Why, a thinking person might ask, did I even go to the hash? My ass is sore as hell from trying to learn to squat with a barbell on my back. It’s pouring rain. The kids are having school drama. It’s 7:15pm and I’ve missed the goddamn start again. All good reasons why a sane and reasonable person would say fuck it, and stay home. Am I a sane and reasonable person? Evidently, I am not.

So I get to the Boardwalk Bowl, park, look for chalk (none found) look for hashers (ditto.) I check inside. No. I look again outside. There it is! The faintest tracing of chalk! The rain, I can see, is going to be a problem. On on! To the boardwalk. And look! A turkey eagle split! Maybe I have a chance to catch up with some turkeys if I hustle. Hope springs eternal.
I follow the turkey trail inside. Nothing. Through and outside. Nothing. Nothing on the boardwalk, nothing on the beach. I am puzzled. I go back outside to look a the split. It’s gone. Did I hallucinate? Possibly. I call Cum Fart Zone in an attempt to gather intel. No joy there, she is playing mini golf and has no idea where trail goes. Well, huh.

I figure the turkeys must have gone a different way than the eagles so I head towards the wharf. I get to the wharf. No trail. Did I miss it? Did the rain wash it away? I give up and come back. By now I’m both wet and warm. So that much is just as promised.
I figure what the hell, and start looking for eagle. Success! There is flour! Wow. Flour works WAY better than chalk in the rain. Ok, so at last I’m on trail, which makes me happy. I follow trail along the railroad tracks to the bridge. Huh. I must have missed a mark, because there’s no way trail went over the train bridge, right?! I take the pedestrian bridge across, and find an arrow indicating trail should depart from the tracks and come to me. DungFu, you are a crazy bastard. You laid trail across the railroad bridge in the rain. Why you try to kill us, friend?

Onward and upward I go, huzzah! Thank goodness for flour. Did I mention that it is raining? And that the chalk is pretty much washed away? I run around a bit, completely losing trail once, find it a few blocks away, and end up on the river path. At the end of the river path there are not just one but two arrows indicating I should go down into the river?! What’s with the murder trail tonight, DungFu? Is there something you wanna say? Spit it out, man!
I decline to go wading into the river. There is no more trail. I cast around and finally find a faint trace of arrow on the other side of Soquel. Yay! I’m on trail again! I encounter many wet and sad homeless people near San Lorenzo park. I cross the river on the pedestrian bridge to downtown. Downtown has some excellent gypsy fiddle busking. I stop to listen and give the fiddler some money because what the hell, there’s no way I’ll catch up with the pack at this point.

I’m able to follow trail pretty well until somewhere around Walnut and Center, where the rain suddenly increases from the previous steady downpour to a thunderous dumping of water that completely erases all traces of chalk and flour. Either that or I missed something.
At this point I decide to fuck off to religion, figuring everyone else is there already anyhow. I trot along past the cop shop, past depot park, and along the path to the underside of the railroad trestle where I find, instead of happy beer-laden degenerates, a convention of more sad, wet homeless people. We wish each other good evening and I continue on, downcast.
But look! On the path! It’s chalk! Yay, I’m back on trail! Maybe I will find religion somewhere? But no, it is not to be. Eventually I find myself back at the boardwalk bowl, with no more trail to follow. I’m about to give up and go home when I encounter a large number of warm, dry hashers boasting about their mini golf and laser tag exploits. Wow. Just wow. Losers.
I leave them to karaoke the night away and head home for some dry clothes and the exciting opportunity to harass teenage boys about their homework and bedtime.
On on,
Genital Tongs