Hash 1158-Circlejerk Paradise

Salutations,

       But no salvation…from Ho to Housewife, Princess Di(arrhea) and Thmp-Thmp and their convoluted conception of trail-laying.

       We (foolishly) allowed ourselves to be lulled into a sense of complacency by clustering at old favorite The Crepe Place. AKA the creepy place in Hash parlance. It’s rather dark and the front room has had a stage added for live music performances. Diners are immediately ushered into the back room or the outdoor dining area in an effort to minimize their interaction with hashers. While management seems happy with our burgeoning bar bill, they do not wish to alienate the mortals that come here to sup.

       For the most part, we ignored anyone other than our own and busied ourselves with socializing or watching the Giants-Dodgers baseball game.

My Little Bony and Cumz Out My Nose are glued to the baseball game, Broke Bench Mountain feeds his face

My Little Bony listens as Ho to Housewife and Thmp-Thmp deliver Instructions of Trail. I believe our third hare, Princess Di(arrhea) has already sneaked out to pre-lay

After the passage of sufficient time, co-hares Ho to Housewife and Thmp-Thmp delivered their usual useless version of Instructions of Trail. Not that it matters anyway though, they were as usual universally ignored.

Circleup for Introductions: dBASED, Wicked Retahted, Broke Bench Mountain, TIMMY!!, Cumz Out My Nose

After everyone finished their drink, a call for Circleup for Introductions was issued and responding barks were heard from the following hounds: Dung-fu Grip, Occasional Rapist, Wicked Retahted, Steamy Baanorrhea, dBASED, Snake Me Anywhere, TIMMY!!, Dicky Wacker, Broke Bench Mountain, Cumz Out My Nose, Leaky Rubber, Hugh Heifer, My Little Bony, Cum You Will Not, Testacoil, Bestiality Interruptus, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Pink Cherry Licker, Baker’s Dozen’t, Courtesy Flush and Puff the Magic Drag Queen.

The first check, upon which we had circled, proved problematic. Hounds headed towards Seabright, across Soquel Avenue and toward Cayuga as well. Marker was found towards and beyond Cayuga eventually. A back check mark at Pennsylvania made the clan reverse course. Broke Bench Mountain crossed Soquel in search of marker or at the very least, a quick shot at One-Double-Oh-Seven Club. Cold Smegma Kamikaze and Puff found flour between an office and an apartment building and followed it down a driveway and then on-right to Pennsylvania. Our first circle-jerk of the evening and it portended of things to come.

Sadly for them, Kamikaze and Puff did not see the on-right off Pennsylvania and went to Broadway before deciding they’d missed something. This is the last we’ll see of these two losers until Liquor Check. Good-bye….

More observant hounds saw flour on-right off Pennsylvania and went down a driveway and through a business parking lot and we circle-jerked back to Soquel within sight of where we started. Here we were directed to on-left along Soquel and use the crosswalk over to the defunct Tony & Alba’s Pizza. Hounds farther back were able to risk life and limb if they were so inclined and shortcut across Soquel. Many did and, luckily, all survived. Once safely across, we traversed the Whole Foods parking lot to North Branciforte Avenue and executed and on-right and began a long, boring stretch of macadam. A check at Water Street was soon solved and the litter pranced across Water and continued along North Branciforte. Prepare yourself, evil is headed your way.

Marker made members on-left onto Berkeley Way and this was soon followed by an on-right onto Berkeley Court. (Court being a place these hares should be taken) The locals have wisely blocked the roadway from Berkeley Court to Dahlia Street allowing only pedestrians ingress and egress. When Dahlia intersects with Linden Street, an on-left onto Linden was indicated. At the next intersection, that with Rose Street, the pack was turned on-right, back to North Branciforte and on-left just as we had prior to this very long circle-jerk. Thanks, hares.

