Courtesy of: 8″ Crack, Pull the Plug, and Dickrectionally Challenged

If you see 8” Crack walking down the street, grant her a friendly “Aloha!” and congratulate her on her new quadragenarian status. That kind of prestige takes almost forty years to attain! To celebrate, she laid a Hawaiian-themed birthday trail with a pair of silver foxes, Pull The Plug and Dickrectionally Challenged. On warm and breezy January Sunday on the south side of town, her celebrators gathered. After the more cautious hounds swaddled their gear in hastily-procured trash bags to protect them from the gathering drizzle, the hares held their chalk talk. Trail was actually laid in baby powder and fruit loops, because the hares were wicked stoned. Suitably informed, the pack took off across the parking lot, momentarily confusing a handful of hopeful Target shoppers. After skirting a skeeter breeder, a backcheck appeared immediately. After cursing the hares and stumbling about in an impatient haze, the pack finally found flour leading to a check at a playground.  

Whale’s Vagina, Booby Trap, and Blow Hole enjoyed the slide while the remaining hounds found false trail. After some exasperated checking, true trail was traced back towards Monroe Road past some soccer games and along a ditch. It was at the edge of this ditch that Whale’s Vagina knocked a small child down to steal his bike to ride the remainder of trail. Some mild shiggy wove a brief sojourn through a neighborhood then back to a gas line easement. At this point the terrain started to look familiar and this made the hashers feel…crabby? Indeed, finally the BN was found at the edge of that partiest of properties, Dick The Boy Wonder‘s Crab Hash Headquarters. That’ll be $50 for the free advertising, Dick. Here there was a wide selection of Hawaiian beer, a cool lake for post-trail refreshment, and Kailua pork sliders. Aloha, indeed! Continue reading →

The time is almost upon us, coming up Sunday, Jan. 13th, and it is event of the Houston Hash season. We man Mile 24 of the Chevron Houston Marathon (Mile 11 of the Aramco half) from 7am til 1pm.

The Hash literally has the biggest presence on the entire marathon, the best location, and the best Hoopla. Every year is a different theme. This year is “Go Texans”. We serve beer to the Runners, and actually invented this practice over twenty years ago, now widely emulated at dozens of other Marathons.

Read more about the history of the Marathon Mile.

We’re looking for volunteers of all kinds. What follows is a list of everything you need to know to volunteer for the Marathon Mile, via Will He Peter.

Everyone, of course, loves to serve beer to the runners. However, help is needed in a lot of other areas too. Here’s what is still on our list: Continue reading →

Courtesy of: Catcher In The Brown Eye and Cob Gobbler

The last trail of the year. The last chance to indulge in hedonistic habits before reverting to irreconcilable resolutions. The penultimate possibility to lay or follow a trail completely on pavement without complex checks, or even, a beer check. The hares were not going to let that chance just slip by. Cob Gobbler and Catcher In The Brown Eye cobbled together a concatenation of flour dollops that, in the end, made a fairly decent excuse to visit the famed Karbach Brewery. Veterans and virgins converged upon a wind-swept strip center on 290, and the hares were no where in sight. After all the dogs had a chance to run amok and bark aloud, chalk talk was held for the (lucky number!) 7 virgins. And just like that, the pack was off. Mommy’s Little Accident led a strong contingent of lemmings the wrong way at the first check, until true trail was found behind the storefronts.

Following flour further, the hounds made decent work of a fairly shitty trail. The path of flour was more interminable than an anecdote from Geek. At every opportunity, the hares had scoffed at laying trail into any kind of shiggy or bayou path. Some hounds were forced to make their own shiggy. Yearning for urinary relief, Can’t Hack The Sack plunged into the woods at the first opportunity to “visit her homelss boyfriend.” Sorry, Shit Dick Ass Balls. It was surprising that more of the pack did not find itself lost, considering the proximity to the Full Moon trail’s flour laid only two days prior. Another Hashmas miracle! After winding through an empty industrial complex, a BN was nearly visible in the dust beneath the 610 overpass. Running on, the On In was found on Karbach street, where the Karbach brewery is. Feel free to write your own car-back joke here: ___________________________________________________. Inside the brew house, standard hash fare was available, along with tapped-at-the-source Rodeo Clown, Yule Shoot Your Eye Out, and Weekend Warrior. 101 Donations also showed off her gigantic dog. Insider tip: yes, she has heard the horse jokes before. Continue reading →

Hares:  Ass Grabber & Will He Peter

A very rainy morning yielded a cloudy and comfortable afternoon, which found hounds and harriettes convening beside Petsmart in the Heights. The hares promised turkey, eagle, and walkers’ trails, and the rain made them all almost impossible to follow. The pack was forced to cooperate to find the eventual On In, and there was not even a beer check for encouragement en route. Nevertheless, the pack departed chalk talk looking for a rainbow’s spectrum of chalk and browned-out dough. Trail led first past the famous Houston giant presidential head sculpture company. Head, who said cranium? After chasing down a compass’s worth of false leads, true trail was finally found across the railroad tracks. The pack continued south until they arrived at the Memorial pedestrian trail. Here things got complicated, as trail paralleled flour 8 days old, left over from the pre-Hashmas trail. 

