Ahoy matey!
Although I wasn’t feeling especially jolly after the completion of this trail!
I admit I was not especially enthused when head-hare In ‘n Out Furburger announced this hash would be another of her theme hashes. Her last one was the infamous toga trail up on the North Coast that made many of us want to jump off the nearest cliff. She used toilet paper to mark much of her trail. I consider that very appropriate and should give you a clue as to the quality of THAT particular trail.
This time, rather than wear a sheet to the beach we were to find short pants (see Maladjusted), ridiculous hats (see Boner Malfunction), wide belts (see Banana), bandannas (see Shallow Hole) and eye patches (see Just Brian, he had a whole bag of the damn vision-inhibiting things).
That assembles this week’s cast of characters. Oh yeah, let’s not forget we’ve assembled our traveling kennel at Brady’s Yacht Club on Lower Seabright so we were most certainly NOT the only colorful sights to be seen tonight. Over a quarter of a hundred hashers bashed the bar at Brady’s demanding grog. Two harried beer wenches filled our orders but did not appear dismayed when we evacuated this den of denizens headed for parts unknown. Fifteen minutes after the hare-trio consisting on In ‘n Out Furburger, Cuff My Muff and Hugh Heifer left us with cryptic Instructions of Trail, Banana Bashers pushed the pack out the rear of the building to conduct circleup for Hash 579.
Time for another installment of Tales of Trail.
On-out itself proved somewhat problematic and it was quite a while before trail was discovered across Murray Street and then headed north on Seabright. This lasted two blocks till marker made us on-right onto Woods Street. Woods was taken till it ends at Owens Street with a check. Little did we know when we arrived at this check but we were REALLY ‘in the woods’ now figuratively speaking. The pack split evenly on-left and on-right. On-one was sounded both directions. Soon on-two was given on-left to Clinton Street and most hounds lit out that way. Soon though, YBF was shouted from Clinton so the gaggle reversed course. On the way back to the check, Plum Street was taken to no avail. Back down Owen we traipsed and rounded the corner onto Hall Street. Halfway down the block, we came snout-to-snout with the walkers led by Banana. Obviously trail did not proceed this way. Now we’re really at a loss for direction.
Eventually we discovered the YBF was more of a back check and trail was located the opposite direction on Clinton which was followed by an on-right onto Darwin Street. Darwin was used to Windham Street where a solved check pointed the pod on-right to Fredrick Street where we encountered another check. Trail was eventually found proceeding on Windham to Harbor Drive where an on-right was indicated. At the end of Harbor, there’s still a locals-only path that leads into Fredrick Street Park after some fierce negotiating with a group of recently-constructed houses threatened to close it. Trail led across the park and took the stairs on-down to the Upper Small Craft Harbor and then on-right and past the memorial for the unofficial Harbor mascot, Lucy the goose. I guess Lucy was actually the only victim of March’s tsunami. Lucy was displaced from her home by the tsunami and consequently fell prey to a predator.
Trail continued on under the bridge and into the lower Harbor area. The gang exited the parking lot onto Atlantic Avenue and took a foreboding on-left towards Aldo’s Restaurant. I say foreboding because we’re either going to swim across the harbor (doubtful) or hash on the sand. As you know, the only thing we hate worse than railroad tracks is the friggin’ sand. Sure enough, trail turned on-right onto the jetty. Partway along the jetty, the ‘RN’ sign was viewed. Having nothing to do with nursing, it signified Rum Near. The bottle was cleverly hidden near the lighthouse at the end of the jetty. As I approached, Broke Bench Mountain passed me headed towards land and he was looking a tad green around the gills. He said Sailor Jerry Rum did not agree with the ale he had consumed at Brady’s and, as we spoke, he said the two were fighting a pitched battle in this bowels.
After concluding our business at the harbor, we dragged our tired tails across Castle Beach and on-up to East Cliff Drive. East Cliff was utilized past the Natural History Museum. Just past the museum, our highly sought-after BN was observed. We finally caught up with our hare-trio at the park overlooking Castle Beach on one side and the river mouth and Boardwalk to the other. We were ungratefully reunited with Sailor Jerry here thanks to Shallow Hole and Just Seth. Wisely though, Seth opted to head back to Brady’s when he reached Seabright. Shallow Hole now had the pleasure of calling him and telling him he missed Beer Check by two blocks. He soon came trotting in to Beer Check wearing an embarrassed grimace. On-in was to the office building across Seabright from Brady’s where Religion is frequently held when we are in the neighborhood.
Broken Shaft became Religious Adviser and Shallow Hole his Beer Fairy. Other than that, Religion was both embarrassing and perturbing as many people seemed more interested in talking and socializing rather than participating in Religion. I’ll say no more on that score.
Religion Lowlights are as follows: TIMMY for having but one day of work remaining to him; all our ‘Just’ hashers were called up; while on trail Furburger asked for help from a diety, ANY one I would imagine; Virgin Cecil was welcomed first but then chided for asking who was in charge of the hash and lastly, Hugh Heifer for the foolish completion of her 169th hash with Surf City. There were a few others but you people didn’t really matter.
Most of those that still remained headed to Seabright Brewery for on-on-on except Banana who returned to Brady’s to settle up this week’s bar tab. And that’s how it went on Trail 579 on June the second, 2011.
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 sixth day of June in the year of our Hash two-thousand eleven.
On-out,
Puff the Magic Drag Queen