North Branciforte was traversed until Keystone Avenue where we were pointed on-right followed by an on-left onto Poplar Avenue which quickly gave to an on-right onto Parnell Street. One block later we were directed on-right onto Harrison Avenue and to Melrose Avenue and on-left. When Melrose collides with Morrissey Boulevard, a sorry sight was seen: Courtesy Flush splay-legged on the sidewalk, much as would a common wino, being mimicked by Testacoil’s faithful canine companion Rex. Between gulps of air, Courtesy Flush exclaimed he’s was waiting on Testacoil to arrive with transportation for Rex who had developed bleeding paws on trail. Where was Bestiality Interruptus when you needed him? Drinking somewhere no doubt. When Testacoil arrived, Rex was gingerly placed in the makeshift ambulance and the now-recovered Courtesy Flush took off in pursuit of the pack.     

Courtesy Flush and Rex driving down property values

Melrose was utilized until San Juan Avenue where an on-right was made which brought us back to Soquel Avenue, the street on which this fiasco began oh-so-long-ago. Soquel was used until Mentel Avenue where we were directed on-right. Smelling Arana Gulch in our near future, the pack powered to the entrance where we encountered co-hare Princess Di(arrhea) resting on her haunches and sipping Cinnamon Fireball Whiskey. We joined her.

Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Broke Bench Mountain and Snake Me Anywhere reluctantly accept Cinnamon Fireball Whiskey from co-hare Princess Di(arrhea)
 

Trail proceeded through Arana Gulch and then left on Fredrick Street to desecrate the grounds of Star of the Sea Catholic Church. We exited out the rear, so to speak, and onto Effey Street. Effey was abused until Hanover Street where the pod was pointed on-right. Hanover ends at Gault Street where we went directly across to invade the home of Bacon Queef and Just Foot Pussy. 

Beer Check invaded the home of Bacon Queef and Just Foot Pussy

After our business was concluded here, we sauntered one block to the parking lot behind Lillian’s Italian Kitchen to stage Religion. Here’s a sampling of the down-downs awarded by RA dBASED: Snake Me Anywhere, Dung-fu Grip and Hand Over Piss as backsliders; dBASED for a false accusation against Leaky Rubber, dBASED for successfully, more or less, completing 25 consecutive hashes with us; Dicky Wacker for saying the only reason he fell on trail this week is because someone pushed him from behind; Bestiality Interruptus as a backslider. And that’s about it. Oh, sorry, I forgot the damn hares.

Co-hares Ho to Housewife, Thmp-Thmp and Princess Di(arrhea) are justifiably punised

 After the hated hares were roasted, the RA adjourned the pack and many retired to Taqueria Santa Cruz II, conveniently located directly across the street from the One-Double-Oh-Seven Club for some sustenance, be it solid or liquid.

That ends Trail 1158 and this Trash as well.

This 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.

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 eighteenth days of October in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe Surf City H3 

Hash 1157-Cloverleaf confusion

Over, under and around our third bridge of trail

Yet again,

       Those that forget history are doomed to repeat it. While an old and tired cliche, it rings true for the Surf City kennel this day. Yes, in a replay of last week’s getting clubbed at a golf course, we repeated the same error by allowing dBASED, Occasional Rapist and Cum You Will Not to lead the litter in a bridge-to-nowhere trail tromping.

Beginning from one of the few remaining true dive bars in town, The Asti, colloquially called the Nasty Asti, should have raised the proverbial red flag, we ignored what our brain was warning us of and allowed ourselves to be spirited away to this den of iniquity. In an effort to try and fool ourselves we were not at the Asti, the crew assembled in the outdoor drinkin’ area.

Stay outside, ignore you are at The Asti

This ploy was minimally successful, especially after ingesting a couple of drinks. We were even able to convince ourselves dBASED’s newly introduced mark, that of treating a circle-jerk as a back check(whatever the hell THAT means) would be a fun and welcome addition to our already-confusing set of trail markings.

dBASED informs us circle-jerks are now the same as back-checks

However, ignore it as we tried, zero hour arrived, introductions were made and the merry members of this madness motored forth.

