Hare it is

Being a Hare is dirty work sometimes.

Everyone survived yesterday’s Hash which is always my primary goal as a Hare. A handful did the entire trail, and as I expected, the “die-hards” found it boring for the most part. Eh, you can’t please everyone. We tried to incorporate a hill climb but found the conditions too slippery for the group’s safety. So, sorry to disappoint, but not sorry.

Now, we did have a part of the trail early on that was pretty challenging. I had wanted a new way out of Alta Vista, and my co-Hare (and neighbor) Anal Receptive found a pretty rugged path that has been little used of late. In fact, he had to go out with his machete and do some whacking in places to make the path passable. There were also some rocks to be climbed, and he sprayed them with a bleach solution to kill the algae. All credit to him for that effort.

Let’s go to the pictures, which I obviously didn’t take. Thanks to Pubic Head and some other Hashers for documenting their journey. The fact that no photos from the “long” version of the trail exist says a lot. We had 39 in attendance; I’d wager no more than 5 of them did the whole trail. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. Hell, I’m notorious for my own shortcutting!

The trail we laid as seen from above.
The Hashers gather up at the VFW.
Your humble Hare providing last-minute guidance to the kennel.
And they are off!
A stroll through Alta Vista
And then into the jungle they go.
A wall in the middle of nowhere that appears to serve no purpose. Someone put a lot of time and effort into building it, though. There must be a broken dream story in there somewhere.
This was not the path I had envisioned when I had my big idea about a “new way.” Anal Receptive tried my route, but it was a dead end. So, this was plan B.
It had its ups and downs.
And got a little rocky in places.
Everyone loves a challenge, right?
I didn’t take this picture.
It got a little thick in places.
Lending a hand on the rock climb.
And at last, free of the jungle!
Okay, everybody. The hard part is over.
Well, except for the puddles.
One false step, and you’re a wet man!
You’ve got it in the bag!
And yes, we have a couple of folks who actually run the trail.
And the rain held off too.
Jessa is crossing bridge #3 with her new beau, Covid-69. This was her third Hash, so she’ll get named after two more.
Approaching the intersection where the trails split–short turns left, long goes straight.
Heading up Govic highway to the On-Home.
This week’s On-Home venue was Smokes and Bottles.
Circle up!
Hares on the ice along with anyone else who professed to like the trail. A Hash tradition.
S-H-I-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L
Shitty trail, (it sucked!)
Shitty trail (it really sucked!)
The Hares have laid another shitty trail
I would rather drink this beer 
Than run your shitty trail
S-H-I-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L
Jessa’s first time on the ice, she was charged with littering on the trail. She dropped her sweat towel, and someone behind her found it and brought it back to the circle for investigation.
And no post would be complete without some Hash Gash, or Harriettes, if you prefer.

I drank my share of San Mig Zeros, then hitched a ride back home with my co-Hare. It was an early night, even by my standards, but I’d had enough. Besides, there is always tonight.

4 thoughts on “Hare it is

  1. Riddle me this:

    (1) You guys are Hash House Harriers.
    (2) A “harrier” is a type of bird.
    (3) The ensemble of your membership is called a “kennel.”

    So are you birds or dogs?

    (Or, like the Everly Brothers song, are you bird dogs?)

  2. I did not know that harrier was a bird.

    However, as a former cross country runner, I do know that runners are referred to as harriers.

  3. Brian and Kevin, I, too, ran cross country in high school and was referred to as a Harrier. In this context, it’s not about a bird but derives from an old English schoolyard game called “Hares and Hounds.” In the Hash version, the Hashers are the hounds, hence the term “kennel.”

    You may find this brief history of the Hash interesting. I did.

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