Stars, Stripes, and Hash: The Tarheels' 686th Fuses well with Sir Walter's 1746th!
Lickety
In this hash announcement, Rainbow, mindful of the searing July heat, strongly recommended that we stay well-hydrated for her event. Little did we know that nature would take care of that!
Stars, Stripes, and Hash: The Tarheels' 686th Fuses well with Sir Walter's 1746th!
Who was there:
Hare: Taste the Rainbow
Newbies: Just Alex
Guests and Assistants: Rainbow’s other half, Just Heath
The rest of the Pack: Queefie; Endangered Feces; Swings on Wood; Short Shaft; Just Lucy; St. Rollherover; Bullysticks; Just Guy; SeeNoEno; SpeakNoEno; HearNoEno; Tight Lips; Gockel Stumper; Frau Farter; A$$ Clown; Slow Hole; Just Bart; Wooden Eye; Krusty Beard; Dicktaphone; Sticky Num-Nums; Sh*t Just Goat Serious; Lick My Finger; Super Dave; Comfort; Slippery Slot; Lickety Spit
Photo Album:
Below is the link to Flickr.com’s photo album for the Tarheel hash’s 686th and Sir Walters’ 1746th.. The photos and captions complement the summary, taking us through neighborhood streets and shiggiful sections that sum up an amazing trail. The album also covers our continued merriment at the Après, with traditional Independence Day fare to rejuvenate hungry hashers -and the clean, earthy aroma of a summer rain. Be sure to hover your mouse over the bottom of each photo to read the captions!
https://www.flickr.com/photos/147890119@N04/albums/72177720327403876/
Summary
Sparks and Showers – Before the Trail Begins
One of the more memorable twists to the event was the steady summer rain—but in true hasher spirit, no one minded getting wet. We gathered under the shelter of Rainbow and Heath’s garage, where coolers of beer stood ready like old friends. The group was sizeable, with members of both the Sir Walter’s and Tarheel groups chatting and quaffing iced beverages.
As more hashers gathered, I wandered to a fence overlooking the back of the property, where a small pond added charm to a blanket of grass peppered with shrubs. Beyond those, a dense population of trees stretched endlessly from where we stood.
After circling up and trading introductions, the hare—channeling the spirit of true democracy—laid out two options for the day’s hash and put them to a vote:
• Brave the trail solo in search of flour marks, many likely washed away, risking a few wayward hashers
• Or stick together with the hare for a more relaxed group ramble.
A quick show of hands settled it: nearly everyone favored the latter.
Before heading out, Rainbow surprised us with festive party favors—huge sparklers to kick off the course. Lighting them proved tricky, since fire and water seldom mix, and the clouds were beginning to release what they could no longer hold. Nevertheless, a handful of hashers successfully ignited their torches and shared their flames with others. Bright orange points of light pierced the thickening smoke, smelling like the gunpowder of old cap guns from the ’50s and ’60s.
When the sparklers began to fizzle out, they got pitched—burnt ends first—into a black bucket of water provided by the hare. Faint hissing noises confirmed their demise. Primed for Rainbow’s foray, we surrendered to the showers. In fact, we embraced the weather, knowing a tropical depression was well on its way to Durham.
Shiggy, Snacks, and Scenic Surprises
Taste the Rainbow gave the word, and hashers hastened up the driveway toward the street—only to be redirected into a shiggiful section of the hare’s acreage, where the trees offered enough shelter to preserve flour marks on bark and ground. Onward we trudged, stepping over logs, dodging stones, and watching for roots to avoid tripping.
The trail transitioned as we exited the dense greenery onto an asphalt road, glossed over by intermittent showers and mirroring the overcast sky and foliage. Our foot journey became a picturesque blend of untamed terrain and well-groomed neighborhoods, with rain that danced between drizzles and downpours.
One house exuded rustic charm with its abundant gardens, bordered by an old white picket fence and a gate sign reading Hilltop Farm. After passing it, we veered off the road to follow marks along a power line running parallel to a wall of tall evergreens. Down the center, a series of towers connected by wires stretched upward into thick clouds, marking our passage until the flour directed us to another road riddled with potholes and puddles.