A check at the first intersection, Pacific Avenue and Laurel Street, sent Steamy Baanorrhea farther along Pacific but soon to return. On-on was given across Pacific on Laurel and towards the river. A check at Front Street was solved and coerced the clan into crossing Front and traipsing towards the river. Now things began to get mildly convoluted if not downright kinky. Trail turned the troops on-right onto the river levee walkway but then made an immediate on-left and under the bridge. Once out from under the darkened bridge under-crossing, marker had hounds turn on-left and back to the same bridge we’d just been forced under and directly across the street from where we stood two minutes prior. While you may consider this an efficient use of territory, many felt this was a supreme exhibition of lazy-ass hares.

We then proceeded to take the bridge to the other side but as soon as the crossing was completed an on-left was indicated pointing the pod back onto the river levee walkway and then another immediate on-left and under the bridge to emerge pointed towards the Boardwalk. The cloverleaf confusion made a few hounds dizzy. I mean that literally, not figuratively.  We ambled along the levee to Riverside Avenue where we crossed under the Riverside bridge and, needless to say, turned on-left and back up to the bridge where we were directed to cross the street and on-left onto the bridge to cross the river once again. Once back on solid ground, an on-left put us on the other side of Riverside where, and you can probably see this one coming, on-left and on-under yet another bridge and back onto the river levee walkway again. I did not know the walkway was this damn long.
 

The third(and hopefully final) bridge under-crossing

Now we began the torturous on-up of Beach Hill via Third Street. We’ve spent so much time under bridges this evening, the street lights were almost blinding. Once atop the crest, trail proceeded to make an on-left onto Main Street and past the abode of Dicky Wacker who wisely chose not to join us on this fiasco. Someone blew their whistle as we passed his place and we saw all the lights go off in a flagrant attempt to convince us he was not home. We continued on, we’ve always wished to ignore Dicky Wacker anyway.

Once we reached Second Street, we were directed on-right all the way to Pacific Avenue where this folly began oh-so-long ago. A slight on-left was performed here and then on-up the steps to West Cliff Drive and across the Howe truss bridge(another damn bridge) and then on-left onto Beach Street. As we neared Pacific Avenue(again) we were directed on-left into a parking lot and, but of course, under the bridge we just crossed and into Depot Park.

This was NOT a ‘walk in the park’ though. Once through the park and (again) back to Pacific Avenue, we turned on-left onto Center Street and, mercifully, on-left again prior to passing the police station. It was then across a field and the tracks and onto Jenne Street. Here was the highlight of this trail.

These are, and make no bones about it, Jenne Street night watchmen
 

Once past the set of tall Hallowe’en decorations, an on-right on Blackburn yielded to on-left onto Neary followed by an on-right onto Felix which brought us to the Turkey/Eagle split at Laurel. Very few wished to deal with the Laurel Street hill so an on-right was made onto Laurel. A few blocks later, an arrow pointed the pod on-left onto Myrtle Street and, even more welcome, was the fact this was soon followed by the BN mark. So, beside the Santa Cruz High athletic field which was still hosting an event, the hares hosted Beer Check. 

Pay no attention to the mortals at the high school, stage Beer Check anyway

After the straggling Eagle hare dBASED arrived followed by the few Eagle hounds, the pack adjourned to the abandoned section of Laurel Street Extension behind Wheel Works/Tires Plus to convene Religion.

Religion begins to take shape

Here’s a sampling of the down-downs awarded by Religious Adviser dBASED: TIMMY!! for not doing trail, Pretty Fly for a Pi Guy, Cuntjungle, Ho to Housewife and Chippin’ Ballz as backsliders, Baker’s Dozen’t for attempting to explain his thoughts on what comprises a circle-jerk, Rubik’s Pube for water abuse and Hugh Heifer for returning to the scene of her very first Hash, that being The Asti. Oh, yeah. The accursed hares. They were sternly told there was to be no ‘three-peat’ for haring.

