AndesBoliviacholitasHash House HarriersHighest Hash House HarriersHotel OberlandLa PazlamaMalassaOktoberfestValle de Lunes
Malassa Hash Trail
Malassa is a little town located just outside to the west of La Paz. If you recall the report I posted about the Valle de Lunes, then you know we're in the right neighborhood.
To get there, you must climb a steep hill by car and pass through several little tunnels carved out of the rock. Look to your left and you will see some unmatched scenery of La Paz itself, not to mention the Andes beckoning in the distance.
Nearby is also the Hotel Oberland, the Swiss restaurant hosting the annual Oktoberfest here. Right around the corner is the house for the week's Hash, the drinking group with a running problem, and I have volunteered to be the hare this time around, the guy setting the trail with finely shredded paper (instead of the traditional flour that could easily be somebody's bread).
I start at a park that serves as the starting point. This is where I draw a large white circle with the white shredded paper. When I start out running, I realize that Malassa is very much a small town, not unlike the place I come from. I pass an old church, kids playing soccer with an old coke can, and a lama being led by an old cholita.
As I continue to sprinkle the white shredded paper, a man asks me, 'Para los hormigas?' (transl. Is that for the ants?) I lie, replying affirmatively, 'Claro que si'. Often I realize it takes too much trouble to explain exactly what a hash trail is and why a bunch of drunks would enjoy following it.
Finally, I descend into the riverbed, the sharp and gorgeous contours of the landscape so similar to the Valle de Lunes now visible. An old stray dog joins me. I call him 'Waldi', for want of a better name. Waldi decides to follow me down to the river bed.
I pass two fierce looking dogs chained to a post, a half dozen sheep, and a couple of horses. I now skillfully hop over the river, follow its curves, and lay the paper trail where people won't get wet, but will have to work to avoid the water. Waldi seems to be enjoying this little field trip.
What goes down must eventually come up, and I find a trail that will lead me out of the river bed and toward the zoo. This is a steep incline that will have the runners wailing when they reach it. A half a mile run on a grinding uphill slope is nothing to sneeze at, yet Waldi continues to soldier on with me, his tail wagging eagerly.
At the top of the hill I pause and admire the view of the canyon and the river below me. A couple of guys drinking beer on a park bench laugh when they see the paper trail. Around the zoo is where I lose Waldi. He was a wonderful pet, even though it was for less than an hour.
I run past the hundreds of eucalyptus trees, tricking the runners with what will turn out to be false trails. I carefully avoid the street. Though a run can be a grind at high altitude, it is best enjoyed without smog, in my humble opinion.
Finally, I take the trail around a school and draw a circle with shredded paper with a 'V' inside it. This is something unique to a hash trail, a 'Vista' check, meaning a checkpoint for the runners to simply stop and enjoy the gorgeous view of the Andes in front of them.
The worst of the blazing sun's effects is over for the day. I sit down and enjoy a bottle of Villa Santa water and wait for the Hashers to arrive.
To get there, you must climb a steep hill by car and pass through several little tunnels carved out of the rock. Look to your left and you will see some unmatched scenery of La Paz itself, not to mention the Andes beckoning in the distance.
Nearby is also the Hotel Oberland, the Swiss restaurant hosting the annual Oktoberfest here. Right around the corner is the house for the week's Hash, the drinking group with a running problem, and I have volunteered to be the hare this time around, the guy setting the trail with finely shredded paper (instead of the traditional flour that could easily be somebody's bread).
I start at a park that serves as the starting point. This is where I draw a large white circle with the white shredded paper. When I start out running, I realize that Malassa is very much a small town, not unlike the place I come from. I pass an old church, kids playing soccer with an old coke can, and a lama being led by an old cholita.
As I continue to sprinkle the white shredded paper, a man asks me, 'Para los hormigas?' (transl. Is that for the ants?) I lie, replying affirmatively, 'Claro que si'. Often I realize it takes too much trouble to explain exactly what a hash trail is and why a bunch of drunks would enjoy following it.
Finally, I descend into the riverbed, the sharp and gorgeous contours of the landscape so similar to the Valle de Lunes now visible. An old stray dog joins me. I call him 'Waldi', for want of a better name. Waldi decides to follow me down to the river bed.
I pass two fierce looking dogs chained to a post, a half dozen sheep, and a couple of horses. I now skillfully hop over the river, follow its curves, and lay the paper trail where people won't get wet, but will have to work to avoid the water. Waldi seems to be enjoying this little field trip.
What goes down must eventually come up, and I find a trail that will lead me out of the river bed and toward the zoo. This is a steep incline that will have the runners wailing when they reach it. A half a mile run on a grinding uphill slope is nothing to sneeze at, yet Waldi continues to soldier on with me, his tail wagging eagerly.
At the top of the hill I pause and admire the view of the canyon and the river below me. A couple of guys drinking beer on a park bench laugh when they see the paper trail. Around the zoo is where I lose Waldi. He was a wonderful pet, even though it was for less than an hour.
I run past the hundreds of eucalyptus trees, tricking the runners with what will turn out to be false trails. I carefully avoid the street. Though a run can be a grind at high altitude, it is best enjoyed without smog, in my humble opinion.
Finally, I take the trail around a school and draw a circle with shredded paper with a 'V' inside it. This is something unique to a hash trail, a 'Vista' check, meaning a checkpoint for the runners to simply stop and enjoy the gorgeous view of the Andes in front of them.
The worst of the blazing sun's effects is over for the day. I sit down and enjoy a bottle of Villa Santa water and wait for the Hashers to arrive.
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