thing target me, then follow me from three meters back like a damned guided missle.
By the time I shook off the pain, the running pack was well ahead and I had to work to catch up with the walkers. Regaling my tale with one of the Pattaya members, I got the response, "Welcome to Pattaya Jungle!" Boy ain't that right!
Nevertheless, I wasn't going to let one lousy wasp ruin this trail for me so I took off with a combination of following paper and shortcutting by listening to the cries of "On-On!" in the distance. Through this clever methodology I was easily able to catch up to the meat of the pack.
Eventually falling into a good pace, the trail started to divvy from the pineapple field paths and switched into the jungle. Same good jungle shiggy, much less mud than before. Thankfully the well laid trail kept our losing paper to a minimum and before I knew it, we were breaking back out into grassy fields and more pineapple. A few k more and the On-In was a welcome sight from what I could consider a great jungle run. Honor to the hares, V.V. and Tampax!
While waiting for the rest of the pack to come in, Asheville hasher Mount Hee decided to go swimming in the water basin. Umm, ok, swim away...
As he got out into the water Dizzy yelled at him to get out of the water, that they were starting a crocodile farm. Mount Hee quickly exited only to have Dizzy come up and say, "only joking mate!" Something that would come back to haunt Mount Hee in circle later that night.
With the pack now in, V.V. procured some wonderful french quisine of meatballs, rice and soup. We all noshed on the goodies for a while before Dizzy finally got circle a-goin' by calling the hares to the ice.
Now, it should be noted that Pattaya Jungle Hash is a sitting circle. They provide stools for everyone and two of the stools are pink. These are the "poofter stools" and if you get caught sitting on one, you get the bucket.
After the hare's down-down Dizzy explained his little joke to Mount Hee and after the laughter died down, he was proclaimed "the victim!" and given a fancy bonnet and girlie umbrella.
More down downs were given and Shiek Me Me took the stage with the call of "Jellybutt, in THE BUCKET!"
And there he stayed, in the bucket, while Shiek Me Me related story after story of some form or another. Then us Americans ended up on the ice for... well fucking up the world economy (sorry?). Well, at least we don't half ass stuff.
Shiek Me Me then passed circle back to Dizzy and Jellybutt got called out of the bucket. Not a second after he had rejoined circle Dizzy goes, "Jellybutt, in the bucket!"
Now, I don't know Jellybutt, but the man was getting abuse (sado?).
Circle passed hands a couple more times, with Dizzy getting us Americans on the ice again, this time for a report that came out of America that said people who drink more than 4 liters of beer a week have a greater chance for dementia. He then asked us on the ice how much we drank last week (I said, yes!), then commented on the other hashers drinking levels (I was six beers in, what do you want me to remember? Make it good!). He finished up our down-down and with Jellybutt out of the bucket and the ice empty, I was called in to have a hand in circle.
So, who did I call in? Jellybutt!
Keeping him off the ice for a moment, I asked the pack if they felt he had suffered enough. Of course not. But rather than put him in the bucket, I put him on the ice. I then called out the victim, and said that Jelly's been abused, and who gets abused more than the victim? Mount Hee, in the bucket!
I then called out the hares. You see these wankers were also the beer wenches and they had control of one of the pink poofter stools. All night they were trying to get me to sit on it, switching out my seat every time I stood up. But I am a wary and wily hasher and they failed time and time again. Their only success was when Mount Hee was on the ice and I pointed out to them that a valid opportunity was presented (yeah, I'm an advocate!).
I gave my down down, told Mount Hee to get out of the bucket and on the ice. Then I told the hares to get off the ice, and told Jellybutt to get back in the bucket before passing circle off to Dizzy who wrapped things up nice and cleanly. We all snagged a beer for the road before jumping back on the hash bus and heading back to The Thistle Bar.
All in all it was a grand experience and well worth my journey to Pattaya. Best hash in Asia so far!
Now, you may be wondering why I've gone into so much detail about circle. Well, at the beginning of circle Dizzy was looking for a scribe. No volunteers, so since I knew I would be blogging this anyway, I figured I could do the job with some degree of inefficiency. I've been pecking it together for the past 3 days through the beer haze of my mind. Who needs notes!?

Chiang Mai Post Lube

2008-11-05T00:20:00.001-08:00

So, Mount Hee, Bimbo and myself caught a ride up with a fellow hasher and his wife up to Chiang Mai for the Indochina post lube.
Brilliant, perhaps this will help offset my disgust at Indochina 2008 itself!
We arrived and Mount Hee and myself snagged a double bed room at a guest house for only 300 baht total. Hanging out our soaked clothes from the rain we got our hash gear on and headed over to the Number 1 Bar to catch the bus to the run start.
Well, one of the run starts. It turns out that both the standard Chiang Mai hash and the Chiang Mai H3 (original, male only) were hosting trails that day. Something about local hash politics... bleh.
Nevermind, I ponied up the remainder of my baht for the trail (700 baht for a trail? wtf?), ordered a beer and waited for the hash bus to arrive. Mount Hee did the same, then, with a miscommunication between the hash cash, ordered the largest beer at the bar, thinking it was free. It should be mentioned that as budgeted as I am (which is why the cost of hashing in Asia has been a horrible shock to me), Mount Hee is even worse. I will swing 100 baht to a meal (roughly 3 bucks) and Mount Hee is grimicing at anything over 70. It's actually a little frustrating because every half penny is getting counted and I can't be bothered with it.
Ok, on to trail.
The bus took us out into the jungles of Thailand, about a half hour trip from the center of Chiang Mai. It turned out to be a special trail because the land was owned by a man who does organic farming and he's never let the hash hold trail there before. Even better was that this was PURE jungle. Most of what we hashed through was more than likely not frequented by humans.
The hares, Liberace, Graven Image and Grease Gorilla put us through our paces with tricky checks and shredded paper dancing akimbo from tree branches, bamboo and bird nets!
Of course right off the bat trail took us across a stream and then up an embankment that must have been in the 60 degree plus range. Combined with the rain earlier that day it turned into a giant mudslide that required us hashers to pick and pull our way up by grabbing the bamboo stalks. Simply incredible and absolutely dirty!
Once we got up on the hill, trail started to follow barely discernable animal trails that were no wider than a couple inches in some places. Still using the trees and bamboo for support, we hashed our way deep into the jungle, finally taking a left and partially sliding down to the creek we had crossed before. Only this time we had lost paper and began trudging around in high grass with who knows what sliding around between our legs. Later that night Dog Shit asked if I saw the snakes... What snakes? Oh, you know, the dozens of snakes that were getting the hell out of the water whenever we went in... Nope, didn't see them...
Eventually, with the call of "On-On!" someone found trail and we sloshed our way out of the grassy fields (did I mention the briar vines entangling our legs yet?) up to a nearby road. That's when I heard a yell of "Holy shit!" behind me. Turning around, Mount Hee was yelling about the largest damn snake he had ever seen that just slid between his legs while walking down the same path that I had just walked! We all got up on the road and a short way down we found the beer stop.
After a quick brewsky, we split up-some of the hashers going on the walking trail and the rest (myself included) on the longer running trail. Liberace informed me that there was only about 1k difference between the two, but the walkers stayed on the road from here on out while us runners got more jungle.
More jungle it was! Just a little way down the road trail suddenly cut left and we were back in the bush and trees, slipping on mud and navigating our way between thorn bush A, thorn bush B and rocky drop off C. At least twice I had grabbed a tree for support, only to yelp in pain as my hand grabbed right onto the half inch long thorns of a vine creeping up the hidden side.
Then the bird nets, where Fag, Mount Hee and myself rescued a trapped sparrow (which probably was eaten by some local wildlife afterwards anyway. These nets were made of an incredibly thing black webbing that in all honesty was completely invisible in the jungle. Immediately after freeing the bird, I ducked the bird net only to run right into another one. Fortunately I wasn't tangled and backed out to catch up with the rest of the pack.
After another few minutes I was now out of the jungle and on the road, catching up with Laos hasher Condom and then Fag. Knowing we were close and not wanting to get stuck out in the rapidly approaching dark, Fag and I shortcut part of trail and slid into the On-In where beer and kebabs waited.
There was a lot of quibble about the early part of trail being poorly marked and how it was so thick in the bush, not using any proirly established trails (animals or otherwise), but after hashing in Atlanta, I felt that this trail did quite well. An impressive showing for the Men's Hash.
Circle was another deal though, with a very promising combination of ice and a frozen in ice pig's head. However, it went on forever. It was just too long and suffered from the same -same song- fate as most of Asia's other circles. Nevertheless, there was a break in the middle of circle for everyone to go get more food (where I took the opportunity to take a nap in the bus).
The evening ended with a group photo in our new shirts and an on-after at the Foxy Lady A Go Go, which is owned by Fag. First drink free.
Very cute, tiny girls, but I'm not paying to bring one home. I'm not sure where they've been and I'm sure they have been to a lot of places. With another 2-3 months left on my trip, I don't feel like dealing with fire penis. Fair enough, the next day was another post-lube with the Chiang Mai Bunny Hash.
After securing another place to stay for a few days (Mount Hee left that morning) I jogged over to the Number 1 bar and hopped on the bus for round two of hashing. This time the trip was in a completely different direction, about 45 minutes out and we landed at the home of a hasher named Bone-Her. Great house with a pool, guest house, pool table room and frog pond. It was on a huge plot of land and had roman-esque decorating everywhere. Having already paid the 250 baht for this trail (ok, this is a little better), I found out that if I wanted any food, it would be another 150 baht...
They also had shirts, but having now paid 400 for trail alone, I just didn't feel like ponying up another 250 baht. Besides, I'm running out of room in my bag.
Trail itself was pretty well done. The hares had marked everything exceedingly well, taking us up footpaths and animal paths in the hills behind Bone-Her's. However, this was an extremely well hashed area and the FRB's did a premiere job of solving every check on the first go, which left us middle folk quickly falling further back.
Then it happened, somewhere along the way one of the FRB's broke a check in the wrong direction. As Noriega, Lord Lucan and myself tried to figure it out we went all the way up a hill to a watt (thai monk monestary) where there was a statue of a huge buddha being built, and then down a road... All of a sudden we were alone, getting caught in a mix where the non-male hash had their trail the day prior. Trekking further and further down a road, following paper that turned out to not be the right trail, and eventually finding the prior day's On-In before back tracking and still getting no where. Eventually Lord Lucan decided to simply follow the road in a "generally accurate" direction and we followed to find paper about a half mile down the way.
Now back on trail we ran it in, discovering that in our confusion most of the pack had now passed us and after our arrival only about 5 or 6 other hashers had to come in.
Circle began as before, minus the pig's head. It was lively and a huge improvement, but still the same bloody song. Then we broke for food, some excellent soup and more of the kebabs from the prior night. Garlic bread too!
After eating, circle started up again with its various highs and lows. I guess the reason it went well was because they weren't afraid to pass it off to others. With about 40-50 hashers there it gave a great chance for everyone to get their various infractions in. Bonus.
At the end, we all returned to the Number 1 bar for another couple of beers before calling it a night. All in all, a good hash.
Next up, Pattaya Beach City, Thailand.

Mekong Indochina 2008 pt. 2

2008-11-03T22:11:00.000-08:00

I woke up on my hotel bed at roughly 9:30, a wicked 3 hours of sleep from the prior night's drinking. Thankfully I am pretty adept at avoiding hangovers, so despite being direly dehydrated, I was headache free. Throwing my hash gear on, I exited the hotel and found a local food establishment where I enjoyed a bowl of noodle soup for roughly 25 baht, picked up a giant bottle of water at a neighboring stall and then hopped over to the hash bus pick-up spot to get to trail.
Unfortunately a poorly written timeline in the event guide had about 30 of us waiting for a 10 a.m. bus that didn't exist. Not being sleepy anymore I continued to down water and sports drinks to prepare for my trail of choice: long.
There was a medely of trails available for different hashers. Each leaving at different times and each of varying lengths.
23k ball buster
13k long
8-9k medium
5k short (walker) trail.
Having spent so much of the previous night drinking into the morning, I knew I wasn't up to the ball buster, so I jumped on the long bus that arrived at 1 p.m. and was taken to trail in the middle of Old City Sukothai.
We were all handed bottles of water at the start of trail, the hares being informed by mismanagement that they would not have a water stop despite the incredibly hot and humid weather (think Atlanta in the summer). So, we took off into the jungle, following small animal paths past thorny vines and twisty trees. Bamboo spines hurt!
Clearing past the jungle we entered a massive stretch of rice paddies. Running along the dirt mounds that separated the fields, the clouds broke open and the sun rained down with an oppressive heat that left me cursing the hares for not having a water stop.
Then came the cows, large groups that liked to chase hashers as we jumped over electric fences to follow trail. It was amazing, it was surreal, it really just needed a water stop.
When I started getting a touch light headed, I knew it was time to slow it down. We were about 4k into trail and I paused on a grassy knoll trying to find the best way across the small stream (and enjoying a minute of shade). That's when it happened. I felt a strong shock that damn near made my legs collapse from under me. I had mistakenly stopped atop a knocked down part of the electric fence.
I warned the couple of hashers immediately behind me and crossed the stream, reverting to a walk for the next 5k. That fence drained me of almost all my energy, as well it should. The thing needs to stop cattle, right?
After leaving the rice fields and entering a small grouping of houses, me and my walking buddy turned a corner to see the most amazing sight, a water stop! While waiting at the On-In the hares got a call from one of mismanagement asking where they wanted the water. Not expecting such a thing, they immediately jumped in a car and picked a spot, getting the water there only 10 minutes before the FRB's of the long trail. Quickly downing several bottles I was then pointed in the direction of trail and told it was only about 3k more to the end. With my energy returning, I started out in a jog, before building to my previous running speed to the end.
All in all, it was a good trail that I wish I could have enjoyed a bit more.
Of course the on-in was another story. The beer was relegated to two taps where the Tiger girls were again dispensing. This led to an incredible back-up in the beer line. Combine that with a lack of enough post-hash snacks for the long and ball buster trail hashers and things got irritating for a lot of people.
Then circle.
The ice was lined up, about 10 blocks in all, side by side. This forced circle to be a giant oval with a mud pit for the center. The event runners had an incredibly difficult time keeping control of circle, if only because they spent time honoring themselves and people from their hash, but never opened it up to others. Combine that with the same hash song being sung over and over and over and over and over and over again, "Here's to ..., he/she/they are blue, they are hashers through and through, they are piss pots so we say, never get to heaven in a long long way..."
After about ten minutes of this, anyone who wasn't part of the group running the event simply felt ignored and left out. The Copenhagen hash contingent tried to liven things up, but got shut down by the circle master. One aspiring hasher ran in and put HIMSELF on the ice to try and bring some level of entertainment to the event only to be told, "Get the fuck out of my circle."
No humor here, circle was long, incredibly boring and quite frankly, sucked.
From what I hear, the mismanagement got an earful from many a hasher that night, which might explain why they were having dinner at their own separate table, away from the entertainment..?
The night did perk up though as after eating buffet style Thai food, several of the Pattaya hashers had gathered in a neighboring gazebo and, while not a circle, broke into many a great and unique hash song. It was lively, it was fun, it had beer!
Eventually we all got on the buses back to the Welcome site where the Tiger girls were set up to distribute beer. But, oh, wait! They were CHARGING now!?
50 baht again for a small plastic cup. Well, fuck this, was the sentiment among many a hasher and we all traveled across the street to 7-11 where we picked up large bottles of Chang Chang and Leo for 65 baht.
Of course, as time passed, the night went on, Tiger wasn't selling beer so they packed up and left and the groups dwindled down to about 10 hashers. We joined tables and once more turned on the still tapped Tiger kegs, eventually killing them. Again, not one iota of guilt after how much the event cost.
The next day was the hangover trail at a pool across from the original welcome site. This time the Tiger beer was free and we all indulged. There was food and you could get a massage for a couple hundred baht if you so desired.
Trail itself was literally a walk around the block. It was a giant bloody rectangle in the rain. I put on my feet shoes for this? Coming back to the pool area we ate and drank and were told to shut-up for circle.
Circle, for its own merit was better than the day prior if only for being short. Again, the only people recognized were from the event hosts and the same damn song was sung repeatedly.
Once circle was over, the Pattaya hash decided to hold their own circle outside of the pool area. Now things got fun! They obtained a tub of ice, sat around it and just belted out accusations and songs, passing circle around from one to another like a hot potato. They even gave me a chance to be circle master for a bit.
Now, remember Hasher Eliah, the guy from Asheville who pretended to be Canadian (British Columbia) for the entire bloody weekend? Well I got him on the ice and related the weekend's story to the circle of hashers. After the laughter died I mentioned that he wasn't named yet and if they thought it was a good time to name him. The pack said yes and started throwing out names. Canadian Bacon (it's not real), Mount Him, Fuck a Canuck, etc... Eventually Kunt Foo said "Mount Hee" (hee is Thai for pussy) and it stuck.
Sorry Ashville Hash, stole one from ya!
A gent from mismanagement came over to see what was going on and we invited him to sit on the ice, which he refused then left. I don't know, they just seemed ridiculously rude all weekend. Bah.
After the unofficial kick-ass circle, some of the Pattaya hashers found rides up to Chiang Mai for a post-lube hash the next day. I switched to another hotel where the traveling group was staying and after drinking and bantering over what was wrong with the weekend we called it a night.
Well, actually the guest house owner poked his head out and said that it was midnight and we were too loud, so we called it a night. Nice place though, and only 250 baht.

So, I did the math and the weekend cost me roughly 8000 baht after adding in the beer purchased (because, it wasn't always free), food and the extra hotel night.
That is just shy of $230. By far the most expensive hashing event weekend I have ever attended, not counting Betty Ford 2007, but that one was my own damn fault.
I hear next year will be in Burma. One can only hope that a different hash acts as event hosts and mismanagement, because I will never attend one hosted by the same people as Indochina 2008.

If Asia is cheap and Hashing is cheap... Indochina pt. 1

2008-11-02T22:25:00.001-08:00

Then why on bloody earth is hashing in Asia so damn expensive?
Seriously, across the U.S. and even most of Europe, hashes were rarely more than 5-8 dollars. Here in Thailand most trails are closer to 12. I mean, I don't know the economics of hashing in Asia as I haven't been here long enough, but last night I paid the equivalent of a night in a hotel to hash the trail. Granted you are generally fed along with the beer, but it still doesn't add up.

A bit of simple math if you want to calculate the prices as I write them. $1 is roughly 35 baht, give or take a couple baht. If you do the math, you'll see why I am pissed off.
It should be noted, that despite the very negative tone of this post, I was incredibly composed during the event and outside of feeling like my wallet was raped like the cellmate of a guy named Bubba in a maximum security prison, I met many very cool hashers and saw some great trails.
I just felt it wasn't worth the couple hundred bucks I had to cough up for it.

Ok, on to Mekong Indochina 2008.
I caught a bus up to Sukothai after spending a couple days in Bangkok. I was unable to hash with them as finding my guest house took me exceedingly long, but I did get to meet a few of the Bangkok hashers at Noriega's, a bar owned by a hasher named... Noriega. We kicked back a few beers and chatted for a couple hours before I called it a night, got ripped off by a taxi to the guest house (he wanted 500 baht, I talked him down to 350, turns out it should have cost closer to 200...). Then headed up to Sukothai the next day.
Arriving with roughly two hours before the first night's events, I walked into registration and was basically assaulted for not rego-ing on the website months ahead of time. Well, fuck you, it said in plain english on the website that we were more than welcome to rego on-site after the online registration closed.
I even e-mailed the presiding GM before leaving Switzerland 3 days prior to let her know I was coming and if there was anything I should know, to which I never recieved a response.
This only compounded the fact I was missing the Red Dress Run that I paid 800 baht for on my way in. Sure, we'll take your money, never mind that we've already done trail and are having circle now... Whatever, charity, right?
Anyways, I with rego a complete clusterfuck (from people I talked to, even the pre-regs were having trouble at sign-in), I saw a hasher saying that if anyone needed a room, to go to him.
I walked over, and he (very lucky I don't remember his hash name because I have never been treated so rudely) asked if I had pre-registered online. I said no, he said, "Well, why not?" Then continued that since I didn't register yet he couldn't help me before basically telling me to go away.
Ok, so this guy is a complete dick, whatever. I finally get up to the registration/sign in desk and they give me a form to fill out and take my...
3500 baht.
I see a spot at the bottom of the rego that says if I need a room (great, I do!) I can pay an extra 500 baht and they will get one for me. I ask if they can still do this, they say, "yes." so I fill it in and they take another 500 baht from me.
Total event cost so far (including the 350 baht bus trip from Bangkok) is now 5500 baht.
They send me over to asshole hasher running the hotel stuff and he AGAIN tells me that since I didn't pre-reg online I am basically shit out of luck and then asks me AGAIN why I didn't pre-reg.
Sorry fuck-tard, but I ONLY FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS EVENT 3 DAYS AGO. I know I am in Thailand, but your dumb ass obviously speaks english well enough to understand the words coming out of my mouth if you cared to remember them.
Then he shows me a map of the area and says I can "try here, but you better hurry because the bus leaves in 20 minutes." Then tells me I SHOULD HAVE PRE REGISTERED ONLINE.

At this point I am ready to punch this dick in the throat and beat him over the head with his laptop.
Mind you, they never bothered to refund me the extra 500 baht I paid for him to show me a fucking map.
So, I put my bag on, haul ass down the street and run into a couple hashers who point me in the direction of a better and cheaper place that is also much closer. I go, pay for 2 nights (cost, 500 baht), throw on my red dress under my clothes and run back to the welcome site only to find the RDR circle had finished only a few minutes prior while I was getting my room. Woot...
I go to the beer area for a much needed beer, only to discover they are CHARGING FOR BEER!? 50 baht a cup.
Ok, it's day one, I have already spent 6000 baht and I am getting charged for beer? Class, can anyone tell me what's wrong with this picture?

So, still wearing my red dress under my clothes I get on the bus to the first night's event. If you attended the train to Chiang Mai for Interhash 2006, it was the same thing. Great traditional Thai food, a spectacular showcase put on by the city, speech by the mayor, etc.
This had the chance to improve my mood with only one flaw. No beer at the event. I guess regs were changed recently that barred alcohol from the old city site. Here I met Hasher Eliah (sp?), a chap from the Carolina's who had only started hashing a couple months prior. Having the being young and from the U.S. thing in common, we took a seat and watched the show. Much like Europe, almost every hasher I have met so far is over 40. Unlike Europe, there are a lot of expats with younger Asian ladies for girlfriends or wives. It's a cultural thing, I am not dismissing it, but just making a note. Please don't take those past couple sentences as a negative.

