Hashers’ San Juan Mission Is a Beer Run

At first glance, it looked like any other footrace on a sunny Saturday in Orange County. Runners wearing fluorescent shorts and carrying bottles of mineral water struggled up and down hills and horse trails in San Juan Capistrano, pausing occasionally to marvel at the stunning ocean views.

But wait. Why do they keep blowing whistles and tooting bugles? Why do they keep looking at the ground in search of chalk marks and flour? Why are pink-and-white rabbit ears attached to some of their visors?

Because this is no ordinary race.

This is a gathering of the Hash House Harriers, a group of unusual runners gathered from around the world whose proud goal is to reach the end of the event because that’s where the beer is.

“We’re totally masochistic lushes,” proclaimed hasher Chong (whose wife and fellow hasher is named Cheech). Hashers abandon their given names for nicknames after completing six hashes, or runs.

Hashes are roughly based on the English game of hounds and hares. Hashing had its start 57 years ago when English army officers stationed in Malaysia invented it.

Before the event, several hashers are designated as “hares” who wear rabbit ears, start about 15 minutes ahead of the pack and mark the trail using chalk, flour and toilet paper. But watch out for those circles with an X in the middle--they are indicators of a false trail.

The hashers fan out upon reaching those circles until the real trail is found amid honks, whistles and shouts of “On-On!” (meaning they are on the trail). On Saturday, about 800 hashers were bused to from San Diego to San Juan Capistrano, the site of this year’s Interhash.

Hashes started at five different spots in San Juan Capistrano and all ended up at Cook Park off Ortega Highway.

There are about 100 hasher chapters in the United States, including ones in Orange County, Long Beach, San Diego and La Jolla, and another 600 chapters around the world, said organizer Apollo, also known as Terry Ede. The registration fee for this hash was $135, he said, with proceeds going to several San Diego charities.

The runners, Apollo explained, are men and women in professional occupations--doctors, lawyers, computer programmers--who just want to let off a little steam. So on the weekends, the hashers trade their business suits for more frivolous garb, including a baseball hat with a stuffed shark fin on top, a top hat, and a even a Mighty Mouse costume with a flowing red cape.

Many hashers sported nylon running shorts with “On-On” printed on the back, as well as T-shirts from previous hashes in places ranging from Beijing to Boston. Each hash has a name, such as the “I-Got-You-Babe” run in Palm Springs, commemorated with a T-shirt bearing the toothy smile of Mayor Sonny Bono.

Some hashers delight in being outrageous, such as those who boasted of “mooning” freeway drivers while riding the bus on the trip from San Diego.

The sometimes rowdy reputation of the hashers resulted in a bit of nervousness at San Juan Capistrano City Hall, where officials received a number of calls from residents who feared that the hashers would damage their pricey neighborhoods, Apollo said.

“We’re out here to have fun,” an annoyed Apollo said. “We’re not going to hurt anybody.”

He said it took him nearly two years to plan the event, including arrangements for food, accommodations, medical attention, trail designs and even a couple of Pinkerton security guards just in case things got out of hand at the park.

“We’re very professional,” he said.

It takes the hashers about an hour to complete their four- to six-mile runs, for which there are no rules. At the top of one San Juan Capistrano knoll (where a hare had written “GREAT VIEW” in flour), a pack of veteran hashers decided to take a shortcut down the side of a steep, brush-covered hill. That’s what is known as a shiggy--anything that goes off the trail into areas that result in scratches, muddy shoes, and the like.

“This is one of the best shiggies I’ve been on in a long time,” said Batta, a Pittsburgh hasher whose knee was bleeding when he reached the bottom of the hill.

But there was an even better shiggy at the end of the trail. The hashers had to duck through a tunnel and traipse through knee-high mud in a creek bed before arriving at Cook Park for the end-of-the-run party.

There, the hashers headed for the beer table and then for the food line, where spaghetti, salad and rolls were served.

A portable shower was set up on a nearby cement volleyball court so that mud-caked hashers could rinse off.

Some hashers stripped down to swimsuits and basked in the afternoon sun while waiting for the hasher skits to begin on a makeshift stage.

As hasher Nabob said: “It just don’t get no better than this.”