At an intersection, we paused for a Hash Halt while the rest of the pack caught up. While we waited, one hasher—Sh*t Just Goat Serious—put on a show by leaping high into the air and landing squarely in a rain-filled pothole, sending up a splash both impressive and highly amusing.
Once everyone had reassembled, hare and hounds moved forward along a swath of wet grass, eventually reaching a sidewalk oddly placed beside a continuous wall of trees. Rainbow stood nearby, beside a partly washed-out symbol in flour—but both kennels recognized it, having been on the lookout for anything resembling “BB.”
Without hesitation, we meandered into a shady hollow where the hush of the woods was broken only by our chuckling and the squelch of soggy shoes. Tall green blades brushed against our legs as we approached two large coolers, and the scent of wet earth rose around us. Coolers were opened, cans of beverages seized, and individual bags of chips happily consumed. Rainbow had found the ideal spot to deliver the refreshments that would boost our energy for the rest of the hike.
When it was time to drink up and resume, I was grateful for the cotton rag tied to my bag’s shoulder strap—perfect for drying my phone and camera lenses as the rain, after a brief hiatus, began again.
Exiting the arboreal fortress, we found ourselves on a tree-lined street and spotted a little free library, made all the more charming by a ceramic bluebird and her babies nesting on top.
The street turned off, and we followed it—soon stopping when we saw the hare just outside a cluster of trees, pointing toward the final stretch. After passing through the brush, we descended from street level to find a creek below, now swollen by the increasing rain. I followed Sir Walter’s Frau Farter and Sh*t Just Goat Serious into the water—shallow at first, but deeper in places, sometimes nearly up to our knees.
After a while, Frau and I climbed out of the creek and onto a small rise at its edge, where she spotted a clutch of tiny, cream-colored eggs—already hatched. She gently scooped them into her palm for a closer look and a quick screenshot, but even up close, we couldn’t quite tell which species had left them behind.
Minutes after placing the eggs back on the sand, we continued on—at least for a while—until the hare showed up to ask if anyone was still on trail. We replied that one hasher was still behind us. Hearing that, Rainbow pointed us toward her place before heading back out to retrieve the other hasher.
The Après: Holiday Fare and Nature’s Cologne
The three of us—Sh*t Just Goat Serious, Frau, and I—scurried up a small hill and spotted a concrete manhole cone with “On In” written in blue chalk. We cut through the yard and reached our final destination: the Après.
Through the open garage entrance, we saw the other hashers toweling off, unfolding lawn chairs, and settling in—each staking out a spot for post-trail lounging. A long table stretched along one side of the spacious room, laden with classic Independence Day fare: hot dogs with all the fixings (chili and slaw), and next to the dogs, a generous pan of creamy macaroni and cheese offered a succulent treat for kids of all ages. Hashers filled their plates and enjoyed the spread in the spirit of the holiday.
On a nearby table, two tempting desserts beckoned. One was a generous dish of banana pudding—southern hospitality in a bowl—layered with vanilla wafers and sized to feed an army… or at least a hungry pack of hashers.
Beside it sat See and SpeakNoEno’s gluten-free blackberry crisp, a runaway favorite that vanished quickly onto the plates of an eager crowd. The blackberries, by the way, were handpicked from the NoEnos’ own yard, making this a truly home-grown delight. A copy of the recipe is included as an attachment, and it’s well worth trying—even if it means resorting to store-bought berries. I’ve saved the instructions and am game to give it a whirl. It’s not only a perfect après to a hearty meal, but also a refreshing breakfast—ideal for overnight guests.
Coolers still brimmed with beverages to complement the good eats. While some folks reclined in their chairs, others mingled—circulating with friends and getting acquainted with fellow hashers for the first time.
A row of hashers brought their plates to the threshold of the open garage entrance, savoring the clean, earthy aroma that often goes with a good rain. What causes this distinctive scent? It’s a blend of natural elements that together form nature’s own cologne:
1) Geosmin – A compound produced by soil-dwelling bacteria called actinomycetes. When rain hits dry soil, geosmin is released into the air. Humans are remarkably sensitive to it—tiny amounts trigger that unmistakable “earthy” smell.
2) Plant Oils - During dry spells, plants exude oils that settle onto rocks and soil. Rain releases these oils into the air, adding subtle botanical notes to the scent.