Ok, back to the event.
We arrived back at the welcome site where the beer was flowing, this time for free. There was a trio of singers/dancers on a small stage (including an incredibly cute Philippina of Spanish descent named Francesca who I got the opportunity to chat with later), and things seemed to settle into standard hash mingling, with the one exception being that when the dancers/singers left and the hashers took turns on stage, the crowd just didn't seem to care about being involved.
As people left, Eliah, Bimbo, a couple other hashers and myself were sitting around with the last of the beer in pitchers on the table just chatting into the night. The taps were closed by the Tiger Beer girls earlier in the night. As we ran out of beer, Eliah went to take a piss and on his way back discovered that the kegs were not untapped, only turned off. So, without an inkling of guilt (6000 baht, remember), we turned the taps back on and continued to drink until the early morning... At some point in the night someone asked the now drunk and heavily swearing Eliah where he was from.
Before he could answer, I jumped in and said he was from Canada. This began an entire weekend of Eliah pretending to be a "fucking Canadian, eh!" I will get back to that later.
Bimbo also recognized that we were the only ones left, so he suggested I create a group on Hashspace to celebrate those who continue to drink, even after everyone else has left. I thought up the name, L.O.St (Last Ones Standing) and made a point to create the group next time I was on Hashspace.
At roughly 4 a.m. we all parted ways back to our hotels to ready for trail at 1 p.m. the next day.

European Finale

2008-10-23T23:20:00.001-07:00

So this is coming in a bit late (about a week and a half late...), but
with a major hash weekend on my toes in Thailand, I need to get this
finally closed up.
Hash-wise I felt there just isn't much to add, which is why this post
took so long. I ran with the B.I.T.CH (Because it's Tuesday,
Switzerland) on (you guessed it, Tuesday) where the hare took us on an
excellently long trail through the backside of Zurich and up, over and
around some wicked mountain biking trails in the mountainous hills
surrounding the town.
It was almost pitch black, making an otherwise well marked trail
difficult to follow. I was lucky with a light and a little hash zen.
Durexxell wasn't, zipping right past me in the dark he slipped off the
trail and damn near fell Victor/ia like off the hill. I was right
behind him though and was able to give him a hand back up.
The consequences of his fall, a cracked rib and chipped tooth. The man
still ran...
Afterwards we had doner kebabs then me and Moose stopped by Chainsaw'z
place where he left us with a batch of his 'cookies' which finished
where the beer left off.
That was my final hash in Switzerland, but there was another week
before my flight out. What to do?
Well, first off, the running along the Rhine is excellent and I
explored it to the fullest. From the waterfall to the farms to the TV
broadcast tower atop the large hill across the river. I ran about 8k
eevery couple of days.
What else? Well there was a cute blonde bartendress working at a
nearby place called Champs. She was calling me 'crazy-man' within my
first week there and after a bit of work (re:lot) she finally agreed
to meet me for Chinese food on her last day working there before her
shift. I got the time and showed up the next day to wait...
Turns out the language barrier effed it all up. What she said to me
sounded like, "Half past 6." but what she meant was half-to 6 or...
5:30.
So, we basically stood each other up. Highly disappointing, but what
can one do? Once that was figured out we both said, "Shizen." and that
was that.
On this past Tuesday I left for Bangkok with a flight change in Doha, Qatar.
Now I'm on a bus to Sukothai for the mekong 2008 event. On-On

German made

2008-10-12T09:48:00.000-07:00

I finally made it to a "true" hashing trail in Switzerland with the Schaffhausen H3. There was just one slight flaw as the trail was actually in Singen, Germany, which is literally right over the border between the two countries.
Bringing my passport (which I didn't end up needing, but better safe than sorry, right?), Moose Diver and I met up with Happy Chappy and Skippy Gonzales on the train to Singen and arrived to see the hares DureXXel and Sweet Maori arriving from having laid trail, arms (well at least DureXX's) caked in flour. Shortly thereafter Swans (a hash transfer from Penang and India) came up, introduced himself and we all started off on trail.
Even for a Friday hash, you might expect it to be a lighter trail as we didn't start until after dark. But, in true hash spirit, Maori went with full gusto for her virgin laying of trail, taking us from the train stop, around the backside of the small town's center and then up-up-up a cross winding trail leading to the top of a nearby hill (i.e. small mountain...) where we circled up amidst the ruins of an old fortress that was the victim of Napoleon's lust for conquering neighboring nations back in the 1800's. All in all it was roughly 8k, not counting the extra half mile I ran trying to shortcut in the completely wrong direction. What I don't know is if this included the bleedin' walk back DOWN the mountain to get to the on-after.
The whole scene (during circle) was remarkably eerie, with (I kid you not) what sounded like a screeching woman coming from deeper in the ruins (we didn't check and the main part was behind large sharp gates anyway).
I hope to get back there before I leave for Asia and take some pictures as it is roughly 20 minutes by train.
In other news, I went into Bern to apply for a visa to India only to run into a major stumbling block. The jokers want 145 franks (roughly 130 dollars US) for the visa. Tag that onto the 800 dollar plane flight and another 150+ to go back to Bern (twice) on the train to give them the required photos+flight confirmation+proof of finances and I'm looking at over 1000 dollars just to get INTO the country.
Obviously this is completely ridiculous, especially since the website said it would only be 60 franks for the visa.
As a result I am switching my plans. On Monday I will set up a flight into a major hub of Asia (most likely Bangkok, Thailand where ticket prices start at much closer to 600) and start my asian travels from there. As I get closer south, if I get near India, I will attempt a border crossing then where I expect it will be much cheaper.
I suspect I will be here in Switzerland another two weeks to shoot for a cheaper ticket from a nearby major airport (Munich most likely). I can't really complain too much though for the wait. Outside of the absolutely ridiculous cost of everything here (which is apparantly made up for with the rate of pay and extremely low taxes), I'm learning some basic Deutch and the bartendress next door calls me 'crazy man' and winks at me frequently enough. I could see living here if I can find gainful (self?) employment after my trip is done.
Now excuse me, I have Top Ramen to cook and I need to check on my clothes washing in the bathtub.

Swiss Miss

2008-10-05T03:52:00.000-07:00

Damn good instant hot chocolate while camping, but I haven't met any.
So right now I'm in Switzerland, following an on the whim invite from a Schaffhausen H3 hasher named Moose Diver on my final night in Munich.
Schaffhausen is this small (roughly 3,000 people?) town smack dab in I don't really know where the hell I am land that is roughly 3 kilometers from the most massive waterfall in Europe. It's not exactly tall (23 meters in full), but it is a good 125 meters wide and the amount of water that goes over is nothing short of mind blowing. Walking the hills alongside it is the only way to understand the sheer power of this damn thing. Take the largest wave you've ever seen (that hasn't drowned an island and created mass devastation), multiply it by 50 and imagine it continually in the state of crashing on the beach. Immense, powerful, and if I were of better mind, probably scary.
Instead I conjured up the entirely ridiculous notion of imagining what it would be like to raft that sonuvabitch. Nothing that I would follow through on (no death wish here), but the idea is intriguing. Apparently a few years ago an Australian and an American did just that, were fished out of the water on the other side beaten to a bloody pulp and lucky to be alive. Then were promptly arrested and had to pay their hospital and rescue bill.
Been there before, don't plan on repeating.
Well, that's enough of that, time to rewind back to the hash.
Tuesday night, still reeling with a sore throat from Munich and sucking on lozenges to stay the hurt, Moose and I took the train into Winterthur to hash with B.I.T.C.H.3, officially referred to as a non-hash by another Switzerland hash because they don't hold circle and just slip into a food providing establishment after trail (similar to Phoenix's Hump Hash).
The trail however was mighty and quite good. The hare (also a touch ill from whatever bug is going around this fall) stuck mainly to forest trails, but wasn't afraid to venture off into the bush, which led to briars, nettle, mud and fun.
Battled down from the weekend prior I decided to walk with fellow Munich victim (via knee blow out) Likk'mm and we punched through the entirety of trail in an impressive 2 hours. Only impressive because the Drink Stop was hidden out of the way and we somehow passed the runners and arrived at the On-In a full 10 minutes before anyone else. Topped off by them not even finishing trail and taking the tram to the finish from the Drink Stop.
I ate wild boar and drank heffe to get some local food in my gullet.

Yesterday was the Zurich H3's hash, and while I did trail, I can't really say I did the hash.
With trail at 3, I figured I could catch a train at 1:30 at the latest and still swing into Waddeswil in time to hit trail.
Instead I missed the train because the ticket que was so long. No biggie, I can catch the next train and last minute it.
Purchased my ticket and waited... waited... waited... The damn ICE train was almost 20 minutes later than it was supposed to be. As a result I missed the last train into the town trail started in by a good 10 minutes.
Not wanting to waste the 20 franks I put into a ticket to Zurich, I tried to get the next ticket to Waddeswil, only to run into another ticket line issue. I said, "fuck it" and just hopped on the train which got me to trail a good hour after it started. Ok, I've caught up before in this type of mishap, just never in a town I don't know.
I spent half an hour looking for trail (the start acted as a check and wasn't marked), then once I found it, ran directly into a false.
Cursing and glaring, I just started to randomly walk up and down streets, hoping that the rain hadn't washed the flour away and I could find something of trail.
Eventually I did, and started following it, up a long and steep hill, cresting at the top with a hare arrow pointing the opposite way.
I made my way back along trail, was waylaid by a couple falses, but continued to find and follow trail (it was well marked once I actually found it), until I arrived at what I can only guess was the On-In. I wouldn't know for sure though as by this time another hour+ had passed and anyone who would've been there was long gone.
Thoroughly beaten, I walked back to the train station, purchased a ticket back to Shaffhausen and took a seat. Good thing too because about 5 stops into the journey the train was raided (there were no less than 10 people, I swear) by train authorities who were tossing out fines left and right for people with no tickets.
I was apparently on the wrong train, but since I could transfer from the next stop to the correct train and I obviously didn't have a clue about the system, they sorted me on where I needed to be and let me go.
If you're wondering where my host, Moose Diver was during all of this, he was haring a trail in Munich. As far as I know he's still there.
Coming back off the train I stopped by the local pub (all of 10 meters from Moose's place) and had a couple well deserved pints.
A couple ladies have asked me how long I'll be in Schaffhausen, but with the prices here, I really hope to have a solid travel plan to India in the next week unless I can get hooked up with a little mexicano style work here.

Mein Gött

2008-10-02T05:27:00.000-07:00

Lederhosen, lederhosen, lederhosen everywhere (that means leather pants, leather pants, leather pants everywhere).
I arrived in Munich Wednesday evening, catching the last not-full train in from Copenhagen.
Just Chris (now Paula the Bastard) met me at the station and we took the metro back to his place, dropping off my bag and setting up his couch for me to sleep on.
I spent the next day organizing myself with a 3 day metro pass and exploring the neighborhood before meeting up with Chris and heading to the tents to explore Oktoberfest.
Unable to find anything that wasn't beyond capacity already, we grabbed a bite to eat from one of the food booths and hunkered down at a wheat beer stand to commence in imbibing and catching up on whatever the hell we'd been up to since Prague's event weekend while taking in the atmosphere of an event that is something like the Orange County fair times eight gazillion. It is almost intimidating to walk around in the midst of tens of thousands of people, almost all in full dress (guys in lederhosen, gals in dinkuls: spelling is wrong, I know), staggering in a semi-coherent fashion around while singing football songs and what-not.
Beside us at the table were several older Englishmen who were doing just that, swaying back and forth, singing some song about beer.
I turn to Chris and say, "Watch, I'm going to try and get them to sing a hash song. Something simple..." turn to the gents as they finish their number and start up with, "More beer, more beer, more beer, more beer...." (to the tune of aud lang syn) which has an immediate effect (just not my intended one) as the drunkest of the chaps stares me right and the eye and says,
"Lennon?"
Then points to his mate (whilst still staring me directly in the eye) and says,
"Issat Lennon?"
before continuing drink, at which point I just turn away, look at Chris and we just bust up laughing.
A few minutes (and another beer) later, two younger Irish lads ask if they can share our standing table, we say sure and we get into a conversation about something or rather. I really cannot recall what we were talking about, but suffice to say it was hilarious at the time.
On our way back out of the tents, I convince Chris that the best damn thing to do when you're drunk (or at least buzzed) is to go into a Fun House, we do so, and I get lost in the mirror maze for a good 10 minutes. It seems bad, but somehow I made it out before a LOT of others did. We stood outside the exit and just laughed our asses off at the absurdity of it all, then headed home to prepare for the first night of Munich H3's Oktoberfest weekend.
The next day I met my boarder at the registration area, picking up our goody bags and meeting many many hashers (several of which I had also ran into at Prague's weekend. Good, people I know.).
We all drank our two free beers then headed outside to gather in a circle and await the start of trail.
It was cold, it was wet, it was so foggy you couldn't realistically see 500 meters in front of you. Still, it was a great inner city run that somehow managed to provide a fair amount of off pavement trail, a jog past the Olympic stadium and a beer check atop a magnificently large hill with an (almost) view of the entire city.
Galumphing back down, we had circle in a city park with circle marked out with tiki torches. Here Jumper gave me one of the temporary tattoos on my inner thigh, resulting in I'm sure, some very compromising pictures despite the fact my member was perfectly secure in my running shorts.
Beer was drunk, circle was held, we were all freezing and so, with a bow to Swing Low, we gathered up our beer and moved back to the restaurant where we all started to consume more liquid libations and procure the rego included meal. A delicious spread of meat, rice and something else that I wasn't sure what it was, but quite good.
I had a feeling that I was going to have trouble with my system over the weekend that night, but with the reservations at the tent the next day I decided to just go with it and drink.
Showing up to the early as all hell start (re: 10 a.m.), we met the pack on the outskirts of Munich and after throwing our bags in the Beer Truck, we took off on trail.
Running past some children playing soccer while the pack was confounded by the hare (we were actually on trail backwards from the start in an A to A snafu), I asked them if I could take a shot on goal. They kicked me the ball and I made a prompt fall on my ass as I had no idea the grass was as wet as it was. Rumple Foreskin got it on his camera. yay.
Then trail was found, we were running through this beautiful farm countryside, with a cut field on one side and a harvester taking in the field on the other. We then went down a trail into the forest. We went up, down, along slick ridge lines and past poking trees. The green was the lushest I've ever seen and the smell of the wet timber was just amazing. I think it may damn well have been the best forest trail I've been on yet.
And then, the manure.
We came around a bend and entered an open area with the opposite side (right where trail was heading around) piled high with horse shit. Not only that, but it was still steaming!
A few more bends, a wrong turn here and there and we slipped under a bridge and arrived on the rocky banks of a wide riverbank where the beer check was waiting.
I could feel my throat starting to go, but damn all, I joined in the song check, drank another bottle and then competed with a few other hashers on who could skip a stone across the river until the pack was off again.
Next up was the monastery. We shortcut a bit across these maroon fields of harvested plants before coming into the inner cloister and across the flower gardens.
At the other side of the monastery we came to the bottom of a very steep hill. It looked like a road, but it was dirt and I had a hard time seeing any car that would be able to climb it without at least 4 wheel drive (6 wheel?).
Chugging our tired asses up the hill, we arrived at the top, right near where we were going the wrong way at the beginning of the hash and simply followed it to the On-In where food and beer was waiting.
Circle was lively and full of silliness, including poor Slap Head's pantsing at my hands when he got called into circle for what looked like getting a hard on while singing.
Given that I snuck up behind him in circle, yanked his shorts and then ran back to my spot, I don't know what the front was like, but from what I was told the look on his face was: mortified.
He pulled up his shorts, walked past me on his way to a spot in circle and slugged me right in the chest. I'll admit it, I deserved it. Rumple Foreskin told me that Spare Rib would've been proud. Awesome.
I went back to Chris' place, showered, changed and then went to the Oktoberfest tent, meeting up with Fuck of Finland and her sister Ball Sucker at the entrance along with every other hasher including Pump Friction and his wife (him a former Vegas hasher, they had their hash wedding in the Littlest Chapel in the West, now living in Italy).
we all found our places in the tent, with me holding post right on the end bench, a perfect spot for getting the steins and half-a-chicken that was coming our way.
As the night went on, we drank another stein (or two), held singing contests with the Italians at the table next to us, and just had a damn merry 'ol time until the end when things went slightly fubar.
I can't say I know what exactly went on as by this point I was laying on a bench getting beer poured into my mouth by harriettes (I think?). But apparantely someone was pushed, Pump and his wife dodged out exceedingly quickly, security was crawling all over and Fuck of Finland and her friend were knocked to the ground in a domino effect that bruised them quite badly (glad to say though they are both ok).
By the time I was sitting up it was just me, Footloose and Panty Free, Sex Reject and Slap Head who suggested a ride challenge.
Sure, we all got up, stumbled to the swinging chair ride and had a blast before moving onto the next bar as the tent was now closed.
I honestly remember little else except that I felt like burping but more than air came up.
I rinsed my shirt off in the bathroom of this unknown place I was in, excused myself from the rest of the group and went outside.
It was freezing cold so instead of putting my shirt on, I just tucked it into my pants and walked to the S-bahn station to get back to Chris's place only to find out the trains stopped running twenty minutes prior.
Next up, find a cab. But they all wanted 50 euro for a ride that should be no more than 10. I told them they were trying to rip me off, I wasn't a sucker and they were assholes, then walked into the main train station, into the Burger King where I used their hand dryer to dry off my shirt while the asshole bathroom attendents were spraying me with air freshener.
I slept that night on the station floor (there were about 100 people doing this, so at least I wasn't bothered by security) waiting for the trains.
The next morning, roughly 5:00, I headed outside again to try the trains, more cold than before.
I waited a good 10 minutes for the first train, then jumped on and took what seemed like a very long ride back to the station near Chris' place.
I slid in the front door, kicked off my shoes and stepped in the shower, rinsing my clothes out and washing them as best I could with my shampoo before showering myself and coming out to get some sleep.
I think it may have been the worst night of my trip.
All of 15 minutes later Chris pokes his head into the living room and says we'll need to be ready to leave for the hangover trail pretty soon and if I want some tea.
I take the tea and tell him I'll meet him at circle, then went back to sleep for another hour or so.
With no hangover, but damn sure I'm sick, I show up to circle while it is in full thrust, realizing that even with my malcontentious evening, I was the only one from my group of four that actually made Sunday's hash in some form. Only after it is all said and done did Sex Reject show up saying that they all got kicked out of the bar at 3:30 a.m. (closing time), and Slap Head made it all of 10 meters before exploding all over the place. Cool, I didn't puke alone.
I followed the hashers for the rest of the day and into the night, being very careful not to repeat the prior night's idiocy. A stein at a beer garden and after getting some chicken with Ball Sucker (a very cute Finnish girl I would've liked to get to know more), headed back into the tent to have another stein.
As the night died down and hashers left, I took off myself, knowing I had a lot of recovering to do.
Now I'm in Switzerland, being brought here by Moose Diver on a suggestion the last night in the tents if I wanted to hash in this country. Sure, why not?
I definitely got sick, and have spent the last 3 days making (what Moose Diver refers to) a Lazarus like recovery courtesy of salad, fruit juice and Ramen.
I hashed with the BITCH3 on Tuesday, but more about that next post.

How I learned to stop worrying and love the chicken

2008-09-26T04:20:00.000-07:00

Arriving in Berlin from Kiev, I found that the hash wasn't running until Sunday. That gave me exactly no time to make it up to Copenhagen to make their hash and return their beloved Kylie, the hottest chick in Copenhagen.
You see, back in Atlanta, via Chatanooga and Birmingham, I was able to hash with the illustrious Hugh Heifer, who had a gift for me in the form of a small (maybe a couple beer cans in size) fuzzy chicken, the kind you would see in a Walgreens or Rite Aid that played a song when you pressed the button on its wing and then danced around in a silly fashion.
He had acquired this chicked, named Kylie, when someone (unbeknownst to him) had placed it in his luggage at Interhash Perth. All he knew was this kidnapped chick belonged in Denmark with the Copenhagen hash and damnit, it needed to get home!
After hearing about my ambitious plans to gallavant around the globe, he asked if I would take Kylie along. Being the somewhat (yeah right?) decent hume that I am, I said sure, why not? Tossed Kylie in my hash bag and continued on my merry way, expecting to drop the Chick off in a pass-thru within a month.
Little did I know that my U.S. travels would take almost two more months of hashing, camping and what-not. All the while, anytime my stuff shifted in the back of my car from turning too hard, or if I was careless in my packing, Kylie would be there to remind me of her presence by breaking out into glorious song.
Then came the airport. Not wanting to have an unpleasant stay in security I carefully removed Kylie's battery and packed her away in my bag, not knowing when, but only that I was now on a mission, not just a task.
Over the next month and a half, Kylie rode along, a silent passenger in my luggage. Coming out every now and then for a brief photo-op along the way. The astrological clock in Prague, the River Liffy in Dublin, with some Oktoberfest ladies in Berlin. I think there are 40 some pictures in my camera of this Chicken with various international landmarks. Far more than of myself (granted I've been the one holding the camera for almost every pic, one of the caveats of traveling alone).
Then the time came. I had a week's lapse between Kiev's Full Moon Hash and Munich for Oktoberfest. I had kind of figured that I would be returning Kylie after the Beerfest, but now was a chance to visit Denmark and return her, eating up a chunk of otherwise spare time.
I booked my ticket to Berlin, acting as a hub for travel to Copenhagen and then to Munich, then proceeded to e-mail and use Hashspace to announce Kylie's homecoming.
Crashspace was procured, a welcoming party was arranged and after three nights in Berlin, I had a ticket to Copenhagen and following an eight hour train ride, Kylie would be home!
I stepped off the train at Kobenhaven H station (there's some missing marks on those previous letters) and walked toward the stairs to see a man, Codpiece, in a Perth Interhash shirt. I shouted, "On-On!" and thrust Kylie in one of his hands while shaking the other. We walked to a nearby local pub where about five hashers were already gathered. Fire in the Ho, Red Carpet and others. Rounds were bought, beer was drunk and Kylie was restored to life as Codpiece replaced the missing battery removed over a month prior.
As we sat and drank local brews and stews, the local musician for the pub brought in his keyboard and plucked away as two old guys (one in drag) sang various classic Danish drinking songs such as... (like I know any Danish, so the hell if I knew what the songs were).
The Codpiece got us all up and we moved on to take a couple more pictures of Kylie in the middle of Copenhagen's red light district. One in front of a tattoo shop with a sign reading, "Yes, it hurts."
One in front of a giant dildo, and one in front of our next stop, "Spunk Bar."
After another couple of beers, I packed Kylie away for the official presentation at the Monday hash and we all went our separate ways, myself following Fire in the Ho to her place where she had a guest room for me.
Arriving at Monday's hash, the Kiev weather seemed to follow, it was damn cold and there was a misty drizzle in the air. The kind of rain where you wish the clouds would simply open up and deluge the city, to get the damn thing over with. Instead it was a consistent light drizzle. Enough that within the first 10 minutes of the hash we were all soaked.
Trail, laid by Her Holynose, was a brief city affair that took us through the twists and turns of the Copenhagen suburbs. FRB's were getting consistently fucked though as the hare continued the remarkable tradition I've run into on pre-lays in the EU where she walked with the walkers, sweeping, and then would mark and re-mark portions of trail as she went along.
After an hour or so of not seeing trail, or coming across falses that came in from a different direction than we were going, a couple of the FRB's and myself just aimed for the On-In which was, fortunately, at the start.
Over the next ten minutes or so, other hashers started to arrive. We pulled out the beer, I pulled out my vessel and Kylie, then we proceeded to jabber about whatever until the RA started circle.
I got pulled in for being a visitor, then I got pulled in again to officially return Kylie home. They started her song, placed her in the circle, then snapped photos until Baby Blow Job's dog jumped into circle, grabbed Kylie by the wing and took off running and shaking its head!
Kylie made it across the world, only to get attacked by a vicious dog the instant she arrived at her home hash...
Fortunately, Kylie was rescued shortly after and with no visible damage. The dog was put on probation and Baby Blow Job was given a down-down for her misbehaving mutt.
Her Holynose was brought in, apparantly this was her 25th hare and she had been reminding mis-management for damn near a month so she could get her 25th hare shirt.
She was given a down-down for being overly persistent, then another to present to her the shirt.
Then I got pulled in again, given a giant drinking horn brimming with beer and was presented with a shirt for bringing Kylie home. Not just any shirt though. This shirt is the one usually given to Copenhagen hashers who are leaving their beloved homeland for other shores.
In short, I was made an honorary Viking Wanker of the Copenhagen Hash! (my High School mascot was the Vikings, coincidence? Yes.)
I drank my beer from the viking horn-taking longer than I think most of them would-before tipping the now empty vessel over my head... who said head?
Circle concluded, not with hash hymn number one, but with CH3's own closing song. One to which I knew none of the words to, but enjoyed just the same.
On-On.

