Surf City H3 trail 72 took place on February 28, 2002.  Here is Puff the Magic Drag Queen’s Trash:

Pack Mates,

The moon was in perigee with the third rock from the sun for Surf City hash number 73. The night was therefore very bright. I only wish I could say the same for Bad Spoon Rising, our lone hare for the night. I had hoped Bad Spoon Rising’s recent marriage would get him straight, so to speak, and bring some small measure of relief to Surf City. I have been sadly disappointed. I noted Hands Solo was still in possession of his stolen digital camera. If he had made a film of this night’s festivities, it would surely have been titled “Honey, I shrank my brain.”

Spirits, all varieties, were high as the pack assembled at spiritual home Sports Grill Santa Cruz on the night of February twenty-eighth. In what seems to be becoming somewhat of a tradition, the hare was late. It always makes me nervous when the hare has not appeared when the time for the on-out has already passed. Eventually, the hare did finally come in, dragging his little tail behind him. He offered no explanation for his late arrival. Banana Basher threatened him with telling (current) wife Box Lunch some of the more sordid details of his prior life. This proved more than sufficient to get the hare on-out. After the passage of sufficient time, HM Banana Basher corralled the following hounds into circleup: Pearl Necklace, Last Call Norm, Bailas Con Burros, dBASED, Spore Whore, Cum Lord, Weiner, Feel My Seal, Butt Balls, Rabbi Sheep Shanker, Hot Wheels, DuuHHH, Rear Admiral, P.C.P., Little Spit, Giant Athletic Supporter (GAS), Just Matt, Hands Solo, Virgin P.J., BM Little Oral Andy, HC Butt Floss, RA Pussy Galore and Keeper of the True Word HS Puff the Magic Drag Queen.

Almost immediately, the pack split to the four winds sniffing for trail. Puff accompanied Weiner and Little Oral Andy across Locust to the library parking lot. Soon, we heard the on-on call from Locust and Center and traveled in that direction. Trail went north on Center.

At the intersection with Union, the pack again split sniffing for trail. Trail was located proceeding, still north, on the obscure, interesting little artists’ enclave called Squid Row. A right onto Chestnut headed the pack towards the intersection with both Center and Cedar Streets. But wait! The FRB’s have just dropped off my radar screen. Where did they go? Even more obscure that Squid Row is a series of steps that can take one from the depths of the flood plain belonging to the mighty San Lorenzo to the heights of Mission Hill occupied by the restored Santa Cruz Mission and Holy Cross Catholic Church. As I said, it can take one there, making the assumption they’re stupid enough to want to climb them all. Most hashers stopped about halfway up to acclimate themselves to the thinner oxygen before proceeding any further.

Once level ground had been reached, the trail took us behind the large office building facing Mission Street and, eventually, the herd crossed Mission and headed, still north, on Emmet towards Holy Cross. Don’t get too far ahead now though, trail has just abruptly turned on School Street beside the restored Mission and is headed towards another set of steps which would lead us back down to town.

Curses! That wily hare has thrown us a back check. The troops U-turned and motivated back the Emmet and began sniffing from there. As to be expected, trail was observed to head in front of Holy Cross and towards our frequently used pedestrian bridge across traffic-snarled Highway 1. A check was observed immediately after returning to ground level on High Street. Continuing on-up High netted only a false trail. No return to the den of the Sheep Rocker family apparently. No marking was discovered proceeding on-down the trail into Harvey West Park nor onto the edge of Highway 1 through a hole in the fence.

All other avenues of escape eliminated, the deduction was arrived at that the hare had gone on-up Edge Cliff (appropriately named) and left towards Highland Avenue. Upon our arrival at Highland, another very appropriately named street, Giant Athletic Supporter was heard to begin praying we were not to be coerced to attempt the remaining half mile or so to the top of Highland. Vindictive hare that he is, this is precisely what Bad Spoon Rising had in mind for his former friends.

Now with only a desire for vengeance for fuel, GAS sprinted for the top with blood in her eye. Our hare had found a locals-only walkway proceeding starward at an incredibly sharp incline. Halfway up, dBASED and Banana Basher became so tired that Hot Wheels and Little Spit got out of their carriage and helped push to the top. The steps near the top called for team work and the carriage to be lifted over head.

