Hash N+275 "India Hash"

Sunday, 12th of November

Amidst a half marathon in Brasilia, a folk nursing injury from imaginary cricket ball attacks, a migration of apartment-dwellers, and a scattering of wanderlusters, only a handful of die-hard Hashers managed to drag themselves to the Hash N+275.

Blame it on the scorching 36-degree inferno or the fact that even the city's pavement was considering a siesta, the turnout was as sparse as a desert oasis. The trail wound its way through a park boasting more abandoned attractions than a ghost town, including a wave pool and boccia fields, which no one had touched since the last ice age.

Sure, there were grumbles about trail markings playing hopscotch instead of sticking to a straight line, but those complaints were quickly dismissed when the accusers were spotted stumbling through the park like they'd just enrolled in the Tipsy Olympics. The beer stop was a beacon of hope in this arid adventure, and for once, the liquid consumed was more likely to hydrate than inebriate – a rare occurrence fueled by the relentless furnace above.

Post-trail, the customary circle unfolded, with golden ales flowing like enlightenment at a philosopher's convention. In summary, it was a trail hotter than a dragon's breath at 36 degrees, but nothing, not even a scorched trail, could deter the indomitable spirit of the hardcore Hashers. They might need ice packs and a compass next time, though.