Co-hares Occasional Rapist, Cum You Will Not and dBASED stand convicted of crimes against the pack

After the dismissal of the pack, a number traipsed up Front Street to Woodstock’s Pizza for on-on-on. I have it on good authority TIMMY!! and Six of Nine opted for Abbott Square instead.

That concluded Trail 1157 and this Trash as well.

This 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.

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 fourteenth day of October in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3


Hash 1156-Getting clubbed at Seascape Golf Course

Salutations,

       Many of us (foolishly) assumed a visit to Seascape Golf Course Clubhouse would be a pleasant experience. We have not visited here in quite a while and previous times here have been enjoyable. What I failed to take into consideration is our hare-trio(in itself a red flag) consisted of Cum You Will Not(and I assure you no one did), dBASED(nothing need be said about THIS joker!) and his (second) wife Occasional Rapist. So, in all actuality, we were doomed to failure even before on-out.

       Let’s ignore the fact we already know this will be an unpleasant evening and move along posthaste.

The first indication things were destined to go awry was the card authorization reader at the bar was non-functioning. Now while this proved monetarily beneficial to some hashers….Deer Bitch….those few of us carrying coin of the realm were milked of every penny possible to compensate for kennel mates that CLAIMED they carried no coin. The party soon migrated to the deck where a number of golfers were ensconced on what is colloquially referred to as ‘the nineteenth hole’. They appeared somewhat wary of us and we were mostly dismissive of them

Pre-lube on the deck

 

       With both GM’s in absentia, Accuprick called for Circleup for Introductions and the pack then on-outed to Clubhouse Drive where an on-right was indicated. Clubhouse was utilized until a solved check turned the troops on-left onto Pinehurst Drive. Marker soon made us on-left onto Rio Del Mar Elementary School grounds, a well-known no-no, which of course means nothing to our e-vile hares. Having transgressed here before, we were certain we would cross the playground and again challenge the hill-from-hell that provides the backdrop to all the surrounding area. And we did. And there was no rejoicing.

Eventually we crested the crest and beheld the land laid low below us all the way to Santa Cruz.

The high point, so to speak, of Trail 1156

We puttered along the ridgeline for a while before descending on-down to Dolphin Drive and executing an on-right. Pebble Beach Drive presented the threatened Turkey/Eagle split. Cold Smegma Kamikaze and visitor Deer Bitch either missed said split or are foolish enough to try it. Let’s fly with the Eagles and see what horrors befall them.

Trail became a dark and dreary grouping of on-lefts and on-rights. The Eagles came back to Clubhouse Drive and (incorrectly) thought they were close to Beer Check. This soon proved to be a false belief. An on-left onto Clubhouse was abruptly followed by an on-right onto the short link of Baltusrol Way and an immediate on-right on Baltusrol Drive. 

Baltusrol Drive wiggles it’s way to St. Andrews Drive where an on-right was indicated which soon brought the pod back to Clubhouse Drive. Here an on-left was made. If you walked on the roadside, you followed Eagle trail. If you crossed Clubhouse to the safety of the sidewalk, within a few blocks you would be hashing the on-out trail in reverse. This is a ploy that can be carried-off in the darkness and leave it to dBASED to employ all manner of chicanery available.  

Just prior to reaching Point A, the BN sign was observed and the pack reassembled for Beer Check.

Beer Check on someone’s private property

After libations were dispensed with, the mob migrated back to the start and Religion was convened. Religious Adviser Accuprick awarded the following down-downs: Deer Bitch as a visitor, one to himself as a short-cutting bastard, Six of Nine for only being able to show snout for Religion, Dicky Wacker for completing a trail WITHOUT falling. Oh, yeah, the accursed hare-trio were roundly cursed as well.

