Yet again,

       Those that forget history are doomed to repeat it. While an old and tired cliche, it rings true for the Surf City kennel this day. Yes, in a replay of last week’s getting clubbed at a golf course, we repeated the same error by allowing dBASED, Occasional Rapist and Cum You Will Not to lead the litter in a bridge-to-nowhere trail tromping.

Beginning from one of the few remaining true dive bars in town, The Asti, colloquially called the Nasty Asti, should have raised the proverbial red flag, we ignored what our brain was warning us of and allowed ourselves to be spirited away to this den of iniquity. In an effort to try and fool ourselves we were not at the Asti, the crew assembled in the outdoor drinkin’ area.

This ploy was minimally successful, especially after ingesting a couple of drinks. We were even able to convince ourselves dBASED’s newly introduced mark, that of treating a circle-jerk as a back check(whatever the hell THAT means) would be a fun and welcome addition to our already-confusing set of trail markings.

However, ignore it as we tried, zero hour arrived, introductions were made and the merry members of this madness motored forth.

A check at the first intersection, Pacific Avenue and Laurel Street, sent Steamy Baanorrhea farther along Pacific but soon to return. On-on was given across Pacific on Laurel and towards the river. A check at Front Street was solved and coerced the clan into crossing Front and traipsing towards the river. Now things began to get mildly convoluted if not downright kinky. Trail turned the troops on-right onto the river levee walkway but then made an immediate on-left and under the bridge. Once out from under the darkened bridge under-crossing, marker had hounds turn on-left and back to the same bridge we’d just been forced under and directly across the street from where we stood two minutes prior. While you may consider this an efficient use of territory, many felt this was a supreme exhibition of lazy-ass hares.

We then proceeded to take the bridge to the other side but as soon as the crossing was completed an on-left was indicated pointing the pod back onto the river levee walkway and then another immediate on-left and under the bridge to emerge pointed towards the Boardwalk. The cloverleaf confusion made a few hounds dizzy. I mean that literally, not figuratively.  We ambled along the levee to Riverside Avenue where we crossed under the Riverside bridge and, needless to say, turned on-left and back up to the bridge where we were directed to cross the street and on-left onto the bridge to cross the river once again. Once back on solid ground, an on-left put us on the other side of Riverside where, and you can probably see this one coming, on-left and on-under yet another bridge and back onto the river levee walkway again. I did not know the walkway was this damn long.
 

Now we began the torturous on-up of Beach Hill via Third Street. We’ve spent so much time under bridges this evening, the street lights were almost blinding. Once atop the crest, trail proceeded to make an on-left onto Main Street and past the abode of Dicky Wacker who wisely chose not to join us on this fiasco. Someone blew their whistle as we passed his place and we saw all the lights go off in a flagrant attempt to convince us he was not home. We continued on, we’ve always wished to ignore Dicky Wacker anyway.

Once we reached Second Street, we were directed on-right all the way to Pacific Avenue where this folly began oh-so-long ago. A slight on-left was performed here and then on-up the steps to West Cliff Drive and across the Howe truss bridge(another damn bridge) and then on-left onto Beach Street. As we neared Pacific Avenue(again) we were directed on-left into a parking lot and, but of course, under the bridge we just crossed and into Depot Park.

This was NOT a ‘walk in the park’ though. Once through the park and (again) back to Pacific Avenue, we turned on-left onto Center Street and, mercifully, on-left again prior to passing the police station. It was then across a field and the tracks and onto Jenne Street. Here was the highlight of this trail.

Once past the set of tall Hallowe’en decorations, an on-right on Blackburn yielded to on-left onto Neary followed by an on-right onto Felix which brought us to the Turkey/Eagle split at Laurel. Very few wished to deal with the Laurel Street hill so an on-right was made onto Laurel. A few blocks later, an arrow pointed the pod on-left onto Myrtle Street and, even more welcome, was the fact this was soon followed by the BN mark. So, beside the Santa Cruz High athletic field which was still hosting an event, the hares hosted Beer Check. 

After the straggling Eagle hare dBASED arrived followed by the few Eagle hounds, the pack adjourned to the abandoned section of Laurel Street Extension behind Wheel Works/Tires Plus to convene Religion.

Here’s a sampling of the down-downs awarded by Religious Adviser dBASED: TIMMY!! for not doing trail, Pretty Fly for a Pi Guy, Cuntjungle, Ho to Housewife and Chippin’ Ballz as backsliders, Baker’s Dozen’t for attempting to explain his thoughts on what comprises a circle-jerk, Rubik’s Pube for water abuse and Hugh Heifer for returning to the scene of her very first Hash, that being The Asti. Oh, yeah. The accursed hares. They were sternly told there was to be no ‘three-peat’ for haring.

After the dismissal of the pack, a number traipsed up Front Street to Woodstock’s Pizza for on-on-on. I have it on good authority TIMMY!! and Six of Nine opted for Abbott Square instead.

That concluded Trail 1157 and this Trash as well.

This was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. One should never allow the facts to stand in the way of a good story.

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 fourteenth day of October in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3