Yesterday afternoon my pal Andrea and I stood at the curb, shin-deep in snow, waiting for the light to change. A car drove by, topped with a pair of surfboards strapped to the roof, and Andrea and I both wondered if the duo inside were on day pass from a local institution. "Where are they going? It's freezing out," she said.

But then, we were on our way to run three miles in the snow (and the cold and the wind) for no good reason whatsoever, leaving us little room to point the "crazy" finger.

We were off to Ruski's to meet up with the new Portland contingent of the Hash House Harriers. Best known for being a "drinking group with a running problem," hash members, it seems, retain two qualities: they're okay runners and great drinkers. Some of them might even be great runners, but that's not what hashing is about.

"We all have special names and offices, we have weird, embarrassing initiation rituals and strange traditions, and it's really...about getting people together and having fun." So says the Portland Hashers co-founder - who prefers to be referred to by his hash name, "I can't believe it's not butt hare."

The Portland Hashers came to fruition this past November and now have about nine runs under their belt, each starting and ending at a Portland bar. And while hashing in other cities and countries has been going on for decades, this Portland group is still in its infancy. Traditions are still being established.

But the essential concept is simple: A "hare" runs out first, marking a trail along the way. The rest of the pack follows suit, keeping an eye out for marks that indicate the correct path.

Everybody runs (some - ahem - slightly slower than the others) and the trail ends at a local watering hole. They start at a local watering hole too. And sometimes you stop halfway at - you guessed it - a local watering hole.


On the trail, an arrow is what you think it is. It points the direction. In drier weather, the trail might be marked in chalk, but yesterday's hare chose red Gatorade. It was a brilliant idea - aside from the few marks lost to the tragic pitfalls of post-storm snow plowing.

But when you do spot an arrow, yelling "On on!" alerts the pack behind you that an arrow's been spotted and you're headed the right direction.

But then, sometimes you discover that you're not headed in the right direction at all. This mark means, essentially, "Ha ha. You're going the wrong way." Then it's time to turn around to try again.

And while it may seem frustrating for those fast runners at the front of the pack (I wouldn't know, I've never been one of them) it's a welcome opportunity for the rest of us to catch up...and pant and clutch our quads in pain.

Yesterday we did get lost about halfway through, so I took the time to talk my legs out of a disturbing suicide pact they'd apparently agreed upon as I ran down Fore Street.

The lungs chimed in, not being at all pleased with the 19-degree temperatures, but were still altogether grateful for the fresh air.

But my feet, of all things, felt fine. Or maybe they didn't feel anything. Climbing over mounds of piled snow and running through slushy streets might've set them to go numb way back at the start.



So why, then, would anyone do this?

There's always the bar to look forward too, of course. And that feeling of accomplishment, if you're into that sort of thing. But mostly it's the bar.

And there's something to be said for weirding out the locals with on-the-street antics and inappropriate attire (though, admittedly, this run was under fairly decent control).

But hashing also a stellar way to meet new people who share a penchant for the run and a love of the drink. As I was told, "It's a great way to meet people. Not much makes a group of strangers bond faster than collectively making an ass of themselves."

So, so true. I've met some of my favorite people that way.

Once back at Ruski's, and after we'd each warmed up with our beverage of choice, the group went outside for the hash circle. I'd like to describe the goings-on, but it's really something you should experience without being tainted by my description.

Let it suffice to say that crude drinking songs and mockery were involved - all in good fun, of course.

While the basics are simple, hashing has its own set of intricacies - the kind that take more than one hash run to understand. But based on my first-timer experience, I'd say you're well prepared with some decent shoes, $10 for the bar and a healthy sense of humor.

The next run is Saturday, Jan 17 at 2:30 pm, starting at the Front Room on Munjoy Hill.

For more info, or to get the e-mail blast about upcoming hashes, contact the folks in charge: portlandhashers@gmail.com

Or take a gander at the Portland Hashers Facebook page