My Night with the Ben Hill Hash House Harriers



          This past Monday night, FH and I headed out to meet up with a group of folks who call themselves the Ben Hill Hash House Harriers. They are a running group, but not the type you'd ever find training around an oval track, running repeats of any sort, comparing race times, talking running shoes, bragging about training techniques, discussing the Daniel's Formula, or ever even using the dirty "r" word: race. "Hashing" as it is called is not about racing, it is about chasing. Hashing, or at least the game it was modeled after, is a very, very old pastime; older in fact, than the very country we live in. Hashing was derived from the game, "Fox and Hounds" or "Hares and Hounds", that was played in England, Ireland, and Scotland as early as the early 1700's. Those games became somewhat official in the early 1800's and hashing was officially founded by an Englishman in 1937 who was stationed in Malaysia.

The Ben Hill Hash House Harriers gather, sip, and gab before the hash. 

      If you have never had the privilege of playing chase, I'll say sorry first and then I'll give you a quick primer. One person takes off and everyone attempts to catch that person. In the case of "fox and hounds" or "hares and hounds", one person plays the role of the fox or the hare and takes off marking their trail in some noticeable fashion, with paper, flour, leaves, paint, etc. and in due time, the "hounds", the other people, give chase and attempt to find the trail and then in the end attempt to catch the fox or hare. Hashing follows the same basic format. And in most places the trail is marked by flour. And each mark is left behind with a certain purpose to tell the pursuers something specific about the direction in which they are going or should be going. Here is an example of a few known marks:

     In the case of marking the trail, the fox or hare will attempt to lead the pursuers in a totally wrong direction and hoping they lose their way or "lose the scent". And if you've ever watched an animal, except a raccoon, or actually hunted an animal, they do not choose a linear path or one that is easy to follow, it is a trail that goes in, around, over, through, and under anything and everything. It is a path or trail of pure fleeing. And that is the type of path or trail that is marked by the proverbial fox or hare.

The first mark at the beginning of the hashing trail.

    Hashing isn't exactly the same as the old game of fox and hare, but it is very close. Hashing is a mixture of running and socializing; much more socializing than running and it is never a race. And training for the hash is greatly looked down upon. Hashers meet weekly or biweekly and run a course that may vary in length, but usually ranges from about three miles to some over five or six. There are thousands of hashing groups around the country and around the world. Each hashing group that affiliates themselves with the "hash house" title attempts to affiliate themselves with the original hashers who were far away from home and tried to find community and oneness in around a national pastime. The "house" part refers to an old English tavern frequented by expatriates, where they would meet up in Malaysia and the "hash" part refers to the food served at the tavern. I think this part is really neat, but I'm a sucker for traditions like that. The modern hashers that continue to meet, run, and socialize today are really only doing what the original hashers did almost a hundred years ago.

A flour mark showing us we're on the right trail.

     But...I will be quick to add that hashing is not for the faint of heart, or the closest Baptist in the room, or your favorite Prohibitionist. It is a social running club like no other. One of the tag lines I have seen used to describe hashing is that they are a drinking club with a running problem. The closest thing I can compare it to is maybe if a whole bar went running one night and brought the alcohol, the music, and the craziness with them. And if the drinking doesn't offend you, then the route of the hash will make you double-think about why you are there. The hasher that is chosen to mark the trail usually chooses the hardest, muddiest, wettest, thickest, oddest trail they are able to mark. They will bypass many easy and accessible ways in order to make those who are chasing them crawl under trees, through briars, through creeks, over fallen trees, across rivers, over rock ledges, etc. The only let up from the chase is that for all the hard chasing, there will be a beer stop about every mile or so. And at the end of the trail, there will always be a party of sorts to enjoy.

FH riding shotgun on the craziest jog we have ever gone on. 

   And all this brings me to last Monday night, but as should be expected, it goes back further than that for me. When we moved to Fitzgerald in June, I was driving my car through town one night as it was getting dark and came up an odd group of adults running through people's yards and one guy was carrying a flag and I rolled my windows down and tried to follow them for a bit and see what they were up to and they were yelling and whistling to one another and seemingly trying to follow something I just couldn't see. I should have looked down instead of around. I probably would have seen a small patch of flour nearby. I went back home after the group disappeared into a dense section of woods and asked my inlaws about the group and they tried to tell me a little about the group, but made it sound like Mowgli from the Jungle Book had started a little running club and I guess that really isn't that far-fetched. I kept asking around and eventually stumbled upon the name of the club and after some internet searching came upon the Ben Hill Hash House Harriers; who were founded in 1985 and have been dedicated to hashing since then. And later that summer, while on a bike ride with FH and some students, came upon the group assembled in full fashion getting ready to head out and chase the trail.

This is the point in the hash when FH and I moved into second place and were heavily into the chase!

    I really wanted to join them someday, but between school, XC, and just life in general, I never found the time and then this past Monday, that changed. FH and I had a free night and Mel had a few things that she had to have finished before the next day, so we loaded up the jogging stroller and headed to the meeting place. Every two weeks, the Ben Hill Hash House Harriers meet downtown Fitzgerald behind the Modern Appliance building at 6:30 pm and then head out together to the head of where the trail has been marked. FH and I got there on time, but had to wait around till around 6:50 before a soul showed up. A few cars showed up and then had us get back in our car and follow them to a place called, "The Brewery". It was actually more a shed where some beer was brewed a long time ago by a bored bachelor, but rumor has it that they are going to get brewing there again soon. The crew had already assembled behind The Brewery and were talking of past events and money was collected for the beer that was to be shared. And with the talking and catching up also came the first of many beers. I found this to be very funny and very odd. I have been running for almost twenty years and I can honestly say that save milk, beer, may be the beverage I hope to never have to drink and then be made to run. But beer is almost a central character to a proper hash experience.