3) Ozone – Before a storm, lightning splits nitrogen and oxygen molecules in the atmosphere, which then recombine into ozone. Winds push this ozone down to ground level, lending the air a crisp, slightly metallic tang—especially noticeable in summer.
4) Moisture amplification - Rain increases humidity, which enhances our sense of smell by helping scent molecules travel more efficiently to our noses.
Together, these elements create what scientists call petrichor—a term coined in 1964 by two Australian researchers, from the Greek petra (stone) and ichor (the ethereal fluid said to flow in the veins of the gods).
My question is: when will chemists figure out how to bottle this? I see a lucrative opportunity on the horizon!
Acknowledgments:
More Photographs: Fine Additions to the Flickr album
Lick My Finger contributed delightful photos highlighting the trail! Hashers slogging through Rainbow’s lush acreage, our group on a rain-soaked road mirroring the surroundings, hashers waiting for others to catch up (with a SERIOUSLY rain-filled pothole begging for a splash), and, on the final stretch, brave hashers wading through a creek of murky waters deepened by showers foretelling Chantal’s storms soon to erupt. Thank you, LMF – these pictures are fantastic!
Delectable Dessert Contributors
A big thank-you to See and SpeakNoEno for bringing their blackberry crisp, made with berries picked from their own yard. In kind consideration for the hare, this recipe is gluten-free—a thoughtful touch for those reducing or eliminating gluten from their diets.
The recipe is shared as an attachment and will be a welcome addition to our collections. It’s hard to beat a dessert as healthful as it is delicious, so this home-grown crisp is truly a keeper!
The hare, Taste the Rainbow
Our own Taste the Rainbow stepped up to hare July’s Independence Day hash—as she’s done historically—so one might suspect a fondness for liberty, trail dust, and well-timed chaos. While we won’t go so far as to call her patriotic, let’s just say her calendar seems to know when freedom rings.
Hashing itself traces its roots to military ingenuity—born in British-occupied Kuala Lumpur, where soldiers awaiting orders found camaraderie and fitness in the “paper chase,” not unlike the hare-and-hound events held in England. The hare would mark the trail; the hounds gave chase. It was a diversion, a discipline, and a way to stay sharp while the world waited to shift.
So how fitting that on a day commemorating our break from British rule, we gathered to follow marks through woods and neighborhoods—celebrating independence not with muskets and manifestos, but with flour, sweat, and, in most instances, the highly anticipated beer break. Rainbow’s trail honored that legacy with flair, exercising democracy by inviting a vote: should we set off solo in search of rain-erased marks, or stay together on a group foray to ensure no hashers got lost on trail?
Voting reflected our shared legacy: the freedom to choose, with respect for the majority’s will.
We’re grateful to celebrate this holiday by hashing at Taste the Rainbow’s event. May her trails always be tricky, her beverage stops well-placed, and her July hashes forever suspiciously well-timed.
More about the Hare:
Beyond her role as a hasher and hare, Taste the Rainbow is a certified volunteer NC Master Naturalist—think Master Gardener, but for the wild and wonderful world beyond the garden gate. She was part of the inaugural class of NC Master Naturalists in 2024, completing a year of training to earn her certification. For those who’d like to follow in her footsteps, the NC Master Naturalist program, ncmasternaturalists.org
is now recruiting for the class of 2026.
Over the years, Rainbow has contributed her time and talents to many causes. She was an active participant in Beyond Fences, a Durham-based organization that provides support and resources for pets and their owners. As a member of the Carolina Godiva Track Club, she was honored as “Volunteer of the Year” at one of their annual banquets.!
From certified naturalist to animal welfare advocate to track club volunteer—and more contributions, no doubt—Taste the Rainbow embodies the spirit of service, curiosity, and grit. Her trails invite us to move with purpose, notice the world around us, and revel in the wild joy of showing up—for each other, to find true trail in the land we claim as ours.
And so, with trail swept and spirits lifted, we raise a toast to Taste the Rainbow—whose knack for leading with heart, humor, and a well-placed vote reminds us that liberty, like hashing, is best enjoyed in good company… and, in this case, muddy shoes.