Hare-trio dBASED, Occasional Rapist, Cum You Will Not

The RA called an end to Hash 1156 and dismissed the pack. Many members of this merry madness reconvened at Parish Publick House in Aptos to party well into the night.

That did it for this Hash and that does it for 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.

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 fifth day of October in the year of our Hash two thousand twenty-one.

On-out,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe Surf City H3

Hash 1155- Capitola and hares be damned

September salutations,

      And September is soon to be history and forgotten. Hopefully, Trail 1155 will join September in the ranks of the forgotten, consigned to the scrap heap, a distant nightmare.

       While it is still fresh in our memory, let’s make a record of it’s misdeeds and missteps in the hope they will never be repeated.

       A last minute change of venue never bodes well. This was due, according to Rumor Control, by a employee-owner dispute at the original location. Also rumored was that wait staff refused to deal with hashers but the owner wanted the money. Admittedly, that latter part is sheer conjecture on my part but that does not mean it’s incorrect.

       So, on to the new venue and it’s minuscule outdoor drinkin’ arena.

The drinkin’ area at Sand Bar

If everyone in the club was the size of Banana Basher, His Bulkiness, we would not have been able to get everyone outdoors. Well, maybe we could have but the balcony would surely have collapsed under our combined weight.

We had one visitor, Keys To Your Anus, invading our little burg from Las Vegas. (How could she even have FOUND Santa Cruz?)

Keys To Your Anus
Las Vegas H3


We also had a new addition, Leaky Rubber. I didn’t ask if that was the nickname his Mother gave him.

Leaky Rubber
Motown transplant

After co-hares Pink Cherry Licker, Princess Di(arrhea) and Thmp-Thmp vanished into the Capitola fog, co-GM Baker’s Dozen’t called for Circleup for Introductions and answering yips were heard from: Dicky Wacker, TIMMY!!, Banana Basher, Wicked Retahted, Testacoil, Broke Bench Mountain, Cumz Out My Nose, Steamy Baanorrhea, Occasional Rapist, Keys To Your Anus, Leaky Rubber, Cum You Will Not, dBASED and Puff the Magic Drag Queen.

Trail began pleasantly enough with a jaunt along the Esplanade followed by an on-right off Monterey to the long staircase leading on-up to Depot Hill. Only the FRB’s were screwed by this as it proved false and trail returned to Monterey Avenue. However, 100 feet further and we were motivated to take an on-right onto a locals-only path that took the troops right back atop Depot Hill. Very crafty. Rude, but crafty nonetheless. We then went on Fairview Avenue to Central Avenue which brought us back to Monterey Avenue. We’ve now traversed half a mile and are still within sight of where we started. Is our hare-trio, crafty, devious or just lazy bastards? You make the call.

A check was solved here leading the litter onto the railroad tracks and proceeding towards the trestle towering over Soquel Creek. Just prior to the trestle, marker pointed the pod down a dirt embankment and into the parking lot behind the Capitola Police Department. This must be some kind of a joke! Sending the hounds to the local Hound Pound?!? Joke maybe but not very damn funny. We denizens scurried across Capitola Avenue, onto Riverview Drive and soon on-left onto Riverview Avenue. (Not especially inventive with their street names around here, are they?)

Not far along Riverview Avenue, a locals-only path on-right presented itself which leads to Soquel Creek Park Footpath which ends at Stockton Street where an on-right was indicated taking us across Soquel Creek to Soquel Creek Park where the LC sign was beheld. Once in this narrow, dark park we encountered members of the hare contingency issuing urine-sample-sized cups with an obnoxious liquid contained within.

dBASED imbibes, Steamy Baanorrhea reels

  Pulling away from the park, trail took a turn on-up Wharf Road to Capitola Road and on-right onto 49th Avenue. This brought up back to Wharf Road. Circlejerks seem to be a recurring theme on this trail. We soon turned on-left onto Grace Street, on-left onto 46th Avenue and then violated private property by slithering through a large apartment complex and eventually emerging back into civilization. Eventually we wound our way back to Capitola Road and crossed over onto 45th Avenue which was utilized all the way to Jade Street Park. We crossed the entire width of the park and arrived at the railroad tracks where Beer Check was convened.

