Hash 745 Hades Hills from Hell

Greetings out there in voyeur land,

 

Puff the Magic Drag Queen here. Puff has been coerced into becoming acting Scribe due to neither Pink Cherry Licker or Occasional Rapist showing snout at this week’s hash. PCL claimed she had a job function to perform. Since when did working take priority over hashing? And as for our Rapist friend, she said after her trip to the Dominican Republic, she’s “tired of people”. If we were to substitute the word “dBASED” for the word “people”, I think we’d be far closer to the truth. Lastly, it was decided the third side of the scribing triangle,  Shallow Hole, should not be allowed to scribe her own trail. Funny thing but when Scribes are hares, and visa versa, their trail was stupendous and has set a new standard for hashing. We learned this in the olde days when Puff was Scribe and did the writeup when he hared.

Mercifully, as almost all of this trail consisted of off-roading, Puff will have very little to write. Even more, trail was an unholy terror best forgotten by the few that hashed it and should not be added to the memory of those that (wisely) skipped it.

Point A was a parking lot on Green Hills Road. A very pleasant name for a really horrible area. Things started poorly. Most of the pack arrived long before Beermistress Hugh Heifer came careening in. Hounds raided Beer Check beer from co-hare Shallow Hole until Hugh’s beer wagon arrived. Last hound to arrive, Dog Breath, searched his car and discovered he’d neglected to bring shorts. Hugh said, “Oh, I’ve got plenty of men’s clothing under the seat in my truck!” Wisely, no one asked why. Right now you may be thinking, “That worked out great!” Remember though, this is the hash and we’re talking about Dog Breath. Here’s the scene that unfolded. Dog Breath dropped his jeans and got into Hugh’s shorts, so to speak, without bothering to hide his white butt behind his car. Yes, Dog Breath changed clothes right in front of the entire horrified pack. Not an especially auspicious beginning to a hash, was it?

Instructions of Trail were completed as soon as Shallow Hole noticed no one was bothering to listen. The hares then outed themselves but not in the direction of trail head. This is another thing I don’t like, dBASED deciding to “blaze his own trail”.  This, too, frequently portends potential problems for the pack. The only thing that really gets “blazed” are the poor bastards that have to follow him.

008Seen above is on-out with Just Jeremiah and Just Marisol leading the litter. Sadly, their energy level would decrease dramatically over the course of trail. Soon after this, there was some confusion as to trail direction. A number of hounds returned to Green Hills Road but then turned back on-left through a business parking lot, into the woods and onto a fire road. Broke Bench Mountain was seen about this time but said a recent foot injury would prevent him from hashing this trail. This being a dBASED trail, what the hell was he expecting?!? He was not seen again though I bet had Hugh inventoried her beer trough, she’d find Broke Bench may have paid it a visit before he left!

010 The picture above is indicative of the hill-hell that was Hash 745. There is little else I need to say about it nor does it DESERVE any more to be said of it. There were a number of these huge hills, each and every one lined with poison oak. PO, not being a fan of too much water, has exploded onto the scene in this third year of drought. Trail featured precious few checks as there was nowhere-else-the-hell-to-go. Liquor Check also turned out to be a YBF as backtracking was required to locate trail after it. A curmudgeon-hiker was encountered who refused to acknowledge our presence. Many sections of this poorly-maintained trail featured ankle-twisting crevices, rocks to be dealt with and low hanging tree branches that threatened to pull out handfuls of hair.         The picture above is not one of the Wee Folk but a doll found at the site for Beer Check. There were a number of these curious curios in redwood stumps scattered about.  Their purpose and origin remain unknown.

Th pack had spread out like butter in a frying pan. It was a good twenty-plus minutes from FRB to DFL. It was beginning to get dark when the last, lost and lonely hounds came in off the mountain. Beer Check was quickly adjourned then Religion convened back at Point A.

Accuprick assumed the reins and appointed Cumcerto his Beer Fairy. Dog Breath was punished for mooning the pack. Jeremiah and Marisol were punished as back sliders. Cumcerto and Dung-Fu Grip were made a laughing stock for sliding backwards on trail almost as much as they moved forward. Chip and Jeremiah were chided for peeing along trail. Until tonight, I had not been aware mandatory biological functions were a criminal act. Well, leave it to Accuprick to insure everyone receives their fair share of abuse justified or not. Chip was awarded a down-down for being such a motivational cheerleader along trail and TIMMY for nominating him. TIMMY remained at the altar and was treated to a rousing chorus of Get a life! for the completion of his 425th has with us. Shallow Hole was congratulated for surviving la vida loco another year. Again she claimed it to be her 29th birthday. If one hare drinks, they ALL drink so dBASED joined her. Both remained at the altar to suffer the slings and arrows of an outraged pack  over this trail.

On-on-on was at Salsa’s Mexican restaurant but was only attended by Cumcerto, who continued drinking, Dog Breath, who mercifully kept his clothes on, TIMMY, already in the cups and consequently refrained from his usual whiskey and your acting Scribe.

That’s pretty much it for Trail 745. I will now return to my search for signs of intelligent life in Santa Cruz.

By Special Appointment of His Royal Majesty “G”, this Hash Trash has been compiled and printed by permission of no one other than the author at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, the first day of June in the year of our Hash two-thousand and fourteen.

With all respect due,

Puff the Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3

 

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