03/10/05

Attention, writers & reporters: If you're looking for information on the Hash House Harriers and hashing, this section of the Half-Mind Catlog contains a lot of background and history. Harrier Net is also an excellent source of information on hashing.

Hashing . . . it's a mixture of athleticism and sociability, hedonism and hard work; a refreshing break from the nine-to-five routine. Hashing is an exhilaratingly fun combination of running, orienteering, and partying, where bands of harriers and harriettes chase hares on eight-to-ten kilometer-long trails through town, country, jungle, and desert, all in search of exercise, camaraderie, and good times.

Hashing, as we know it today, began in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, in 1938, when a group of restive British company men started a hare & hounds running group. They named the group after their meeting place, the Selangor Club, aka the "Hash House." Hash House Harrier runs were patterned after the traditional British public school paper chase. A "hare" would be given a short head start to blaze a trail, marking his devious way with shreds of paper, soon to be pursued by a shouting pack of "harriers." Only the hare knew where he was going . . . the harriers followed his marks to stay on trail. Apart from the excitement of chasing down the wily hare, solving the hare's marks and reaching the end was its own reward, for there, thirsty harriers would find a tub of iced-down beer.

Hashing died during World War II (Japanese occupying forces being notoriously opposed to civilian fun), but came back to life in the post-war years, spreading slowly through Singapore, Indonesia, Australia, and New Zealand, then exploding in popularity in the late 70s and early 80s. Today there are thousands of Hash House Harrier clubs in all parts of the world, complete with newsletters, directories, and regional and world hashing conventions.

Despite its growth, hashing hasn't strayed far from its British and Malaysian roots. A typical hash "kennel" is a loosely-organized group of 20-40 men and women who meet weekly or biweekly to chase the hare. We follow chalk, flour, or paper, and the trails are never boring. When forced to, we'll run the occasional street or alley, but in general we prefer shiggy . . . fields, forests, jungles, swamps, streams, fences, storm drains, and cliffs. And although some of today's health-conscious hashers may shun a cold beer in favor of water or a diet soda, trail's end is still a party. Perhaps that's why they call us the "drinking club with a running problem!"

So . . . if you'd like to spice up your running program with fun, good company, new surroundings, and physical challenge, try hashing. Just remember one thing . . . never wear new shoes to the hash!

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What is it about hashing that casts its spell over us and feeds our addiction? Hashing is, after all, a weird aberration in the world of recreational running. I raise the question, rhetorically, because curious people ask about it. They don't understand what it is that makes mature adults participate in an activity where the downsides and hazards seem so obvious. They wonder why we seem to abuse our bodies and risk our necks by running through inhospitable terrain. Thickets clogged with thorns poised to shred the skin of our legs. Venues burgeoning with poison ivy, ticks, bees, and whatever creepy-crawly thing that may be endemic to a particular corner of the world. Why do we choose to run up and down steep and often slippery trails filled with rocks and roots? What sadistic impulse drives the hares to lay trails that make us climb over and through Cyclone fences and barbed wire, slosh through streams and swampland rich in sneaker-sucking mud? What defects in our collective character allow us to trespass on farmland, private estates, golf courses, or cause security guards to get their undies in a bunch when we saunter through shopping malls? Why do we court disaster by feeling our way through dark, water-filled culverts and tootling along stretches of railroad tracks? People wonder how men and women . . . especially men . . . can reconcile themselves to a degree of shamelessness that allows them to participate in a huge slice of lunacy called a "Red Dress Run." Who were the warped minds that conjured up an event in which free spirits reign supreme and the masses, garishly decked out in red dresses, careen around crowded business districts in cities throughout the world yelling inanities like "On, On!" or just screeching like banshees. And if we're really lucky, all of this neat stuff might go on during a thunderstorm, a blizzard, or in the dark of night.

