Hello and welcome to Trail 1171.
The darkness shielded our eyes from unpleasant sights along trail but not from trail itself. It is a fact proven many times over: Too many cooks spoil the stew. To extrapolate from that: Too many hares spoil the trail. In this instance, three hares put the pack in a stew as we attempted to solve the many riddles presented by this trail.
Your Scribe has every intention of supporting this assertion with incontrovertible proof thereof.
Beginning at New Bohemia Brewery, NuBo in the colloquial vernacular, was a wise move on the part of our hare trio, and sadly, possibly the only wise one they made the entire evening.
The hares were witnessed hastily conferring making last minute trail adjustments. This is a kind way of saying more hounds had appeared than anticipated so certain ‘refinements’ were necessary to insure they were not trapped by those pursuing them.
The most significant event prior to on-out was International House of Pussy passing around a petition. She would not divulge how much she was being paid but I’m certain it more than paid for her Hash tonight. That illustrates how entrancing the pack found Instructions of Trail. They were forgotten as soon as the hares hopped on-out. After the passage of another beer(maybe 2 if your name is TIMMY!!) Broke Bench Mountain called for circleup for Introductions and heard responding barks from the following hounds: Dicky Wacker(soon to become lost), Princess Di(arrhea), Wicked Retahted, TIMMY!!, Just Holly, Snake Me Anywhere, Cum You Will Not, Fap Jack, Steamy Baanorrhea, Fucked-Over Fest, dBASED, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Clearly Not a Hooker, Jizziki, International House of Pussy, Occasional Rapist, Cumz Out My Nose, Broke Bench Mountain and Puff the Magic Drag Queen.
By virtue of the fact it was dark and your Scribe is unfamiliar with the terrain here, trail description will be rather brief. Well, that plus the fact it was on the whole rather boring.
So, we headed on-right from NuBo on to discover false markings. Next we tried on-left and soon found maker turning us on-left onto Bain Avenue which we traversed to an on-right onto Nova Drive and then a brief on-left onto Portola Drive. Portola is quite busy but mercifully we quickly made an on-left onto 47th Avenue. We were then directed on-right onto Opal Street and observed the promised Turkey/Eagle split at 49th Avenue. Let’s see what our hares have in store for the Eagles, shall we?
The Eagles took Opal to Prospect Avenue and across to stairs leading on-down to the railroad tracks and Cliff Drive beyond. There was some confusion here. Fucked-Over Fest went on-left down the tracks but encountered false markings. All other avenues of exit were broached with no success. When inquired about the mark he saw, Fucked-Over Fest said the three lines he saw across trail were through an arrow. Hmmm, says Steamy Baanorrhea, sort of sounds like a hare arrow to me. How long since you last hashed?!? Trotting down the tracks, we found Fucked-Over Fest’s false markings and determined they were really a skewed hare arrow. Down the tracks we went. Just prior to the trestle, we encountered a chain link fence preventing the use of said trestle. Utilizing our typical tenacity, hashers breached the defenses of the fences and scurried on-down the stairs to Capitola Road. A check here was solved turning the troops on-left and on-up to make and then an on-left onto Prospect Avenue.
Not far along Prospect, marker made the members of the Eagle clan on-right onto Garnet Street. We’re deep into what is colloquially called the Jewel Box section of Capitola. Garnet was taken across 49th, 47th and 45th avenues. Once across 45th, things got a bit dicey. The next section of trail, now rejoined with the Turkeys, became a mix of public streets and apartment complex driveways. Eventually, via Diamond Street and 42nd Avenue, we found our feet on Jade Street and then on-right back to 41st Avenue. Here was the second(and hopefully last) Turkey/Eagle split. Seeing as how we did the first Eagle, let’s continue being foolhardy and attempt the second as well.
Eagles crossed 41st Avenue and continued along what is now Brommer Street. Your Scribe was trotting with Fucked-Over Fest(he of false marking/hare arrow fame) and we went a very long way until the next mark…which was an arrow FACING us! Somewhere we obviously missed an on-right arrow which was the prelude to a circle jerk. We did not shed tears over missing such though. By some devious means I am unable to remember, the hares funneled us onto Star Lane, 35th Avenue and then to Portola using a secret passage which I hope no one ever finds again. It was unsettling at best and most likely illegal at worst.
Once back to Portola we went on-left and then using 37th Avenue and Madrone Avenue(little more than an alley) we found ourselves on East Cliff Drive and pointed on-left and to the overlook area at The Hook at the bottom of 41st Avenue for Beer Check.
But where is Dicky Wacker? No one knew. We presumed he was lost or possibly incarcerated by Capitola PD on a charge of vagrancy.
After concluding our business here we migrated north on 41st to the parking lot on the corner of Portola. While heading there, the pack stumbled across Dicky Wacker who probably ended up hashing a trail longer than anyone. After moving a few times to avoid a vehicle that appeared as if it wished to move, we stettled in for Religion with two reluctant RA’s, Pink Cherry Licker and Dung-Fu Grip. Neither thought they should be made to RA after haring but dBASED said he was only backup RA to be abused when no duly elected RA’s were present. In other words, he told them to fuck-off and do their job!
A brief sampling of the down-downs awarded are: the hares for trying to worm out of RAing; backslider down-downs; analversary down-downs; couple of crimes-on-trail down-downs and lastly, the hare-trio.
On-on-on was staged at Taqueria Vallarta and was well attended though cliquey. We had Occasional Rapist and dBASED romancing at a table for two, TIMMY!! and Dicky Wacker communing at another table and our COVID-paranoids, International House of Pussy and Dung-Fu Grip, freezing outside.
That puts a cap on this Hash and on 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 eighteenth day of January in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.
Submitted with all respect due,
Magic Drag Queen
Surf City H3 Scribe