Howling at the Mooooooon!

2008-09-19T02:59:00.000-07:00

On the combination of a whim and an invite from one Big Akula at the Prague 24th Anniversary/888/Red Dress Run I ventured into Kiev, Ukraine to attend the Kiev H3's first ever Full Moon Hash!
So, after the half-marathon in Budapest, I booked a train ticket and took the day and a half trip farther East than I have ever been.
Big Akula was delayed in Kosovo with work, so he set me up with the generous Beer King so I'd have a place to stay upon my arrival.
I was waiting outside of the train station, when a bear of a man (teddy? grizzly? Chicago?) walked up in my peripheral vision, stared intently at my Hash necklace and shook my hand. The one, the only, Beer King had found me!
After a quick beer, we took a marvelous Metro system (damn near half a mile underground and with lobby style areas that looked like the ceilings of some of the castles I have visited. Very impressive!
From there we took a shifty mini-bus outside of the main city to his apartment where he warned me beforehand that his place was a pretty standard 3rd world country place and I should be prepared mentally for what it looked like.
Now, I've stayed in some pretty touchy places, so I wasn't too concerned, but this was definitely held its own charm.
I'm going to take a(nother) moment here to state that this blog is more about observations than opinions. Sure I have my views on things (we all do), but my aim is certainly not to offend and I am grateful for every host I have had (and hopefully will have) and hope to repay in kind when the opportunity arises.
With that out of the way, I have to say that staying outside of Kiev has presented me the unique opportunity to see what it is like to live in a place with low economic income and a poor governmental infastructure. It kind of reminded me of Compton in the early 90's, replete with the music but minus the guns.
Tagging was highly present, the playgrounds were filled with either broken play structures or simply overgrown and EVERYONE smokes (except for Beer King, which was awesome since I don't smoke either!). Apparently cigarettes aren't really taxed like they are in the States, so they're extremely cheap and there's little to no monitoring by the government so stores just sell them to anyone. The result is that it's not uncommon to see eight year olds sitting in the playground puffing away.
In Beer King's apartment, the shower also doubled as a dishwasher, hand sink and well, pretty much anything that involved water except for the toilet. The building was clearly falling apart, but without Government involvement there is little anyone can do as it would cost Beer King close to $5000 to fix his place to standard, but like a lot of people, he's looking for work.
Speaking of which, he's an excellent Ukrainian/Russian to English (and vice versa) translator, so if you know anyone who needs those services and want to hook a hasher up, he's on Hashspace.
That night we had a traditional Ukrainian dinner of marinated herring, mashed potatoes and tomato with some local beer, then went to sleep with plans to meet up with Big Akula the next day to discuss the Full Moon trail.

We all met at the Golden Gate pub, an Irish bar owned by a former hasher named Hannibal the Cannibal (he looks almost exactly like the character played by Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs!) and along with Unfinnished Symphony, we drove to the park where trail was to be held, walked around and planned out a fairly low key jaunt that basically went around the park, but a touch in the middle to give it some off pavement feel. I optioned to make it a tad more difficult, but Akula was afraid that the typical Kiev pack would get lost and not want to do more Full Moon trails in the future. Fair enough, it's not my trail. As it started to rain we met up again with Unfinnished Symphony and drove back to the pub where we had a couple more beers before departing in a lightly drizzling rain.

The next day we all arrived, chilled by the fall night air and eager to feel the damp grass under our swiftly moving feet from the rain which stopped falling mere hours before, leaving a break in the clouds, through which the white of the full moon shone down on us below.
The pack circled, names were called out and RA Flash Crash blessed the hares in a pope-esque outfit and sent them off with a wave of his toilet wand.
All of two minutes later the walkers followed and us runners (all 4 of us) waited another three before following a well laid trail of... get this, GLOWSTICK BRACELETS!
Nope, no flour for this full moon we were chasing dropped glowing rave favors, howling at the moon every couple of hundred feet or so as we jaunted along, much to the surprise and amazement of the Ukrainian students that we passed by!
As we neared the other end of the park, we sighted the hares, waiting patiently at the beer check as if we took too damn long and a few minutes later the walkers arrived at which point we all joined in on drinking and jabbering about who knows what.
The hares took off again and I led the group in a sing-a-long of Singin' in the Rain before we followed trail again, this time being made more difficult by passing students who kept picking up trail.
With a mad dash to the end, myself and Toto (visiting harriette from NYC) were FRB's followed closely by Atomic Fiddler and Flash Crash.
We had a grand circle in the cold where two hashers got named, Supersonic Leather and Dirty Knees (the latter being my suggestion-yay, I've named a hasher in another continent now!), then transported to the Golden Gate for more beer and a couple games of pool.
All in all it was a successful first Full Moon run, though trail could have been much longer and more difficult. But, that's for next time, right!?

sixty-eight, sixty-nine

2008-09-09T01:05:00.000-07:00

A number of significance, if only to me.
I arrived in Budapest roughly 6 days ago, e-mailing the hash ahead of time. I got a response, but it was pretty lackluster, a reiteration of where trail was meeting and a hopeful forward of it to their groups page to see if I could get a couch somewhere.
4 days later I hadn't heard anything from anyone and I had pretty much done "tourist" Buda and "tourist" Pest to the degree I could afford.
Then I found out there was a half-marathon being run on the same day as the hash (and regrettably over the same time frame).
I fired off another e-mail, basically giving a day's notice that I would miss the hash and asked if they were doing anything later that day or had a beer stop on course, then signed up for the half-marathon the next day.
The number I got, 6869.
Coincidence? Hardly, I specifically asked for that number.
The damn thing was pricey, but it included admission to Budapest's famous Baths afterwards and that was the one thing I had decided was out of my price range originally.
So, throwing the prospect of new shoes out the window, I went back to my hostel to register for another couple nights only to find out they were closing for the season.
Shit.
Oh well, I packed up my stuff, and the next morning (Sunday, Sunday, Sunday) I walked the three kilometers to the start in my running clothes with the rest on my back, never hearing from the hash.
After tossing stuff in storage, I had a beer and went to the race start to wait for the take-off.
Two hours, four minutes and 33 seconds later I crossed the finish line.
I won't be breaking any records, but I'm content in that I finished with basically no training (the last distance I've run that's non-hash related was the Las Vegas Marathon back in December) and that I wasn't one of the several who had heart attacks on the course as a result of the 100 degree heat that day!
Getting in from the run, I stopped by the Nike tent to share a beer with a gent who I met the day prior and is sponsored by the company. Yay, beer!
Then I went and soaked in the heated pools of the Baths for an hour or so, got changed and went searching for a new hostel, only getting the last room available in the last one I checked as most every other hostel in the bloody city is either closed for the season or full.
Yep! Hostel is an excellent choice if you're ever in Budapest.
After cleaning up and changing and taking a well deserved nap, I proceeded to go to Iguana, a Mexican restaurant owned by a cousin of sorts that lives out here. He's out of town, but they were kind enough to make me a guest of the house, which was a definite bonus for some excellent food! I hear the restaurant won, "best mexican restaurant in budapest" or something along those lines. I can see why!
So, today I'm off to the train station to get a ticked to Kiev, Ukraine. This should prove interesante.

Prague 888; Sundee

2008-09-04T01:10:00.000-07:00

Gah it was early in the morning for a hash. 10, bloody, a.m.
We arrived at the start which was by a statue on the other side of the garden hill where all the monks do/did their thing.
B-van, more beer, group photo, then we went on our way with the same runners/walkers set-up as last time. The only difference being that they were actually separate trails!?!?
I brought my Bison Piss Vodka with me and did my best to stay FRB, only falling behind Quick Czech, who (as his name implies) is stupid fast. So fast he actually won some competitive triathalon a couple days before, becoming the fastest Czech in the region. Bloody hell.
About 2 miles in, I pulled off to the side of trail, right where I thought a beer stop should be (as there were no beer stops on this hangover trail), and started pouring cap shots to all the hashers who passed (and about three for myself). Yes, shot check number 1!
Then, as the DFL's finished their drink, I took off again, with aims to be FRB once more and perform a second shot check, finishing off the bottle. I came close, but a few of those FRB's were just too darn hard to catch, so I gave up punishing myself on this big ass hill we were hashing up and just pulled off to the side by a park bench (I figure I covered at least another mile and a half from the first shot check) and started shot check number 2!
Fewer hashers imbibed this time, so I didn't quite finish the bottle when we ended near the top by a pond with a poor statue of a seal who Neptune stripped, swam to, then molested severely.
We carted everything down from the B-van, apples, beer, bagels, beer and beer until Bouncing Czech started circle and we all proceeded to do down-downs for various reasons.
Then each of the visiting RA's got to run a section of circle, calling out their own infractions.
Spare Rib packing taped me to a light post. I almost broke free when beer was placed in front of me, only succeeding in the other direction when Spare Rib mooned me...
All in all it was an amazing circle with a load of great hashers to have made friends with. I taught some new songs and learned some new ones myself. Even met Smartarse, who (I've been told) was the one who started the "How would, you like..." song.
Afterwards we hiked a ways down the hill, ate some great (but a touch expensive) food, then went our separate ways.
The next day I met up with Goldilocks, Puking Cougar, Just Tim and Tailgate and we went to a traditional Czech pub for traditional Czech food and beer. As the rest left, Goldi and I wandered bar to bar, drinking until pissed around 11 at night (pissed means drunk!). I bid him adieu, then went back to my new hostel room for my last night in Prague.
The next day I took a train to Kutna Hora to see an Ossuary (bone church), where this entire church is decorated with human bones. Quite cool... Then couldn't find a new hostel in the area, took a train back to Prague where I immediately booked the next ticket to Budapest. an 8 hour overnight train ride, where I slept rather uncomfortably (but slept) until about six a.m.
As of now, I've been in contact with the Prague hash, they run trail on Sundays, but this same Sunday is the Prague half-marathon. I'll admit I'm a little torn. I think it'd be cooler to do a half-marathon in Prague, but the 100 euro fee is a touch off-putting. Not to mention that my shoes are starting to get in piss-poor shape.
Decisions, decisions.

Prague 888; Saturdee

2008-09-04T00:44:00.000-07:00

Catching the Metro to the outskirts of the city, I met with close to 100 other hashers and we proceeded to rehydrate with beer by degrees until Bouncing Czech sent us on our way. There was a Runner and Walker trail, but for the most part the runner trail was basically being sent out looking for a check until the walkers caught up and then we all got called to follow the walkers trail. Sound confusing? Gah!
However, about halfway through the runners actually split from the walkers and we went up this large incline to the top of a hill, running through forests on hiker and goat paths and the like. Even crossing through a giant field of harvested something, which (from a distance) gave the pack a sort of surreal, film-like experience. Only about three of us got to see the rest of the pack like that though as we went checking in the wrong direction and ended up on the other side of this massive space.
Catching up, we returned to hill paths through forests until we broke through the trees to the top where an abandoned campsite (note to self if I ever make it back there...) in a clearing gave way to a spectacular view of Prague and another neighboring city to the right. Barring smog, you could see for miles. At least 10.
Giving my knee a great fuck off on the way down the steep hill, we returned to forest trails, past flour arrows that pointed into open wells and onto train tracks, following Bouncing Czech's calls of "No, it's not that way, turn left, you'll see trail in about 100 meters!"
All of which turned out to be true. Insider information?
We arrived at a small creek where trail crossed and went to the right. BC said that we don't have to cross, just go right and we'll be fine. What happened to honor the hare? Whatever, I'm on my last pair of hash shoes. Hell, only pair of shoes.
A hundred meters or so down the way, around a small bend was the first beer stop, with three cases of creek chilled brew awaiting us. I helped to drag it all up to the bridge and we stopped and chatted for whatever amount of time, cha-cha-cha.
On we went, down a long and wide winding road, past tiny playgrounds, people with dogs the size of small horses and various automobiles (!?) until we came to a small pond with two swans swimming about. We all took in the view for a minute and then about 6 of us stripped and jumped in the chilling water. Scaring the poor swans, but enjoying the bond of swimming in probably not properly clean water, oh well.
The rest of the pack took off, so we (after finding one hasher's sunglasses with our feet) came to shore, put our shirts, shoes and socks back on, then shared a small bottle of Bratavolka (Czech liquor) as a toast to our greatness before continuing on the next short bit to beer check number two, Cha-cha-cha.
After the second beer check, I walked and talked with Rumple Foreskin (one of several on hashspace, but he's a D.R.I.F.T.E.R. hasher who knows Rock Hard) for quite a while on the last bit of trail, where we went across a smaller field, up forest hill paths and such until we concluded at a spot that my memory doesn't hold so well (go figure). Had circle, then all went back to our relative crash space to prepare for that evening's party.

In typical hasher fashion, we all boarded the same bloody metro, which helped immensely in finding the place with all the foreign street names and metro stops. The theme was "visitors to Prague Castle" and we showed up in various bits of non-costume (or full costume for a select few) to eat, drink, dance and be merry. There was even a raffle!
The three course meal consisted of smoked herring (excellent), something reminiscent of Chicken Cordon Bleu, and a bread pudding type dessert with ice cream. We also got 2 kegs of beer to drink dry (average about 2-3 beer apiece) and another 4 drink tickets for beverages of our choice (choice!). Somewhere mid-way they held the costume contest. I was in more of my "a night out in general" clothes, but by undoing an extra 3 buttons, shlocking up my hair a tad and gyrating constantly, I joined in as "Vegas Lounge Singer."
It was enough to earn me second place and a bottle of Bison Grass Vodka (rumored to have a piece of grass pissed on by a bison in it!).
I made a personal promise to share it somehow at the next day's hangover hash, then watched the raffle where I didn't win anything, but the lovely Nurse Ratchet gave me her prize of a City Hash tank-top that was too big for her, tré cool!
More dancing with everyone, good times, good fun, drank some beer, but no rum, dee-da-dum!
Went back to the hostel, switched rooms because someone in there was fucking with my shit, and slept to prepare for the next morning's hangover hash.

Prague's 888th weekend: Fridee

2008-09-03T09:13:00.001-07:00

So, the big kicker about the Prague Red Dress Run was that it really wasn't part of the actual 24th anniversary/888th weekend. That meant that the hashers there were simply a portion of the overall attendees the rest of the event.

Early (re: early) on Friday morning, Goldilocks led a small group of us on a tour of the city. We walked many miles, climbing giant hills to reach old monk habitats dating back to a failed Protestant invasion of this heavily Catholic city. We went down the hills to spots that held absolutely amazing views of the city and drank Pilsner beer at authentic Chech pubs where Goldilocks ordered by simply waving with his fingers the number of beers he wanted to get.
Pouring techniques are very consistent, all achieving a lot of head (who said head?). And beer prices ranged anywhere from just over $1.25 to $3 depending on where you went. I did my best to remember the cheap beer spots if only because that city can be quite pricey, especially since I was staying in the heart of Wenscelas (sp?) Square, which is full of tourists.
This year is also the anniversary of when the Russians marched on the city, right up the square, and shot the fuck out of the building at the top with their tanks. Tough luck on them though as the building they thought was Parliment was actually just a really large and fancy museum!
That night Prague H3 held registration for the weekend at an amazing restaurant with a wonderful view of the river and Charles Bridge. The elevated patio out back gave an even better view of the castle.
We all ate, drank our 3 ticketed beers and then grouped up on a scavenger hunt pub crawl. This was slightly marred as we only had one pub open when we got there. Nevermind, Goldilocks quickly found another pub and we enjoyed a frosty gold beverage before moving on, completing all but one of the check list before having yet another (unscheduled) beer and going in for down-downs on the back patio.
I was fortunate enough to get a shirt to commemorate this drinky weekend. My bag is getting loaded with shirts, gah!
We all went to our respective hostels/hotels and slept with plans on getting to Saturdee's official 888th hash with as little hangovers as possible (hah, I don't get hangovers! Well, I get close to them at times...).

On a not quite Midnight train to a place nearish Georgia

2008-09-02T12:39:00.001-07:00

So, I'm sitting in a train going from Kutna Hora, CZ to Prague because
I couldn't find a damn hostel where I was. Bloody hell, I was hoping
to leave Prague behind and move on.
Not so much because it's not a lovely city, it quite is. But there's a
nagging problem that it's now such a tourist mecca that it's very
diffieult to really appreciate how gorgeous the city and it's
surroundings really are. Instead you have to drop exorbinant amounts
of money for food and play the 'dodge the tourist who keeps stopping
directly in front of you for another picture' game.
Couple that with a city whose streets are constantly moving, switching
around and changing direction on you and anytime you're trying to get
somewhere on time the wonderment in getting lost in such an amazinng
architectural city turns to frustration. Something I'm not akin to...
As for the hash weekend, Prague H3 showeed myself and several visitors
an amazing time. I made another set of grand hashing friends and even
have started to pull some crashspace for future European traveling!
The weekend started on Thursday as I arrived at the hostel and got
ready for the red dress run. Having picked up a smart little number
while in Edinburgh, I was one of the first 10 of the 40 or so who
showed up. Hardly a contest winner, I was awed by a couple of the
more intense red dresses and a touch disappointed by the 5 or so who
just wore red shirts and running shorts. 'Cmon guys and gals, it's a
red dress run, no need to half ass it!
Trail was up and down the twisty streets of central Prague, near
Wescelas Square and only suffered in the hare using red chalk to mark
the first half, which is impossible to see at night.
There were down-downs, and I brought out Kylie, the hottest chick from
Copenhagen to make an appearance.
We carried on, but ended far too soon for what I know of red dress
runs. Nevertheless, there was Prague's 888th hash the following day!

Frankfurt H3

2008-08-27T11:42:00.000-07:00

Also, a Vineyard hash, but the one I attended was not so.
Great hashing country in Germany. I stayed in a Hostel smack dab across from the train station in Frankfurt which meant two things. One, easy access to major transportation to and from hashes and I could sleep in before taking the train to Prague today. Oh, it also was smack dab in the middle of the red light district which made for some very interesting walks around the block. I grew quite adept at saying, "Nein!" and pulling my arm away from whatever person grabbed it to try and get me into whatever club with comments like, "They suck you, no condom!"
Ummm, yeah... I'd rather stay herpes free thankyouverymuch.
Anyways, on to the hash. It was a quick 23 minute train ride to the outskirts of a much greener and nicer Frankfurt than in the city. The trail was a great length and went through some amazing woodland areas along footpaths and wandering through less traveled areas. I made the time for another wild blackberry stop and even juggled some apples from wild apple trees near the multinational church we ran past. I was told it's a worship center for any and all religions and stays unlocked 24\7 for that very purpose. It's on this hill in the middle of this large forest with no real roads running up to it, very very cool. If there was a time I wish I ran with a camera, that was it.
Trail was amazing, except I ran into that thing where the hares lay behind the pack again. It works for the walkers, but as an FRB it's still quite frustrating when there's no marks for ages and you back check out of confusion to see the hare laying flour and a directional arrow behind you.
Nevertheless, they were a great group to hash with and I hope that I can show them some desert shiggy if they ever make it to Vegas.
Well, 3 minutes left of net time so I'll end this now as I have Prague's Red Dress weekend, 24th anniversary and 888th hash in the next 3 days!

