The moon in the above picture was the only bright spot on Trail 603 and, as you can see, even IT was not especially illuminating. Somewhat reminiscent of hare Banana Basher’s Instructions of Trail I must say.
We assembled at the the Agnes Street entrance to Arana Gulch Greenspace hoping: rain, rain go away, come again some other day. Due to the fact Banana was our hare, we anticipated a small turnout. We were not disappointed either. After convincing Banana no one else was gong to show snout, he delivered his current version of IoT and outed himself up Mentel Avenue towards Soquel Avenue. Fifteen (or so) minutes later, TIMMY called for circleup and introductions were completed. We welcomed new fathers Mother’s Little Felcher and Spooge Bath-No Pants with a daughter and son respectively. Both will soon be attending a hash I’ve heard.
The pack sauntered on-up Mentel and encountered the evening’s first check near Soquel. Trail was located in the alley (of course) on-left to Hageman Avenue and on-right to Soquel where another check was discovered. After completing the unnecessary and dangerous crossing of Soquel, the pod plodded on-left to Marnell Avenue and then on-right. Let’s fast forward to a check at Parnell Street. Here a check was solved and the troops turned on-right. This seems far too soon (and much too nice) for our hare to head on-in. And it was. Halfway along the next block, flour forced the flock to on-left into one the the numerous alleys scattered throughout the area and, believe you me, Banana knows every damn one of them too. This seldom traveled trail was traversed it’s complete length to spit the school out onto Fairmount Avenue where an on-right had been chosen for us. Fairmount was taken to Park Way where, mercifully, an on-right was indicated. Park Way was used until reaching the medical buildings near Soquel where our horrible hare turned us on-right and on-down to the parking lot entrance at Soquel and Capitola Road. As bad as this trail is, something funny will happen here so let’s hide in the bushes and watch the one-man parade come by.
Here comes dBASED. dBASED is working under the assumption trail will enter Arana Gulch from the Small Craft Harbor end so he flies down Capitola Road as quick as a raped ape. Even though he’s seen no marker he turns on-right onto Seventh Avenue and continues to make a complete fool of himself. Eventually though, even a half-mind the magnitude of our little dBASED admits he has erred and he returns to the check and finds flour but a few feet from where he made the (incorrect) decision that he knew where trail was headed.
Okay, dBASED is safely out of sight, let’s continue with true trail. Trail crossed Soquel and turned on-right and on-up. It cut the corner behind a furniture store and then directed the drove to on-left onto South Park Way (TIMMY just LOVED seeing the sign saying South Park!) which brought the bevy back to Agnes Street where we finally caught up with our hare within a (empty) beer bottle throw from our starting point casually sipping away on Beer Check beer. We must now wait on dBASED to realize he has erred (again) and return to the fold. Ah! Here he comes now but only to be attacked by Nipple Butt who thinks he is protecting his pack from a potential robbery.
Religion was held at it’s usual location, the remaining cement foundation of a house long gone. My Little Bony was arm-twisted into assuming the role of Religious Adviser. He immediately punished backslider Spooge Bath-No Pants by appointing him Beer Fairy. Here’s a synopsis of the other missteps the Bony one perpetrated tonight: Accuprick, unrequested, serenaded the pack with one of his usual rude songs, a down-down was awarded him; Felcher was punished as a backslider but congratulated on the new addition to his family; dBASED for thinking he can outsmart the hare and ending up having to backtrack; Occasional Rapist for running past her Mother’s house and not stopping in to say hello to the poor woman; the My Little Bony for posting a fake story about him spending the weekend in jail to Facebook and practically giving his poor Mother a heart attack. Last but not best is our hare. The hare…the hare has just vanished. He has peeled off circleup to intercept the law enforcement officer coming down the path towards us. It seems a nearby resident mistook us for a gang or other such unsavory characters. If the cop had not been accompanied by the person that ratted us out, I’d vote for Banana having called for ‘mutual aid’ to save him from being reamed for lousy trail. When I hear Banana is to be the week’s hare, a helpless sadness comes over me not unlike clinical depression. I have discussed Banana’s trail-laying shortcomings with him but he has exhibited a willingness to avoid unpleasant realities. Consequently, this trail was disjointed if not downright eccentric.
On-on-on, at least for five of the pack, was conducted at the Mexican restaurant just up the street from Point A. Another group was seen proceeding on Soquel Avenue in the direction of the One-Double-Oh-Seven. That’s not mere coincidence either I’ll bet. Not only was the food good at the Mexican joint but we were riveted by the things Broke Bench taught TIMMY that his new iPhone 4 was capable of providing him. The most notable of these was the location of the nearest prostitute!
By Special Appointment of His Royal Majesty “G”, this Hash Trash has been compiled and printed at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, the sixth day of November in the year of our Hash two-thousand eleven.
On-out,
Puff the Magic Drag Queen