Once the top was claimed, all stopped for a breather. Proceeding west on Highland, a ‘single lane’ sign was observed. The pack merrily formed a conga line and dutifully proceeded through this section of trail. A left onto Roger Drive yielded to a right onto the short block of Longview Drive which then yielded to a right onto Estates Drive. Read through that one more time if you are desirous of reliving one of the most pointless circles jerks Surf City has ever fallen for. If this was meant to be a ‘cool down’ lap, it had just the opposite effect on the majority of the gang.

Marker indicated we were now to return to our previous course, west on Highland. Only a short distance later though, marker indicated a right onto Sheldon Avenue. This would bring us back to a recurring theme for almost the entire trail so far tonight, go north, young hounds. If this hare was taking us to Pogonip in the dead of night, “night” would not be the only thing “dead” around here.

At Meadow Road, decision time had arrived. A left would mean a shortened life for our hare. In either a case of good judgment or blind luck, our hare turned the herd east down Meadow and finally in he general direction of home. With Meadow apparently dying in someone’s front yard, the term ‘back check’ began looming. But wait. Again I’ve underestimated the cruelty of our hare. At the end of Meadow, a rickety set of stairs (No, not more stairs!) heads on-down and into the complete darkness provided courtesy of towering redwoods. Exhibiting a complete lack of rectitude, trail marker dared us to go where the hare had gone.

Puff found Rabbi Sheep Shanker standing at the top of the stairs whining. Puff volunteered to go first.  After being pushed by Rabbi Sheep Shanker that is. The pack plunged into dark depths and headed towards an unknown fate. Down and down we went. Eventually, Rabbi Sheep Shanker caught up with P.C.P. and Butt Floss, neither of which had deemed it necessary to carry a light stick. Soon, this mini-pack found Cum Lord. He, too, was wandering aimlessly in the dark in search of flour or bread crumbs to lead him to safety.

After the expenditure of great amounts of energy and praying, the trail widened out and, lo and behold, we’d found Wagner Grove. Harvey West Park, and a chance for salvation, was now within our grasp.

At the opening of Wagner Grove, the beer near marker was observed as was hare Bad Spoon Rising. Our hare was laying on a picnic table draining the last of his third beer. All present were more than happy to join him.

What followed was the normal reaming of the hare and swapping of lies about the dedication to duty of each and every hound to remain on trail and plow forward through the night’s darkness. All lies. It was soon noted however, one of our number was still missing. Where was Last Call Norm? I had personally seen her make the right onto Sheldon off of Highland. It was a straight shot down Sheldon to Meadow and on-right to the on-down to Wagner Grove. If you say it would have therefore been impossible for anyone to have gotten lost, I’d say you don’t know Last Call Norm very well. Cum Lord, Pearl Necklace and Puff headed back up-trail looking for the lost hound. Puff made it as far as Wagner Grove and decided two search-and-rescure hounds would be enough. Okay, okay. I was also aware there was plenty of beer left in the hare’s cooler as well. The on-in was sounded and the pack plodded back along Evergreen Street and on-up the pathway beside Highway 1. Upon reaching the base of the pedestrian bridge across Highway 1, seen crudely scrawled in chalk was “LC Norm was here, On-in”. So Norm had at least found her way home, much to everyone’s relief. At almost this exact point in time Cum Lord and Pearl Necklace, search-and-recuse hound duties fulfilled, came trotting down High Street and reunited with the pack. The pack now went across the pedestrian bridge over Highway 1, past Holy Cross Church and on-down to point A, Sports Grill Santa Cruz.

After Banana Basher was able to talk his wait staff into unlocking the door for us, the pack assembled in our unofficial meeting room and waited for RA Pussy Galore to build her altar.

The first victim of the night was Virgin P.J., who was joined by the person that made her come, the infamous Banana Basher. The RA then renamed this newest hasher Just P.J.

Puff was now summoned forth. Puff was awarded a congratulatory down-down for foolishly attending one year straight of Surf City hashes. Raising the bar (one kind), once again.

Spore Whore was brought before the hash and accused of bragging over his recent loss of five pounds in one week. Anyone that ran behind Spore Whore this week knows the five pounds has not been “lost”, only repositioned. He was convicted and awarded a down-down.

Hare Bad Spoon Rising was ordered to hop forward to answer charges of too easy a trail, not enough steps; not to mention too much light for a night trail, referring to the bizarre illumination rods viewed in Wagner Grove. He was easily convicted and awarded a down-down.