Beer Check in Jade Street Park

 
We would now traipse along the railroad tracks to a secluded area near the trestle for Religion. This would clock the pack in at around 2.5 miles…except for the poor bastards that fell for the numerous falses, back checks and circlejerks.

Religious Adviser dBASED issued the following down-downs: Testacoil as a backslider, visitors were recognized and welcomed, Broke Bench Mountain celebrated his 425th hash with us and, of course, the hare-trio was roundly criticized.

Hare-trio Pink Cherry Licker, Thmp-Thmp and Princess Di(arrhea)

It was determined this was just about enough half-mindedness for one week and the RA dismissed the pack. That just about does it for this Hash Trash as well.

The precedding 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.

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 thirtieth day of September, in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe Surf City H3

Obscene in Nisene

Salutations,

       And I extend deepest sympathies to those of you that were suckered into attending Hash 1154 believing it was an anniversary of Occasional Rapist and dBASED’s M-Word Hash. It was, in actuality, another thinly-veiled attempt on the part of this dastardly duo to strike terror and desperation into the hearts of Surf City hashers.

Sadly, they were successful in their efforts.

These miscreants baited the hook by assigning The Mediterranean in Seacliff, an old favorite of ours, as the start for their next act of treachery. Then, to insure maximum damage, our hare-pair delayed their on-out time until 6:45 thereby insuring as many unsuspecting hounds as possible would be snared in their devious plot. So, sometime around 7PM, RA Accuprick called for Circleup for Introductions. Answering barks were heard from: Cum You Will Not, Steamy Baanorrhea, Wicked Retahted, Cumz Out My Nose, TIMMY!!, Broke Bench Mountain, Fine Young Cannibal, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Dicky Wacker, Princess Di(arrhea), Thmp-Thmp, Rubik’s Pube, Bareback Unicrack and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Off we went.  


False markings north on Broadway sent the clan careening south and peeling off into the parking lot for Seacliff State Beach. Continuing in that direction, one and all knew we were bound for the infamous steps leading on-down to the beach. They are, mercifully, far more bearable in THIS direction than in the on-up direction at least.

Dicky Wacker negotiates the one-hundred fifty-one steps on-down to Seacliff State Beach

Once safely on-down, arrows pointed the pod towards the sand. Very few, probably only notorious masochist Steamy Baanorrhea, followed them. Those of us more sensible paralled trail through the parking lot and rejoined true trail at the pedestrian bridge over what we euphemistically refer to as Aptos Creek but is little more than a stinky lagoon as this time of the year.

Aptos Creek(AKA Stinky Lagoon)

A check was discovered near the bathrooms at the foot of the steep Rio Del Mar Boulevard hill. Here masochistic Steamy Baanorrhea (foolishly) volunteered to on-up being of the mind cruel dBASED would undoubtedly take the troops there. He was wrong. 

After all other avenues of escape were mapped, trail was discovered on-left through the Rio Del Mar flats, past the sad remains of the Sea Breeze Tavern and on-right onto Moosehead Drive.

Steamy Baanorrhea and Fine Young Cannibal negotiate Moosehead Drive

Dreary Moosehead Drive was traversed to Spreckles Drive, under Highway 1 and to the junction with Soquel Drive. All-in-all, a dreary, featureless section of a dreary, featureless trail. A check was solved here pointing the pod on-right and then on-left onto Aptos Creek Road. Surely this will prove to be a backcheck, no one could possibly expect the pack to survive even the slightest of excursions into the Forest Of Nisene Marks in the dark. Just past the railroad tracks, a small group of deer were seen. Everyone knows where there’s deer, there’s puma. No concern to the hares though apparently, THEY were through here with the sun shining. On we plodded.