TNT Hash

2008-08-21T10:04:00.000-07:00

Edinburgh's other major hash is the TNT, or The New Town Hash House Harriers.
A more rambunctious group, we met at the Speigel tent just outside of the main festival area. As we started to mass up (we were close to 40 I think), people started taking pictures of us, probably thinking we were one of The Fringe acts that have been performing around the Festival.
I should note that this is the back end of Festival time in Edinburgh, which is basically a massive performance affair. Street performers of all ilk, plays, magic, comedy, films, etc. etc. you get the idea. It's an amazing centerpiece for culture and entertainment around the world and definitely worth shelling out a few pound for in order to experience!
On Monday night, I joined several hashers at C Venue 34 to watch The Forbidden Planet, which was a kind of Tempest meets satiric sci-fi. It was entertaining, but wasn't a mind blowing experience by any means. The cast was young, enthusiastic and couldn't quite fill the room with their voices. Fun though and the inclusion of many 60's era rock and roll songs kept the audience entertained.
Yesterday (Wednesday), before the hash I took a whim and walked up to Bedlam Theatre to see what was playing. A play called Before We Remember had started 5 minutes prior and they allowed me late entrance to watch it.
Now, this was spectacular. A cast of 6 used string, black garbage bags, bits of paper and cardboard to tell the story of a woman who, in the final moments of death, remembers flashes from her life. Between the flavorful music, inventive and bright actors and a story that I can only call haunting, It may have been my highlight of the Festival. Especially to have simply stumbled across it so randomly.
After the play I got a quick bite to eat, grabbed a cider and waited for the hash at the Speigel tent. We finally amassed and moved to the street where the hares pointed the way.
It seems to be UK thing so far, but a brilliant trail that took us around the fringes of the city and deep into the heart of the festival was marred by hares that seemed to remark trail behind the FRB's. Several times I would check down a direction, then finding nothing for over 100 yards, turn back to find others coming back from Falses. The hares would then arrive with the walkers and point an arrow down the direction I just came from, and start marking trail!?!? Only beyond the 200 yard point did previously marked flour start to appear. I'm all for keeping the pack together, but this is silly!
Combined with one hare who was marking falses with a T instead of the standard F, it was all a tad confusing. Nevertheless, I did get a great run in, winding up and down the hilly streets of Edinburgh, jiving down narrow staircase causeways, and squeezing through masses of people in the heart of the festival who were boggled by us (now spread 3 thin in most places except for the DFL walkers) shouting, "On-On!" "Check!" and "Where in the hare does this trail go!??!"
The post-marking did get the better of one hare however as he started to draw a flour arrow on the cobblestones right in front of a policeman who grabbed him, and took down his details (one can only hope he 'tweaked' those!).
At the On-In we gathered in our section of the tent, enjoyed our discounted brew and noshed on burgers and sausages while RA Emu did his best to get things under control for circle.
I joined Croatian hasher Aer Linguist as a visitor in the center (we had 2 others, but they skipped off before circle began, along with one virgin.), and down-downs were thrown out to the usual suspects.
Afterwards (with no swing low), we boozed and mingled for a while until the crowd pared down and a few of us went on-on to another pub for more drink.
Crashed at Emu's last night, he's a great guy who I expect to run across more times as I travel. He's actually due in the US (East Coast) fairly shortly, so keep an eye out for him. Loads of fun.
Today I went to the "Dead Man's shop" (thrift store) and picked up a red dress for Prague's Red Dress Run. At under £8, it was cheap enough for the one wear I'll give it at their event weekend.

Outside of the hash, a couple or three days ago I took a train up to Stirling to check out the William Wallace Monument, a huge tower (264 steps) with rooms that detailed Mr. Braveheart's struggle to free Scotland from King Edward I's oppressive rule. The view from the top was spectacular and unhinged from the usual anti-suicide bars that do just as good a job mucking up photos.
I decided to walk to the monument from the train station, a good 3 miles roughly one-way. It was enjoyable though, I took in a lot of amazing Scottish farmland scenery, a massive ox bow river, got lost, was found again, and found wild blackberry bushes along the roadside that I could pick handfuls of blackberries from, bursting with ripeness and munch on.
Sunday I fly to Frankfurt for about 3 days before moving on to Prague.

Edinbrugh Hash

2008-08-18T04:05:00.000-07:00

After arriving in Glasgow last Wednesday, I finally had the chance to hash with Scotland on Sunday as the Edinburgh hash took us out into a large estate out in small town, whereverville.
I've been staying with Oink and Mimi in Falkirk, which is central Scotland, a great train hub for getting from A to G. They've been culturing me on Scotland via many pubs and walking around various bits of the land. The Falkirk Wheel, The Palace in Linlithgow, etc. Quite a network of canals they have up here...
Ahem, back to the hash.
Trail took place on this estate which was a mass of forests, crumbling walls of old buildings from centuries gone by, a water silo that looked like a medievil tower in the middle of nowhere and a rushing river.
Laid in an active dead fashion, the hares followed behind us as we FRB's took off on trail, and when we either solved the check or the walkers kept up, the hare would arrow the check in the proper direction.
What was very peculiar though was sometimes a check would be a back-check of sorts. We'd be following a trail on a very tightly knit path and run right across a check with no other direction to go but forward.
We'd continue on, while the hare stood back at where we entered the path and create a new arrow direction pointing elsewhere. This happened several times and while I found it a tad confusing, the pack did an excellent job of vocalizing this wankery when it happened so there was very little chance of someone getting left behind.
Pulling in at roughly 5.5 miles, with a beer stop all of a mile from the end, trail did feel a tad long, but I was also going at damn near full pace for a large percentage of it, coming in with the top FRB's.
Circle was RA'd by Hoggy, who I met a couple days prior while out in Edinbrugh drinking with Emu after attending a comedy show by Rod Gilbert.
If you haven't seen this guy, he was a great comedian. The show was one of several going on right now at the Festival and called "Rod Gilbert and the Award Winning Mince Pie" in which Gilbert goes into his duel with living in reality and how we all must be mad for staying here so long. I quite agree, his hometown of Llanbobl in Wales seems vastly superior to anything and everything. It all ends with a nervous breakdown and heaps of laughs.
Tonight I plan on going back into town and catching another show with several of the Scotland hashers called Forbidden Planet. I hear it's Shakespeare meets 60's Sci-Fi with music... no clue.

Things I noticed with the Edinbrugh hash was that they were working on knowing more than one song, they're up to 4!
FRB's and DFL's aren't brought out, but they do celebrate the arrival of new shoes properly. I also got called into circle twice, once for the typical visitor affair and again for being too damn smart on trail when I went checking in one direction and came back shortly after to announce, "Well, it doesn't go this way, the path has unbroken spider webs across it!"
Thus far, UK hashes have been of the older crowd and they can drink like fish. While lots of fun, I do hope to run into a younger hash crowd in the coming weeks. There's a lot of places to hash out here that I haven't been to yet when I get to Europe, so I guess I'll see.

Hashing in Dublin

2008-08-14T11:06:00.000-07:00

Aaaaaaaand away I.... go!
First off, let me say that Dublin is what I would picture Las Vegas being like if it lost all the casinos, neon, strip clubs and everything shut down at 10. Ok, so that seems nothing like Las Vegas, but that's because it's DUBLIN folks, try to follow along. Ha.
So, the hash start was about a kilometer and a half from my hostel and just off the main road down on Grand Canal Square. Not wanting to be late, I started my walk about 20 minutes prior to give me time to find the actual start locale as I didn't know the area. Through luck, discipline and sheer ingenuity, I arrived there before anyone. Oops, better jump in the nearby Fresh Supermarket and get some din-din and something to drink.
Eventually the first hasher showed up, one Louis Copeland. We chatted and mixed about for about 10 minutes or so until others started to arrive, one at a time, over the next 40 minutes or so.
The hares, Chick Maggot and PHD came in, touting tales of obscurity about massive falsies, wind-blown flour and midget fishermen (that last part may or may not be true), before sending our giant group of oh... 8 or 10 on our way.
Trail was marked kinda-sorta well, but the combination of badly colored chalk and flour that was being swept up in the incoming rain made things begin to get iffy rather quickly.
Fortunately, Chick Maggot laid a dead hare trail, so he was more than happy to hang around checks and then point us down the massive false trails once we gave up searching.
Down construction roads, along the River Liffey (sp?) we traversed in front of businesses and dockyards before Polly and I, FRB's that we were, blew past a check that was just poorly placed (?) and scampered along trail backwards, running into the rest of the pack head-on (who said head?) two corners later. We all then jaunted back on trail the proper way crossing a bridge before arriving at the Gate Locks for the Grand Canal.
Navigating these treacherous passageways over the river (not really), we arrived on the wrong side of the tracks, err... canal.

Now, this is what I truly love about hashing. When you're in a new area, you get the opportunity to explore and see what a place truly holds. Areas that there is no chance in hell of you ever going to (whether you want to or not) as a typical tourist.

What I'm saying is we ran through the hood.

Ducking in and out of a large park, we hashed past a massive football (soccer for you Americanos) game with something like 40 people on each side, being played in a cage on Astroturf (TM). Now, how's that for wonky?
Passing these folk, we came to the outskirts of the park and on the fringes of more hood. Polly and myself (still FRB's) took off down a side path between the park fence and an old stone wall, along which several teen toughs (or wannabes?) were hanging out. The girls in one group smoking, the boys in other, shouting at us as we went by various indescretions. None of which were all that clever (what has society come to, if I'm getting called out, at least make it good).
At this point we arrived at another check. However, Polly knew the area well (British man who lived in Dublin the past 18 or so years) and was able to zen us along a trail which was being blown/washed away as we went.
Coming around the last of the canal dockyards (part deux), we saundered past three (count 'em) drunkards holding up a wall before following a quaint footpath that traveled the cape and bordered a rather nice beach. A little further along we arrived at the beer check where the walkers were hanging out and imbibing in Heineken and Strongbow (I seem to have developed a thing for cider...).
As the rest of the runners came in, we hung around for a while and kicked back into gear once the rain (which had settled to a mere misting) started up again.
Back towards central Dublin, the trail took some twists and turns along the grid streets before we went under the lowest bridge in Dublin, then along a path where every single hasher missed a true-trail arrow pointing in kind of an awkward direction until the hare (who was trotting merrily along behind us to yank us in the right direction every time we lost trail) pointed it out with a kind, "You're going in the wrong direction! Follow the arrows!"
This led us under another bridge, where a CCTV camera and a very curious swan enjoyed our impromptu piss stop (hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go!) before we traveled on.
It was raining fairly well when we slid into the On-In where we changed to dry clothes, threw on our coats and looked for a dry place to hold circle.
Just when we thought we might just have to get wet, like a beacon of hope, the rain lifted. We moved out by the giant glowing red sticks of Grand Canal Square and broke out the Kilkenney (You bastards!) for circle and down-downs.
On-Afters were at a nearby swank and hip pub called the Blue Lagoon (need verification on that...) where we continued to imbibe for the next 20 minutes or so until close.
STTI talked to me about my travels, found I was headed to Glasgow in a couple days and contacted Oink, who is giving me a hashing hand here in Scotland.
The next night, under the moonlit alley behind my hostel window, I watched a man take a piss, a junkie shoot up and a couple have sex in a recessed doorway (though I must say, the woman got the better part of that deal) all within 10 minutes of each other.
Wednesday morning I hopped my flight to Glasgow, arriving to spend the day listening to bagpipes (there was a festival on) and drinking £2 pints of Guinness (cheapest place found by FAR) before catching a train into Falkirk to meet my fellow hashers Oink and Mimi.

Double bonuses:
I have a UK number now with a pay-as-you-go SIM.
UK has by far more kick ass phones than US, and they GIVE YOU stuff when you sign up. I'm talking Laptops, PS3's, Wii's, Football club jerseys. I'm halfway thinking I should just get a new phone out here and swap in the SIM.
Got in contact with Emu from the Edinburgh and TNT hashes.
Spent the evening getting pissed (drunk) with Oink and Mimi on a nasty combination of very good beer, very good wine and fine scotch. I recalled how I ended up Alcoholiday and will probably leave the wine out tonight.
Slept in a real bed.
Scottish breakfasts are splendid.
Picked up a slight cough in Ireland, hope to be rid of it by Edinburgh's hash this weekend. Don't feel sick, so it's probably a wear-down cough from the rapid fire tour from London to Dublin to Scotland.

West London H3

2008-08-09T13:46:00.001-07:00

Thursday I made it the West London Hash after missing it the week prior.
The hare was Teapot, a loud, boisterous individual whom I first met
two days prior at the City H3.
I was definitely sore upon my arrival to the pub. Not wanting to
continue my horrid late streak, I arrived early, ordering a pint from
a goddess of a bartendress named Lydia.
Unlike City, there was a definite noticable level of shit I had to
take for being an American. I'd like to be able to say that it was me,
but the USA thing came up just a tad too often. Mostly from only a
couple individuals. Shame, but what can I do? Like a hasher, drink my
down downs and talk to others, more willing to converse about food,
trail or whatever else.
Away from that, trail was much more interesting!
Teapot was an amazing hare, using a website called walkjogrun.com to
plot out a majority of his trail. It was laid in the dead hare fashion
in a combination of flour and chalk. There wasn't moch in the way of
shiggy, but at over 6 miles and my being a tad sore from Tuesday, I
didn't mind. With falsies, a FRB/SC (turkey/eagle) split and two DC (a
drink check and a duck check) it ended just as I started to feel it
had gone on two long.
Coming in to the On-In (the start as well in this A to A) there was
food and beer in plenty. After ordering another pint from Lydia and a
West London Hash shirt from Rent Boy, I quickly made friends with the
two virgins, one from New Zealand and the other from Estonia. I think
those two will make excellent harriettes.
Rent Boy held a great circle, but was a bit too sore about his not
getting ahold of the hash in LV almost 4 years ago when he was in town
for an IBM conference. Sorry dude, I just started and since you didn't
e-mail the yahoo groups and just someone on the site I can't say there
was much that could've been done.
I halfway think that no one got his email and that's why no one replied.
After circle I got to talk to Thunder Thighs who wants to send Upchuck
a grand hello! Then I took the train back to the hostel to catch a
solid 3 hours sleep before taking the plane to Ireland. So now I sit
in Dublin, avoiding the rain today and awaiting Monday's hash.
Upon arrival here I immediately went to the Jameson distillery for a
tour, followed by a trip to the Guinness Storehouse for another tour.
Tomorrow, barring the rain, I hope to take a walking tour and see a
castle or two.
I honestly like Dublin a bit more than London. There's a very Vegas
feel (minus the casino, sin city vibe) in that this is a dirty city
and they're just fine with that. There's none of this uptight show of
keeping the mess behind closed doors. Embrace the shambles and all.

City HHH in London

2008-08-07T03:49:00.001-07:00

I finally got to my first hash across the big blue ocean we call the Atlantic and these London folk are a grand troupe.
Trail was hared by Knickers in the dead style fashion, sweeping alongside us and marking the checks correctly after the FRB's solved them. Laid entirely in flour, we galomphed across parks, down back alleys, through underground tunnels (like Las Vegas directs people over the streets to cut traffic pedestrian fatalities, London takes them below) in one giagantic loop back to the start. A to A.
The big kicker is that due to the placement of the first check, I found the on-in within 5 minutes of starting the hash! I whispered it to the hare and joined the rest of the pack doing the actual trail.
I jumped over a pedestal, barely missing the sundial point atop it, I rode some guy line type swing thing in a childrens park. Jumped fences, all in all a grand time for a non-shiggy hash.
There was even another hasher there from D.C. so I got to meet another U.S. hasher from Walter Raleigh, NC. Tré cool.
Circle was done with fair speed and everyone was kept in rapt attention as down-downs were thrown out. I got pulled in with the other visitor, they had some virgins done in and then a bunch of other random shit. Good fun!
We all took turns buying each other beers before I snuck out, catching the LAST running subway (tube) back to the hostel. Special props to Teapot, I need to add him on hashspace.
Tonight I'll be going back out again to actually run the West London H3 (the one I missed last week) where Teapot will be hare and he promised food! I may have a few Canadian roommates from my hostel tag along as virgins.

On-On!

Boston Finale - London Arrival

2008-08-02T12:17:00.000-07:00

I'm running shy of internet minutes here in my London hostel, so I'll be brief about my last week in Boston, MA.

Saturdee's hash was a blockbuster combo with a BBQ attached. The trail was short, but sweet affair that included an interesting romp through the local arboreum (sp?). However, trail was looped at a point that led everyone except for a lucky four (myself included) to shortcut almost directly to the second beer stop. For those of us who were on trail, we were treated with a great patch of dirt, a lovely set of titties (courtesy Bend Over Mommy) and an overall splendid run.
Arriving at the end point through one of the metro stops (Orange line to be specific), we pulled into Seizure Salad's place and were privvy to a delightful circle and BBQ, complete with a kiddy pool into which several of us were pulled into.
There were even several namings afoot. To memory, I Eat Teabags was named due to a tea bagging incident that occured at his naming. Another hasher was named some long conjured up thing which I cannot fathom to remember and then another Just hasher was thrown into circle. There was deliberation, me and a harriette across the circle had some weird mind-meld thing going and due to my being louder, this hasher was named; Placentos, the Freshmaker.
Yes, 3 namings to my credit on my trip, 2 in Boston alone!
Which reminds me, according to the BH3 I left not so much a visitor, but an "anomoly" (in a good way!) according to both STD (Super Teflon Dong) and Crucifux. Yay!
Towards the end of the BBQ Just Deeley (Monthly Cycle in the Boston Moon Hash) arrived sporting a wicked new (also first) tattoo along her right side.

Monday I went back to Stoughton to sort my bags for European travel and get my car ready for shipping back home. I came back to Boston on Wednesday to attend the hash, say bye to my new found friends and get ready to leave the next day.
Deeley was in full stress mode from her class and would miss the hash, which was a shame, but important things first, ya know? I dropped my bag off at her place and spent the day traveling about fighting parking tickets.
The hash was a cluster fuck of no marks, and poorly laid ones for which there were. 45 minutes getting out of the start to find trail was nuts, combined with busy intersections, it was simply ghastly. However, we finally found some trail and the first beer/shot check when we began what became a ritual of calling the hares to find out where the fuck we should go.
Along the way I grabbed 3 college age runners alongside the river and convinced them to follow our group. It worked well, they seemed to enjoy themselves up until the two and a half hour mark when between beer checks 2 and 3 one of them needed to leave. The other two followed us to the on-in, a bar called Hong Kong in which they couldn't go inside because we were all being ID'd.
Despite the disaster of trail, circle was an absolute riot, liquid libations in full form, shouting, singing, etc. A virgin from the BBQ returned to show off her new ankle cast from when she fell on trail. True hasher is she! Post circle we all karaoke'd like crazy, dancing and just having a grand old time until close to 11, when I slipped off back to Deeley's where she was still doing class work.
I woke up the next day to Deeley rushing off to class (thankfully she'd be finished on Friday, too bad I was leaving the day prior, eh?), gathered my things (and finding a lovely note) and started walking to the metro station.
I stopped half-way there to get a much needed hair cut, then had to deal with delays in trains that almost made me miss my flight. Thankfully Boston airport security is so quick you'd think they were on uppers.
I arrived here in London on Friday, but since it was an overnight flight combined with a 5 hour time change, I didn't realize the day. As a result I missed the West End London hash by a full day (though I took the train many miles just to catch it... oops...), but thanks to some Phoenix hashers who happened to be on anniversary here that I ran into at the Tower, I plan on being in Dublin for their hash on Tuesday!

Boston H3 - Shiggy redeux!

2008-07-24T20:52:00.000-07:00

For the first time since Atlanta, I've spent a week in one place. Actually, I've now passed Atlanta time-wise.
I've been partitioning time between Cycle's in downtown Boston and my Flat4LV buddy Mike out here in Stoughton. Both places have been more than amazing in terms of letting me stay (though I'd be lying if I said I didn't have preferences) and I'm doing my best to stay out of my hosts hair (which is why I'm bouncing around a bit). Ummm, it's good. Yeah, I've been grinning a lot.

Well, this blog is about hashing, so I'm going to get back on topic.
Got to this week's Boston H3 pre-lube/start on time (holy hell-fire shit, how did I manage that?) with the promise of a heavy shiggy hash and boy did they deliver. In circle I was given crap for kissing ass when I said they've pulled the best shiggy hash I've done so far, but I wasn't kidding.
We started out at a pub in Central Quincy with what seemed to be a standard urban hash. Then, three checks later it started. I found trail through some bushes alongside a warehouse type building. Yelling, "On-On!" and blowing the whistle I picked up in Charleston I turned the corner (prominent FRB at the time) to discover a huge pile of... SNOW! Well, it was actually shaved ice, but whatever.
Immediately I started piling snowballs, getting about 5 made before the next hashers turned the corner. I let loose a barrage and invited them to help me ambush the rest of the pack. Slowly over the next few minutes our attack built and we loosed a massive flurry as the DFL's turned the corner.
Returning back to haul ass on trail we passed some guys sitting behind another building in a pickup drinking beer. I asked them for one. They gave one to Monthly Cycle (hey, she has tits, it's a persuasive argument), then... they gave a beer to me. Yes, impromptu beer-checks!
A little further down on trail we turned into a cemetery. Unlike the ones in Las Vegas this was massive with giant and varied headstones and monuments to those passed. A couple caught my eye, including a classic cross/statue piece and a really nifty pyramid that had every side engraved.
From there we entered a field. It's hard to describe because I'm not familiar with North East terminology, but it was a giant grass field with knee to thigh high grass growing on almost black soil with irrigation ditches running haphazardly through. If you weren't careful you could easily misstep and plunge three or so feet into some of the most foul, brackish water you can imagine.
Good, solid shiggy and not a briar in sight to lacerate me! Didn't even see poison ivy, which is a double bonus since I left the alcohol in Stoughton.
Well, all that careful jumping of ditches came to naught a half mile further down when trail led us straight through open water.
Maybe 100 yards long we were no longer land bound. The good was the water was maybe 2 feet deep at its worst. The bad was that the bottom was just loose mud, the kind that you sink up to your knees in.
I -of course- yelled, "Cannonball!" and jumped in, only to get brackish, foul water up my nose, in my mouth and just... nasty! However, nasty means good shiggy!
We exited the other side and ran through more fields into the beer check, the sweet sweet beer check. The only problem was, we beat the hares. They showed up about 7 minutes after everyone's arrival with beer. Singing and gallivanting ensued while rain started to pour down. This is hashing, this is enjoyment! I had myself another beer.
We continued on trail, more street, more fields, more jumping of tiny ditches before coming across a GIANT water crossing. At twice the width of the last one, I was sorely tempted to hijack a nearby rowboat tied to several other rowboats which were near a dock. I'm pretty sure we were on the edges of the Atlantic...
Trail exited by the boathouse where several people were watching our drenched, foul smelling selves climb out of the water as we ran into even more fields before ending on a beach with no clue where trail was.
My one wish was that the hares used bio-degradable TP on some of the sections instead of colored flour. Once night fell it got very difficult to see the pink flour on the ground.
Everyone tromped through the woods for a bit before centering on where we ended up having circle.
With three visitors (counting myself there were also two from St. Louis, PMS and Postage Tramp... may have been more, I was drinking...), circle was a riot.
I vaguely remember bits... but I was having fun.
Afterwards we all went back to the On-After at a local bar where we had pizza and more beer.
There was a woman changing in the Men's room, so I took it upon myself to change in the Women's. Turn about is fair play, right?
Eventually (shortly thereafter) everyone started going home. I'm not entirely sure, but I got a pretty strong feeling that the ending bar is not looking for our return. Maybe because we kept breaking the shirt-shoes policy (our clothes were drenched, what did they expect?).
Cycle and I rode the train with PMS and Postage returning to our respective places. I am apparently "adorably smitten" when drunk?
A long shower to clean the stench off was in order, followed by a really good night's sleep.

Today I took the train back to Stoughton, and purchased plane tickets to Europe. I leave on July 31st, expecting to land in London roughly 6:30 a.m. the next day.
I thought I had the car thing worked out, but my folks seem to have set up plans of their own. I'm really iffy because it's very cost prohibitive and I'm only 4 months in. Hashpitality is going to play heavy in Europe. At least I'll know someone out there within a couple months of when I go over. Hashers all have friendly faces, but there's something to be said for a familiar one too.
Next Wednesday will be my third (and last) Boston hash and my last in the United States until?
Time to ramp up!
On-On!

