Hurtling through a Herndon neighborhood, breathing hard and covered in sweat, Dick Knoblauch — or "Lug Nuts" as his friends call him — is hot on the trail.
"Are you?" call his 50 fellow Hash runners following just shortly behind, asking if he is running in the correct direction.
Having just seen a small circle of flour at the bottom of the cul-de-sac, Knoblauch knows he is indeed heading the right way.
"On check!" yells back the 62-year-old Great Falls resident. Only four more miles to go before the beer.
Knoblauch is a member of the Great Falls Hash House Harriers, the local chapter of an international running game that involves flour, drinking, juvenile nicknames and cross-country running.
It is, as Knoblauch and others call it, a drinking club with a running problem.
"This isn't just a running club. This is a great group of friends who happen to run," he said, nursing a Coors Light as he rested after last Wednesday's run near Frying Pan Park. "It lets us be stupid."
Hashing was invented 66 years ago by British expatriates in Malaysia, who based the sport on the children's game, Hares and Hounds. They named themselves the Hash House Harriers because of the British term for cross-country running and the club they frequented. Today, more than 1,700 hash groups can be found in more than 180 countries.
The sport involves a pack of runners following an all-terrain trail marked by flour set by one hasher designated as the "Hare."
The pack runs along the Hare's trail for roughly four to six miles, attempting to avoid false trails and loops, crossing streams and fields, through thick mud and forests. At the end of the run, the hashers celebrate by drinking beer at the Hare's house.
"It's a chance to be a kid again, once a week," said Bob "Scuzzy Navel" Jones, a Reston resident who has logged 696 runs with the Great Falls hashers since 1984.
THE GREAT FALLS hash group was formed in May 1982. One of its members has completed more than 1,000 hash runs, and 113 of its members have logged over 100 hashes.
The hashers run in all weather — rain, heat, snow or hurricane — and have only canceled one hash since the club's inception 22 years ago. They run once a week, alternating primarily between Reston, Ashburn, Herndon and Great Falls.
"I've never been a joiner," said Lisa "Moaner" Derrenbacker, a Reston resident who started hashing in 1987. "And you don't join the hash. You just show up."
After 100 runs with the Great Falls group, the other hash runners provide a nickname — often scatological — which usually refers to the person's job or a personality quirk.
Hashing, several Great Falls runners said, tends to foster close-knit friendships. More than a few hashers met their spouses in the Great Falls group.
"It's the one place that no matter what you do, no matter what your political persuasion is, it doesn't matter," said Bill "Wombat" Brent, a Reston resident who works for the U.S. State Department. "None of that makes a damn bit of difference here."
The Great Falls group tries to keep things informal and relaxed. Some hashers walk the trail or push strollers, while the more serious runners push ahead.
The Great Falls group follows only two rules. Rule number one is that there are no rules. Rule number two is: see rule number one.
ONE OF THE BEST things about hash running is that it is a global sport. A hasher can travel to other countries, link up with the local chapter and have an instant group of friends, said Peter Edwardsson, a Great Falls systems analyst originally from Sweden.
"I started doing this in Sweden in 1991. It's a great network," he said, wearing a t-shirt that declared "When I read about the evils of drinking, I quit reading." Edwardsson goes by the hash name of "Meatish Sweet Balls."
The Great Falls chapter has a reputation among other area hash clubs — there are several in Washington, D.C. and one in Mount Vernon — for being relatively tame.
"We serve wine at our hashes," said Herndon resident Mark "Eat it Raw" Revesman. "That's sacrilegious elsewhere."
Hashers of all ages participate, including teenagers and retirees. There is less emphasis on drinking and debauchery at the Great Falls group, said Bob "Valiant" Vickers, a CIA employee who lives in Great Falls.
"It's not like we're some drunken stag orgy," Vickers said. "We've got families. Sometimes our kids come along."
SEEING A MASS of sweaty hashers running through the suburbs can be a disconcerting sight. Last week, several Herndon residents gawked in confusion as the hashers passed.
They usually try to secure landowners' permission before running through yards, but sometimes hashers unwittingly run through people's property.
Two weeks ago, Loudoun County police stopped several members of the Great Falls group after a homeowner complained about the mad dash through their neighborhood. Police have also been called several times over the last three years because flour markings raised fears of anthrax.
Apart from the occasional run-in with the law, members of the Great Falls hash group count on the weekly runs for a reliably great time, said Reston resident Ross "Just Dew Me" Knoblauch, who is Dick Knoblauch's son.
"It's a great, eclectic mix of people having a good time," he said. "It's a combination of enjoying something physical and great camaraderie."