Our favored response is to tell these perplexed mortals, "We're a drinking club with a running problem!" It really is a pretty cute rejoinder that often elicits a broad smile and maybe a shout of approval . . . but it's also misleading and it doesn't always turn out to be the perfect little snappy remark we want it to be. To some onlookers it is a validation of their moral indignation. There's something scandalous about a bizarre behavior being displayed by a bunch of freaky people. People so deficient in basic "family values" that they let themselves get caught up in a wave of mob psychology which makes it okay to be seen as offensive or infantile. The misleading part is the inherent suggestion that hashers are a bunch of boozers. Not so. Emphatically, not so! One of the wonderful things about hashers is their unstated and unspoken resolve to never put pressure on anyone to use alcoholic beverages. It is clearly understood that some people prefer not to use alcohol. They don't like it, or health considerations rule it out. These hashers are accorded total respect. We don't even joke about it. Sometimes our response to anal-retentive mentalities derives from the oft-stated conviction that says, "If you're talking to a hasher, you don't need to explain your addiction. If you're talking to a non-hasher, you can't explain it." I don't think so. We find easy comfort in this answer, but it's a little too trite. Too smug. It's a cop-out. I think we can give people answers that will make sense to them. Some of them may even decide to give hashing a try.

Here then is one hasher's attempt to gather some bits and pieces of what may eventually evolve into a definitive apologetic. There is no rationale for the order of the topics as presented. No progression from trivial to powerful---just a bunch of reasons supporting the Hash House Harrier mystique in a way that may help outsiders get a better notion of what it's all about. It's not enough to say that it's all about fun and fitness. A lot of running clubs feature that slogan and, in a sense, it says it all and it makes an important statement to the effect that our passion is not necessarily related to competition, winning, or ego inflation. Paradoxically, however, it says nothing at all until we get into some details to explain what we mean by "fun" and how do we experience a joie de vivre you just can't get with treadmills and barbells. Oh, yes, the fitness gym has its place, but while the "no pain, no gain" mentality arguably sucks, it does work and it requires no explanation. Hashing, by contrast, is an alternative to the world of grunting, stinking, sweating bodies holed up in a jungle of steel contraptions. Hashing leads to a different level of fitness that contributes to the soundness of body in a less aggressive way. We can replace the grimace with a smile as the hashers' way to fitness takes us into an environment filled with the sounds, sights, and smells of nature.

Men and women of all ages regularly savor the joy of a group activity that takes us bounding over trails through forests, along (and often into) ponds and rivers. over high meadows, and even over patches of asphalt. The variety of locales is wonderful, too. Hardly ever do we run old trails in familiar places. The noncompetitive aspect of hashing is a joyful release from the oval track, stop watches, and finishing chutes of the good old 10 K roadrace. Of course we find fun and camaraderie at the roadraces, too. Lots of hashers are avid roadracers and there is no reason for hashing and roadracing to be an either/or choice. The roadrace has its rewards: another T-shirt (like you only have 250 and you need more), medals, trophies, adulation (if you're an "elite" runner), or just a huge sense of accomplishment if you've covered the whole 26 miles of a marathon.

Hash rewards, however, include a higher level of camaraderie that can only exist among close friends. Mutually shared expressions of warmth and affection doled out with hugs and smiles that extend naturally beyond the hash event. We enjoy getting together for non-running social events, too. Periodically, hashers will gather for a trip to the seashore or the mountains, a dinner together at an exotic restaurant, an entertainment event like a ballgame or a concert, or maybe just meeting together for a happy hour at a local brewpub and celebrate someone's birthday. Our occasional T-shirt is usually an item we buy to celebrate a special hash event, like a red dress tun. The only tangible award we can offer is a mug of beer to the "winners" of a hash. Toward that end, we bring a characteristically perverse humor by presenting our "awards" to the hares who volunteered to host the hash and lay the trail, short-cutters, front-runners, visitors, and new hashers (referred to as "Cherries", "Virgins" or "New Boots"). The "award ceremony" is like nothing else. The eating and drinking climax to our physical exertions is called an "apres" in which our designated "religious advisor," striving for a high level of refreshing irreverence, leads us in the singing of appropriately raunchy tunes.