Boston's shiggy hash is...

2008-07-21T07:31:00.000-07:00

...don't know, didn't make it.
So Saturdee night Monthly Cycle and I went out to see The Dark Knight, which is a damn splendid film. Heath Ledger is (was?) the Joker and made that movie his. I almost feel that without his performance, the movie would have simply been a shell of what it was. Without giving away too much, (if you don't want any spoilers, skip ahead to the next para) the make-up team nailed Loeb's Two-Face style from A Dark Victory and the writers used a very convincing variation of Moore's The Killing Joke story to re-construct some of Two-Face's orgin. I also noticed elements of The Long Halloween and Year One in place. Superb screenplay, done well by the actors. I still feel that Bale grits his teeth a bit too much doing his gruff Batman voice, but I may be picking hares.
Nolan's director style felt like it jumped around a little bit, but his shot placement and certain sequences more than made up for it. In particular, when The Joker was blowing up a building in drag and driving the stolen police car down the streets. Very strongly done.
Cycle is a damn good cook.
So, the next morning we left extremely late for the hash (my fault, admittedly), and on the way figured that it just wasn't going to be worth it. She had schoolwork to do and I needed to get a hold of my bud from Flat4 to hang out. So instead we stopped by a bar called "The Alchemist" and ordered a beer.
While chatting and drinking on the patio it started to drizzle. The waitresses asked if we wanted to come inside, but we figured it was just a little water and we'd be cool.
About 10 or 15 minutes later it went from drizzle to torrential downpour. The umbrellas did little to stop the rain and we were soaked in minutes.
At which point the waitresses asked again if we'd like to come inside.
Silly them, that AC would've frozen us! We were wet anyway and getting a huge kick out of the lightning and thunder going on right over our heads (who said head?). So fuck it, we're just going to order another beer and enjoy this freak weather for all we can!
Meanwhile, random JP Boston dude comes off a bus and comments how kick ass the weather is. We naturally invite him to get a beer and join us outside.
It rains more.
It stops raining.
The sun comes out.
I drive Cycle home where we chill for a couple hours before I leave her to her schoolwork and I take off to Stroughton to meet with a good bud of mine from back in Vegas who lives out here now. A little later today I'm going to meet up with another F4 pal and hit a car show.
Flat4LV FTW!

America's Oldest Hash

2008-07-19T07:19:00.001-07:00

According to the shirt that is.
Founded on 6/9/69 (isn't that quaint?) Boston's hash is known for A)
being in and around Boston and B) being a hash.
Great group of folks, roughly 40 showed up to Wednesday's trail which,
while shiggy-less, was a fun romp around the innards of Boston. I was
fortunate enough to run into Hare Club For Queers and another of the
fine Boston club that invaded Las Vegas for The Jizz Moppa's bachelor
thingy. Jizz himself wasn't present though as he was preparing for
today's wedding (for which the Vegas bachelor thing was held). See, it
all goes in sequence!
The on-in was held on the back patio of a downtown bar where
down-downs occurred, a great many songs were sung (even post circle!)
and fun gal named Just Deeley left me an awesome voicemail that
included words such as, "beer" "pitchers of" and "naked"
Awesome!
I got some crash space with Just Toj (sp?) a grand individual whose
living arrangements are unique so for for me in that there's like 8+
people under this roof sharing space. Only a couple of them actually
live there, but there are people crashing for a couple nights, people
staying for a month or two, etc. Very transitory and given all the
colorful signage aimed at peaceful co-inhabitance, very commune-ish.
Cool.
Last night was the Boston Full Moon Hash, the first one under new
mis-management as the founder, Jizz Moppa, is doing the marriage
thing.
Trail was a touch long, and at the end no one could find the marks so
we had to call the hares for the on-in location... However, each of
the beer-checks (yes, multiple!) were in very cool locations. Either
under bridges or atop lookout towers. Those were worth the effort and
highly enjoyed when found.
At the on-in Hare Club took on RA duties and masterfully led circle,
calling in various people for infractions whether real or imagined.
Including me for knowing too many songs and Just Deely for making out
with me (not really though, it was just a peck) during circle.
This went on for the better part of an hour and beer supplies were
scant. Nambla and Deeley went off on their bikes in search of more
beer (more beer...) and we continued on, stalling with some of the
longer hash songs (Free beer, Chicago, Yogi, S&M Man, My
Boy/Girlfriend is a Vegetable, etc.
Nambla comes back, we're still singling...
Well over an hour after, Deeley comes back with 60 beers on her back
having biked to three different liquor stores looking for one to be
open.
Hare Club calls her in for a naming. The usual stuff is asked along
with new information as she's been brought in for this before
unsuccessfully.
Names are shouted, my first one fails, more names are shouted, there's
a story involving bicycles and blood on trail. I suggest, Monthly
Cycle and the name sticks.
Circle ends, we're all hanging around drinking warm beer, everyone
takes off except me and Deeley, including the bag car with all my
shit!
So I crash at her place and the next day we get ahold of Nambla so I
can take the metro to meet him and pick up my bag.
Outside of a bullshit parking ticket, I'm enjoying Boston so far.
Last night I went camping out at Cape Ann. Tonight Cycle and I are
going to see Dark Knight in Imax. I should be running into Alyssa from
F4LV in the next couple days too. All while I figure out how to get
over the Atlantic.

Google Maps can suck my balls

2008-07-13T22:51:00.000-07:00

So, I'm in South Jersey and figure I've got roughly 6 hours to get to the Ridgefield H3. I take a detour into Cherry Hill to look for a non-existant White Castle (the one that's in Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle). With some help from Snatchsquash, I discover it's not there. Google Maps tells me that I've got roughly 2 hours of driving from where I'm at to where the Ridgefield hash starts.
I take the extra (presumably) 4 hours... no, check that, I decide to narrow my window down to 2 hours to try and find the closest White Castle and see if it's, "the one."
While driving I periodically check my distance and as I get closer to where the White Castle is supposed to be, I noticed that my driving time to Ridgefield (which was actually CLOSER than where I started from originally) now jumped from 2 to 3 hours. Oh fuck, I'm going to miss the hash!
So I divert away from the White Castle excursion and decide to high tail it back to the 95 and aim for the hash with the hopes of getting there on time.
Yeah... right.
Googlemaps has it's own fucktard idea of using EVERY SINGLE TOLL ROAD IN THE STATES OF NEW JERSEY AND NEW YORK to get me to where I want to go.
This means that it, A) adds another hour to my driving time because traffic gets slowed to a standstill at the gates
and
B) It costs me around $15 to get there. This includes a TWO MILE SECTION OF ROAD in New York that costs me $10.
I paid $10 to cross the Washington Bridge, seriously, what the fuck!? Am I supposed to feel some sort of self inspiring importance for either myself or the bridge because it cost me $10 to fucking drive across it into New York? Fuck that shit.
And for the time that I spent in traffic (roughly another 2 hours + added to the original driving time) I could've easily driven around the damn city and saved my money.
Google Maps sent me straight into a $15 traffic jam, turning a 2 hour drive into a 5 hour drive, costing me not only cash, but gas, my health (this shit is stressful, yo) and most importantly, THE HASH!
I ended up over an hour and a half late to the start. I threw my number on the back of my car and started walking trail.
About .5 miles in I get a call from Dancing Fool letting me know that everyone's at the lot doing a car run. I jog back and say my, "hi's!" before following everyone up a steep winding hill to the On-In.
It appears I missed a fine shiggy trail through the backwoods of Conneticut...
Everyone is thoroughly nice though and they set me up at a nearby hasher's house who is out of town. I expect to tent in the backyard, but there's a house sitter there who actually let's me crash on the couch simply because I'm a hasher. Good man, Lou!
The next day I went into NY via train (car's at the train lot) and despite posting on the NYCH3's Yahoo groups a couple days in advance, didn't get to meet anyone until today after trail.
I bought a ticket to Liberty Island (The Statue of Liberty's homestead) at 9 a.m., fully expecting to be back in town and able to hash at 1 p.m.
I did not anticipate a 2 hour wait in line to get on the ferry. As I left for the island I noticed that it was almost noon, so I posted that I wasn't going to make trail.
Afterwards I took the train to the On-In, fortunately there were hashers still there. Had a couple beers and introduced myself, then everyone went on their merry way.
I've since gotten to walk through Central Park. Met a couple parkour guys and got to injure myself jumping on a fence (good fun!) before taking a nap on a park bench.
I'm using a hotel's internet right now to do this and hashspace, then I'm going to take a 4 hour nap before heading out to NBC's studios on Rockefeller Plaza and trying to snag a standby ticket for Conan O' Brian!

I Love Rocky Hash

2008-07-09T16:52:00.000-07:00

There isn't a Rocky Hash... why not? There should be damnit!
I spent much of Monday at Westminster meeting up and hanging out with a car club buddy of mine who moved out East (Flat4 FTW!). Tuesday he left for work and I drove out to Gettysburg to see all the wretchedness that the Civil War had wrought in order to bring us the country that we have today.
I spent the extra dough for a 2 hour bus tour around the entire field, hearing stories of battles and lives both won and lost.
A tad bit pricey (the tour that is), but I definitely came back with a profound view of what formed our country and an even deeper appreciation for Lincoln's Gettysburg Address.
The one kicker was that the bus tour didn't stop for pictures, so I spent the next hour hauling ass across the battlefield so I could capture images of what I'd seen.
Combined with a clusterfuck of traffic in the center of town and I had to haul even more ass (there was a lot of ass hauling going on) into West Chester, PA (suburb of Philly?) in order to make the Philadelphia Hash House Harriers hash.
I arrived about a half hour late, the same time as Cliff Diver from Rumsfeld H3 (an all men's hash) and we started following trail, running into a haphazard Dancing Fool along the way.
In and out of alleys, down and up streets, the hare, Mandongo, laid very well with no falses, but a few of the checks still threw us through a loop and by the beer-check (a stop in at a bar called Jake's where there were amazing beer prices of 50 cents a glass!) we were still about 20 minutes behind.
Shortly after Cliff Diver and I left the beer check we ran into Dancing Fool again, carrying a trash bag of recycleables while running down the train tracks. We all had an impromptu wild raspberry check then asked a Mexican family about which way "el corre loco" went before high tailing it further down the tracks to beat the train across the bridge (seemed like a good idea).
2 checks later and Dancing Fool was long on his own path. Cliff Diver and I came to a hell of a check and spent a good 10 minutes running up and down and over and around various streets and parking garages. He went one way, I went the other and found trail.
Yelling "On-On" at the top of my lungs I hoped to have him catch up to me, but alas... never saw him again (until the On-In that is).
Alone, in West Chester without a clue where the fuck I was, my only hope was to follow marked checks (of which there were few). This led to my downfall however as I followed a badly marked check into an intersection of 3 (count 'em) streets. I went down and up each and every one, never finding trail but finding a nice older asian lady who hosed me down while watering her garden (thanks!).
I finally went back into the park where the check was, went the opposite way that I had and ended up finding trail with the help of a casual jogger (yogger?) who just happened to be heading (who said head?) down the same street trail went.
A mile or so later I finally arrived at the start point and made it into the On-In, only about half an hour after circle had finished and the hashers were just kind of hanging out, eating pizza and drinking Yeungling beer.
I introduced myself, told them that "Martha says, Hi!" Which he really didn't say, but I figured that he would if I had called him to let him know I was in Philly and going to their hash.
10 minutes later Cliff Diver and Dancing Fool came in. Apparantly Cliff ran into Fool and they went to the nearby hospital for some water and to chill in the air conditioning for a while before just tromping back to the start (wankers).
All in all, good fun.

I grabbed a campsite for the night outside of town (after driving around for a half hour because the damn place I went to first was shut down...), then came back into downtown Philadelphia today to check out the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and a bunch of other touristy things.
It all culminated not too long ago when I parked my car by the Free Library (yes, that's what it's called) and threw on a hash hoodie and did my best Rocky down the grassy field the .6 miles to the Philadelphia Art Museum. All through hardcore driving rain. It was officially kick-ass.

I missed hashing with the Hokessin (sp?) hash in Delaware (Delaware... Hi, I'm in Delaware...) to do it, but plan on making the Ridgefield hash in Conneticut tomorrow evening.

On-On!

Baltimore/Annapolis H3

2008-07-07T15:01:00.000-07:00

After a Saturday camping at the Capitol KOA (and amazing my campground neighbors with my hammock/tarp set-up that kept me dry the whole night during heavy rain), I drove down to Annapolis to hash with Baltimore. There I ran into Mr. Beanie Weenie, whom I met in Birmingham, who was in town visiting his gal.
How to describe trail... it was not pretty. I'm not talking about the shiggy, the ivy, briars or ticks (I got my share of all). It was roughly 5.5 miles laid out with about 10lbs of flour, almost all of which was hidden. I think the 5 of us who actually finished spent more of our 2+ hours out looking for trail than actually running it.
Hidden true-trail arrows, hidden flour, turns without checks, I try to limit my complaining when visiting a hash because I don't know the local kennel's custom, but this was ridiculous.
Combined with our getting kicked out of a section that went through private property (and in the process losing the beer-check), it was brutal.
Even one of the co-hares (laid 2 falses off of checks) was bitching at the end because he tried to do trail with us and got just as lost on the main hare's trail.
There were 2 graces, impromptu wild raspberry checks (there were several bushes along the roadside and in the woods) and the On-In which was a spectacular view of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.
The RA held a good circle, with a naming, as Any Cock'll Do's son was brought in to be forever known as Blown-Back Mount Them.
What is it with the Brokeback naming themes? With good info to work with (his most embarassing sexual moment was he was doggy-ing a girl and sneezed on her back), why settle when you can table? Jussayin.
Anyways, we all hung at the beach for a good while, dipping in the water, playing with dogs, drinking beer until it pretty much ran out, then went to The Mexican Café for the On-After.
Great (if somewhat strong) margaritas and good food. The only major incident at that point was a very drunk Mr. Beanie Weenie walking over to the adjacent bar's parking lot and peeing, which almost got his ass kicked if another hasher hadn't stepped in (almost getting his ass kicked in the process).
I suspect that Beanie's going to apologize at (or before) the next Baltimore Hash he shows up to.
Today I'm visiting a Flat4 member who has moved out East, then tomorrow I suspect I'll be at the Philadelphia H3.

Holy crap, I'm actually up to date on my postings... Let's see if I can keep it this way.

Everyday is Wednesday

2008-07-07T14:42:00.001-07:00

Reportedly the largest hash in the U.S., I got my opportunity to hash with them on July 3rd.
Parking my car by The Mall, near the Capitol Building I took a cab ride over to Farragut Station to discover somewhere between 80 to 100 hashers all gathering in a small park. With about a dozen virgins and 4 or so visitors to join me, it was hectic to say the least. The majority of these folk were runners and I did my best to keep up with the middle of the pack.
However, I wasn't really prepared to run at speed with them and used the three shot checks and one beer check to my advantage in keeping with the group.
It was for the most part all non-shiggy inner-city running with clever checks (almost all solved by the FRB's before I got there) but I (and a few others) was able to add a little more adventure by short-cutting a portion of trail via a 20 foot wall climb, punctuated by my catching an old nail in my thigh (yay for up to date tetanus shots!).
With a crowd that big, I was fortunate to run across a couple I met at the Peach Fuzz hash in Augusta so the familiar faces were nice. Then I ran into a hasher from Rhode Island who asked if I remembered Dave. Yup, comedy Dave that ran with us for about a year before disappearing to the East Coast. It took a minute for me to remember him, but recall I did!
Circle was huge and slightly askew. It's impossible to keep such a large group focused, but my hat off to the RA for a bang up job! There was even a naming, not that I can recall the name right now.
We circled up on the back end of a park near a skate park and a freeway. Nearby was a playground made up of almost entirely nets and rope. Forming webs of sort, many of us climbed on the structures like chimpanzees at the zoo. I hung upside down a few times, almost losing my beer in the process (but I didn't!)
The On-After was at a gay bar a few blocks from the freeway underpass where we ended. There we ordered more beer, played pool, sang karaoke and really crowded the upstairs of the joint.
I hung until late then walked back to my car, which (miraculously) was still there. The only car in the area.
I spent the night outside of town at an EconoLodge, then parked my car at a Metro Station and took the train in on the 4th. Walked The Mall, took pictures of the Capitol Building and the Washington Monument and a few other unique structures, then I ate some Bhutanese food and made my way over to the Lincoln Memorial to wait for the fireworks.
Several hours (and rainstorms... should've brought my umbrella, but it was almost 90 out and no clouds when I got there...) later I got to watch a spectacular fireworks show over the Washington Monument from the footsteps of the Lincoln Memorial. Amazing.
Afterwards I walked the Vietnam Memorial then made my way over to the Jefferson Memorial before catching the train back to my car.

Richmond H3

2008-07-05T10:45:00.001-07:00

Camped overnight at Jellystone Park (Yogi Berra?) and attended the
Richmond hash on Wednesday. Hare was Rambo who I guess is known for
gnarly trails. I know it was in the G-H-E-T-T-O.
Residents actually called the cops to check us out, not usually many
large groups of white people in that neighborhood.
To put it simply, trail was short, nasty and (sorry Rambo) could have
used better marking when changing direction.
When the hare has to sweep and tell the pack, "Don't go that way,
can't you see the marks turning!" It probably means those directional
changes could have been clearer. We are half-minds after all.
Nevertheless, the rest of trail was well marked. Briars, sewer creeks
and all. I still haven't gotten that sliver of wood out of my shin.
It's not a real trail without blood, right?
Circle was also pretty quick (we figured it was a good idea to get out
by dark) with the FRB getting a paddle, the DFL getting a flag and a
little bit o' swing low.
There was even hash drama after everyone left between Rambo and Chew-my-baca.
See, Rambo had a tunnel, but not eeveryone had flashlights. Rambo
brought extras, Chewie got the dive light (not cheap).
Some point after the hash the dive light disappeared. Rambo asked for
it back, Chewie looked all over, but couldn't find it. Offered to give
Rambo cash for it, Rambo got a tad bit parental about it, "When
someone lends you something, they expect to get it back."
Chewie got pissed, threw everything out of his car, gave Rambo 60
bucks and... yikes!
Rambo took the money and left, I helped The Kitchen Sink and Chewie
re-load the car and we went to the on-after.
On they way there they stopped for gas, and while talking with Chewie
to calm him down, he asks me to grab the flashlight off the hood where
it was sitting the whole time!
I immediately fell over laughing. Chewie felt like an ass, but laughed as well.
Again we head to the On-After, this time stopping to help out a guy
whose car is on fire on the Interstate (can I count this as a bizarre
night yet?) which consisted of us telling him to quit trying to pull
stuff out of his car (there were no other occupants) before the damn
thing blew.
Once the cops arrived though we moved on, finally arriving to the On-After.
Rambo wasn't there so we ate, chatted with the other hashers, then
chatted with the Confederate re-enactment regimen that came in
(wtf!?).
Chewie and TKS offered me crash space, which I graciously accepted.
All in all a good, but damn bizarre Wednesday in Richmond as I got
ready for the Every Day Is Wednesday hash on Thursday. But that's
another post.

The Trash!

2008-07-05T10:12:00.001-07:00

One of the 'must hash' groups from everyone that I've talked to. I
unfortunately missed their actual trail due to some timing confusion
(I was at brunch with LaQueefa and Shit Happens with the impression
Trash started at 5ish, not 2:30), but with deft driving I was able to
arrive in time for circle.
What appeared out of the woods looked like some well shiggy'd hashers.
Pretty much everyone had blood on trail, mud caked over their shoes
and was pouring sweat (I'm sure the 90+ degrees outside didn't help
much).
Fafrumfuken (sp?) was FRB and for his earnestness, he earned a flak
jacket in circle, complete with metal plate inserts.
Circle itself brought about its own quirks. While there was no bibbing
(one thing for which the Trash Hash is infamous for), there were bags
of ice to sit on, awards (dinky discount store toys, possibly lead
paint based), and a toilet seat which Strawberry Shortcock promptly
wiped his ass with before presenting it to Urin8 for some savage crime
that I can't recall.
Down-downs followed, more people sat on the ice, virgins were
devirginized, someone did the robot (not true, but sounds good), and a
good portion of us went to Buffalo Wild Wings for the on-after.
Then I followed Fafrumfuken (my crash space for the night) around.
There was a girl, beer, no movie, and I tought them how to play
Caliente.
Many thanks to Fafrumfuken for the couch and shower, definitely needed
them both! And to all the Trash hashers for some grand hospitality.
Hopefully I can actually do a trail next time!

15 Minute Quickie

2008-07-01T10:34:00.001-07:00

I'm on short time here, but I've got a lot of hashing to cover, so I'll (regrettably?) have to keep it short and sweet.
I arrived in Gainesville, Florida on Friday at the invite of Scrubby Chubby who visited the Daytona, Florida hash the same time I was there.
I arrived at the start fairly early, early enough to meet a transplant from Hawaii who was wondering if we were at the proper run start (like hell if I knew!).
Eventually more hashers arrived, along with the hares, Ganja Ninja and VaDryNa, who were theme appropriate in catholic schoolgirl uniforms (!?). I threw my boxers on over my run shorts to simulate as best I could.
Trail was a nice jaunt around the neighborhoods, mostly pavement, but ending with a trek down a stream in which only the hares got wet as we wisely followed the jogging trail that ran alongside the moistness.
The end of the 3rd bridge also marked a theoretical hare snare as I raced ahead (race-ist bastard) and cut the hares off as they were laying TP in the creek. A quick thinking Ganja Ninja marked Beer Check and we waited for the rest of the pack to walk the next 30 yards (!?) to the actual beer check. Sneaky Bastards!
Circle was grand inside a local pub and then we migrated to Ganja's to crash the night and de-alcoholize.

End Gainesville

Start Charleston

I arrived the next day with help from Squat and Swallow to Revolving Whore's house where the Happy Heritic H3 was starting trail. It was a slightly confusing arrangement of flour as trail lapped over itself several times and off a check I came into a later part of trail and we all finished before the hares. WELL before the hares!
We had an impromptu Beer Stop before we took off again, this time on the correct trail, which was also deviated later on as an incoming tide washed out a large section that the hare had set.
We all took the opportunity (well, most of us) to wallow, which caused my ass to burn (?) so I got out quickly. I'd rather not know what I was neck deep in...
Trail included a stinky creek, a ladder climb and an on-in. Shit Happens held a great circle with a Cone of Silence to shut up the loud ones, then the on-after consisted of food, nudity, hot-tubs and a hammock. You put it together, I was drinking beer and watching. I think a motorcycle was involved at one point.
I'm out of time, so I'll have to re-hash the Trash Hash next time.