Just Matt was now summoned to appear and it was made known this was his fourth hash with Surf City but his fifth total hash. He was awarded a congratulatory down-down but also warned not to try and sneak out prior to his naming ceremony.

Puff was again interrupted from his scribe duties and brought forward to receive another “No Life” award for his continued dedication to duty and selfless service to the hash. Unable to offer any defense, Puff was convicted and awarded (another) down-down.

Little lost Last Call Norm was helped to the front and accused of missing beer check. Her defense was weak pertaining to getting off trail and then being too afraid of the dark to attempt a crossing of Wagner Grove. She was convicted and awarded a down-down.

Little Oral Andy was brought forth and accused of taking one too many testosterone pills before tonight’s hash. He frequently relies on these pills to see him through each hash. “This is trail, this is the way I’m running”. Big words from such a little man. And now, in a recurring theme of the night, the Club of Jealousy triumvirate accused Puff of being FRB to beer check. Obviously untrue as Puff was guiding wayward hashers through Wagner Grove. Truth has never been the strong suit of the Club of Jealousy. That, coupled with Weiner and Butt Balls plying the hashers nearest them with alcohol, was enough to convict Puff on another set of trumped up charges. Therefore, Little Oral Andy was joined by Puff in his down-down.

One of our most notorious members, GAS, was now snared by the RA for conducting a private party. The only way to get a down-down in this hasher is to catch her as she stops talking long enough to take a breath. Pussy Galore timed it perfectly and GAS was made to consume her down-down.

Now the RA herself had charges leveled at her. But before she could even hear said charges, she stated she was feeling ill and Puff was to be her stand-in for the night. Thanks to the Club of Jealousy, Puff didn’t really feel like standing in for anyone by now. But as usual, Puff’s diatribe fell on deaf, or maybe dead, ears. But being short sighted, as they are “short” in so many areas, the Club of Jealousy gave Puff the dubious distinction of having been awarded four down-downs in one night. Raising the bar, once again.

The supposedly ill Pussy Galore magically presented Banana Basher with a poster that it apparently took her seven months to complete. This poster was started after the completion of last July’s Wharf to Wharf/Wharf to Barf-a-thong. It was signed by a few of the top placing people in that “other” event in town that weekend but most notably by the hashers that pranced along with them from the Santa Cruz Wharf to the Capitola Wharf. The framing had been completed (finally) and it was given wall space. For some reason though, this necessitated Banana Basher consuming a down-down.

Just Matt was summoned and awarded another pre-naming down-down.

A charge was brought against Rear Admiral. She was accused of forgetting her suggestion for Just Matt’s hash name. Being honest as she is, Rear Admiral did not try and lie her way out of it. She was convicted and awarded a down-down.

A break in the action was now called for by the RA. This was just cause for every hasher to award themselves a congratulatory down-down.

Without going into the sordid details, everyone used this opportunity to vent personal problems on Just Matt. Playing on his propensity for what I will euphemistically term “younger” women, these are some of the notable suggestions that are printable: She’s not my Daughter, Now Serving, Big Disappointment and Baby Sitter. However, we have Little Oral Andy to thank for allowing us to say good-bye to Just Matt and hello to “New Kids on My Cock”.

Stupid is as Stupid Does Award to Feel My Seal. Even prior to leaving the Grill, Feel My Seal showed me his light stick. This instrument produced considerably less illumination than a Zippo lighter. Intelligence notwithstanding, Feel My Seal still opted to continue the hash rather than purchase new batteries. For the majority of the hash, Seal was forced to stay so close to someone with a real source of light, it appeared he was getting fresh with them. Therefore, for appearing at a hash in the middle of winter with a light stick that it would be unable to attract even a firefly in heat, Feel My Seal with carry the Scribe’s Stupid is as Stupid Does Dragon Hat Award for Surf City hash number 74. If he shows up.

Dishonorable mention to Hot Wheels. At the completion of beer check, Hot Wheels was heard to tell dBASED he would like to hash through Wagner Grove again. dBASED, still frazzled from the first time on-down through Wagner Grove, agreed to hash with Hot Wheels. But just as Hot Wheels began to smile, dBASED said “Only if you push me this time”. Needless to say, that was the end of Hot Wheel’s campaign for a repeat performance.

And on that note, I will return to my search for signs of intelligent life in Santa Cruz.

Submitted, with all respect due,
Puff the Magic Drag Queen
Surf City H3 Scribe