The variety of personalities that constitute a regional hash are quite amazing. And it's not only the individual hashers---the hash, as an entity, is likely to have a personality. Some hash units are more party oriented rather than being gung-ho for running. In a light-hearted way, they display their mock disdain for hard running by using the word "run" as though it were an obscenity. They're also quick to jokingly ridicule any hashers daring to wear T-shirts from roadraces. Such blasphemy will surely earn them a down-down at the apres. Other hash units are composed of many serious runners who thirst after physically daunting trails. They may even manage to create some kind of competitive twist to the event. Apparently, the primal forces of our human nature will cause the competitive fire to burn in contradiction of the hash mentality. Some hashers love to sing. The raunchier the lyrics, the better. And many hash units embrace the whole spectrum of motivations.

But back to the individuals because here is where we have something special in the social interaction of all kinds of men and women. What is wonderful about it, and what is something of a unique hash phenomenon, is the total, unquestioning acceptance that hashers have for each other. People do not come to a hash with agendas that include a need to impress others with how important, or rich, or how smart they are. Nobody cares if you're a plumber, stockbroker, big shot executive, tax collector (well, that might create some negative disposition), lawyer (with a high tolerance for nasty jokes), salesperson, chemistry prof (they're the worst kind), or whatever. Criteria for acceptance into hash events are simply a few bucks to pay for food and drink, a love of adventure running on trails, and a zest for partying that is likely to be on the "R-rated" side.

With regard to attitudes and philosophies, the hash is typically a land of diversity: Conservatives and liberals, religious types, irreverent characters, party animals as well as quiet loners, and some people who drift in who are right off the wall. But these unique personalities are fully accepted and we don't call them "weird." We prefer to say that they are just "different," and the encompassing arms of the hash will be long enough and strong enough to encompass "different" people within our circle. One of the really delightful things about hashing is the chance it affords us to react to the smothering effect of political and social correctness. To be a rebel. To leave, temporarily, our sheltered structures and directed work-a-day worlds that are so filled with expectations and responsibilities. There are no Rules in the hash universe. The hash is the time and place for behavior based on a mock disrespect for genteel conventions and family values. But it's all done in a spirit of fun, and that's why it works and exists as a major part of the hash mystique. There's a lot of tongue-in-cheek insulting that goes on. A kind of crude banter that elicits smiles rather than hurt feelings. It is clearly understood that teasing is just a light-hearted bit of fluff among people who have profound respect and genuine affection for each other. It's the hash style to kid people about mismanaging events, laying ugly trails, or botching up whatever it is that somebody with a brain would do correctly. Another characteristic of many hash groups throughout the world is the special nickname that assembled hashers hang on a newly inducted member. The age, gender, or lifestyle of the newcomer is irrelevant. The scatological approach is basic to any flimsy pretext for selecting a raunchy name for the victim. Resisting an inclination to give some examples, it will be simply noted here that this singular event allows the hash to cross the line separating decency from the realm of poor taste and cruelty toward wildlife (i.e., hashers).

Of course, the world of the hash has its share of human imperfection. Most of us will occasionally have that kind of day where we feel a little grouchy and behave in a way that rubs somebody's fur the wrong way. Where onr draws the line between good-natured taunting and crude insult varies with people. Some folks can handle an unrestricted litany of jokes and songs and always find the humor. But when you get into jokes involving sexual orientation, toilet functions, race, ethnicity, blondes, and lawyers, some people will feel deeply offended. What distinguishes humor from poor taste and gross insensitivity will always be perceived differently by different people. Personality conflicts are another inevitability, but that's something we'll always have to live with. What is great about the hash is the degree of harmony that seems to have become one of the major characteristics of our remarkably inclusive society.

It is largely because of this spirit, this attitude, that the hash movement has evolved into an unstructured but nevertheless international affiliation. For example, it is absolutely fantastic how a hasher from one part of the world can get on the Internet and hit on the web pages of hashes thousands of miles away, then, choosing among the e-mail addresses displayed, contact an officer of any foreign hash, introduce himself and announce his plans to be there on such and such a date, and ask if there's a local hasher who has enough room for him to crash for a day or two so that he can hash with them. In the hash, the answer is never No, it's always positive. There is a real sense of fraternity among hashers throughout the world that opens doors and multiplies friendships.

