Hashing

Hashing . . . it's a mixture of athleticism and sociability, hedonism and hard work, a refreshing escape from the nine-to-five dweebs you're stuck with five days a week. Hashing is an exhilaratingly fun combination of running, orienteering, and partying, where bands of harriers and harriettes chase hares on three to five mile-long trails through town, country, and desert, all in search of exercise, camaraderie, and good times.

Hashing began in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, in 1938, when a group of British colonial officials and expatriates founded a running club called the Hash House Harriers. They named the group after their meeting place, the Selangor Club, nicknamed the "Hash House." Hash House Harrier runs were patterned after the traditional British paper chase. A "hare" was given a head start to blaze a trail, marking his devious way with shreds of paper, all the while pursued by a shouting pack of "harriers." Only the hare knew where he was going . . . the harriers followed his clues to stay on trail. Apart from the excitement of chasing the hare and solving the clues, reaching the end was its own reward . . . for there, thirsty harriers would find a tub of iced-down beer.

Hashing hasn't strayed far from its Kuala Lumpur roots. A typical hash today is a loosely-organized group of 20-40 men and women who meet weekly or biweekly (or, more recently, up to 7 days a week for various functions) to chase the hare. We follow chalk, flour, or paper, and the trails are never boring . . . we run streets and back alleyways, but we also ford streams, climb fences, explore storm drains, and scale cliffs. And although some of today's health-conscious hashers may shun cold beer in favor of water or diet sodas, trail's end is still a celebration and a party.

I joined the Minneapolis Hash House Harriers in August of 2007. Their humor tickled me. I enjoyed the exercise and am learning about new beer. LOL. I received the hash name "Dick on a Stick" after I was one of the FRBs at the State Fair and due to the fact that the following trail found me with a cattail sticking out of my hair, ala unicorn. I set my first trail (with an absolutely HONEY, Knee Pad Barbie) in September here at the Ranch and surrounding Corcoran. I received my tags, and with it, a ceremonial dousing with beer and flour.

See the website at www.minneapolish3.com to find out more about this fun group. Mind you, it is not for the weak of mind nor prude at heart.