Moons over Miami

2008-06-26T17:11:00.001-07:00

So, last Friday on my way up from the Keys I stopped over in Miami
with the idea of seeing the beach until the weather forced me to do
otherwise. It's rainy season in Florida and that means a shower every
afternoon.
I took the opportunity to see a rather by the numbers Mike Myers in
The Love Guru and then headed to a happy hour drink n' run (not a
hash!) that some of the hashers in Miami/Ft. Lauderdale were
having.that evening.
I arrived on time (strange...) and found another visiting hasher, Head
Teller from the BVD hash in Melbourne, FL. He had also brought his
brother Jay and a virgin named Mike.
We sat for a beer and, not seeing other hashers I walked over to the
other bar in the place and found Cumming or Going and Stenchy Wench.
We all gathered together as more hashers arrived, had a few more beers
and then Cumming said that with all the visitors we might as well have
a proper hash then went to purchase flour and beer!
When Cumming came back we all met in the parking lot, went over chalk
talk and then took off after the hare.
Trail was a well marked, light shiggy affair about 5 miles in length.
It reminded me a lot of the urban shiggy Vegas trails and was a lot of
fun.
We even went along train tracks as a locomotive went by and honked at us.
The only trail peril was when Head Teller, his brother and Mike jumped
a 12 foot chainlink fence to screw around in a boot camp type obstacle
course, getting chased out by security and having Jay gash his hand
pretty severely on the jump back over.
It's not a real hash trail unless there's blood, right?
Circle was a quick affair with the usual celebra, with the exception
that I got to guest RA.
Now I'm up in New Smyrna Beach hanging out with Fecal Fucker who's
giving me crash space while I'm here. Last night I hashed with Daytona
Beach H3 (update on this soon!) and tomorrow, Gainesville!

The Keys

2008-06-21T13:48:00.001-07:00

Most of this past week (roughly Tuesday through Thursday) was spent in
Key West. In order to safe on boarding costs I drove there overnight,
getting there around 1:30 am, sleeping in my car overnight so I could
get a full day first thing without spending for a room.
Spent the day doing the usual tourist sightseeing of Hemmingway's
home, Mile Marker 0 (literally the end of the road) on US Highway 1
and the Southernmost point in the Continental U.S. which is roughly 90
miles from Cuba.
Then took a ghost tour of the island, learning some of Key West's
unique history, including the doll that inspired the Chucky films.
I had a checklist for the Keys, and I'm pround (gonna do a down-down
for this) to say I've completed it. This list entailed.
Having a Cheeseburger in Paradise and Margarita at the original
Margaritaville (no, Jimmy Buffet wasn't there)
Eating a genuine slice of Key Lime Pie (much more tart than the west
coast edition, also available in Pie on a Stick form, dipped in
chocolate)
Drinking a beer at the Hog's Breath Saloon (Because hog's breath is
better than no breath at all), having a beer at Capt. Tony's (the
original Sloppy Joe's which was Hemmingway's favorite bar), the new
Sloppy Joe's and eating fresh seafood from the Raw Bar (oysters,
clams, shrimp, conch)
Snorkling on a reef
Sailing on a catamaran
Swimming in 2 oceans at the same time (The Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico).
Overall it was a blast, but too pricey. I could've went a week or 2 in
the Pacific Islands for what I spent in Key West.
I did make an attempt to contact the Key West H3 while I was there,
but it was the last day and I was unsuccessful.
Key West was a needed break from the de rigors of constant road
whoring to different hashes, but I'm ready to return to the ilk of our
kind.
Just with less mosquitoes!

Sex On On In The City

2008-06-16T14:05:00.001-07:00

"Jacksonville is gay, hey!"
Apparantely that is not a disrespectful statement out here. It's a
hash, go figure!
The fine folks who put me up in Augusta, GA were Pixel Dick, Spank my
Spud! and Dead Peter Beater, all grand folk!

Back to JaxH3... This marked the return of the Sex On On event as they
(the hash) have been banned from every hotel on the beach (where they
usually hold it), so they picked a place in the city this year.
Friday night's prelube trail was a quick bar-hopping jaunt that
culminated at a riverside bar that the hash rented out. Limp Dick
provided live music via acoustic guitar as everyone danced, chatted
and had a good time.
Saturday's trail was a 6+ miler with 2 beer stops and one hell of a
wonky eagle trail that put the few of us who did it on the rich
(extremely ghetto) part of town. It eventually met up with the turkey
leg all of a street away from the initial split.
There were Extra Credit stops along the way (bars you could go into to
buy your own beer) a few dozen tit and yak (package) checks, a
monorail ride (that everyone got on the wrong train for), and a train
track crossing that cut it a little close!
Outside of some iffy marking after the second beer stop, it was a long
and fun hash trail.
After a lively circle we gathered for the Hash Olympic games where we
competed in both teams and individually at events like mini bicycle
races, balloon toss, taco and banana eating (done in reverse) and
something to do with a hula hoop. I was fortunate to earn a bronze
(mini bar bottle of Jim Beam) in the group event with silver getting
Bacardi and gold getting Cuervo Gold.
After the olympics we all showered and changed into togas for the toga
pub crawl. Again we wound our way through the streets and across the
river bridges of downtown Jacksonville, culminating in our ending at
the same riverside bar we were at on Friday night. This time we had a
DJ and Pizza Hut pasta (amazingly good!) and more dancing and
drinking.
Jacksonville throws an amazing event. Really a blast! GM CHiPS and RA
Cooter Recruiter kept things moving clean and efficient. I met some
great hashers who've all offered to help me meet both Florida and
overseas hashers along the way. Even helped me put in perspective the
car wheel piss thing. It's all good now! Hash territory I suppose.
I'm in Cocoa Beach now, about to go have dinner with a girl who was in
my surf lesson class.
The bartender at my bar hashed a bit, going to try and get her back into it!
On-On!

Fear No Shiggy in Atlanta

2008-06-13T08:01:00.000-07:00

It's been an incredibly busy week in the hashing sense, so I've got several different hashes to comment on, almost all in Atlanta. I'll try and be brief just because I'm on borrowed computer time here at the hotel.
After attending the S.L.U.T. trail on Thursday, I balanced out a decision to attend a Darkside/Southern Comfort hash on Friday. To break it cleanly, SoCo hashes are known for their ultra-shiggy (practically class 4 hurricane level) and Darkside hashes are generally 10+ miles in length.
I know this is read mostly by hashers, but for those uninitiated to our slang, shiggy is basically anything you probably wouldn't normally run on. Off the beaten trail type terrain. In Las Vegas that's dry creek beds, desert shrub, marsh/wetlands, drainage channels, etc. Here in Atlanta it's similar except for the lack of a better word, shiggier. Briars, briar vines, waist deep swamp, etc. Throw in the abundance of ticks this summer and you better have your DEET!
So, back to the Darkside/SoCo trail. It took roughly a mile to a mile and a half to hit shiggy, but it was like rushing into the ocean to meet a wave half-way. It started with a slide down a hill in thigh deep shrubbery and dead leaves, grabbing onto branches of nearby trees for support. It continued to weave in between the trees once we got to the bottom before leading us right to knee deep creek water running through concrete tunnels under... whatever they ran under.
Trail was marked mostly in strips of toilet paper (flour would have been useless once we got in the jungle) and wove us for miles through the backwoods of Atlanta. The few times we broke out from the trees we were running through extremely run down apartment complexes (Hareline half-jokingly suggested a kevlar vest with the usual flashlight and whistle) where more apartments were vacant with broken in doors and windows than occupied. Then it was back into the jungles of Atlanta.
About 2 or 3 miles in, while going through a tunnel of waist deep water (reddish brown and foul smelling) my headlamp popped off and was lost (like hell I'm going to try and retrieve it).
About a mile and a half after that we reached the first water stop and I went from the middle of the pack to the back end (there were... 7 or 8 of us), sandwiching myself between Skin Flute Pie and Dain Bramage so I could visually feed off of their lights.
Without a light of my own, I continually got caught in brambles and briar vines, resulting in scratches and cuts on my legs that seem to be staying. Cool!
We finished after roughly 10.5 miles and 4 hours of hardcore hashing trail. The hare, Richard Calamari (Squid Dick), did an excellent job of laying out trail. We were rarely off trail and never felt lost, which is a plus anytime a hash goes over 6 miles in general.
The circle was done mostly in the SoCo style. As a first timer I had to do a down-down from a shitty beer that was left in someone's car for 6 months (temperature flux) and the only song they sing is Zulu Warrior.
I arrived back at Pumpt'kin's place at roughly 3 to 3:30ish in the morning.

The next day was the Atlanta H4 (Hash House Harriers and Harriettes), with a trail laid by Portugese Water Dog and Diaper Dan.
Through a combination of being beat to shit by the previous nights trail and a 100 degree day, there wasn't much in me to run this. I ended up walking the majority of trail and hanging with the middle of the pack, coming in last to the Beer Stop (not Check out here, they call them Stops). The DFL walkers had found a map of trail on trail and shortcut to the end before even the FRB's got to the Beer Stop.
After the stop, I followed Camel Toe and Coffee Bean down a long tunnel, only to get circle jerked at the end and brought back to where we went in down a different tunnel. We took a creek down the road a ways before exiting onto the road.
I fell behind in the creek and when I got on the road I couldn't see anyone. Found an abandoned part of trail (they decided not to lay that way and switched direction but didn't erase the flour) and looped myself back around into another circle jerk back to the BS... yay (no, there wasn't any more beer).
I re-traced my steps (minus the big tunnel circle jerk) and finally saw flour about 30 yards away from the mark exiting the creek on the side of a tree across a parking lot.
I got back on trail, and followed it for another mile before getting off trail again on an unmarked turn. By then PWD was driving down the road looking for me. I got in and autowanked to the end.
Circle was entertaining and brief as we all had to get ready for Pine Lake H3's Prom From Hell that evening.
PWD gave me a Goodwill Suit he bought that didn't fit him (or me actually, the 40 in. waist was actually a 32, the best I can squeeze is a 34).

Prom From Hell that night was a lot of fun. Drink, dancing, drink, pictures, drink, Flabongo, drink, food, drink and drink. The usual!

Sunday was Black Sheep H3's trail. Much like SoCo, Black Sheep is known for their ultra-shiggy. And to be quite honest, the hares Colonol (sp?) Clit and Little Willy even out-did Squid Dick on the Darkside/SoCo trail in terms of shiggy. I learned the term "hamster tunnel" where the briars and vines are so entwined with the trees that you have no choice but to squeeze yourself as small as possible while navigating the trail. We ran down creeks, over briar patches and into swamp. Trail was probably 90% in the jungle and compared to DS/SC, poorly marked on the second half. To top it off, it was during the day and a brutal six and a half miles. More scratches, but since I could see what/where I was stepping, I was largely able to circumvent anything too gnarly. Though I did get a major slice on the back of my achilles from one briar vine that refused to let go. I should mention that there is poison ivy absolutely everywhere, enough that you really don't take it into too much concern while hashing. You may wear long socks and tights to help with that and the briars, and the ticks, but it's an inevitability. Just bring some 91% rubbing alcohol and wipe down with it at the end of trail. It must work because while I did every trail in running shorts and short socks, I haven't contracted ivy poisoning at all.
For the most of this trail I was in the middle of the pack with Lost and Fucked, Vegetative State (who gave me a ride from Pumpt'kin's) and Skin Flute Pie. The FRB's were long out of sight and sound, but apparantely were adjusting the trail TP to better mark it for us in the back.
We all hung together extremely well, going into a waist deep swamp where I discovered the danger of underwater logs, resulting in a nasty bruise on my outer thigh (oops!). You also have to be careful of Pungee Sticks, the trees that beavers cut down which can be extremely nasty to fall upon.
Trail was lost in the swamp, we circled back upon ourselves, before finally finding marks that led us to under the 404... on the wrong side of the water. Somehow the hare lost part of his pre-lay, and didn't connect the trail he was laying from the On-In to the trail he had laid.
Lost and Fucked called the hares from under the bridge while Vege and I scouted ahead for possible trail. Meanwhile the DFL's caught up and Dain Bramage zenned across the water to the other side, where she found trail. We crossed over in time to run into Little Willie who was sent to come fetch us.
Circle at Black Sheep was probably the most entertaining of all the Atlanta area hashes. Complete with ice sitting, long down-downs and a rule that the hares have to bring a new song to circle. Little Willie and Colonal Clit arriving with a trail rendition of Old McDonald.
I was also presented with Kylie, the Hottest Chick in Copenhagen, to bring with me overseas and present to the Netherland's hash. Apparantely Hugh Heifer and CB&T picked her up while at Interhash in Perth, Australia. Now the little "bird dance" squawking robotic chicken needs a ride home and I've been charged with the task!

Monday was the Moonlight Monday hash, which included a reportedly excellent and low grade shiggy (ivy, water) trail that no one actually ran. The hares laid too close to a Wheelhopper (another area hash) trail that was set a couple weeks prior, everyone arrived at the first check and found the wrong trail to follow. Eventually everyone either went back to the start, shortcut to the end or was out for a REAL LONG TIME. The hares were damn near DFL's to their own hash. We finished at a pizza place and had circle whilst sitting at our tables eating. The hares, Doggystyle and Pippi Longcocking.

Tuesday was Two Four Tuesday, a 4 mile trail with 2 beer stops. Here Man Cruiser actually made me look in the other direction so he could beat me to being FRB to the end. What a racist bastard! We had on afters at an excellent bar where I found they had Delirium Tremens on tap. Came out to find everyone pissing on my car wheel in turns... Wankers.
I give thanks to those who didn't because they kinda saw the line, I give the finger to the pissers.

Wednesday morning I washed my car, went and got my oil changed and then watched the sky open up and heavy rain killing my $8 car wash. Fuck. It's time to get out of Atlanta.

Special Thanks to Pumpt'kin for putting me up at her place, Vegetative State for the ride to the hash, PWD for the suit for Prom From Hell (though fuck you for pissing on my wheel, what do you need, tweezers to handle that thing?) and Skin Flute Pie and hashers Lauren and Harris for doing several of the gnarliest hashes with me including Blacksheep and Darkside/SoCo.

I arrived in Augusta, GA Wednesday night, too late to hash (traffic took me an hour and a half to get out of Atlanta), but caught up with the group at the third beer stop. Attended circle where we saw a hasher get his 69th run in and I mentioned that he could do his down-down upside down like we do in Vegas, it was a hit!
Met some great hashers out there, crashed at ---can't remember names at the moment, will edit this--- and left the next day for Savannah. Couldn't find out the hash information, so I skipped over to the 95 South and started heading to Jacksonville for their Sex On On In The City event this weekend.

HOTlanta? Mylanta? At least it's Atlanta

2008-06-06T07:19:00.000-07:00

I need to rewind for a second to Choo Choo Chattanooga. At the On Afters we were quietly going through hash songs (Jesus Saves in particular) after eating while finishing our beers. I went into my finisher:
Gretzky with the puck, he barrels down the ice, dodging one defender... Jesus at the goal... Gretzky has a clear shot, he positions himself, shoots...
JESUS SAVES! JESUS SAVES! JESUS SAVES!

I had but just finished when from behind me we hear, "and McSorely scores on the rebound!"

Our jaws dropped, we turned around and this old gent with his wife and daughter (and granddaughter) says, "You must be hashers."
Of course we were so we ask if he's one, he is a self professed "recovering hasher" who last hashed in 1983 under the name Gnarly Knot.
We chatted for a bit, he used to hash with Fort Hustus (sp?) and knew many of the older hashers that Choo Choo RA Hugh Heifer knew. All in all, pretty nifty!

Back to current events...
I arrived in Atlanta on Wednesday, stopping on the way in to take a tour of the Talladega (Nights) Super Speedway and the International Motorsports (read: NASCAR) Hall of Fame. Some of the older cars were really fun to look at, but post '80, they all seemed to switch to bare minimum frame with a rollcage and a fiberglass shell. I'd much rather race in something you can buy off a car lot and modify than a "one purpose only" built from the ground up for the oval car. My opinion at least.
Arrived at Pumpt'kin's place about 30 seconds before she got back from work, and we made Snakebites (half Harp Lager, half hard Cider), grilled some steaks, mushrooms and steamed Artichokes and had an excellent meal while talking about life, hashing and what-not.
The next day I helped her out with some gardening, then went and drove around the city for a bit before going to the S.L.U.T. hash.
It was a well laid 4ish mile trail by the hare Mister Fister that included a Natty Light beer check, some backroads and wood shiggy and hot dogs and burgers at the on-in.
I was FRB again, and RA Surly Temple ran the traditional circle with plenty of down-downs before closing things up, sans Hash Hymn #1.
Met a lot of great hashers, found out they don't have a wait period before namings and a couple other differences that I've come to expect from the different hashes I've hashed with over the past month+.
It looks like I'll be in Atlanta through the weekend (and then some) as today (tonight) they've got the SoCo/Darkside hash. A 10 miler through waist deep swamp. Massive shiggy is expected to say the least (they mentioned Kevlar vest on the website?)...
Tomorrow (Saturdee) is the Atlanta H4 (hared by Portugese Water Dog), followed by the Pine Lake H3's Prom From Hell, which is pretty much a block party that the hash is taking over (woot!). Then Sundee is the Black Sheep H3, which apparantely will be standard trail length with tons of shiggy. Mondee is Moonlight Monday Hash and then there's Two For Tuesday, a 2 mile trail with 4 beer checks. Needless to say I'll be busy.
Come Wednesday I'll be getting out of Atlanta and moving South to Savannah, GA where there's a hash running that night. I "half" expect to be in Florida by the weekend, but I'm starting to enter serious multi-hash territory.
I expect major Flabongo-(.com!)-ing in the next couple of days too, I need to clean out the suck-point though just in case there are any hash germs running around on there from when I got sick.

Ah, Birmingham!

2008-06-03T22:40:00.001-07:00

Had an interesting time in this city. Arrived Monday and immediately
found myself on the wrong side of town (by Legion Field). I could tell
immediately that I needed to get back by UAB (University of Alabama
Birmingham), but the reaction I get from locals, I suppose I'm lucky I
didn't get shot... meh.
Anyways, crashed at a Motel 6 for the night, went to Sammy's
Gentleman's Club to pass the time, ended up talking to a stripper
named Heather (real name, don't remember the exotic stage name) for
the better part of an hour about her kids, the degree she's working on
(Veteran psychology) and watching a cat fight between another stripper
and a policeman's wife.
Much better expeerience than in Memphis. Yay. Who needs lap dances
over good 'ol convo? I mean, they're nice and all, but this was pretty
cool.
Today (Tuesday), I went up to the Vulcan statue that overlooks the
city, ate lunch at a local restaurant (Dreamland BBQ) and went to the
hash.
With probably the biggest group this year, the Vulcan H3 had a good,
4.5 mile trail with poorly laid flour up to the beer check and
excellently laid flour after. I'm not really sure what the hares were
after, but they gave a good mix of pavement (maybe a tad too much?)
and shiggy (no ticks this time, yay!). Ran us right past a lady golfer
who just may be showing up to a future hash (if I had anything to do
with it) and finished as an A to A.
I got in as FRB through some deductive luck over the last couple
checks and afterwards the GM/RA Beanie Weenie ran a tight ship on the
usual circle. Standard visitor hash songs for me (24 hrs and Mount You
) were hits as was Doggie's Meeting. Then they sent Hasher Christopher
off for naming.
Not being able to shut my mouth, I offered up a few suggestions
including the one that stuck: Wax On, Rubber Off (though Beanie's
suggestion of: Dude, Where's My Rubber? was genius).
Tonight I'm crashing at Children of the Porn's place (on the couch),
and an added bonus, Pumpt'kin has offered me her place to stay at in
Atlanta through the weekend! I hope to stop by Hugh Heifer and Cock
Block & Tackle's place tomorrow on my way to Atlanta to pick up a
robot chicken that apparantely needs to be returned to the Netherlands
(Hugh picked it up in Perth during Interhash).

Choo Choo Chattanooga

2008-05-31T21:20:00.001-07:00

Friday I drove into Chattanooga feeling pretty iffy, stopped at a
Fazzoli's for dinner, and decided to grab a hotel room and hopefully
recover some. Checked google and found out that Chattanooga's Choo
Choo H3 was running on Saturday. Thought about calling the hare up to
see if something was going on that night, but thought better of it.
Went to Walgreens, bought Nyquil (or the generic non-name brand
alternative), went back to the hotel and crashed... hard.
I woke up the next day around 9-ish feeling like complete ass. Got the
room for the next night and went back to bed. Woke up a little after 2
and figured I'd try and at least attend the hash.
Glad I did! I walked it, but by far the most shiggyriffic trail yet!
3 ticks, unavoidable ivy, it was nuts. There wasn't any paths to
follow, the trail of flour just kinda went in a direction...
regardless of whatever may be in the way. I'd have to say 90% of the
trail pre-beer check was out of a trailing stream. The rest wove in
and out of the surrounding jungle.
Since me and the 2 harriettes walked we were way behind and decided to
shortcut to the on-in (it was an A to A). We had been out for almost 3
hours and were quite ready to end.
Coughing up green wasn't really helping me either.
Nevertheless, the hare Sticky Banana laid an excellent trail.
RA Hugh Heifer did a great job, leading our small pack through circle.
He even had some interesting stories about one Cunter S. Thompson,
whom he ran into at Interhash.
Sticky Banana was kind enough to give me a Choo Choo bandana, so I
donated the remainder of my On-On Ale to the pack.
I'm back at the hotel now, about to crash again from half a bottle of
generic Nyquil. Need to call RU back, but it's almost midnight, so
I'll save that for tomorrow!

Deal or no Deal's Gap

2008-05-30T07:14:00.000-07:00

Finally made it to my one big driving destination of the trip, Deal's Gap aka Tail of the Dragon aka US Route 129 S.
318 turns in 11 miles, an advisable 30 mph speed limit, no guardrails (just trees) and a whole lot of fun!
I got in around 8:00 last night, well after most traffic has passed through, only saw one bike cop. Going into the drive I almost laughed at the reduction in speed to 30 mph, but once the turns arrived I saw the wisdom. These roads aren't wide by any means and 90% of the turns are blind. There is a flow and rhythm to them though, so after I got my zen on, I was able to keep the Blue Demon Wagon in 3rd gear for all but a few of the curves, those happening to be 180 hairpins. I dropped into second, entered the turn at 25 and then pulled through around 35 mph. Lots of fun... I wish my car weren't full of everything because I know that weight is a hinderance. Oh well, can't win 'em all.
Hotels out here are expensive and since I'm already a good couple weeks behind on my imaginary itinerary, I've decided to only spent one night. Most camping is motorcycle only too... So, today I go back up the Dragon and then continue on down South!