On-On!
Stan Cherim
Hockessin HHH, Deleware USA

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From the 1938 charter of the Kuala Lumpur Hash House Harriers

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The Hash House

The "Hash House" was the mildly derogatory nickname given (for its unimaginative, monotonous food) to the Royal Selangor Club Chambers in Kuala Lumpur by the British civil servants and businessmen who lived and dined there between the two World Wars, when it had become something of a social center of the times. Situated close to and behind the present Selangor Club, its function changed after independence and it became an office for the Water Board. Sadly, the "Hash House" was demolished around 1964 to make way for a new highway, Jalan Kuching, although the buildings housing the original stables and servants quarters are still in existence.

The Ancient Harriers

The idea of harriers chasing paper was not new to Malaya in 1938, as there had been such clubs before in Kuala Lumpur and Johore Bahru, and there were clubs in existence in Malacca and Ipoh (the Kinta Harriers) at the time. Note: the early harrier groups in Malaya were based on English public school "paper chase" or "hare & hound" runs, which date back as far as the 18th Century (Flying Booger). "Horse" Thomson (one of the Kuala Lumpur Hash House Harriers' founding fathers) recalled being invited on a run shortly after his arrival in Johore Bahru in 1932, which chased a paper trail and followed basic Hash rules every week, but was so magically organized that it had no name. The club flourished in the early 1930s but is believed to have died out around 1935. The other branch of our ancestry comes from Malacca, where A. S. ("G") Gispert was posted in 1937 and joined a club called the Springgit Harriers, who also operated weekly under Hash rules and are believed to have been formed in 1935. Some months later, "Torch" Bennett visited him and came as a guest on a few runs.

The Hash House Harriers

By 1938, "G" Gispert, "Horse" Thompson, and "Torch" Bennett had all moved to Kuala Lumpur and, joined by Cecil Lee, Eric Galvin and H. M. Doig, they founded their own club, following the rules they had learnt elsewhere. Gispert is credited with proposing the name "Hash House Harriers" when the Registrar of Societies required the gathering to be legally registered. Other early members included Frank Woodward, Philip Wickens, Lew Davidson, John Wyatt-Smith and M. C. Hay. After 117 runs, KLHHH was forced into temporary hibernation by the arrival of the Japanese. Sadly, Gispert did not live to see his extraordinary creation revive, being killed in the fighting on Singapore Island on February 11th, 1942.

Postwar Rebirth

It took nearly 12 months after the war for the survivors of the Kuala Lumpur HHH to reassemble. Bennett put in a claim for the lost hash mugs, a tin bath and two old bags from Government funds, and post-war Run No. 1 was a trot around the racecourse in August 1946.

The Hash Spreads Out

Strangely, it took another 16 years for the second HHH chapter to be founded, in Singapore in 1962, followed by Kuching in 1963, Brunei, Kota Kinabalu, and Ipoh in 1964, Penang and Malacca in 1965. Perth, Australia* was the first "overseas" Chapter, formed in 1967. Even in 1974, when KLHHH had Run No. 1500, the HHH had only 35 chapters worldwide. Now the Hash world has over 1200 active chapters, in some 160 countries, and this despite the total absence of any central organization. We are unique!

*According to the World HHH Directory, Sydney HHH was the first Australian hash, founded in 1967 (Perth HHH was founded in 1970) - Flying Booger

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Basically a hash consists of three main parts, none of which have anything to do with the marijuana or hashish:

The Run (aka Trail)

One or two hashers, called the hare(s), lay a trail. They mark their trail with chalk arrows, shredded paper, flour, or pieces of toilet paper hanging in the bush, depending on local tradition or terrain. They might pre-lay trail a day or a few hours before the hash, or they might lay the trail as "live hares," running ahead of the pack with only a short (15 minutes is typical) head start. At a given signal, the rest of the hash (the Harriers, Harriettes, hounds, or pack) set off in pursuit of the trail. The idea is to keep the pack somewhat together and this is achieved by setting false trails, cunning checks, and sneaky loops. The fitter front runners will often run twice as far as the more slothful members, yet still finish the run at the same time as the rest of the pack. The length and difficulty of the run depends on the hare and the terrain but will typically be between four and eight kilometers, or about 45 minutes to an hour of running with checks, false trails, and shortcutting.

