Over bridges and through the woods, local hashers hit the trail in search of cold beverages

by Stephanie Lynn, Ace Cub Reporter, as reported in the May 8, 2003 edition of the Columbus aLIVE Newspaper

The Hash House Harriers is a group of social drinkers who meet once a month to toss back some cold brews, run a few miles and belt out songs that would make your parents blush. Known as "a drinking club with a running problem," they have chapters all over the world, including Japan, Australia, Costa Rica and even here in Columbus.

One local chapter, the Columbus Cowtown with a Hard-on Hash House Harriers and Harriettes, OH (or C2H5OH-which just so happens to be the formula for alcohol), celebrated its fifth anniversary last month (or "analversary," as they fondly call it).

In 1997, Andy Macaulay and Mark Buckley, who go by the hashing handles of Buttocks and Black Watch, were tossing back a couple of Beck's Darks and wondering why Columbus was without a hash of its own. They decided to do something to rectify that, but enjoying ale seemed to get in the way of planning, and the first hash wasn't held until April 4, 1998.

Members of the local club range in age from barely legal to barely alive. The hash's pack of runners/drinkers can include lawyers, doctors, teachers, marines, firefighters and even police officers. Many hashers are upstanding working stiffs, pencil-pushing bureaucrats and mortgage-bound suburbanites who relish the opportunity to shed their images, let loose and generally behave in a manner without dignity, taste or morals-one night a month, at least.

Once the debauchery begins, members are referred to only by their hash names, bestowed upon them by the pack. A name is given to a hasher after he or she has attended a few hashes, usually corresponding to something stupid said or done on the trail. Members of the Columbus Hash include Holy Fuck, Dribbler, Brown Eyed Beaver and Ouija Broad.

Ask anyone in the pack to explain the hash or its appeal, and they'll admit it's incomprehensible-at least until you experience it for yourself. Most people seem to respond with dismay when they first hear of the hash, but are hooked when they first run one.

The hash typically begins at a bar or at a hasher's home. Two "hares" will have already scouted out a trail; they get a head start, marking the path with flour as they run. The pack of hashers then follows. The object, however, isn't to catch the hares, but to get to the beer the trail inevitably leads to.

When the pack reaches the end, the hashers gather to drink and observe what some might see as semi-religious ceremonies, consisting, of course, of drinking more beer. But this time it's imbibed ritualistically, led by the hash's grandmaster.

Traditions and rowdiness vary from hash to hash, but the general idea is the awarding of "Down-Downs" for crimes real, imagined or just plain made-up. "Down-Downs" require the guzzling of a beer and then dumping what you can't drink over your head. Virgins of the hash are always given a "Down-Down," as are visitors, of which there usually are plenty.

While the Columbus hash is only five years old, hashing itself goes back much further. Blame the British.

A group of British soldiers and civil servants is given credit for modifying the age-old game of hounds and hares in 1938 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. No one knows why exactly. Perhaps just to relieve boredom, or as an elaborate excuse to knock back a few.

The name came about when local authorities required legal registration of the club. Though "Kuala Lumpur Harriers" seemingly would have been the logical choice, they chose instead to use the nickname for the Selangor Club where most of the local hashers lived and took their meals. The dining room, because of its bland food, was commonly referred to as the "Hash House."

The Hash House Harriers have spread all over the globe. The best estimates are that there are 1,500 active houses worldwide, including one in almost every country and most major cities; the United States has the most known Hash Houses, with almost 400. A hasher can easily go from one part of the world to another to attend a hash. A visitor only has to say "On, on!" to be welcomed by the pack with a sense of fraternity.

The Columbus hash is now regularly held on the second or third Friday of every month, each one with a different trail and perhaps a different theme (formal night looks like prom all over again). The posted starting time is always 7 p.m., but once the brew starts flowing it's a miracle if the pack starts out the door by 7:30.

Just one thing about the hash is set in stone. As Chris Langford, aka Weething, put it, "The only thing certain is that you are going to drink."

The hash knows no confines or constraints (except that there must be beer). A typical hash lasts an hour or two, and may cover three to five miles, meandering across field and stream, along railroad tracks and through apartment buildings, houses, even malls. The Columbus hashers once even ran through police headquarters.

"You see sides of Columbus you normally don't see," reports Barry Briggs, aka Nipple Rash, grandmaster of Dayton's hash.

Runners at the last hash were shown sides of Clintonville many hadn't seen before, running under a bridge and through the woods of the neighborhood's ravines. Not everyone in the hash is a runner, however. While some speed through the trail (the "front-running bastards"), others walk at the back of the pack. There are even auto-hashers-people who drive to the beer.

It doesn't really matter how you travel the trail or how fast you do it. It's not a competition, but a unique way to gather-and drink. The trail is the challenge, camaraderie and beer are the rewards. On, on!