Hash Twelve-69: It got us from behind


Under normal circumstances I would be happy as a pig-in-poop to be home from the Olde South having survived another high school reunion and upon returning home having won my first bout with COVID but considering my welcome home was a trip to The Over-the-Hill Gang Saloon followed by the pursuit of Steamy Baanorrhea I must say this was a less than stellar return to the world of Hashdom. While you may consider that a harsh condemnation of such a nice man as Steamy Baanorrhea but by the conclusion of this Trash you, too, may come to believe he is a wolf in sheep’s attire.

So, here we are(here we are) at the venerable Over-the-Hill Gang Saloon. While it has endured a number of ownership changes throughout it’s life, it seems the clientele has remained the same: inebriated! I could also mention loud and unruly but that seems redundant. The only hasher I saw sitting inside was Flours For Anal Bum. Worse yet, one of the men sitting at the bar actually knew her mortal moniker. Makes one wonder if she may be leading a dual identity, doesn’t it? She did soon join the clan in the outdoor drinkin’ area though.

Okay, we’ve all moved outside, it breezy and much cooler that the darkened interior. On the plus side, that saves the owners from ever having to clean the place. That may actually be a good thing for the patrons as well, one may truly not wish to see what the place really looks like anyway. We have been graced with our Founder’s presence, that being Banana Basher. His long-suffering wife, Bailas con Burros, is wise enough to not give him a hall pass very often. For the first time in quite a while, he served a useful purpose at a Hash; he cradled Bukkake while Clearly Not A Hooker ventured indoors to get a libation. Dog sitter. Finally an endeavor at which he can be at least partially successful. dBASED has returned from his tour of the Southwest, he even developed a slight drawl. Today Is Monday and The Arabian Goggler abandoned the FHAC-U and the Valley heat to enjoy a trip to the beach. We apologized to them for the fact Steamy Baanorrhea was the best we could do for a hare. After a week recuperation time, Just Piper joined us again from the other side of Monterey Bay and brought her little little doggie Taylor. I assume she is now aware of the need for protection while visiting the Surf City kennel. This sets the table for another feast-or-famine Surf City trail.

Steamy delivered his usual lackluster Instructions of Trail. He was somewhat vague on details. I do not know if that was due to the fact he was not happy with his trail or simply due to his sucking on his flask too deeply. That question will be answered along trail I assume. Hare away.

With only the slightest interruption, the pack returned to socializing. Bar tabs were settled, running and walking alliances were forged and tacos from the food truck next door were scarfed. At the appointed time, just arrived co-GM Broke Bench Mountain called for Circleup for Introductions which resulted in responding barks from: Banana Basher, Flours For Anal Bum, TIMMY!!, Pink Cherry Licker, dBASED, The Arabian Goggler, Today Is Monday, Clearly Not A Hooker, Cum, U Will Not!, Just Piper, Circle Gherkin’, Jersey Lunchbox, International House of Pussy and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. We had a canine contingency almost large enough to form it’s own pack: Spot’d Dick, Junk Puncher, Bukkake, Scratch and Sniff and Taylor. Pack out.

Trail took the troops on-right from the Saloon to 38th Avenue where a whichy-way wanted us to on-left all the way to a check at the railroad tracks. Yes, of course, it was on-left onto the railroad tracks. This lasted until 30th Avenue where a grouping of conflicting markings frustrated the FRBs. More on this fiasco during Religion. Eventually on-left proved correct and at Portola Drive an on-left was mandated one short half-block followed by an on-right to continue on 30th. This continued until an on-right onto the Moran Lake Trail, Moron Lake in Hash parlance. It was along here, now in full-on darkness, Liquor Check was staged.

Liquor Check in the crotch of a fallen tree, JD and friends

This trail was taken to East Cliff Drive where we were directed on-left and just past the lake it was on-left again on a path that took us around the lake and then back to East Cliff Drive. At Rockview Drive we were pointed on-right and then on-left onto a locals-only path. But instead of going to the cliff as usual, we jumped a set of stairs and went through half a dozen yards past numerous groups of people enjoying themselves. That happiness did NOT extend to us though. Eventually we came to another set of stairs that took us across Pleasure Point Drive back to East Cliff Drive and an-on-right there. This scenic jaunt lasted until 36th Avenue where the pod was pointed on-left. This took us all the way to Beer Check/Religion behind the Cat and Cloud on Portola. After the Walkers walked in, Pink Cherry Licker assembled her Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of those that visited with her this night.

Those that followed and old trail were mocked; Jersey Lunchbox chastised for laying a hare arrow; those that missed Liquor Check were mocked; backsliders were punished; Analversaries were recognized and those that did not have enough of a half-mind to bring a torch were punished. On-on-on was…sorry. The hare. Steamy Baanorrhea was thanked for volunteering to lay this trail only last week. No mention of trail quality was made though. On-on-on was at Taqueria Vallarta on 41st Avenue. This Hash is over.

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 entertainment to their kennel mates. 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 that I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-69.

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 tenth day of October in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,



Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

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