Hash Twelve-Oh-8: Poison Oak,Cow Patties and Hills

Hot enough for ya?

The only thing that could make you hotter is remembering last Thursday’s trail of terror in the vast unknown of the boundless stretches of wasteland west of Empire Grade and north of Mima Meadow. Lulled into complacency by beginning this potentially deadly trail from West Remote on the UC campus was a ploy employed by the father-daughter hare-pair of TIMMY!! and Pink Cherry Licker. As is typical of Surf City, out innate half-mindedness took precedence over our better judgement and we were as lambs to the slaughter led by our Judas goat hares.

But enough of the highlights of this trail, let us shift into the more unsavory parts.

Standing in plain sight drinking in a parking lot on the UC campus was the mildest of crimes committed this evening. We were joined by a Virgin who stumbled across us on the Internet. He must have been on the website for the Santa Cruz Police Department. Jersey Lunchbox returned from one of his mysterious, frequent trips to places about which he will not be very specific. Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose returned to the pack after attending San Diego Red Dress and completing the requisite Community Service time hashers are required to perform after the Hash. Embarrassed by abandoning Junk Puncher in a dive bar last week, Occasional Rapist made dBASED leave Junk Puncher at home. In essence, a fairly typical prelube.

Wishing this fiasco to be finalized as soon as possible, the hares had promised to on-out ten minutes early. It didn’t happen. They did, however, leave slightly prior to the normal hares-away time. Even having left at the advertised time would not have helped this trail anyway though. Hares-away.

Father and daughter co-hares TIMMY!! and Pink Cherry Licker

The ensuing fifteen minutes were passed in the usual manner; no discussion of the trail to come. After the passage of that fifteen minute interlude, co-GM’s Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose called for Circelup for Introductions and heard from the following hounds: Cold Smegma Kamikzae, Rubik’s Pube, Jersey Lunchbox, Steamy Baanorrhea, Accuprick, Virgin John, dBASED, Cum You Will Not, Clearly Not A Hooker and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Just Boulder (illegally) attended for our sole canine companion. Pack out.

Trail proceeded west through the parking lot and on-left on Heller Drive and directly across Empire Grade. Here we were coerced to cross a fence like common burglars. Once into a cow patty covered field, much like a World War II mine field, trail proceeded a short distance along a cow path and our beloved BN symbol was observed. While that was a welcome sight, the back-check-6 at Beer Check was not overly enjoyed. Upon completing our task here, the back-six brought us to another fence designed to contain the cattle that we had to scale risking life and limb.

Once everyone clambered over and remained intact, an extended on-down was initiated. There’s little we dislike more than a huge on-down at the beginning because that will necessitate an on-up of an equal or larger height at the END of trail. Thanks, hares.

Eventually we came to the Liquor Check and the Turkey/Eagle split on the Red Mailbox Trail. It would be treasonous to avoid an extended visit to a Redwood forest, let’s fly with the Eagles. However, as we were soon to learn, Eagles would not FLY this evening, they would climb and sometimes as slowly as the locals, banana slugs. A monstrous hill on-right from Liquor Check awaited the Eagles. Worse yet, it continued for an extended period of time eventually flattening out. By this time though, we were deep in mountain bike territory and we were forced off trail a number of times to avoid careening bikers. Soon, but not soon enough, we emerged from the forest into a field and made an on-left.

Once across this field, we reentered the forest primeval and another serious on-down was presented to us. Soon the Eagles rejoined the Turkeys and continued on-down. We may have been on the Wally World Trail, maps are somewhat inconsistent and it also did not bother our hares to take us places we shouldn’t have been taken. Eventually we performed a hundred and eight degree turn followed by another on-down. This may have been the Long Meadow Trail and it eventually brought us to a small creek.

The second and final Turkey/Eagle split in the dark depths of the Redwood forest. The Eagles crossed a stream on those logs

Once across this stream, an on-right began a serious on-up which would bring us to the original field where we started albeit quite a distance away. Beer Check was repeated in it’s previous location and then an extended on-in was undertaken back to Point A. Once there, besides interrupting an astronomic session of a UC student camping in the field we chose for Religion, Accuprick fired up his machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued this evening: the Virgin was welcomed; Analversaries were celebrated; those sniffed and licked by Boulder were mocked and this gave rise to Boulder receiving his hash name: Scratch and Sniff. It seems Boulder adopted Junk Puncher’s tactic of easily identifying his kennel mates by the scent of their crotch area. Also, I would like to commit to our official collective memory an explanation of the analversary celebrated. This may have happened elsewhere but I would believe it to be a rare occurrence; a father/daughter co-hare analversary. This was TIMMY!!’s 69th haring and for his lovely daughter it was Pink Cherry Licker’s 75th outing as a hare. Let it so be recorded. Many of you are now thinking, What about the hares? Did they not receive a down-down for shitty trail? Yes, they did, I just wished to postpone our visit with them as long as possible. There were some compliments issued about touring a Redwood forest but I heard not a word about trail quality.(or the lack thereof)

We had already missed burger for on-on-on so Accuprick hastened to dismiss the pack and reassemble at Parish Publick House. I will now dismiss you from this Trash as well.

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. Do not allow the profound to be the enemy of the interesting.

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.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-Oh-8.

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 seventh day of September 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