Greetings out there in voyeur land,
Puff the Magic Drag Queen here. Puff has been coerced into becoming acting Scribe due to neither Pink Cherry Licker or Occasional Rapist showing snout at this week’s hash. PCL claimed she had a job function to perform. Since when did working take priority over hashing? And as for our Rapist friend, she said after her trip to the Dominican Republic, she’s “tired of people”. If we were to substitute the word “dBASED” for the word “people”, I think we’d be far closer to the truth. Lastly, it was decided the third side of the scribing triangle, Shallow Hole, should not be allowed to scribe her own trail. Funny thing but when Scribes are hares, and visa versa, their trail was stupendous and has set a new standard for hashing. We learned this in the olde days when Puff was Scribe and did the writeup when he hared.
Mercifully, as almost all of this trail consisted of off-roading, Puff will have very little to write. Even more, trail was an unholy terror best forgotten by the few that hashed it and should not be added to the memory of those that (wisely) skipped it.
Point A was a parking lot on Green Hills Road. A very pleasant name for a really horrible area. Things started poorly. Most of the pack arrived long before Beermistress Hugh Heifer came careening in. Hounds raided Beer Check beer from co-hare Shallow Hole until Hugh’s beer wagon arrived. Last hound to arrive, Dog Breath, searched his car and discovered he’d neglected to bring shorts. Hugh said, “Oh, I’ve got plenty of men’s clothing under the seat in my truck!” Wisely, no one asked why. Right now you may be thinking, “That worked out great!” Remember though, this is the hash and we’re talking about Dog Breath. Here’s the scene that unfolded. Dog Breath dropped his jeans and got into Hugh’s shorts, so to speak, without bothering to hide his white butt behind his car. Yes, Dog Breath changed clothes right in front of the entire horrified pack. Not an especially auspicious beginning to a hash, was it?
Instructions of Trail were completed as soon as Shallow Hole noticed no one was bothering to listen. The hares then outed themselves but not in the direction of trail head. This is another thing I don’t like, dBASED deciding to “blaze his own trail”. This, too, frequently portends potential problems for the pack. The only thing that really gets “blazed” are the poor bastards that have to follow him.
Seen above is on-out with Just Jeremiah and Just Marisol leading the litter. Sadly, their energy level would decrease dramatically over the course of trail. Soon after this, there was some confusion as to trail direction. A number of hounds returned to Green Hills Road but then turned back on-left through a business parking lot, into the woods and onto a fire road. Broke Bench Mountain was seen about this time but said a recent foot injury would prevent him from hashing this trail. This being a dBASED trail, what the hell was he expecting?!? He was not seen again though I bet had Hugh inventoried her beer trough, she’d find Broke Bench may have paid it a visit before he left!
The picture above is indicative of the hill-hell that was Hash 745. There is little else I need to say about it nor does it DESERVE any more to be said of it. There were a number of these huge hills, each and every one lined with poison oak. PO, not being a fan of too much water, has exploded onto the scene in this third year of drought. Trail featured precious few checks as there was nowhere-else-the-hell-to-go. Liquor Check also turned out to be a YBF as backtracking was required to locate trail after it. A curmudgeon-hiker was encountered who refused to acknowledge our presence. Many sections of this poorly-maintained trail featured ankle-twisting crevices, rocks to be dealt with and low hanging tree branches that threatened to pull out handfuls of hair. 
The picture above is not one of the Wee Folk but a doll found at the site for Beer Check. There were a number of these curious curios in redwood stumps scattered about. Their purpose and origin remain unknown.
Th pack had spread out like butter in a frying pan. It was a good twenty-plus minutes from FRB to DFL. It was beginning to get dark when the last, lost and lonely hounds came in off the mountain. Beer Check was quickly adjourned then Religion convened back at Point A.
Accuprick assumed the reins and appointed Cumcerto his Beer Fairy. Dog Breath was punished for mooning the pack. Jeremiah and Marisol were punished as back sliders. Cumcerto and Dung-Fu Grip were made a laughing stock for sliding backwards on trail almost as much as they moved forward. Chip and Jeremiah were chided for peeing along trail. Until tonight, I had not been aware mandatory biological functions were a criminal act. Well, leave it to Accuprick to insure everyone receives their fair share of abuse justified or not. Chip was awarded a down-down for being such a motivational cheerleader along trail and TIMMY for nominating him. TIMMY remained at the altar and was treated to a rousing chorus of Get a life! for the completion of his 425th has with us. Shallow Hole was congratulated for surviving la vida loco another year. Again she claimed it to be her 29th birthday. If one hare drinks, they ALL drink so dBASED joined her. Both remained at the altar to suffer the slings and arrows of an outraged pack over this trail.
On-on-on was at Salsa’s Mexican restaurant but was only attended by Cumcerto, who continued drinking, Dog Breath, who mercifully kept his clothes on, TIMMY, already in the cups and consequently refrained from his usual whiskey and your acting Scribe.