I also seem to have picked up a cold somewhere in the past few days. Thought it was Springtime pollen, but Benadryl is being laughed at by my nose. The rest of me also feels slightly off. Need to find a drug store with some Dayquil... Hopefully I'll be over this by the next hash I run across, I also need to clean the Flabongo as a precautionary measure.

mas y mas, Chicago

2008-05-28T21:43:00.001-07:00

Well, I still can't keep up with all my happenings on a day to day
basis, so here's a summary of my last few days in the Windy City.

First off, thanks to my buddy Brett who I stayed with the majority of
my time in Chicago. I think he had fun at the hashes and I enjoyed the
walking tour of downtown Chicago very much.
On Saturday we attended the Second City hash, a more family friendly
environment where young'ns ran around and up until circle we contained
the language that usually accompanies hashes very well. It was a fair
length pavement pounder with some shiggy around the train tracks.
Outside of getting off the arrows a few times it was pretty simple
until the beer check where everyone just said , "Fuck it!" and we all
walked back to the on in (it was an A to A) together.
The beer was stellar with bottles of Sam Adams and even some home brew
which was a touch to strong to do a down down with, but great
otherwise.

Sunday (Sunday, Sunday) was an entirely different affair for Chicago
H3's Memorial Day weekend hash. I figure a good 50 people showed up,
many of us early to snag one of only 30 shirts that the hares had made
up and were giving away. Brett and I got there a good hour early and
we were only just in the top 10 (count...) of people who arrived.
I 'think' the bartender might have known that a running club was
starting there, but I'm 'certain' the sheer volume of us scared the
shit out of her!
So, as a misty rain began to descend over a warm Chicago we took off.
Told that there were 3 (count 'em...) beer checks on trail, I don't
know about the others, but I didn't expect a full 5 miles before stop
one. Mostly pavement with a nice stretch on wood chipped trail along
a river, it was done quite nicely with well placed checks and only one
really long straight section.
It also stands to note that I almost got in a fight as some VW driving
ass clown got all pissy at me over stupid shit.

me: (standing partway in street looking for trail after a check)
him: (making turn in car) "Hey!" (flipping me off)
me: "chill dude, my bad."
I hear someone blow their whistle and take off in that direction.
Turns out we're running down the same street this guy ends up parking
on.
him: (gets out of car and glares at me all evil like as he goes into a door)
me: (run past the door about 10 seconds later, stick my tongue out and
"pppphhhbbbbt!")
Turns out he was waiting just inside the door watching and waiting for
me to pass by! I don't really care...seemed strange, but whatever. I
keep running down the street with Uploader.
Behind me I hear the door unlock and open.
him: Want to do that again fuckwad?"
me: Nope, I think you figured it out already.
Uploader: What's his problem?
me: (explain above) he's a moron.
The guy proceeds to walk after me down the street for a few feet
cursing, but someone yells the Beer Check is not to far ahead so I
just dismiss the situation as him being an asshole who completely fell
for my playful antagonization. Yay me!

After the first beer check we headed (who said head?) out again,
running past a park and covering another two miles before the next
stop where beer and games awaited us.
We lined up in teams to play "Dizzy Bat" and spun/drunk ouurselves to
injury whilst competing for no real prize at all! (I'm serious about
the injury part as Just Eileen broke his hand falling and several
other hashers bloodied elbows or knees falling)
Another half-mile and we ended up in a very nice park by a softball
field for more beer and a very large game of Duck, Duck, Goose!
We played for a while and then took off for another half mile or so
before ending up at Virgin Banger and Rent A Virgin's place. 8 rockin'
miles in all, but it didn't feel nearly that far thanks to the games
and how the BC's were spaced.
As we go in the back gate we're greeted by a GIANT banner recognizing
the hash event and Goose Island's sponsorship (they donated 3 kegs!).
We circled up, did the usual she-bang (her-bang?) with one unusual
twist. When circle started to get a tad bit rowdy, the GM and RA
pulled out "The Cone Of Silence" which was placed on the loudest
person's head (wsh?) and remained there until they either shut the
fuck up, or someone else deserved it more.
Eventually we got to Swing Low, then we commenced to games and eating.
The food was amazing! BBQ and salad filled the plates, and the hares
took up a collection for a fourth keg as we drained the original
three!
The games, from Drinko (thanks Count Chocula!) to Cornholin' kept
everyone entertained and quite frankly it was a grand 'ol time!
We gathered together for a picture by the poster, and drank until we
were out of beer and the busses stopped running.
Oops...
Monday Brett and I tried to go see the Cubs game, but it was sold out
and the scalper prices were outrageous, so we went downtown instead.
Saw Buckingham Fountain (From the Married With Children intro), "The
Bean" (a unique and bizarre work of art) and shook the lactic acid
from our legs. I also got to see a mall with very nice carpeting on
The Mile, which was pretty cool. Oh, and Lego stores rock!
There was a lot I didn't get to do in Chicago that'd I'd really like
to, but the trip must go on! Just had a blast out there. Parking
sucked, but I had a blast. I'll be back someday after this trip.

Tuesday I drove to Indianapolis and met up with online buddy RJ, whom
I've known for several years online and met in person a few times at
Nintendo of America HQ and E3.
Had dinner with him and his fiancee, Kelly, watched The Big Lebowski
(The Dude abides.) and he gave me crash space for the night. A great
guy with a great gal, we played Mario Kart on Wii until close to 4 am!
I slept in today, woke up and RJ and I went out for lunch since Kelly
was at work. Afterwards he was kind enough to burn my pictures onto
DVD before I left.

Traffic hasn't been too bad today. Aimed for Knoxville, TN but only
got to Lexington, KY. Camping by the trains tonight, tomorrow I'll do
some laundry and if luck and time are on my side, hit Tail of the
Dragon in time to get a run in before nightfall!

Chicago - Day One-ish

2008-05-24T08:18:00.000-07:00

Took a couple days to drive up here from St. Louis, camping overnight in Springfield, Illinois (adult home of Abraham Lincoln).
Thanks to traffic getting near the city, a two and a half hour drive takes almost 4 hours, bad enough that I almost miss my whole point for driving in the city on Thursday, the hash!
With little degree for traveling error, I find the start point for the Thirst-day H3. A small Irish Pub called the Hidden Shamrock where I quickly change clothes in the bathroom and have the bar hold my bag before jumping outside to hear chalk-talk and start the run.
It was a good 4 mile pavement pounder (pound her?) with several ridiculously long F's (falses) that left me feeling quite circle jerked many a time (in no way is that good...). Horn-E was a devious hare, somewhat 60 years old and not at all afraid to hang back at checks (dead trail) to point us in the right direction after we wandered like a pack of lemmings with no clue how to get to the sea (?).

Met a lot of great hashers and even had Princess Labia and Stump Humper be kind enough to offer me crash space in their extra room. Slept off the alcohol well and the next day we got to work on our own Drinko board (thank's for the idea Count Chocula!), getting some wood and nails (the wood got nailed?) from the hardware store then heading (who said head?) back to their place to draw a frickin' awesome drunk rabbit on it and plan out where to put the nails.
Then we met up with more hashers at Goose Island to nosh and drink authentic Chicago beer, where I got to meet up with long time internet bud Brett (aka Skitz, aka Immie and whatever handle he posts under these days -mammonman-).
We all hang out, have a good time, blah-blah-blah and then head off. Brett and I continue to another bar near his establishment of residence to continue drinking and the harriettes go home as one of them has a shit-ton of chores to do and the other has a 10 mile run the next morning.
Brett and I hang out and drink for the majority of the night, always staying in that comfortable zone of "avoiding the hangover next morning" with a careful distribution of food and water.
Friday was a good day (to die? ...that's not right.)
So it's Saturday morning, I crashed on Brett's couch last night. We're gearing up for the Second City Hash House Harriers run roughly 2:00 this afternoon. Should be fun, I've never brought a virgin to a hash I'm visiting. Who knows, Chicago may have a new (knew) hasher in the making. Cool!

Pics from top of arch

2008-05-20T14:12:00.000-07:00

123

Chiggers and Ticks and Birthdays, oh my.

2008-05-20T13:20:00.001-07:00

So, I'm sitting atop the arch in St. Louis, Missouri. The really
freakin' big one, I think you know which arch I'm talking about... and
well, it's really damn big!
Saturday I ran with the Little Rock HHH, a solid 5 miler (or so) that
involved at least 2 (possibly 3) brutal hills, waist high grass that
had everyone yelling, "Tick city!" and enough shiggy to shake a bushel
of sticks at. The big kicker is that the hare, Reveend Bob, had a
quadruple bypass about six months ago and a permeating ulcer the size
of a quarter... then ran a 50k... Seriously (wtf!?)
On afters were at a local Italian restaurant where I had an after
dinner birthday brownie and ice cream (yum!).
One more night at Who Flug Poo and Des My TuTu's place before I headed
(who said head?) out toward Memphis, Tenn.
A fairly short drive, I stayed long enough to get raped by ticket
prices at Graceland (35 dollars for a house tour and airplane?) where
I was one of maybe 5 people under the age of 40. Still, it was a nice
abode, but suprisingly small.
Afterwards I stopped by a local strip club figuring a birthday lap
dance would be fun, but left quickly as the ladies were just a tad
(read: frighteningly so) over-friendly. After the 5th one grabbed my
crotch and offered a 'private' dance, I left, hoping I didn't catch
anything by sitting on the bar stool.
High-tailed it out of Memphis for St. Louis, stopping overnight to
camp at a KOA.
Notes: I need to find a laundramat.
Arch is cool, want to run the stairs... wonder if they have a race
akin to the Empire State Building one.
Just asked, no.
Probably will camp outside the city tonight and catch a blues show,
aim for Chicago tomorrow? Indianapolis? Need to find out when they're
hashing.

Also, thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. It's good
to hear/read it when I'm half the country away!

Little Rock

2008-05-17T15:03:00.001-07:00

It seems that I've run across a huge contingen of artists here with
the hashers I've met in Little Rock. The combination of a house party
last night and the possibility of something to do tonight (not to
mention driving time and mileage) has kept me here through tomorrow's
hash. From what I gather, the hare (Reverend Bob) is notorious for
laying the most enduring shiggyriffic trail (think Berzerk Burke with
water moccassins and poison ivy) found in these parts. Last time he
laid trail they had a tick count at the end and K9 Jelly won with a
whopping 72 (9x8)! Should I be scared? meh.

The first couple night I was out here I stayed in a campground near
Hot Springs (boyhood home of Bill Clinton) and yesterday I took
advantage of the town's vicinity (about 45 min west of Little Rock) to
partake in a traditional bathhouse experience. It was pretty nice, hot
tub soak, steam room, body wrap and massage. All for 55 bucks, it was
a nice excursion, though I can't say I needed to relax all that much
as my trip has been pretty chill so far anyway.
Met a nice couple from Missouri at a bar down there. They were
celebrating their 1 yr. anniversary. Had some beer, shots, good times.
Last night (and it looks like tonight) I crashed at Who Flung Poo &
Tis My Tutu's place. A lovely married hasher couple who have been
nothing but friendly and inviting to me since my arrival. They have a
dog that's energetic to the point of "Whoa!" that woke me up by
licking my toes this morning. (?)
Looking forward to trail tomorrow, 10-15 miles is what I 'hear' but I
am not sure if that's a hare lie or not...

Fayetteville and a couple things

2008-05-16T01:08:00.001-07:00

I'll get the couple of things out of the way first.
Number one: I need to blog more frequently, if only to stop the word
vomit I have when I try to post the past week of goodies in one shot.
I feel like I'm missing the gems because I try and cover everything.
Secondly, my tent kicks ass in the rain. Mot that it's all that
important to anyone who reads this, but it is nice to know as Arkansas
is pretty much a rain forest right now. Cooool!

So, back to Fayetteville.Marcus, Beth and their son Hap (happy?) are
simply amazing people. They knew me from a whole in the ground, Beth
hasn't even hashed in ages, but they took me in, fed me, gave me a
place to crash and overall treated me like a family member.
I've never jammed with anyone, but lo and behold, Marcus and his buddy
Bart wailed away at the guitar while I did my darndest to follow along
on my harmonica and it was just great!
The next morning, Bart, Beth and I ran a 5.5 mile trail around Lake
Fayetteville. It wasn't a hash, but it could easily have held up to
one.
I feel that between Marcus and his family and Bart and his that I have
made some life long friends. I truly mean that, just amazing!

Following Marcus' advice and his and Bart's directions, the next day I
took the 'ol pig trail (route 23) down to Little Rock, camping
overnight at Redding campground. Lush green trees everywhere with just
the most amazing road to drive on. High speed twisties and wicked
switchbacks. It was a driver's orgasm to say the least!
The Little Rock Hump hash didn't run on Wed. That combined with my
getting incredibly lost meant I didn't hash. I'm a tad ready to head
(wsh?) up to St. Louis, but the hashers down there seem hell bent on
me staying until Sunday. Going so far as to hold a party tomorrow
(technically today) as a delay tactic. I'll have to see what Cunt For
Red October says when she calls tomorrow. Other than that, I'm camping
out near Hot Springs, plan on hitting the spa/bath house tomorrow.
This trip is taking longer in the US than I originally thought, but
that's not a complaint by any means. Can't wait to see what's next!

Retrofit: KCH3

2008-05-14T14:07:00.000-07:00

Been pretty busy (for a trip like this, I'm often occupied) over the past week and hadn't really had time to write about my time in Kansas City.
I arrived on a sunny Thursday after spending an overcast Wednesday driving over the Kansas plains. Lots of grass, not too much else.
I stopped in a small town and checked out the Wizard of Oz museum. A younger version of me (before the update?) enjoyed the book, but the film was never really at the top as I've never been fond of musicals (though Sweeney Todd: Demon Barber of Fleet Street wasn't half bad). I figured it would be worth checking out anyways, and it was to a point, but far too focused on the MGM film. Turns out Frank Baum wrote 14 Oz books, only the first of which was made into a successful film. The only other one "Return to Oz" bombed pretty bad because it was so dark (Ironically I liked the second film, and it actually did quite well in Japan).

I figured I'd camp outside of Little Rock the day prior, then come in on Friday to look for hashers, but lo and behold, Have Shit, Will Travel got me in touch with his son, Next Best Thing To A Penis Ring and like that (snap fingers here), I had a place to crash for the night.
Now, Penis and his wife, No Blow Joe, are brand spankin' new parents to a 5 week old, so they started firing out e-mails to other hashers with the hopes that I'd have later and more active nights than at their place.
I of course don't mind either way. As hosts for the night they were fabulous, offering beer and a downstairs room with a never-slept-in bed (great story about that!).
Turns out when Penis and No Blow moved into their house a few months back they asked Have Shit to pick out a bed for when he and the misses visits. He did, but hasn't made it back up to Kansas yet. So, I beat Have Shit to his own bed (drink a down-down to that!)!
The next morning, I hung out with Penis to watch over the youngin' while No Blow ran some errands. Then, upon her arrival we headed (who said head?) out to get some food and drink.
Our first choice was closed for remodeling, so we detoured over to Grinderz (featured on the food network as a top dive bar!) to grub and have some fine Kansas City brewed beer. Good food, good times, an ecclectic establishment with one hell of a backyard where they often have live music. I'm talking huge, this place was larger in size than most bars I've been to in Las Vegas. That's just the outside though, the inside was about as wide and deep as the first room at Freakin' Frog.
The next night I crashed at Hasher Jeremy's place, a friend of Penis and quite the cool dude. The next morning he went to his son's football game while I jumped in the shower, then headed (wsh?) to the hash.
KCH3's hare was Chief Horse Pussy, who laid a lengthy 4-miler over roads, down sidewalks, across grass fields, over small creeks and through the woods (where grandmother likes to play?).
It was a cloudy, overcast day with rain coming down like a light mist, hardly enough to be called rain but after the first mile you were drenched from it. Something like running in the clouds.
Two beer checks later we were charging in, shoes covered in mud, dripping from sweat and mist and an overall good feeling.
A few of us ran the half mile back to the cars, changed into drier shirts and less muddy shoes, then returned to Chief and Tiajuana-do-me?'s place for circle. We went through the standard practice of hares, dfl/frb (Lucky me, FRB!? First time on an away trail!), accusasions, birthdays and the like. The one major difference (and this is the first time I've run across it after a complete circle) was no Hash Hymn #1 (Swing low...).
Oh, and there were a pair of new shoes in circle, courtesy of Get Off, I'm Next (G.O.I.N.) who shoed (yeah, shoed, not showed!) up with these slip-ons that had individual toes. It was really strange, like a second foot to wear over your own (I'm jealous, I want a pair now...). After that trail, the Natty Light was probably more like Guinness going down (eww.).
We hung out for a while until it was time to go (feel better Tiajuana!), and several of us piled in and followed through now driving rain (driving in the driving rain?) to I Iz Ez's apartment, where we hung out for a bit before jumping in her boyfriend's car (hasher, can't recall his name at the moment, please forgive me.) and headed to a bar where we set-up shop and took over the dart board with pitchers of Flying Monkey Ale and some other beer.
From there we went back to I Iz Ez's place and chowed down on McDonald's and watched The Dark Crystal.
Some left, G.O.I.N. and I stayed as we didn't really feel smart to drive and Ez and her man went to bed.
A few minutes later in pops Give The Bitch A Ring (G-Bar) saying that she's needs to piss and when she's done G.O.I.N. and I need to come out with her, Ass Packa and Hasher Aaron (? could be wrong on the name). We politely decline until she offers to pay for our drinks. Ok, sure, I'll go!
We jump in a car and head to a gay bar (what is it with hashers and gay bars?) where G-Bar get's charged a cover (ha ha!). We go in, get beer and watch cross dressers fake sing Diana Ross and Celine Dion songs (?) and what-not.
We congregate upstairs which is all hip-techno-like, drink more and chat. None of us straight guys got hit on once while there. So I figure we're either really unattractive to gay guys, or we exude an aura of straightness that's like DEET for mosquitoes on gay guys. Doesn't really matter, I go to G-Bar for more drinks. She gives me a wise-ass line, I throw one back, she says, "you're not getting laid." and I say, "wasn't in the plan."

...later on she says she plans on molesting me.

...She's far too drunk to follow through, ha!

We all go back to Ass Packa and her boyfriend's place, they're in the middle of packing to move to Scottsdale, AZ (watch out Phoenix H3!) with G-Bar. There I kick major ass at Mario Kart Wii, then they pull out a mattress for me to sleep on. G-Bar's passed out on the couch, finding out the next day she slept in dog piss. Oops!
That reminds me, more cool hash dogs, Frida (Penis and No Blow's) and Brittney (Ass Packa's boyfriend's).

The next day we drive over to I Iz Ez's to pick up the cars, I get my phone which I forgot in Ez's place (thanks Ez!), I drive around town one last time, have lunch at Town Topic, then head down South to Fayetteville, Arkansas! (Which I gave the low-down on in my last post).

Today I arrived in Little Rock, Arkansas, and in about an hour I hope to meet with some hashers for their Hump Hash. Though it doesn't look like there will be a trail (should I offer?), at least there will be drinkin'!

Sittin' in Fayetteville, Arkansas

2008-05-13T07:54:00.001-07:00

So, right now I'm at a Subaru dealership where yesterday I drove by to
make an oil change appointment (have I driven 3000 miles already?).
Turns out the man at the front desk is married to a harriette named
Butt Smear Wedgeworth! They invited me over for a dinner last night
and gave me crash space. It was the craziest thing ever and happened
just because Marcus (dealership guy) saw my On-On magnet, yelled
"On-On!" and asked if I was a hasher!
Southern hospitality is in full swing!
I'm going to rewind a bit in my next post, and go into deatil about
the blast I had in Kansas City with those hashers, but at the moment
Marcus, Butt Smear, their 2 yr old and myself are going out to
breakfast! Go Razorbacks!