Short cuts and more advantageous paths are not frond upon during a hash. If you are behind and see where the leaders are running, nothing says you can't cut a lot of corners and head them off. Trying to be first doesn't benefit one during a hash much. We learned this the hard way! FH and I were first several times only to be dropped by those behind us. 

     After the leader, known and referred to as, The Grand Marshall or GM, decided all had arrived that were coming and the last of the initial beers have been polished off, the GM sounded off a whistle that he carried around his neck and the group assembled in the front of The Brewery and the first point on the trail was arrived at and they all yelled, "On Hunt" and the chase was on. FH dove into his stroller and we just tried to keep up. The trail went up one street, crossed a busy highway, went down a muddy alley, through a field and into a parking lot, through a church lawn, through a high school practice field, over a creek, through a little league field, behind the town's radio station, down the side of another busy highway, through another church yard, through another field, but this one was very muddy, over and through another creek, and through some of the thickest brush I have ever run through, over three fallen trees, down a muddy dirt road, and right to a barn known by the group as, "Mr. Bill's Golf Cart Barn", and then we stopped, whistles were blown, and odd things were yelled by the GM to those hashers who had taken the false trail. I was sweaty, dirty, wet, and out of breath. Pushing a stroller through all of that was crazy! And FH looked at me like what had we really gotten into, but the barn we stopped at was more of a golf cart graveyard than anything else, so he got out of the stroller and took a look around. While we sipped some water and looked around, the rest the hashers made it to the BN, or the beer near spot, and more beers were had and more stories were told. One of the men there was telling some great stories about him getting older and then they all kept laughing about one guy who wasn't allowed to come for awhile because his wife had laid down the law because he had really overdone it at a previous hash. FH and I listened in as we climbed on an old trailer and drank our water.

Follow the leader; especially if he is called the Grand Master and also serves as a standard bearer for local Civil War reenactments. 

Calling in all who had gone the wrong way on a false trail. 

    After about 10-15 minutes, the whistle was blown by the GM and again the chant of, "on hunt" was shouted" and we were off. The trail followed a muddy dirt road, and then through several people's yards, and down the side of another busy road, through the parking garage of a nursing home, and after about a little over a mile, another BN marking was spotted and the group stopped for yet another round of beers and conversation. FH and I joined the conversation, but we also walked around the place we had stopped checking out a few things and then we finished our water while we climbed on yet another golf cart. We had run almost 2.5 miles at this time of the chase. And at this point you maybe thinking that only old "frat" guys who haven't grown up yet partake in this type of stuff, but you'd be very wrong. Within the BHHHH group and most all hashing groups a wide age range can be seen as well as both sexes. And this also goes for the socioeconomic status of the hashers as well. This night there were two women, pregnant no less, and guys ranging from their 20's to their 70's.

The beer, laughter, and stories were flowing at the first BN spot. 

    After about the same duration of time, the same whistle was blown, but this time, the chant of, "On In" was shouted and signaled. "On In", means that the hashers are to make their way back to the beginning of the trail by whichever path they'd like to follow. FH and I cut through several yards of people we know and made it back to The Brewery first. I'm sure that attitude would be looked upon. I loaded the stroller up and we went inside The Brewery for a time, but all that was left of the hash was the party aspect and FH and I headed home to eat dinner with Mel. I am pretty sure that was for the best.

Our leader leading us well. It is about the chase, not the race. 

    I am not really sure how I feel about my whole experience. I'll definitely go again. I'm not sure I'll bring FH, but I probably will. I will say it was fun. And it was very different. And it was also oddly refreshing to join up with a group of people to run, but have the focus be on other things. It was as if the almost four miles we ran was a distant side product of the night. I don't love the drinking aspect, but don't find any harm in it for now. I am not a beer or drinking kind of guy, but I'm also not offended by those who are. Some people are beer people and I happen to be an ice cream guy.

The infamous, BN, mark signaling that the beer is near. 

    I don't know if I'll ever really get into the whole hashing scene, but I definitely liked the whole chasing and following the trail aspect. I also loved how the trail wasn't linear or fixed. I liked the running through water, over trees, through backyards, and through the woods. It reminded me of how kids run through the woods. It also reminded me of the old type XC races that used to be put on. XC is quickly becoming a sport where the courses are becoming more and more manicured and less challenging so the times can be faster. I'm not a fan of that. I'd much rather watch a kid run a 25 minute three mile race knowing he or she had to jump trees, cross through water, and run a quarter mile in knee deep mud and was still able to keep up an eight minute mile rather than watch a kid trot a 14:50 5K on a gravel path with no real hills or obstacles. The latter is a little boring. It's why they have a whole sport called track. And it's also why no except those who have to be there comes to a track meet.

Time to take it to the house!

     I plan on being back behind the Modern Appliance building at 6:30 or so in two weeks and I'm looking forward to it. Don't worry, I won't write another post about it. That is unless something amazing happens. Well, I believe it is time to chant, "On In", and take this post back to the house.

Happy running, hashing, and reading,

DAVID