That’s pretty much it for Trail 745. I will now return to my search for signs of intelligent life in Santa Cruz.
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 first day of June in the year of our Hash two-thousand and fourteen.
With all respect due,
Puff the Magic Drag Queen
Acting Scribe
Surf City H3
Hash 743 started from the hotel bar of The Dream Inn called Jack Oneil’s lounge. The Dream Inn will always be memorable for me as it’s where I consummated my current marriage. Of course it is quite nice, so I’ll probably never have an occasion to spend another night there.
While trail seemed to be commonly observed as a cluster fuck by the pack, I missed the fucked up part. There was a check in front of the wharf and a long ass false to Neptune’s Kingdom at the Boardwalk. I suspected the hares really meant Back Checked, so I headed up Cliff Street, then left on 2nd. I figured to hit trail somewhere by Depot Park. At Depot Park, I saw Hashers retreating on the railroad tracks. In my mind, this left one option open to the hares – take West Cliff Drive and return via Neary Lagoon. So, I took Neary Lagoon to where I had been the host for the hurricane check outside of Neary Lagoon for The Red Dress Run. No marks there, so I stuck my tail between my legs and took Bay back towards West Cliff, figuring to find trail somewhere along the way.
On this day, Puff decided if he had done it 12 years ago, he could do it again, and scrambled down the rocks to the stairs. All others retreated and looped around to West Cliff.
Rumor has it, beer check was inhabited by numerous mosquitoes. However, I have been in many places in the world where many people have been attacked by mosquitoes and I have felt none. So, I noticed none.
Pink Cherry Licker got her 69th Hash patch and she appeared to pickled pink about it.
The On-On-On was a South Beach Pizza. May the Hash go in Peace!
I think this place will be well visited over the summer! Before they left, they asked if everyone knew about STFU, and what it stood for (they are notorious for this now). Trail started out on Main street. Right away we had to climb a hill, which luckily for us was the only real hard part of trail. I noticed this is where Fap Jack, PCL, and Electric Labia Land decided to turn around. We then traversed through towards Capitola Ave. and crossed the street bridge over into Capitola parts. Trail then led us through a very private upscale mobile home park, the Brookvale Terrace, this is where we saw STFU chalk markings. This was a surprising well managed park, I’m not one to want to live in a mobile home park but if I had to, this definitely would be the one! Trail led down the oasis Brookvale creek, and then up another hill, but well paved I might add. Then we worked our way to a very private cool little park nestled in between 3 streets, a triangle shaped park, at Cortez st., Columbus Dr., and Sir Francis Ave.’s. This is where we found a potted Cactus Pinata 
hanging from the biggest tree! By the time the DFL’s approached we witnessed Deep Stroke swinging away at the pinata like she was on a war path! Out flew a mini bar and Toostie Lolly-pops! There was tequila, rum, schnaaps, and hot fire flavored mini liquor bottles. A Hasher’s dream! We hung out awhile to give the hares some time to head out. It was funny as there we’re kids and parents hanging out on the playground near us and once they saw what flew out of the Pinata they left mysteriously? Trail then headed on out towards Monterrey Ave. towards Bay Ave. Beer Check happended in a parking lot off Bay at (
Twisted Fister! We had to make religion run fast as a cop pulled up shortly after we started, lucky for us the cop was looking for a “Domestic Abuse call” and when he heard we we’re there gathering after our friendly “run”, I do not believe he even stepped foot into the park! Yaay. Noted down downs; Backsliders: Diddler on the Roofie and Shiny Snail Trail, Slonad? Also Twisted celebrated a down down for his 50th Surf City hash with us! Dung-Fu Grip drank for doing his 25th consecutive hash with us! Get a life get a life get a life life life…
The Hares had a date with Santa Cruz Warriors and nothing was going to deter them. I honestly thought we might head straight to Kaiser stadium, have a beer check close by, and the hares would abandon us. Instead, the hares ran us in a 1.5 mile loop with beer check across the street from their house. They fooled a few, including me, by having beer check at some patio area instead of in the back parking lot.
I think what she really meant was 10. That happens when you Hash once a year. Before you go berating the length of this trail, I want to you to know the length of this trail was typical in old Surf City Hash days. Most of the trails we do these might have resulted in hare dismemberment. After the hares caught their breath, and soon after the pack arrived, they were off to see the Warriors. The Hasher who had the hardest time catching their breath was Nippleless Butt. He looked like had run 10 miles in the heat of the day. He did not recover unless Hugh Heffer offered him a dog bowl of water at religion.
The highlight of trail was when My Little Bony saw a horrific car accident and was forced to relieve his horrified eyes at the 007. This caused him to miss the beer check. Amazingly, no one else saw the car accident. He was rewarded for chivalry as well as being a backslider at religion.
This weeks’s anniversary was Timmy for his 420th hash, only a week or so after 4/20.