Standing in the defunct Azalea Mall parking lot, a rag tag lot of runners lace up their kicks and ice down a few sixers.

Before cracking open their brewski though, the brotherly band of running enthusiasts—made up mostly of professors, professionals, and cubical workers—have a five mile trek ahead of them.

The Richmond Hash House Harriers (H3), self proclaimed “Drinkers with a Running Problem,” converge once a week to dash around town on secret courses that mix trails, roadways, and alcoholic beverages. More than the buzz however, an oddball camaraderie has developed, laced with humor, friendship, and foul-mouthed sing-alongs.  Members with club names—such as “Backdoor Bizzle,” “Late Cummer,” and “Quack Whacker”—all take part in the local H3 chapter, an international phenomenon that sees thousands of like minded groups (all 21-years of age and up) blazing the trails for a cold brew ha-ha at the finish line.

Though known for their humor and ability to create the makings for one hell of a good time, the Hash House Harriers are an organized—and at times quite professional—outcropping of city dwellers. Secretly marking their trails the night before with clumps of flour, or Kool-Aide when it snows, H3 operates under a tight club structure that strikes a balance between fraternal fun and booze inspired festivities.

A website, which reads rather obscurely to those outside of the club, provides instructions to meet at such gathering spots as the “Scavenger Hunt Trail,” which further prompts, “Come get pregnant on this trail! (It HAS Happened, before).” 

For those brave enough to join the merriment, a quirky club nickname is quickly bestowed along with a quick tutorial in H3 etiquette (no new tennis shoes or marathon t-shirts or you’ll find yourself slurping beer from your shoes by night’s end).

Partygoers who actually make it to the hash run can expect a fun filled dash (typically 45 minutes or so) through streams, drainage pipes, poison ivy fields, and over fences.  Along the way there are strategic pitfalls and comedic tricks, along with “beer checks,” to liven up the urban jaunt.

Upon completion of the group race, which is open to men and women, a lively “Down Down” celebration occurs, with a humorous set of awards handed out to boisterous club members. Woven in the fun, H3 members gather to howl such club tunes as “The Masturbation Song” and “Bestiality’s Best.”

Hashing every Wednesday during the summer, and Sunday during the winter, club members also find time to host “Full Moon H3” runs along with special events such as the recent “Irish Festival Hash” through the streets and alleyways of Church Hill.

Having launched close to 700 mad dashes throughout Richmond, H3 has proven the perfect playground for exercise, socialization, and rowdy entertainment. Best of all, at the end of the weekly race these River City booze hounds know how to create the perfect makeshift party with plenty of elixirs to sooth those aching feet.

www.richmondhash.com

That’s a good write-up, however, most Hashers don’t race and are strongly discouraged from participating in competitive running on trail ... even if it is to avoid the FRB (Front Running Bastard) award.

Wekipedia also has a good summary of what hashers are and do all though it is suitable for readers of all ages.

On-On

Barnacle Bill the Failure
http://www.PFH3.org