Circling the drain,
A brief but accurate synopsis of Hash Twelve-27. To carry the circling of the drain one gurgle farther, the flushing of hare TIMMY!! should be of the highest priority. Elucidation to follow.
We began this particular fiasco from Mission West/Ye Olde Watering Hole/Paul’s Place, all depending on your longevity in the area. Or your ability to drink and remember. As those of you that have darkened the door of this den of iniquity of late, you are cognizant ownership has changed. The result thereof is a fresh coat of paint after banning smoking, refurbishing the restroom and acquiring some exquisite pictures of the bygone days of Santa Cruz. Improvement? Well, yeah, but merely a facade. The same creepy creeps and dirty denizens inhabit the bar stools as they did prior to the makeover. If you believe you see a pattern beginning to develop prognosticating the direction this trail is going to take, consider yourself perceptive.
After ingesting a sufficient quantity(but not QUALITY) of alcoholic lubricant, TIMMY!! stood, with only a slight wobble, and delivered Instructions of Trail. Reputedly, Turkey was 3 miles and Eagle around 1 mile more. Lies!
As much attention was given to them as the hare exhibited in delivering them. This is code for zilch-point-shit! Hare out.
The next 15 minutes were consumed with consuming and wondering why so many of our usual kennel mates had opted to skip this trail. This was the first day without water falling upon our little heads in a week or so, why would so many not avail themselves of this opportunity? The consensus arrived at is that many hounds fear at the least and loathe at most a TIMMY!! trail. Personally, I fall somewhere in between as I do not wish to dedicate that much energy on TIMMY!! OR one of his accursed trails. Time did pass though and bar tabs were cleared followed by the mini-pack clearing out of the bar. We passed one of the ubiquitous taco trucks on our way to the parking lot, some of us wishing we had visited previously. Once assembled in the parking lot, co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain requested those present to announce their names. Here is what they heard in response to their request: Flours For Anal Bum, Steamy Baanorrhea, Pink Cherry Licker, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, dBASED, Cum You Will Not and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Somewhere along trail we traded Pink Cherry Licker for Courtesy Flush. Intriguing exchange I dare say. Our canine contingency was at full strength; Scratch and Sniff, Junk Puncher and Spot’d Dick. (Small) Pack away.
An arrow at McPherson Street pointed the pod on-right to a check at Swift Street. Thus began a series of miscalculations. Crossing to Mission Street would have garnered you false trail markings though it took dBASED and Steamy Baanorrhea a while to ascertain such. Towards the Bay on Swift yielded nada. The remaining exit, that of crossing Mission Street proved correct. Once across Mission, it was on-up Grandview Street. Grandview curves on-left and a few blocks later the back check mark was observed. This took the troops on-back to the locals-only dirt path into Arroyo Seco Canyon. Mercifully, a hundred yards in, an even smaller and darker locals-only path veers off on-right to terminate at Escalona Drive. We plodded along Escalona for a really…long…way. All the way to Laurel Street as a matter of fact where we went on-right and were then coerced into undertaking the dangerous crossing of California Highway 1. Even with a pedestrian light this is a precarious position. We were successful though.
Down Laurel we ventured and then it was on-right onto California Street. Once to Bay Street we cut a jig across and on-right on Bay but only until the Rail Trail where it was on-left. Now that we’re approaching the Circles, a compass will spin as will my head. The following is an approximation as to where we were dragged. Bellevue Street was utilized on-left which morphs into Walk Circle. At California Avenue, we crossed and pulled into Santa Cruz Market for a Gorilla Beer Check courtesy of Courtesy.
Trail continued on Walk Circle until a back check sent the troops traipsing on-back to a narrow, dark locals-only bumpy pathway between homes that led the litter to Wilkes Circle where a solved check pointed the pack on-left. At Pendegast Avenue, marker made us turn on-left. A quick jig at Surfside Avenue and we remained partaking of Pendegast. Pendegast brings one to Garfield Park where, on the southwest corner on Almar Avenue, the hare was finally found swilling away.
Having reached the level of abject desolation, it was quickly decided by unanimous decision that Religion would be staged here rather than migrating back to the normal location beside the tracks on Swift Street. Pink Cherry Licker, having bailed; Dung-Fu Grip, a no-show and Accuprick MIA, poor old dBASED was saddled with playing Religious Adviser. Well, at least it would be quick with only a single-digit number of hounds here. This is what passed for Religion on this night: Courtesy Flush punished as a backslider and Steamy Baanorrhea celebrated his 250th hash with us. Yes, only TWO down-downs! Oh, wait. That damned hare. TIMMY! was thanked for the nice park setting for Beer Check but nothing else. After the hares’ punishment down-down, the RA dismissed the pack. We reconvened at Upper Crust Pizza next to the start for on-on-on and a well-deserved face feed.
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 become the enemy of the interesting.
A Scribe’s sole purpose is to provide their kennel mates with entertainment. Whether or not they are successful in this endeavor remains 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-27.
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 fifteenth day of January in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.
Submitted with all respect due,
Puff
the
Magic Drag Queen
Surf City H3 Scribe