I will not detail greatly the treacherous trip through the forest. Not that I do not believe it worth chronicling, it’s just that it was so damn dark I could not see anything. I do remember Broke Bench Mountain giving a dissertation of the mechanical attributes of the old car lying upside down just prior to crossing Aptos Creek. Whether he truly cared or was just trying to take his mind off the potential of meeting a mountain lion, I do not know. While Aptos Creek is frightfully low, even for this time of the year, that did not stop many of us from coming away with dripping rear paws. While we have bridged this spot many times in the past, darkness lends  sinister shadows to the rocks used as stepping stones.  

After wading the creek, we connected with Aptos Rancho Trail and eventually stumbled onto, appropriately enough, Aptos Rancho Road. This brought us back to Soquel Drive. Smelling victory, the gang plunged ahead and made an on-left onto State Park Drive and crossed over Highway 1 and was soon to discover the promised Turkey-Eagle split at Hillcrest Drive. Only a few mildly insane souls, such as Steamy Baanorrhea, would engage the Eagle option. They would trot along Hillcrest to Beachgate Way and on-left and use the treacherous on-down dirt trail back down to the beach. They would then on-left onto Las Olas Drive, then State Park Drive, on-right onto Center Street and on-left onto Broadway where they would find both the Turkeys as well as Beer Check awaiting them. The Turkeys had made an on-left at the Turkey-Eagle split and moseyed along the railroad tracks and made an on-right and on-down off the tracks, almost stumbling over a person sleeping, and into Beer Check. An episode at Beer Check provided the most exciting and interesting section of this entire trail.

 


Junk Puncher engages felis catus

Above we see Junk Puncher interacting with a resident feline. I will not say Junk Puncher lost this engagement as the cat eventually moved on, but I WILL say I witnessed the cat chasing Junk Puncher more than once. King Pussy Rules!!

Eventually all hounds reassembled and the herd migrated to Santa Cruz Avenue to stage Religion. Once libations were dispensed, Religious Adviser Accuprick issued the following down-downs: Cum You Will Not for celebrating her 225th hash with us; Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Cum You Will Not and Bareback Unicrack for getting lost on trail; Dicky Wacker for falling on trail(as usual); Accuprick for relating a politically incorrect joke and Bareback Unicrack as a backslider. Saved for last, as that’s where we like them, were the hares.




Co-hares Occasional Rapist and dBASED were justifiably punished

On-on-on was just barely made before closing at Manuel’s Restaurant. That pretty much closed down Trail 1154 and that pretty much closes down this Hash Trash as well.

The preceding is 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.


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 twenty-first day of September in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

On-out,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3


Trail 1153: Witches into bitches!

Salutations,

       Most hashers, I admit myself included, looked forward to returning to Bruno’s in Scotts Valley. It’s an excellent venue, so fine in fact, that it will be the site of AGM in November. Hopefully, by then all that attended this trail will have forgotten the horror that ensued.

       While the indoor area is closed,(thanks, COVID!) the outdoor deck was more than sufficient to contain the clan.


Remarkably, hare trio Wines Like A Bitch, Just Ash and Rainbow Butthole outed on time. This compensated somewhat for the vague Instructions of Trail from Rainbow. There were a lot of ‘Trail is short and fun’ and ‘There’s plenty of good scenery’ and other such promises made. I took note of the fact not a damn one came to pass.


Trail began correctly enough with a check. However, in an echo of last week’s bizarre beginning, a false was soon encountered returning the gang to the start. Another avenue of escape was found and this one took the troops past the movie theater(which serves beer inside), through the bus station and on-right onto Bluebonnet Lane. When Bluebonnet ended we were directed on-right onto Bean Creek Road. This would appear to be the logical direction as we began our circling of town to eventually return to Point A. Sadly, this was the last ‘logical’ tact employed by our hares.

