Hash 1181 Steel Bonnet Debacle

Greetings,

After last week’s fiasco, Scribe found it necessary to take a vacation to recuperate from the atrocities perpetrated against the pack. I made my escape to Palm Springs where, serendipitously and strictly by coincidence, my visit coincided with the fourth (semi)annual Hash Springs. As the only Surf City hasher in the general vicinity, I felt it incumbent upon me to represent our kennel. And I did. And there was much rejoicing. With no dBASED, Dung-Fu Grip, Baker’s Dozen’t or Steamy Baanorrhea in attendance, Scribe felt obligated to undertake Saturday’s Eagle trail. The few of us that foolishly did such in mid-ninety degree heat saw an elevation gain of over seventeen hundred feet and six and a half-plus miles passed beneath our rear paws. In this matter, there was NO rejoicing.

It did, however, vanquish the memories of Hash 1181 from my memory. That DID create rejoicing.

This event began placidly enough from Rat Pussy’s (current) place of employment, Steel Bonnet Brewing. In retrospect, I believe his employer was more than happy to 1) Welcome a large group of known beer-swillers to their business and 2) Give Rat Pussy some unpaid time off. Let’s hope they did not notice how much more efficiently the business operated when he was NOT working.

The gang awaits Instructions of Trail. Once ignored, we can continue drinking.

Instructions of Trail were incompetently conveyed by co-hare Dung-Fu Grip. Many promises were made and, knowing we no longer trust him, Dung-fu Grip was able to make outlandish promises aware of the fact that 1) Very few hashers were paying attention to his pronouncements and 2) The few that did waste time listening felt them to be more of a comedy routine than actual details of trail. At some point after he started talking, he stopped and then hare-pair Dung-Fu Grip and Rat Pussy left. I do not know exactly when this happened because, like I said, few persons were listening. Co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain put the clowns on the clock though and that’s all that really matters.

Upon the completion of the fifteen minute lead time, these same co-GM’s called for and received Circleup for Introductions, the results of which are recorded here: Banana Basher, Baker’s Dozen’t, Hareless, My Little Bony, Wicked Retahted, Pretty Fly For A Pi Guy, dBASED, Fap Jack, Pink Cherry Licker, Shallow Hole, Deadliest Snatch, Steamy Baanorrhea, Just Bryant, Just Sara, L’eggs, Cum You Will Not, Clearly Not A Hooker, Accuprick, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, International House Of Pussy and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Everyone has taken their position, let the game begin.

It was across Scotts Valley Drive and into a large business complex to begin our travels this evening. Hacienda Drive was our destination where an on-left was indicated which began a rather unpleasant on-up. When Hacienda takes an on-left, the troops were told to on-right onto Casa Way. Casa Way eventually makes a turn on-right and on-down to Glenwood Drive where we were pointed on-left and on-out of civilization. The Turkey/Eagle split was observed at Scotts Valley High School. It’s obvious the Eagles will traipse on-up into Glenwood Preserve. Let’s fly with them tonight.

Just past Scotts Valley High School, we were led on-left onto K Street and immediately on-right to begin yet another arduous on-up into West Glenwood Preserve. We started on Blue Trail and then illegally transitioned onto Orange-Blue Trail via a cordoned off hillside. So much for preserving the Preserve.

As you probably guessed, this is precisely where trail took us

Let’s ignore that transgression and move farther along Orange-Blue Trail before park rangers arrive. We continued the on-up and eventually reached the splitting of Orange and Blue back into separate trails. We went with Blue which, mercifully, began an on-down and eventually, again via an illegal trail, dumped us back onto Glenwood Drive and on-right back towards Scotts Valley. We pedaled along narrow Glenwood until making an on-left onto Deerfield Drive, on-right onto Meadow Drive and ALMOST back to Glenwood but were directed on-left into some minor shiggy. At first it appeared easy but then a six-foot high chain link fence presented itself. There was no quick way around so it was up-and-over. This put us on Shugart Park Pathway which brought us onto Vine Hill Elementary School grounds where Beer Check was staged. Knowing it would be a good idea to leave prior to the arrival of local constabulary, the pack powered on-out with the Turkeys taking Vine Hill School Road while the Eagles continued through school property to on-right onto Tabor Drive. Tabor leads to Scotts Valley Drive which took the Eagles back to the start and then on to Religion on Butler Lane.

Accuprick took the reins for Religion. Here is a sampling of the down-downs deemed deserved: Banana Basher as backslider, Fap Jack and My Little Bony learning the colloquial meaning of an upside-down pineapple; Cumz Out My Nose for falsely accusing Banana Basher of wearing new shoes; Pretty Fly For A Pi Guy as a backslider, Deadliest Snatch for celebrating her 169th hash with us; Shallow Hole as a backslider, Cum You Will Not and Shallow Hole whose dogs pooped on trail; dBASED for harassing Broken Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose’s neighbor and welcome back to Just Sara and Just Bryant. Oh, yeah, the hare-pair. No one had good things to say about them so let’s just move on. After dispensing with the hares, the RA declared, This hash is over. I hereby do the same for this Trash.

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. One should never allow the facts to stand in the way of a good story.

A Scribe’s sole purpose is to provide entertainment to their kennel mates. Whether or not they are successful in this endeavor is still a subject open to debate.

By Special Appointment of His Royal Majesty ‘G’, this Hash Trash has been compiled at Palm Springs, Ca. and printed at Santa Cruz, Ca. by permission of no one other than the author on this, the thirtieth day of March in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

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