Feature Writing

By Lilly St. Angelo 

Published Feb. 3, 2022 in the Burlington Free Press 

From a distance, the Hash House Harriers might have been mistaken for a regular running group. Several of them had running shoes, running tights and brightly colored beanies. 

But on a closer look, the group that gathered Jan. 22 in City Hall Park didn't look normal at all. Clad in kilts, backpacks and knee-high socks, the runners hunched their bodies against the 11-mile-an-hour winds while beards froze in the 20 degree air. 

"We all survived two weeks ago the freezing cold and we're back out here for some weird reason," said Colin Rand, Von Tramp Hash House Harriers leader, also known as Flexible Video Endoscope or Flexy for short.

"It's colder, that's why," someone piped up. 

"We have no friends," said another. 

Who are these VT Hash House Harriers? 

About 15 men and women and one husky-mix dog comprised the group that stood in City Hall Park. Self-labeled as a "winter drinking club with a running problem," the Von Tramp Hash House Harriers is the winter alter ego of the Burlington Hash House Harriers, a local chapter of an international community that's been around for nearly 100 years. 

Started in Kuala Lumpur in 1938 by British colonists wanting to entertain themselves, hashing combined a child's game and drinking, and the concept of the Hash House Harriers spread across the world. Hashers are notorious for their purposefully insulting, self-deprecating, R-rated humor but also for their infectious silliness. On Jan. 22, the Von Tramp hashers were celebrating the Scottish poet Robert Burns, hence the kilts.

The hashing world can be invisible for those who don't know about it. 

"You have to have someone tell you about it," Charissa Beer said. 

Beer has been hashing for six years after starting at a hashing club, known as a kennel, in Kansas.  

"Every kennel does everything a little bit different," Beer said. "But there's things that are all the same. They all do the names, we all do the stupid running, we all drink the beer." 

The hash 

The hash is made up of a run and beer stops. The distance and direction is only known to the hare or hares, the people who create the trail. It begins with an opening circle where first-timers or "virgins" are identified, hashers introduce themselves with their hashing names, and hashing symbols are explained. 

Most of the groups' hashing names are too raunchy to be published, but are personalized and created by the hashing group they began hashing with. There's no specific set rule about when a hasher is given a name, but most say it happens when the person does something "really dumb" or comes hashing enough times, "which is equally as stupid."   

After introductions and an attempted explanation of the rules was complete, Rand and his partner stood in the middle of the circle for the warm-up. 

"Chickens attention, chickens begin," Rand yelled, jumping into a stiff, solder-like position with his arms and legs to his sides. 

"Right wing," he called, putting his right arm up like a wing. 

"Right wing," the small crowd responded, mimicking his movement. 

"Have you ever seen a super chicken team? If you look at me, a chicken you will see," the group sang, flapping their right arms. 

After several more call and responses, the group of adults were flapping arms, stomping feet and wiggling butts in the middle of City Hall Park, many unable to hide the grins on their faces. 

Husky-mix Diesel, also known as Dick Wolfer, stood in the middle of it all. Wolfer has been hashing with his owner long enough to have his hashing name embroidered on his harness. 

After the warmup, the hash was on. Hashers scattered and looked for symbols to lead them to the beer. When the correct path, which involves a series of "on" symbols marked in chalk, was found, the hasher yelled "on-on" and everyone followed to seek out the next symbol. 

There are various marks that don't give any clues but instruct the first person who sees them to do something, such as bend over for a light spank (only after consenting), run to the back of the line of hashers while high-fiving everyone on the way or stop the group for a song. When hashes take place in wooded areas, symbols are marked with colored flour. 

Finding community 

Birdie Pauley, also known as Black Out or Back Out or BOBO for short, was introduced to hashing by her dad who hashed since before she was born. She remembers helping set up for hashing parties as a kid. Her dad hashed in their Pennsylvania town outside of Philadelphia but also hashed in other countries including Germany and Ireland. 

Pauley moved in June to Burlington and joined the Burlington Hash House Harriers to make friends in her new city. 

Damien Garland joined the Burlington Hash House Harriers in 2020. One of his friends from work was a hasher and Garland was hungry for community in the midst of pandemic isolation.

"Working from home was pretty hard," Garland said. "I found a group of like-minded weirdos and it's kind of history from there." 

Since he joined, Garland said he's been on trails and to parts of town he'd never been to before he started hashing. He mentioned the club to his parents one day, feeling a bit embarrassed while describing the details. To his surprise, his parents revealed they had hashed in the past while on a trip to Indonesia. Garland said he wished he knew about hashing much earlier in his life so he could have hashed during international travels. 

'We do ridiculous, stupid things and we have a good time' 

About halfway through the hash, symbols led the hashers up the long hill of Pearl Street. 

Shouts were suddenly heard ahead and a runner came back down the hill yelling that trip up the hill had been for nothing and the hashers had to turn back toward town. 

Pauley said this was typical hashing shenanigans. Depending on the hare, Pauley said the hash can be more running-heavy or drinking-heavy, and the group always critiques the hare's trail at the end of the hash. 

After a rendezvous through a few backyards, the group found its first beer stop at a hasher's house. 

Rand stood on the porch of the house with a beer in hand and told the story of how he was named. 

A doctor who did colonoscopies was a part of his hashing group in Rhode Island where he started 13 years ago. He thought Rand's "nerd name" Colin (nerd names refer to hashers' regular names) sounded pretty close to colon and therefore named Rand after the medical instrument used to perform colonoscopies and check men for prostate cancer.   

Rand said he's hashed for 13 years because of the people he meets. Hashers come from all backgrounds — they're construction workers, city and state employees, doctors, nurses, techies, graphic designers and people from all over the world. 

"I think it's kind of the friendships you get out of it, to be honest," Rand said. "I mean the beer is a nice touch but honestly it's having something to do, something to look forward to." 

After more running and confusion, the hashers stopped at Olde Northender Pub and belted out a song called "Jesus Can't Go Hashing" to the tune of "Battle Hymn of the Republic" while passersby stared. 

Beer said the first time she went hashing, her group sang the same irreverent version of the hymn and she thought it was hilarious. She was hooked. 

"I died. I was like, this is so funny, it's ridiculous, I found my people," she said. "We do ridiculous, stupid things and we have a good time." 

As a mom, Beer said hashing gives her a few hours each week to be a little irresponsible as a responsible adult.   

When the hashers finally reached the end of the trail, the air was colder than when the hashers started. While hashers grabbed beers and passed around shots of scotch, the group circled up for their closing remarks. 

Through song, they complained about the trail, teased the "backsliders" who didn't go hashing two weeks before, made accusations of rule-breaking on the trail, celebrated a marriage and an engagement, and interrogated and welcomed the "virgins." 

It was time to go, but not really. The afternoon would creep into evening and the hashers would gather at a bar for more drinking and laughing and perhaps just one more song.