The length of Bean Creek was traversed until a check at Scotts Valley Drive was observed. Remember this intersection, 20/20 hindsight informs you that you will view it again just from a different angle. Trail proceeded across Scotts Valley Drive and on-right to Mount Hermon Road. Once there, we were directed to cross and on-left heading out of town. Hmmm…this does not bode well, I fear chicanery afoot. A check at Glen Canyon Road was solved and instructed the gang to cross back over Mount Hermon Road and toddle along Glen Canyon. A quarter of a mile up Glen Canyon, Liquor Check was discovered.


While this was a welcome sight, our exit strategy is unclear. We cannot continue farther unless the hares intend to lay a Death March. Just past Liquor Check, marking put the pack in reverse to try out the opposite side of Glen Canyon in a reversal of trail. As the FRB’s and mid-packers reached Oak Creek Boulevard, two items of interest occurred; trail turned on-right and on-up the huge hill of Oak Creek and the Walkers came into view. Upon seeing the front of the pack, the Walkers completely skirted Liquor Check. This proved beneficial to them, the last thing they needed was to hit Liquor Check and then attempt the Oak Creek hill. Once the Oak Creek hill was crested, and that was no easy feat either I dare say, we traveled until intersecting with Quien Sabe Road. No, that’s NOT a typo, that’s what the damn road is called. I assume that’s a person’s name, probably the poor devil evicted from the land when the Europeans arrived. Be that as it may, it was the reverse of the Oak Creek hill. We downhilled at an exceptional rate of speed and arrived back at Scotts Valley Drive and made an on-right.

Well, at least SOME hounds made an on-right. Those members of the herd lucky enough to be a ways back found a ‘correction’, courtesy of dBASED, informing them such was a circle jerk and to instead make an on-left onto Scotts Valley Drive. Trail soon returned to the intersection of Scotts Valley Drive and Bean Creek Road. It was like deja vu all over again. Trail crossed Bean Creek and trespassed through some private property back to Mount Hermon. Here and on-right was indicated and soon trail turned on-right and into Beer Check in an alley behind Safeway. Here a sad sight was seen.


So, we held Beer Check with all the fixings ‘cept for beer! Admittedly, this was soon corrected by the hares whom, after the COVID intermission, thought Beer Check beer was provided by the Beermeister. Once things were copacetic, Religious Adviser Accuprick convened Religion. The following transpired during such with appropriate down-downs being dispensed: dBASED for directing much of the pack to shortcut; Cold Smegma Kamikaze for not bringing the black cat with him from Liquor Check; Just Ash celebrated her first haring(hideous though it was); Cumz Out My Nose celebrated her 350th hash with us; Dicky Wacker was mocked for wearing a convict outfit thinking this was our Hallowe’en Hash(!); the hares were spanked(though Wines appeared to enjoy such) for not bringing beer to Beer Check; Moose Turd Pie for his backsliding ways; Princess Di(arrhea) completed her 400th hash with us; The Human Pube for only seeing fit to join us for Religion; Baker’s Dozen’t for promising us a new song and then forgetting the damn thing. Now, the highlight of the evening, which was the naming of Just Ash. She has been hashing with us for over a year but refused to hare. Finally, Rainbow and Wines gave her an ultimatum: Hare or face excommunication! This hollow threat was sufficient and Ash relented. Admittedly, her first effort was not noteworthy but we’ll lay that on the doorstep of experienced hares Rainbow and Wines.


A meeting of the half-minds to name Just Ash

After much deliberation (and drinkin’) Just Ash morphed into Driponya. After that matter was disposed of, hare trio Rainbow Butthole, Wines Like A Bitch and (the now) Driponya were chided for a bizarrely configured trail.

After Accuprick declared this hash over and dismissed the pack, a good size group reconvened at the recently opened Chimichanga restaurant for further libations.


And that pretty much did it for this trail and that pretty much does it for this Trash as well.

By 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 sixteenth day of September in the year of our Hash Two-thousand twenty-one.

On-out,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3