The Circle (aka Religion)

At trail's end hashers gather to drink beer and observe religious ceremonies . . . which consist of drinking more beer, this time ritualistically. Circles may be led by the hash Grandmaster, the Religious Adviser, or by a committee of mismanagement. Traditions (and the degree of rowdiness) vary from hash to hash, but in general the Circle consists of awarding "Down-Downs" for misdemeanors real, imagined, or blatantly made up, and the recipients will most likely have been dobbed in by their fellow hashers. Visitors are always given a Visitors Down-Down as are Virgins (first-time hash runners) and anyone else who comes to the attention of the Circle. The Circle can last a couple of minutes or half the night depending on the level of religious fervor of the hash. With changing times drinking has lost some of its importance and most clubs now modify their ceremonies to cater to non-drinkers and those stupid enough to think that hashing can improve their health.

The On-On (aka On-On-On, On-Afters, or Après)

Some hashes suspend ceremonies for awhile to consume food provided by the hare(s). Other hashes, at the conclusion of the Circle, repair to a nearby restaurant or pub. This is the social part of the hash, and the party usually breaks up afterward. In some hashes, however, religion may continue during or after On-Ons, with the telling of jokes and singing of songs, and all members, visitors, and virgins should come armed with at least one joke or song lest they be called upon.

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Every hash has a certain type of wallflower: the harrier or harriette who shows up every week for the trail and the beer, but never hares. Most hash groups try hard to draw their wallflowers out, but there remain a stubbon few who can be relied upon to beg off whenever they're asked to set a trail.

I suspect that when you get right down to it, your really determined wallflower is afraid to hare. Afraid of doing something for the first time, afraid of being criticized for messing up the trail, afraid of being compared with better hares . . . and in a live hare hash, afraid of getting caught! I've hared so many times I can't begin to remember all the trails I've laid, but I'm still terrified every time I do it. I have vivid nightmares the evening before, and once I start laying trail, for the first mile I can't make up my mind whether to suck wind or hyperventilate. I strongly suspect that most hares experience some sort of pre-trail anxiety. It comes with the territory, and it's part of the thrill of haring.

Haring is a thrill, after all, and uniquely rewarding. It really is a kick to plan a trail, especially if you've discovered some unexplored, challenging terrain to spice it up. And there are so many possibilities . . . long straight A to Bs, eagle/turkey splits, uphill detours begging to be BTs, circular trails that can either be A to As, A to almost-As, even A to Bs. Trust me, few things in life come up to the level of fun you'll get from finishing your trail, then running back to a vantage point where you can watch the pack flailing through the shiggy . . . except, perhaps, for the pleasure of knowing you finished your trail without getting caught! Yes, it's rewarding. It adds a new dimension to your enjoyment of hashing, and once you've tried it, you'll want to do it again.

For the benefit of experienced hares who want to learn more about the art, for novice hares, and especially for hashers who would sign up to hare if they didn't find the whole deal so intimidating, here are some tips and techniques I've developed over the years:

Live Hare Trails: Find an experienced co-hare to help you lay your first trail, and listen to his or her advice. This really is the best way to learn . . . it'll also give you added confidence, and you can be sure your co-hare will help you plan your trail to minimize the chance of getting caught. Here are some live hare techniques tailored to your own prowess as a runner:

Dead Hare Trails: At first glance, dead haring appears easier than live haring, but that's not necessarily true. I still recommend working with an experienced co-hare at first. Quite often, novice dead hares lay overly complicated, way-too-long trails, simply because without the worry of getting caught, they can. Here are some thoughts on dead hare trails:

Other Hare Responsibilities: In most hashes, live or dead hare, the hares sweep trail when hashers are overdue, finding DOTs and bringing them on-in. On hot days, hares should provide for water or beer stops along the trail. In hashes without a biermeister, the hares are usually responsible for bringing the beer. In some hashes, the hares are expected to find a suitable on-after restaurant or pub, while in other hashes, the hares bring and cook food for on-afters. But uppermost and always, the hares are responsible for laying a challenging, entertaining trail, the heart of every hash.

