Back in 1991 my friend T-Bone introduced me to The Hash House Harriers. No, it is not a diner. It is a loosely organized non-competitive international group that describes themselves as a ‘drinking club with a running problem’. You see why I would be attracted to such an organization. I dropped in to visit T-bone in Atlanta and he told me how this club ran races most Saturday afternoons (and late night during full moons as well as Friday the 13th and a few other other odd times) and asked if I might want to run that weekend. Always up for an adventure, I agreed.
We got to the announced starting point of the race early enough to mingle with a few of the group’s seasoned veterans, Harriers and Harriettes with sophisticated nicknames like Cunning Runt, Wanna Pecker and Panty Waste. They told me that each race is unique and went over a few of the basics with me. The previous race’s winner becomes the next race’s Hare. Their task is to announce where the next race starts and to set up the secret route. The trail can start and go anywhere; the more creative the better. Some of the best courses run through parks, streets, parking lots, back yards, streams, etc. I even heard of one that went through the lobby of an office building. The course has traditionally been marked by an occasional splotch of flour dropped on the ground although more recently paper, chalk and other pre-designated materials have been used as clues to show the runners which direction the trail might go.
After several dozen other Harriers arrived (some with horns, whistles, paddles, wacky hats…), the race started. The splats of flour on the ground marked that you were on course but did not indicate what direction the trail went next. Since no one but the Hare knew where the actual trail went, the speedier runners sprinted off into different directions until someone found the next marker. That person would then blow their whistle, honk their horn or simply yell out that they were ‘on’ and everyone else would head towards them often asking other runners ‘are you’ to make sure they are going in the right direction. This organized chaos would repeat itself as we ran through the streets of a residential neighborhood, into a few backyards, over a low fence, around a small kiddie park, near some office buildings, next to a small pond and finally finishing in a thick wooded area.
Other ‘Kennels’ (chapters) of the Hash House Harriers run their races differently. Some are ‘live’ where the Hare gets a short head start and marks the trail as he tries to elude the rest of the group. Race courses that are laid out by the Hare in advance are called ‘dead’. Either way, a good Hare will set up lots of twists, turns and several false trails. Faster runners will ‘check’ or make off false trails as they go, to help the slower walkers that follow to stay on course. There is a cachet to winning but there is definitely a ‘getting there is half the fun’ attitude. There are over a thousand Hash groups with at least one in almost every major city around the world.
The Hare’s other important duty is to meet the runners at the finish line with a large quantity of beer ( & wine coolers…) for the post race celebration. Although sometimes there are beer stops along the trail, the real drinking starts right after the race during the circle ceremony. At this mock-religious event songs are sung, ‘down-downs’(emptying one’s beer immediately while standing in the center of the circle) are handed out to those that did anything good, bad or indifferent, virgins that have run three to five races are given nick-names, and any other extremely silly group business is addressed in as serious a manner as possible.
I have omitted a lot of other details about the races I have run but they are hard to recall because not only is there a lot of beer consumed during the Circle but afterwards everyone heads to a nearby bar for the ‘On After’ or ‘On-On’ celebration that typically features consuming a few more beers. If that is not enough, after the ‘On-After’ everyone heads home to clean up and those still wanting more meet for the ‘On On On’ at a different bar for still more beer consumption.
As might be expected, I created a bit of a stir during my first race and ended up with the very rare honor of being awarded a nickname my first time out. I think it was my antics with the fish shapped canteen that I carried that caused them to name me Blowfish. Over the years since then, I have run with a few different Kennels in various cities and always had fun. Twice since I have lived in Dallas I have tried to find a local group, but the nearest active Kennel is over an hour away.
