Half-Mind Rant

On the road again!

As I often am, I'm on the road for work in a foreign land, this time back in Asia once again. While traveling around the countryside, I have this internal pang every time I see a dirt trail leading into the woods. Do you ever have that feeling? You may only get a glimpse, but that is enough . . . the call of nature (no, not that kind), but the calling to slip on your running shoes and jog up and down whatever terrain feature presents itself. It is frustrating when you know you have to work. It is doubly frustrating when you know there are hashes going on but you lack the time or are too far away to get there. Man, I hate that. It does not help when you check your email only to find that your home hash group has just run the best hash of the year back home, and you missed it. But, enough with the rant, now the alternative . . .

On the road once again, to a foreign land . . . and you have the time and the opportunity to run with a hash you have never run with before. Excitedly, you track down the website, or through a friend of a friend you get a contact, and once you get into town you look forward to making the call. Fingers slightly trembling, as you dial the number in hopes that whoever answers will have the faintest idea what you are talking about when you say, HELLO - IS THIS THE NUMBER TO CALL FOR THE HASH? That does not always go over well, believe it or not. Especially if a friend answers the phone or someone gets a hashers old number. But, after you do make contact you immediately feel a warmth come over your body, so you go on . . . I am calling to find out when the next hash run is . . . and they tell you that you are in luck, the next trail is tomorrow. They go on to say, although they cannot pick you up, they can give you specific instructions to the start. So you write feverishly to ensure that you get every detail. You then relax knowing that you have achieved success. You then happily make your way through the next day, just waiting until you can scurry back to the hotel and change, pack your bag, and head for the front door. You hail a taxi and make your best attempt to decipher the directions you have been given, and feebly speak whatever the local language is mixed in with phrases and clauses from four other languages that you have picked up while on the road. All this in an attempt to make it across town in time, and find the start. As the taxi chugs along, you nervously watch every street sign, looking for each turn - each landmark, and after what seems like forever, you turn down a street and see 30 people gathered round in shorts and brightly colored shirts, you feel relieved knowing you have arrived . . . ahhhh, the hash.

Having achieved the most difficult part, you again relax because no matter what happens, you are in for something grand. The joy of meeting new people and experiencing some new hash tradition that just seems to make it one of the most memorable trails, circles, or on-after you have ever been to. Out on the trail you see things you would never see as a tourist, and certainly things you would never see back home. Jogging along, sometimes not sure of the different marks they may use, but close enough to be sure you are going the right way. Eventually, you make to the finish and break open a local beer - oh does that taste good. You wander around and chit chat and make more new friends in anticipation of the rest of the evening. You also work your way over to the hash haberdasher to get a hash t-shirt that you know you will wear back home, just to show off. You may even buy a few extras to share with your friends. Eventually you see the end is nearing, through a slight h aze of beer fog, you head back to your hotel to sleep it off, or as some hashers would say, rest. All the while knowing when you are headed to the airport tomorrow, you will get that feeling of . . . I can't wait to get home and share your trail tails with your friends. I just love it, the joy of hashing!