As I said, I get excited about haring, and I hope what I've written will help get you excited too. You really haven't experienced the full thrill of hashing until you've hared. Wallflowers, get with it . . . find an experienced co-hare and sign up now!

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Some time ago, I visited a hash in Southern California. I knew most of the hashers there, so I was with friends. The weather was perfect. The hares and the pack were stoked. The trail was scenic and challenging, and the hares did an outstanding job of keeping the pack together - the quick and the lame finished within ten minutes of each other. The on-in venue was hasher-friendly, far from complaining citizens and overzealous cops. There was an ample supply of beer, snacks, and food. There was a DJ and a dance floor, and the place was ours until two in the morning. Sounds like all the ingredients for a great time, doesn't it? Except for one thing.

The circle. In a word, it Sucked, capital "S" intentional. Not because the GM and RAs didn't have their act together. Not because the pack wasn't interested and paying attention. It sucked because five or six self-appointed sergeants-at-arms kept shouting "SHUT THE F_CK UP" every time more than two hashers started whispering to each other on the outskirts of the circle.

Everything was great until the shouting started. The circle was going fine. Not perfect, but as good as anyone has a right to expect. Sure, there was some background noise and quiet talking, nothing gross. But I guess these guys wanted perfection.

At first it was one shout every five minutes, but it wasn't long before the pack began to resent being shouted at. Who are these thugs? They're not the boss of me! So they made more noise, and within a few minutes the goon squad was in full cry. I felt for the poor GM. He'd say, "Bring up" - "SHUT THE F_CK UP!" - "Manhandler for a" - "SHUT THE F_CK UP!" - "down-down" - "SHUT THE F_CK UP!" - "for getting" - "SHUT THE F_CK UP!" - "lost on trail." You think I'm exaggerating. I'm not - that's literally how bad it was.

The circle disintegrated. No one was paying attention. You couldn't hear yourself drink. I wondered what the hell I was doing there. I sure wasn't having any fun. And if I wasn't having fun, why was I there? What were any of us doing there, and what did all this shouting have to do with hashing?

I haven't noticed this phenomenon overseas, but it seems to be happening more and more in the States. The home of rugged individualism, freedom, and the pursuit of happiness, or so we like to think. When did American hashing, my favorite recreational and social pastime, start needing jack-booted gangs of enforcers? When did the circle get so important we decided we needed SWAT teams to control the unruly pack? When did it get so important to control the pack in the first place?

Why do you hash? You'll probably cite the exercise, the chance to experience the outdoors, the need to get away from your flourescent-lit five-by-five workaday cubicle once a week or so, the opportunity to see new things and learn more about your local geography, the beer, maybe even the occasional harriette flashing her tits. But I bet the main reason you keep coming back to the hash is the camaraderie, the chance to see and visit the good friends you've made at the Hash. And seeing and visiting good friends is not something you can do in perfect silence, it it?

Look, circle organizers, there is going to be a certain amount of background noise during any down-down ceremony, as hashers catch up on news with their friends. Most GMs and RAs understand and accept this. As a matter of fact, when the background noise reaches a certain level, GMs and RAs who are worth a shit take the hint and wind up the formalities. The pack lets you know when it's had enough.

Let's lighten up with the strong-arm tactics, okay? The circle just isn't that important. In fact, there was a time when there wasn't any circle - and still isn't in many hashes. Most of us seem to have forgotten that, or never knew it in the first place.

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Religion . . . also called "the circle" . . . is an important part of hash tradition, and often the most remembered part of the trail. With over 1,300 hashes in the world, there must be at least 1,300 ways to conduct a circle, but the basics are such that most of us would feel right at home in any hash's circle. The circle, after all, is nothing more than a ceremony to mark trail's end, to socialize a bit, and to award down-downs for achievements and sins.

