The word “Run” in the picture above from Trail 602 scares me as it should you. Running is, however disgusting, characteristic of a Broke Bench Mountain trail. Running does not bother this man because he knows no matter how much exercise he gets he can easily compensate for it’s undesirable effects on him by excessive drinking.
There’s your primer for Hash 602. Now for the grisly details.
We began this study in poor judgment from old standby the Rush Inn. The city attempted to camouflage this hideous hangout by placing a huge clock tower in front of it. Sadly, the tall tower garnered too much attention and made it everything from Hippie Haven to the target of college pranks. (Bubble bath in the fountain beneath the clock) These activities attracted the attention of Vince Lamblowme who now conducts business on his cell phone from here. Dark, wet, musty places have always attracted the attention of Broke Bench Mountain (just ask Mass Storage Device) so he, too, found this casbah. Has Broke Bench been here before? Answer: The beertender knew his hash name AND his mortal moniker. Continue reading
While I do not find the above photo especially representative of Hash 601, anyone that takes almost a year to complete their fifth hash deserves all the abuse I can dump upon them. And believe me, this man deserves to be dumped on.
We’ll get to him later though, right now it’s our hideous hare that begs a hard humping.
Hugh Heifer assembled the herd at Boulder Creek Brewery, a good candidate for a new sitcom/murder mystery entitled CSI: Boulder Creek. Things went awry from the get-go: someone absconded with the hare’s flour bag. This set the tone for the comedy of errors that was to follow.
Hugh outed herself with Instructions of Trail that promised nothing more than that there will be beer for those few of us lucky enough to stumble across Beer Check. Couple Hugh’s innate poor trail-laying skills with her desire to retain as much of Beer Check beer as possible for personal use later and you have the formula for a disastrous trail rivaling that of one of TIMMY ‘s failed efforts.
Fifteen minutes later Banana Basher circled-up the pack on the main street of Boulder Creek, California, for the six-hundredth edition of this merry madness which forever be known as Surf City Hash 601.
Trail started out pleasantly enough heading out of town on Highway 9 towards Santa Cruz. With 20-20 hindsight, I should have continued walking in the direction of Santa Cruz and ignored the first check at the intersection with Mountain Street. (Gee, what an original name for a street located in the Santa Cruz MOUNTAINS!) TIMMY crossed Highway 9 on-right and at the next street, Boulder Street,( BOULDER Street? ANOTHER example of avant-guarde thinking) sounded the on-on. This happened almost simultaneously with hearing the on-on given a block away. TIMMY and Tiny Whiny Bitch turned in that direction but soon realized they were hashing trail backwards. By the time they returned, the rest of the pack had already moved on turning on-right on Boulder. A block later a hare arrow pointed the pod on-left on Harmon Street which later, for no apparent reason, morphs into Bush Street.
And the above is precisely what Surf City H3 has attempted to do for over a decade now. Sadly, this is not always a pleasurable experience and never has it been less enjoyable than when Vince Lamblowme assumes the reins of power as hare.
There. That sets the stage for another tragedy rivaling that of Romeo and Juliet. If you were smart you’d close this page and grab a beer. However, knowing you’re all half-minds of the first magnitude, I’ll drearily trudge through another Hash Trash and tie Vince to the whipping post as he so richly deserves.
Point A was the (New) Jury Room. This watering hole is new in even more ways this time, it has a new owner, a flame-haired beauty named Karen. As I arrived, I met her in the alley conversing with two of her cronies. She was asking if they thought the drinking club that was assembling inside would give their establishment a bad name around town. I told Karen we’d be gone by 7PM so she said, Okay….just this once.
No, the photo above is not a picture of the Milky Way taken by the Hubble telescope.
It is, sadly, what Occasional Rapist and dBASED believe is an appropriate commodity for use as trail marker. Hansel and Gretel may have appreciated having this available to them but it’s for damn sure Surf City found little if any use for it.
Allow me to put this in the context in which we encountered this useless crap.
Surf City assembled it’s traveling kennel inside the Castaways on Portola Drive. We have not been here in many, many moons and if you’ve ever been here you know why. This, of course, was the whim of the hares so that right there tells you the quality of our hare-pair. Part of their Instructions of Trail included proudly displaying the above material which they said they’d be using as trail marker. I will gladly purchase flour for them next time they hare although personally I hope that does not happen within my lifetime. After IoT was completed, they hopped on-out placing a check near the front door. Thirteen minutes later, Banana Basher corralled the critters and a circle was formed and introductions completed. It was noted this was Just Brian’s fifth hash and he would be named during Religion, assuming he survived this trail. Speaking of ‘this trail’, here’s how it went. You will not find this very uplifting so fill you glass with that in mind.
Cuff My Muff had seen the hares earlier so the first part of trail was both quick and pleasant. Let’s fast forward to a check on Portola near 32nd Avenue. TIMMY traipses across Portola and soon sounds the on-on south on 30th towards the bay. This lasted, predictably, until the locals-only path on-right leading into the woods surrounding Moran Lake, or Moron Lake as we hashers know it. Sure enough, that was the path chosen for us and we proceeded towards East Cliff Drive. And, I feel I should mention, at a high rate of speed when passing the waste treatment plant. A check encountered at East Cliff was almost ignored. Many hounds thought to go directly across the street and intercept the hares. But, owing to the fact trail was so short up to this point, stupidity got the better of the pack and we followed true trail on-right on East Cliff. The next check was viewed at 26th. On-right proved false and everyone then turned on-left toward the beach. Chad continued along East Cliff but was called back by the on-on sounded from the beach. Apparently though, true trail actually did continued along East Cliff until the beach is reached just past 23rd. It seems only TIMMY did this section of trail. Trail was discovered on the beach at 26th before Chad found marker on East Cliff.