Colo (it's RAD yo)

2008-05-06T20:56:00.000-07:00

So, following a tortuous drive north through New Mexico, I arrive in
Colorado, noticing an instant change in scenery, temperature and
overall calming down of things. Knowing that there's a Pike's Peak H3
trail the next day I manuver my way through the ever winding streets
looking for someplace to set up shop.
Instead I go to the nearest theater (that I could see from the
highway) and watch Harold & Kumar Escape Guantanamo Bay.
Excellent movie, I recommend it, especially if you saw the first one
since the start of Gitmo is directly after the events of the first
movie.
Anyways, on my way out of the theater I Google (it's a word too, not
just a website!) Colorado, hash) and find out that the Colorado Kimchi
Hashers meet and drink Fridays at the Artic Craft Brewery, owned by 7
Second Pump and home of the On-On Ale, brewed for hashers, by hashers.
I down a few ales and while chatting with 7 Second Pump, in comes MILF
and his gal, Bicycle Bleeder. A couple more beers and MILF offers to
board me for the night. How frekin' cool! We continue to drink until 7
Second Pump kicks us out.
I wake up late the next day, just in time to jump in my car, grab some
nosh and drive to the start of trail.
This was supposed to be Bloody Z's big bash, an A to Z 26 shotcheck
trail, but as MILF and I discovered the night before, Z was being
'detained' in Washington and couldn't make his own trail
(dun-dun-duuuun!).
However, Pike's Peak hashers are a resourceful bunch and managed to
set up a last minute trail. It was a good 4-5 miler and not being
accustomed to a higher altitude, my butt was thoroughly kicked.
Colorado gave me my first good water crossing on my trip. Going twice
over a fairly large river. Not deep, but a good 20-25 feet across. It
reminded me a lot of the river crossed during the LVHHH 1000th. The
only downer that I ran across was the bar chosen as a start point was
shut down a couple weeks prior. Oops hares!
Religion was similar to my home Hash in Vegas and took place on the
band stage at our ending bar. Fittingly enough, "24 Hours Ago" was a
hit as a hash song.
After On-Afters, I went to see Iron Man (great flick! Kinda surprising
for a comic book movie) and, unable to reach MILF; I zenned my way to
the Artic Craft Brewery and sat around chatting and drinking until
almost 1 a.m. (the sour there is to kill for, and he brews an 11%
milkstout!)
I purchased a shirt and John (7 Second Pump) was kind enough to give
me a 6-pack of On-On Ale for the road and an Artic Craft Brewery
glass! I'll have to make a point to see if he can't get some beer out
to the next Lee's Beer Experience...
Slept very comfortably at a Day's Inn arounf the corner before waking
up just in time again to nosh and drive the 80 odd miles to Sunday's
trail run by the Boulder Hash.
I seem to have adjusted well from the day prior, and coupled with some
very intuitive decisions made at checks, I found myself quite often up
with the FRB's (On-One! On-Two... Hare Arrow!). Up hills, down steep
inclines, across roads and teasing us all with a run alongside a creek
and no water crossing, but one hell of a checkback 69 to keep the pack
together! I was beat and inpressed by the end. Boulder Has also gave
me my first good blood on trail. Not just scratches, but a nice flow
from my lower leg! (Should I be excited for bleeding? I am!)
Circle was held just off the Platte River (?) with much gusto by the
GM (whose name escapes me now).
I had the good (mis)fortune of meeting many fantastic hashers who
offered me travel tips, mentioned hashes to check out in Europe and
asked about how fellow Vegas hashers are doing.
Standing out was Do Little, wearing a Vegas Rat Pack HHH shirt that he
said Hunka Hunka Burnin' Shit gave him a few years back. That was
really cool to run into.
From there I got ahold of Happy Sock who gave me directions to a place
she lives with 2 roomates. One a non-hasher and the other Nappy Headed
Whore, a cool gal with an amazing dog (Monty?). All 3 ladies had dogs,
but Nappy's just blew me away for some reason. Much like Jake (Fatty
and Deep Dish's dog) did in Tucson.
It was late, we were all tired, so I took the couch and everyone went
to their respective rooms and crashed.
The next day I went up to Pkie's Peak and went for a run. Following
Barr's trail about a mile and a half (3/4?) up the 13 mile trail that
tops the mountain was intensely brutal, but I must admit one the
panting stopped and I could breathe somewhat normally again, the view
was outstanding and I felt incredibly refreshed! Coming down the
mountain I found a cell phone and (after answering a call from the
owner's daughter!) turned it in to the Cog RY Yard only to run into
the owner while getting in my car. I can only hope if I lose my phone
on this trip, someone does the same for me.
After the run, I went to Garden Of The Gods, taking pictures and
having a sandwich before driving up to the Cave Of The Winds and
paying too much for an excellent underground tour. To be honest
though, despite the prospect of being lost in a maze of caverns, the
guided tour did leave me wanting to explore alone rather than tag
along in a group.
Returning to Manitou Springs, I filled my water bottles with fresh
spring geyser water. Bubbling forth and sometimes spraying violently
from pump faucets, it tastes like Perrier only without the self
importance.
Happy Sock called while I was galavanting around and offered to take
me out for a drink when she was done at work. With a chance to stay
another day in this beautiful state (you could see Pike's Peak
hovering in the background of almost everything) I couldn't refuse.
Besides, I wanted another go at Pike's Peak and a chance to check out
the Anasazi cave dwellings. So we drank, talked, met up with Nappy and
some of her softball buddies, talked and drank some more, until it
grew late, then we all headed back to the house and slept well
(comfiest couch EVER!).
Today (Tuesday) I went back to Pike's Peak, but forewent running it,
vowing that next time I'm this way I'll do the entire run. I must
admit, I felt very drawn to stay and take a couple days to backpack up
it, but the town of Manitou Springs has really captured my imagination
and I was already finding it hard enough to leave today.
So, instead, I drank more natural spring water, climbed up, in and
around Anasazi cave dwellings and listened and looked for ghosts at
Miramar Castle (nothing!).
Leaving Colorado late in the afternoon I drove East on Route 24,
turning onto I-70 and stopped at this really nice campground just shy
of the Colorado/Kansas border.
There's lightning in the sky all around me so I put up my rainfly, and
now it's time to sleep. Tomorrow, Oatmeal and more driving. I expect
to hit Topeka at worst, Kansas City at best.
Point of note: Colorado has given me my best gas mileage of the trip
so far with 29.33 mpg!

El Paso

2008-05-03T17:06:00.001-07:00

So, a quick recap.
I drove into Las Cruces, NM on Monday, stayed the night and continued
into El Paso, TX on Tuesday.
I got there bout 30 hours before the Border Jumpers Hash started, so I
got a room at the Mesa Inn, where the hashers stayed during TexMex.
What a dump! The first night my bed was missing a post, the second
night (new room) bedbugs. I needed to switch rooms around 1 am because
of them, all over...
Combined with a not so hot time strolling to and through El Juarez
(almost didn't get back in because I didn't bring a passport), and I
can honestly say El Paso isn't on the top of my list as a city.
On the other hand, it was the first place I ran outside of a hash and
I did find a nice neighborhood, build in the late 60's/ early 70's.
They also have a kick ass hash with the border jumpers. The trail was
short (2 miles), overly well marked, and somehow kept everyone
together by the end. The GM, Butt Darts is a great guy and gave the
lowdown on the upcoming weekend.
I wasn't the only visitor either, as this gal from the Okinawa Hash
was stopping through. With a Japanese name, I couldn't remember it,
but given the background on the literal translation of "Loud Pussy", I
ended up just calling her, "Queef In The Canyon."
Good fun!
The next day, I took a 2 day drive north through New Mexico, stopping
only to check out the Hot Springs in a town called Truth Or
Consequences and to camp overnight (and freeze my ass off) just North
of Santa Fe.
Got into Colorado Springs yesterday, and I'll save all those goodies
for the next update!
On-On

Jhavelina Hashers

2008-04-29T13:59:00.000-07:00

This picture is Poppa Don't Peek and his lady, Roxy. The second one is, from left, I Love Fat Chicks, Deep Dish and Sexortionist, with Is It In Yet's (3IY's) arm in the foreground. The last one is a bartender inflating a condom on his cranium.

Tucson and jHavelina rock!

2008-04-29T13:44:00.001-07:00

I arrived into Tucson on Friday, following slightly vague e-mail
instructions from Charlotte The Harlot about "hashy hour at the Meet
Rack."
Took my chances guessing on location as there was no sign, only an
oddly colored building.
Inside I was looking through pictures wondering if I found the right
place and spotted "I Love Fat Chicks'" (hereby referred to as Fatty)
face amongst others on the wall. I was immediately reassured, walking
around some more reading up on the eccentric former Ironman
ex_military prior owner (his liquor -poker?- license was revoked) who
changed his name to GOD (Party or Die!).
Wonder if he's walked on water too...
Ran into some hashers whom I never met and Bearded Clam, who told me
Fatty was on his way. Cool.
When Fatty arrived I talked to him for a tad, while he didn't really
recognize my voice (speech wasn't slurred yet?). Then he turned and
gave a quote for thhe ages (this age at least) of "What the fuck are
you doing here!?"
I went into my hashing world tour yap and he immediately offered his
place to stay (Kick ass!).
As the other hashers left, we sat and shot the shit (better than
dynamiting it) until we headed (who said head?) back to his spot to
clean up before going out again (to the meet rack) and drink cheap
beer and look at sorority girls.
I also got to meet two of the coolest dogs (dags) ever. Tika and Jake.
Jake had the look of coyote and the same wariness of strangers. I made
it my point to befriend him before the end of the week.

Saturday I woke up early but stayed in bed for a while before going
out. We all chilled in the pool and I get to Fatty's son (who came
over from his mother's) and had the pleasure of talking to the
Harriette in the house, Deep Dish.
An incredibly lovely gal, we all sat in the pool and had a couple
beers, discovering partway how much air they need to stand upside down
on the bottom of the pool (they floated like seaweed!).
The hash took place at 4, but Deep Dish had to work, so it was just me
and Fatty.
Getting there, who do I run into but 3IY (or Is It In Yet?) from Phoenix!
Trail itself was shiggyriffic (don't know anyone who didn't get cactus
in them at some point) with 2 water checks and a (far too late for my
tastes, but I didn't hare so can I really bitch?) beer check about 20
yards from the end.
They do things differently in Tucson, turning on flour, Decision
Points instead of checks, but I suspect I'll run into these variations
everywhere, so I just went with it.
They had a a lively circle and I won the end of trail nature quiz
(!??!) garnering an Odwalla bar (yum!).
The On-after was at Famous Sam' readily the most frightening place
I've yet been to, as I walked into the restroom to take a piss and ran
smack dab into a coke deal with a bunch of red-eyed Mexicans. One with
powder still dropping from his nose. They shouted at me to join them,
I politely declined. Fatty and I got the fuck out of there, leaving
behind the only remenants of our lively group, three virgins!
We cleaned up again, then (rather than risk center of town dui
checkpoints where the virgins had gone to) returned to the Meet Rack
where the newer bartender flashed us with large fake titties (no,
wait, that was Friday) on request.
Did meet with Poppa Don't Peek (who I met Vegas RDR) and his
girlfriend, who is about 4' 10-11, 95lbs and downright gorgeous. She
was also drunk off her rocker, saying "Hey!" like Pikachu says "PikaS
(but much cuter) and showing off her body in ways that wouldn't have
been allowed in most other bars!
We all took off, going to Poppa's place (where 3IY was staying) and
took in a show worthy of a private dance at a Vegas Strip club! Then
late night mexican food, more beer, go back to Fatty's and crash.
Woke up Sunday, something had bit my legs to hell overnight near my
ankles. Wore sandals instead as we went out to meet with other at No
Anchovies! for cheap beer and good pizza. There we watched the game
for a bit and the group split up with quite a few going next door to
Frog n' Frick's (Freakin' Frog 2.0?) instead.
Studmuffin and Sextortionist came and joined us shortly after and the
Tucson split that I had overheard at times became readily noticible.
Hash drama I have no business in, so I'll leave it at that (and to the
jhavelina's).
At that point, 3IY, Fatty, Deep Dish, Poppa, his girl Roxy, Stella,
the udderly bi-fella (who had joined us), Stud and Sex all went over
the the Yardhouse (gay bar) to kill time and shorten the distance to
some hotel bar where we watched George (the sole male bartender at
Meet Rack) play guitar in a jam band (Phish?).
Afterwards, as Roxy returned to, "Hey!" mode, we packed up and
finished the night at Fatty's, though Fatty himself was out of
commision at that point.
Pizza and beer, what a great way to finish up the weekend!
That and I also got Jake to jump up on me, which apparently this dog
just doesn't do to relative strangers. So get that, I'm good with
amininimals!
Just an amazing weekend, Tucson really threw up (er... out) the red
carpet for me from the moment I walked into town. Fatty and Deep Dish
especially!
Between here and Phoenix, if I only get half as much friendliness from
other hashes I run across, it'll still be a good time!
Monday morning I headed out towards El Paso, but stopped in Tombstone,
AZ to partake in the cash crop of the American Southwest. Drank where
Doc Holiday (Alcoholiday, Ph.D?) drank, and wandered around taking a
few pictures while avoiding the stuff they charged for while getting
some history from the costumed locals.
Drive seemed to take forever, stopped to see "The Thing!?" (glorified
mummy... felt sorry for it) and continued on until dark into Las
Cruces, staying at a Super 8 where I did some laundry in the sink.
Today I have arrived in El Paso, where the Border Jumper hash has a Wed pick-up.
I'm actually at a library near the start now. Hope their real website
has some contact info since I didn't see any on my mobile internet.
Will probably head (wsh?) North towards Alburquerque Thursday morning,
aiming to hit Colorado for Cinco De Mayo weekend.

Fwd: He's alive and healing well!

2008-04-26T22:45:00.000-07:00

retry!

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Alcoholiday <alcoholidayhhh@gmail.com>
Date: Fri, 25 Apr 2008 11:44:33 -0700
Subject: He's alive and healing well!
To: go@blogger.com

Signed Victor Victoria's cast today. Got to shoot the shite for a few
minutes while outside his office. His knee can already bend again and
most of the cast should be gone in a day or two. Never knew anyone
could recover so quickly from such nastiness. Amazing!
Mount n' Spread offered a trip to Payson where some PhoenixH3ers will
be cheering on My Name Is Chuck as he attempts a 50 miler (crazy
fuck!). I'm pondering it, but my wanderlust is starting to kick in and
I'm sensing Tucson for Sat.
Phoenix is a lot like Vegas, but it seems to be slightly more humid
and spread out.
...nifty.

Phoenix d'Hump

2008-04-24T12:48:00.001-07:00

So, driving like a bat out of hell (out of purgatory), yesterday I
left Las Vegas heading (who said head?) East towards Phoenix.
I covered the 301 mile distance in a somewhat agreeable span of 5
hours. In between highway speeds of 80ish and small town diversions of
down to 35, agreeable is the term...
I arrived after the hares left, but while the pack was there. A quick
change in the bathroom and I was ready to go.
D'Hump definitely does things differently than a standard trail. Very
informal pick-up style, no religion. The most hash_like events
occurred on trail with both a boob check (yay!) and a 69 check (?).
We finished at a bar in Tempe where there were nickel miller lites
(beer?) and food.
Cost was a buck (a deer!) to offset the pickup flour.
Made my first away trade where I gave Mount n' Spread my Dirty Panties
t-shirt in exchange for a Tex-Mex one.
The hashpitality here is excellent! Plan on meeting with Victor
Victoria later today and designing a shirt logo for Is It In Yet.
Tomorrow's Tuscon (perhaps)!

LVHHH Canoe Trip 2008

2008-04-14T18:16:00.000-07:00

The Pirates of the Colorado River have struck again, this time in a different direction! Heading (who said head?) downriver from our usual ending spot of Willow Beach, AZ we took an 8 mile paddle (truthfully a 4 mile paddle and a 4 mile tow) to a secluded cove just off of the river. The trip down was a zig-zagging affair with hashers getting used to controlling their paddle operated motion devices and taking breaks along the way to have water fights and create general chaos for chaos' sake (because if you don't do something for Chaos' sake, who will?).
The first heavy casualty occured early on however, when P.I.M.B.'s camera went overboard while attempting to procure frosty beverages for fellow canoers Pre-Whack and Kracka. (R.I.P. la photografia). Nevertheless, rum makes everything better (until the next morning) and the day moved on (on-on).
Arriving at the beach, there was set-up of camp, with everyone playing care to keep the heavy snorers at arms distance (to the best of their ability). And once that was done, drinking commenced until the arrival time of the 'Great P.O.T.A.T.'
Sneaky hare Special (Charleston Heston) Ed took off with Virgin Hare Hasher Jeff and they went over both hill and dale to lay a clever trail for the pack to follow.
Follow we did, except for one unfortunate hasher by the name of Victor Victoria (Victor2ia?) who shortcut his way off the side of a mountain. In what has been the scariest thing I've ever actually seen at a hash, he lost his battle against gravity and tumbled like a rag doll down the hill (more like a cliff) bouncing off outcroppings on his way down. Some of us called for help, some of us ran straight down, some of us ran back to the boat to prep it for rescue.
Fortunately our hasher bretheren was alive, laying at the bottom of the crevice. We'd find out the next day that an arm cast and 12 stitches later, our tough Canuk will be around to hash again!
With enough people standing around looking for ways to help (is 30 enough?), six of us LVHHH hashers decided that Mr. Victoria would want us to finish trail and we continued on the Great Planet Of The Apes Trail, discovering an ice cold beer check with glorious banana bread beer awaiting consumption. After a few (3) bottles shared amongst us, we took the rest in our bags and accepted that we were the only ones on trail. Continuing on we came across scenery that the word 'breathtaking' can only be an understatement. It was like being on another planet and I only wish more hashers could have shared in the amazing sights.
Coming down from the higher reaches of the trail (with more success than our good buddy), we arrived at the bottom of a ravine where a second beer check lay. Dark and thick like the oil of our cars (but much, much tastier!) we got an update from the hare that our fellow hasher was indeed on his way to the hospital and very much alive. With cheers to it all, we followed the ravine back into camp and prepared to eat a primo excellent (o?) shish-ka-bob dinner.
There was circle, I don't really remember it, but I was informed I was a bit of an ass, so to everyone I apologize. I should lay off the heavy booze (thinking) and focus on the moment. Cheers!

Sunday (Sunday, Sunday!) we returned up-river, getting towed by Hasher Jeff in his mighty sailboat of awesomeness (boat name: Nauti Buoy). We stopped for lunch in the same area we did before, but this time there was a trail led by the mighty Hunka-Hunka Burnin' Shit and the illustrious Koresh. For those willing to traverse the Eagle route, there was an outstanding view check and an incredibly long rendition of "I Used to Work in Chicago." It was worth doing, even in flip-flops! After which we had another circle and tied back on to the Nauti Buoy. Outside of a couple capsizes along the way, everyone made it safe and sound back to Willow Beach. We unloaded and headed (who said head?) back into town.

Beers and cheers to everyone who made this trip the true adventure it was. May next year's river trip continue the trend!

On-On

Catch-up on Betty Ford 3/1-2

2008-03-05T20:07:00.000-08:00

Alas, this shall be a short one (kinda, sorta, maybe?). Since the leather/lingerie pub crawl there were two (count 'em...) hashes. Here's a brief synopsis of both!

Saturday(dee)'s hash was an almost strict pavement pounder. Something that left several hashers thinking back to the glorious Betty Ford Rehab trails of yesteryear. Where were the mountains? The valleys? The Lyme disease? With all these beautiful country surrounding Palm (of the) Springs, how on bloody earth can we be slamming shoe on blacktop with such frequency?

Fortunately for this Vegas hasher (Viva, Las Vegas!), pavement is nothing new. We have our shiggy, but there's nary been a crooked street that I haven't run down (well, many streets I haven't run down, but fuck 'em), nary a wash channel I haven't scoured (this may be truer than the last), and I can jump walls like a cast member from Prison Break (weekly on FOX, watch for new episodes in future weeks).

All this came in handy (Jack Handy) of course as we began to head (who said head?) down a wash channel and both slip and (or) slide on algae fed sludge. After a quenching beercheck, did this hasher continue down the wash? YES! Did he go into the tunnel at the end? NO! Using ninja like manuvers, I leapt both chain and concrete block, steel and girder to rise above underground sections, saving myself from the dreaded "web head" (Spidey, is that you?) that plauged many of the spelunking hashers.

The end of trail led to a fanciful shinding chock full of libations (beer), drinks (beer), water (beer) and food (goes well with beer).

A (Ultraaaaaaa!) combo of ESB Red Hook, Rolling Rock (Papa was a rolling rock?) and Iron Hammer IPA left a good buzzing in my head that was only added to via a superb hash band!

That night consisted of watching some excellent making out sessions (no me partido), drinking more ESB, and just vegging out in the hot tub. Ending with my having to pull an unintelligible Pre-whack's bare ass (not the only one, and dude could use a tan. Try Bronzed on Paradise & Harmon, Hasselhoff goes there... So does Jenna Jameson).

On to day three (one... two... four! NO, THREE!).

Sunday's (Sunday, Sunday... You'll pay for the whole seat, but you'll only need the EDGE!) trail was a mother (Danzig) that made up for all the non-shiggy of Saturday. Up and up (and up!) we went, cresting nearby mountains in ways that left us all breathless in both energy spent and views taken in. It also sweated out many a hangover from Saturday's drink (drunk?) fest. The skill and athleticism of these hashers, many of them several years my senior, was something to be admired and lived up to. They attacked these hills and cliffs like the beaches of Normandy (Norman+ Mandy, think about it!) joint pain be damned!

Two beer checks were refreshing stops with the second being on the way down. Oh how sweet the way down was, straight down what looked like a natural wash or dry creek. With large rounded boulders that dropped off into soft sand, it was possible to just fly over them and bound with little thought to the consequence of a bad landing. Also a good time to catch up as many of the fastest hashers going up the hills seemed to have a slower step on the way down.

So flying (like Batman, it's not really flying, but looking from a distance, you could understand if someone was confused) like a monkey from a research lab down, down, down (down!), to the On-In. Where we boozed and flabongo'd (http://www.flabongo.com/) before heading (wsh?) back to the hotel for tasty vittles.

Would you say grand? I would say, yes!

A few thanks, Special Ed for the costume help and the room, OCHHH for hosting and Eager & Here2 for offering room space even though I didn't use it (consideration counts!). Also to Lance-A-Nut for coming up with that kick ass "Liverstong" shirt. I didn't pick one up, but that thing is just too great!

Betty Ford Rehab Hash XXII

2008-03-01T12:36:00.001-08:00

Day one has been a complete success! In all interest of redemption (ressurection?) the Jim Loved Leather pub crawl ended with a happy drunken dance, which is much much better than passing out behind Sonny Bono (you too)!
The costumes were quite fab(ulous) as many of my contemporaries went the lingerie route, I saw several red dress reworkings for this event as well. This makes sense given the cost of leather these days (nights?). The moustache/elvis shades + assless chaps were a blast (explosion) that left no one who could look at me with a straight face for more than 5 seconds. Hell, half the people couldn't even recognize me! Even better as the 'stache was a Foster's (Australian for beer) secret agent kit!
So... On to day 2 (II;two;too;tu)!

Btw, wrote a hash song to Gorillaz song Clint Eastwood.

I'm hashing, I'm feeling glad
They've got flour, in their bag
This trail is, way too long
Let's look for, another on-on

I'm hashing, I'm feeling glad
I've got beer, in my hand
I'll drink it, and before long
I'll need more, 'cause it'll be gone

Test

2008-02-16T12:21:00.000-08:00

If I've done this right, I should be able to create blogs directly through my e-mail (ooh, wow).
I can apparently send pictures too, but I have a feeling they will be (crappy) camera phone ones.
Quality pics and blog editing will just have to wait until I get computer access (which is complete ass, but what can I do?).
Sent from a stop light while getting snack bitch food for today's hash...

In the beginning...

2008-02-15T19:29:00.000-08:00

...there was Gispert.

I (me, myself and I, to be precise) am the member of the Las Vegas Hash House Harriers (Viva, Las Vegas!), who is known as Alcoholiday (currently, as I've been known for having these things changed).

While I have only been hashing for the briefest period (menstral) of time (4 years this May), I believe I have found the missing piece of my life that I have wandered aimlessly searching for since grade school.

I seems strange, a straight (mostly-ish) A kid, didn't really drink 'til I was 25 (what a shocker: index/middle/pinky) should find himself most at home with "The Drinking Club With A Running Problem" but hey, these things happen (like death and taxes).

I could give a bunch of (useless) info about myself. How I grew up (5' 11.5"), who I hung around (Mario, Link and Squaresoft), my political views (I wear glasses) and what not, but if you're not in a coma (zzz) already, that would probably do it.

However, there's a point to all this (sharp, rusty) and that is I've decided to take a trip around the world. Simple, no? (yes?)

What in the hell does this have to do with hashing (you may or may not ask)? Well, luck has it that the Hash House Harriers are a global (dis)organization. Happily (re: drunken) galomphing across the globe since their start in 1938. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_House_Harriers#History

So, since I'm already going in that direction (Wagon's East! Starring: John Candy), why not turn my trek into a global hash? (rhetorical question)

Since the Internet (The Wired, The Interwebs, The World Wide Web, free music and porn) is also global, it seems like a novel (short story? epic poem?) idea to chronicle all the Hash House Harrier kennels I visit in this here web log (web+log-we=blog!).