Hash 12-HUNDRED Pub Crawl, y’all!


We all know this evening’s route so our hare, the esteemed Steamy Baanorrhea, will not be able to jerk us around. Well, not to any great extent anyway. It was deemed appropriate that our twelve-hundredth hash would be a pub crawl. We have crawled into, and occasionally OUT of, many a pub in our twenty-one-plus year life so it is only fitting to celebrate this occasion with another crawling.

The assembly process began, appropriately enough, at the Redroom, just downstairs from the former Sports Grille Santa Cruz, the birthplace of Surf City H3. The outdoor area was the preferred venue and it soon filled with hashers.

The hare has just handed out trivia questions and questions about sights seen on trail

Steamy Baanorrhea concocted a trivia game for trail and actually had a bottle of the hard stuff for the winner. The questionnaire consisted of trivia questions and of sights that would be seen along trail if you were attentive. After explaining the ground rules, Steamy laid a hare arrow and headed for stop number two.

Trail took us up Cedar Street and across Mission to the Rush Inn. Everyone’s heard the advertisement for this place: Rush Inn, Stagger Out! We took this admonishment to heart and extended our visit somewhat.

At the Rush Inn, Just Foot Pussy tells Oral Lickstation, I can get you one just like this!

Upon completion of our task here, marker made the merry members of this madness on-down Pacific to El Palomar. Upon seeing us, the beertender, Tim, said, ‘I recognize you trouble-makers, I’d appreciate it if you went to the Taco Bar and got out of my bar!’ Not wishing to be forcibly ejected from (another) bar, we complied with his request and ensconced ourselves in the Taco Bar. Some of us decided to partake of the food offerings while others decided alcohol was on the menu for dinner. What a surprise!

After concluding we’d be more appreciated if we went elsewhere, marker pointed us back to Pacific and on-up the really long set of stairs to Rosie McCann’s. The wheels began to come off the pack here. First, there was a woman distributing free hard stuff as a promotion. Not sure anyone of us will be purchasing said bevy but we made sure to boost her attendance by stealing as many shots as possible. Then, just as those that did not consume food at the Palomar sat down to dinner, one of the apparently frequent fights erupted. Some biker did not appreciate comments from a non-biker. We should have known this place was trouble as soon as we arrived; never drink in a bar that has SIX security personnel! Those of us not eating exited via the back steps rapidly while those with food huddled together for safety’s sake.

The fifth and final(authorized) stop on tonight’s Magical Mystery Tour was, and no surprise here, the Jury Room. We’ve all heard the history of this dive bar; cop hangout where they unwittingly told mass murderer Edmund Kemper what they were doing to apprehend him. This is also the home of the Giant Gopher drink. Try one, once! Succinctly, the failures of this old watering hole far outnumber their successes.

Two of our wiser attendees, Bacon Queef and Cum So Often, illustrate how smart they are and leave the Jury Room pronto

There are rumors of more stops and other venues for a number of the pack but, as this was the official end, I will put away the camera and pen. Even if further events were related, upon the advice of council, hashers would: Admit nothing, Deny everything, Make counter accusations.

And so ended Hash 12-hundred for Surf City. As per hare Steamy Baanorrhea: No animals were harmed in the concoction of this trail.

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 August in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,



Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Leave a Reply