A good circle doesn't just happen, though. Conducting the circle is a lot of work, and for many of us, a major source of anxiety as well. How can you remember all the awards and violations you're supposed to hand out? How do you keep the pack's attention? How do you keep people from leaving early or breaking up into private parties? How do you keep things moving and not get bogged down? How do you know when it's time to quit?

Over the years I've led many circles as grandmaster or religious adviser to various hashes. I'd have thought that after 3,000,000 beers I wouldn't have enough functioning brain cells left to remember how I got through all those circles, but as I think about religion a surprising number of tips and techniques come to mind. I'd like to share some of them with you, and by "you," I particularly mean GMs and RAs and anyone else who leads, or is likely to lead, a circle.

There are two philosophies toward conducting a circle. One is to try to make everyone happy. The other is to drive the poseurs away until only the hard core are left, who by definition are the hashers who like the way you run your circle. Most GMs and RAs walk a line between these extremes. We know we can't make everybody happy, but at the same time we don't want our hash to turn cretinous through inbreeding.

Before I say anything else, let me say this: If your hash has a good, solid membership and long-standing circle traditions, don't try to change things. You'll just screw it up. If your hash regularly has good circles, with a high level of attention and participation from the pack, don't change a thing. Obviously, you're doing something right.

But having said that: If your circle is disorganized and you constantly find yourself shouting to be heard over the sound of slamming car doors and starter motors as hashers leave early, you might want to consider some of the following suggestions:

These are all commonsense things, but they're easy to forget if you don't do a minimum of organizing and preparation beforehand. The main thing is to have a plan for down-downs and awards, and to stick with it, avoiding as many distractions as you can. Leading a good circle is a rewarding experience, and if you are the least bit shy, leading the circle will cure you of it permanently. Good luck and a good circle to you, mates!

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The trouble with writing editorials is that normally you're bitching about things you don't like. Just for the hell of it, I'd like to mention a few things I like about hashing and hashers. It'll probably put *you* to sleep, but it'll make *me* feel better!

Challenging trails. They don't have to be real short or real long, they don't have to be live or dead, and I don't much care if they're A to A or A to B, but it sure is neat when you come upon something completely unexpected. Once in Okinawa I stepped into what looked like a puddle and went in up to my neck. That was so cool all I could do was laugh.

Hashers who contribute. Mismanagement types who do all the thankless work, week after week. Hashers who organize regional, national, and international events - especially hashers who'll do it a second time! Hashers who offer crash space and rides. Hashers who take the trouble to arrange their travel itineraries so that they can come visit your hash. Hashers who bring goodies from faraway places. Hashers who write up trip reports for everyone to share. What I really like is that hashers like these are everywhere!

I love the international aspect of hashing. I've been in the military for over 20 years, most of those years overseas, but I know three times as many funny-talkin' foreigners through the hash than I ever knew through the military.

Not knowing, or caring, whether the hasher standing next to me in the circle is an attorney, a secretary, a doctor, or a liberal arts major who cleans tables at Burger King. The total break from the workaday world. Not talking about work, mortgages, traffic, politics, or religion. Talking about sex, on the other hand, is way cool. And speaking of which . . .

The way harriettes and harriers interact with each other. I've hashed with men-only and mixed hashes, and I'll take mixed hashes any day. Hashing is one of the few social activities left where men and women don't spend 90% of their time worrying about the sexual or political implications of what they just said - or did. I must say that things tend to get rowdier at mixed hashes than they do at single-sex hashes - which can, depending on the circumstances, be a good thing!

Amendment: I founded a men-only hash in 2000. My idea was to try to recapture some of the spirit of the original hashers, who were, of course, all men. I have to say that I've come to appreciate single-sex hashing, harrier or harriette, and that it has a lot to offer. If you haven't tried it, try at least not to be as closed-minded as I was when I wrote the above words! - Flying Booger

The self-confidence people get from hashing. I guess that comes from having to hold your own in the circle. Normally, 80% of the people in any group are lurkers and boffins, content to hide in the shadows. In the hash, it's less than 50%; in some hashes, less than 10%. Amazing.

Friendships. Some of my best friends are hashers . . . really!

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