Close attention to detail traced the fresher flour east to a check beneath Memorial. From here, hounds ranged far and wide until flour was found leading further east along the bayou. At Houston avenue, hashers sped through a piss-soaked tunnel to cross into some urban shiggy. After passing the police and fire stations, trail plunged into the ghetto where the pack met many of their colorful residents. After some simple but worn checks were communally solved, cries of “On On!” were heard to the north, where trail terminated at last at the Heights hike/bike trail underneath the I-10 / I-45 interchange. This made for a wonderfully shaded (and trespassy) On In, although it was not required for the weather. It was slightly loud, however, and condoms were littered all about. They were used, the hares had already checked. This did not preclude On In arrivals from enjoying some St. Arnold’s Amber Ale, McPisser changing his shorts, and Just Chealsea and Just Mike from cleaning up after their mid-trail mud fight. After an interminable time waiting for walkers and DFLs, circle was allowed to begin.

Continue reading →

Hares: Ass Grabber & Palm A Lay

Yea, hashmas was upon us and it was time to imbibe the spirits of the season. Drunk on Christmas cheer, Ass Grabber convinced Palm A Lay that helping him lay a trail would be fun. And by all accounts, it was! They started their dead lay at the Federal Reserve Bank on Allen Parkway, who must have been very excited to see all the white powder outside their property. After ample time to vote on the best and worst trails of the quarter and year, the pack was treated to easily the most confusing chalk talk of the year. Trail was to feature dollops, falses, Be Karefuls, back checks, stars of David, arrows, bible verses, and no boob checks! Loosed to the south, the hounds and harriettes sought their elusive prey, flour. The trail looped down to Wiley Park and Fa Realz honky tonk then back towards the parkway. After krossing karefully, flour led across the bayou on the pedestrian bridge to a check where some parkour enthusiasts were cavorting in the perfectly ordinary December heat.

Dollops were found to the east and directly followed. The pack then found their way under Memorial parkway and thence ascended to grade, to use the “sidewalk” overhanging the bayou with minimal clearance from traffic and obstructed by orange cones. It made for a hairy crossing, one of the more dangerous parts of trail in recent memory. All arrived safely at the other side, however. The half minds then furiously followed flour around the HPD memorial ziggurat, which Dick Assley zenned past. Thinking themselves at a beer check, the pack instead found the On In. Whilst waiting for the DFLs to arrive, Heartache entertained the lot with tales of hashing in the most dangerous ghettos in town. There was also cake. Now, if you read these trashes frequently, you may have noticed the third person omniscient point of view. Well time out for a personal notice. I thought that cake rocked. It was literally the best I ever ate. Even though it was left over from the night before. It was sooo good, dude. If it was darker out, I may very well have put my penis in it. Enjoy eating your holiday baked goods now! Continue reading →

Congrats to Pearl, cough Slurpee and all their cohorts. Long time coming, we are all very proud of you.

Hares:  Can’t Hound, Grind Slut, and McPisser

To commemorate the passing of beloved Balut, his three best pals planned to lay a trail to honor him. Because they cared for him so much, they made damn sure to get his cremains to mix in with the trail’s flour. They definitely didn’t forget. It might have been to their benefit to do so, as marks were remarkably small and long-spaced on the trail. Hounds gathered behind Darque Tan (we put you at the head of the “Q”!) on Wilcrest, driving or walking there at their leisure. Brrrggghhh even arrived early to “get some training in.” Chalk talk featured boob checks, turkey-eagle splits, backchecks, beer checks, and free hundred dollar bill checks. None of them were on trail.

Loosed from the start, the pack traced flour across the southern boundary of Lakeside golf course to Kirkwood. The scarce marks forced the pack to solve checks communally, finding true trail in the creek under Kirkwood. From here the path alternated between the Buffalo Bayou gravel trail, the Buffalo Bayou paved trail, and the Buffalo Bayou surface roads in the nearby neighborhood. After crossing Wilcrest again and arriving at a power line easement, the On In was sighted nearby, just across Buffalo Bayou. Here, the thirstier hashers braved the thrashing opaque “waters” and crossed the raging torrent to the beer on the other shore. Those more concerned with keeping their knickers dry retraced the path back to Wilcrest and followed the bike trails the rest of the way in. Whale’s Vagina walked home to shower and douche after swimming, and made it back in time for circle. Continue reading →