I thought of The Hash House Harriers when I picked up the newspaper the other day and read that in New Haven Conneticut Dr. Daniel Salchow, a 36 year old ophthamologist known for his volunteer work with needy children and his sister visiting from Germany, were arrested on felony bio-terrorism charges for leaving spotches of flour in an Ikea parking lot. Yes, they were Hares and while they were patiently waiting at the finish line, beer at hand, for the runners to arrive, the local police were evacuating the Ikea store. He bicycled to the store to tell the police it was flour but that did not go over well. Welcome to post-911 America, where we can all sleep better at night knowing we are safely protected from imbibing joggers.
http://www.gthhh.com/
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/25/nyregion/25beer.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_House_Harriers
We got to the announced starting point of the race early enough to mingle with a few of the group’s seasoned veterans, Harriers and Harriettes with sophisticated nicknames like Cunning Runt, Wanna Pecker and Panty Waste. They told me that each race is unique and went over a few of the basics with me. The previous race’s winner becomes the next race’s Hare. Their task is to announce where the next race starts and to set up the secret route. The trail can start and go anywhere; the more creative the better. Some of the best courses run through parks, streets, parking lots, back yards, streams, etc. I even heard of one that went through the lobby of an office building. The course has traditionally been marked by an occasional splotch of flour dropped on the ground although more recently paper, chalk and other pre-designated materials have been used as clues to show the runners which direction the trail might go.
After several dozen other Harriers arrived (some with horns, whistles, paddles, wacky hats…), the race started. The splats of flour on the ground marked that you were on course but did not indicate what direction the trail went next. Since no one but the Hare knew where the actual trail went, the speedier runners sprinted off into different directions until someone found the next marker. That person would then blow their whistle, honk their horn or simply yell out that they were ‘on’ and everyone else would head towards them often asking other runners ‘are you’ to make sure they are going in the right direction. This organized chaos would repeat itself as we ran through the streets of a residential neighborhood, into a few backyards, over a low fence, around a small kiddie park, near some office buildings, next to a small pond and finally finishing in a thick wooded area.
Other ‘Kennels’ (chapters) of the Hash House Harriers run their races differently. Some are ‘live’ where the Hare gets a short head start and marks the trail as he tries to elude the rest of the group. Race courses that are laid out by the Hare in advance are called ‘dead’. Either way, a good Hare will set up lots of twists, turns and several false trails. Faster runners will ‘check’ or make off false trails as they go, to help the slower walkers that follow to stay on course. There is a cachet to winning but there is definitely a ‘getting there is half the fun’ attitude. There are over a thousand Hash groups with at least one in almost every major city around the world.
The Hare’s other important duty is to meet the runners at the finish line with a large quantity of beer ( & wine coolers…) for the post race celebration. Although sometimes there are beer stops along the trail, the real drinking starts right after the race during the circle ceremony. At this mock-religious event songs are sung, ‘down-downs’(emptying one’s beer immediately while standing in the center of the circle) are handed out to those that did anything good, bad or indifferent, virgins that have run three to five races are given nick-names, and any other extremely silly group business is addressed in as serious a manner as possible.
I have omitted a lot of other details about the races I have run but they are hard to recall because not only is there a lot of beer consumed during the Circle but afterwards everyone heads to a nearby bar for the ‘On After’ or ‘On-On’ celebration that typically features consuming a few more beers. If that is not enough, after the ‘On-After’ everyone heads home to clean up and those still wanting more meet for the ‘On On On’ at a different bar for still more beer consumption.
As might be expected, I created a bit of a stir during my first race and ended up with the very rare honor of being awarded a nickname my first time out. I think it was my antics with the fish shapped canteen that I carried that caused them to name me Blowfish. Over the years since then, I have run with a few different Kennels in various cities and always had fun. Twice since I have lived in Dallas I have tried to find a local group, but the nearest active Kennel is over an hour away.
I thought of The Hash House Harriers when I picked up the newspaper the other day and read that in New Haven Conneticut Dr. Daniel Salchow, a 36 year old ophthamologist known for his volunteer work with needy children and his sister visiting from Germany, were arrested on felony bio-terrorism charges for leaving spotches of flour in an Ikea parking lot. Yes, they were Hares and while they were patiently waiting at the finish line, beer at hand, for the runners to arrive, the local police were evacuating the Ikea store. He bicycled to the store to tell the police it was flour but that did not go over well. Welcome to post-911 America, where we can all sleep better at night knowing we are safely protected from imbibing joggers.
http://www.gthhh.com/
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/25/nyregion/25beer.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_House_Harriers
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