Talk About
Making a Mad Dash!
Twisting Trail
Leads Madcaps to Hash House
The Gazette Telegraph
Tuesday, June 1, 1993
By Joe Hrbek
Terry Weathers polished off his
first margarita of the run and posed the question
many of his colleagues probably were wondering:
“Do I have to run another
lap to get another drink?”
Weathers had just circled part
of Prospect Lake – barely distance enough to
break a sweat – and already he was wondering
where he would find the next refreshment.
Weathers asked the question in
jest, but he clearly was participating in the run for
reasons other than getting into shape.
He was there to party, to meet
new people and to discover parts of Colorado Springs
on foot that he'd never seen before.
He was there as a Hash House
Harrier, immersed in a crowd of 30 or so men, women
and children who are part of a growing international
fraternity of recreational atheletes.
In the Pikes Peak region, the
Harriers gather for runs twice a month.
There are six chapters in
Colorado; worldwide, there are more than 700.
Hashing began in 1938 in
Malaysia and was brought to the United States largely
by returning military men and women.
It now exists in more than 100
countries around the world, and some hashers travel
from town to town and country to country like rock
fans following the Grateful Dead.
Auckland, New Zealand, will
host next year's international hash in February.
Sport Developed from
old English game
Hashing is based on the old
English game of hares and hounds. Before the run, two
hares set up a course using flour markings as guiding
points.
The hounds follow the courses
through malls, down ski runs, and over trails,
overcoming false markings set up as decoys.
And along the way, there is at
least one resting point to take in the sights, grab a
beer, show off a costume, meet a new member or catch
a breath.
The finish line, usually a park
or participant's back yard where beverages and
barbecue await, is the ultimate goal. The course and
the final destination can be as unique and creative
as the hares who create them.
“We've ended up in a lot
of bars and livened them up,” says Bob Hough
retired truck driver and a senior member of the group
who has participated in about 100 hashes.
“I'd probably be watching
TV if I wasn't here today.” Said Kelly Willard,
29, at a recent hash. “We get to see more of the
city, and a lot more of the parks. There's lots of
Manitou Springs you can't see from a car.”
Bob Campbell, another senior
member of the Pikes Peak chapter, has his own reasons
for hashing.
“It keeps the joints
lubricated.” He said.
The hashes attract all ages,
genders, and athletic abilities.
Randy Mimm, a core member, was
a competitive race walker.
Dave Garrison is an
ultramarathon runner who, believe it or not, see
similarities between a 100 mile race and a leisurely
hash.
“They're a lot the
same,” Garrison said after legging a 32-mile
training run on and around Pikes Peak before joining
a hash earlier this month. “How can you take an
ultramarathon serious, and how can you take a hash
serious?”
The course can pose challenges
beyond jogging to the next beer cooler.
Jill Sarff, a frequent runner
who works in space operations at Cheyenne Mountain,
recalled a hash earlier this month that required a
good deal of endurance and even some two-hand,
two-feet hill-climbing ability.
After the run, she said,
“my ankle was killing me.:
Lest they start to get too
serious, however, organizers will throw in an easier
hash like this weekend's, which produced more resting
points and margaritas than it did mileage.
Strange faces appear in
strange places
Despite all the good
intentions, the sheer weirdness of the events can
produce uncomfortable situations.
In Dallas this year, hashers
were seen spreading white power in minority sections
of the city.
Police investigated the power
spreading as a hate crime because the course lead
through a predominantly black apartment complex.
Residents of the complex
charged that the hashers were “skinheads”,
and Dallas police tested the powder to make sure it
wasn't an illegal drug.
The Pikes Peak chapter has
escaped similarly severe controversies, but with its
course markings, strange costumes and parade-like
processions, the group has raised some eyebrows.
“People think that we're
defacing their property,” Mimm said, “but
the next rain, it's gone.”
For more indormation about the
harriers call 576-0331.
Cut Line: SPORTS: INSIDE:
HASHING THINGS OVER: Photo: Shoes in one hand, thirst
quencher in another, Pat Weathers leaves the party as
fellow Hash House Harriers gather at the end of a
recent run. The Harriers gather for runs twice a
month. Complete report/C6
Photo: From left, Liz Shannon,
Anna Hanson, Jill Sarff and Mike Teller of the Hash
House Harriers make their way around Prospect Lake.
Runners follow a course laid out by two fellow club
members and the trail always includes at least one
stop for rest, relaxation and a choice of liquid
refreshment.
Photo: Bob Campbell, also known
as “Barnacle Bob,” uses a bugle to help the
Hash House Harriers find the correct route during a
recent run through the city. The group has six
chapters in Colorado.