Greetings,

And welcome to Hotel Hell courtesy of Rainbow Butthole, My Sister’s Dildo and Wines Like A Bitch. They chose the Sheraton as Point A for their trail most likely due to the fact they did not wish any of their friends in Felton to see them being hashers. Right down Scotts Valley Drive is favorite Steel Bonnet Brewing. Why did we not start there? Well, the logical explanation is our hare-trio frequents that establishment and, again, did not wish to be seen with hashers and as they will never be staying at the Sheraton, it was a safe place and would allow them to retain their dignity.

So, that explains the bizarre starting point. However, even days after completing this trail, I am unable to explain trail itself, much less their motivation behind such a dastardly deed. This trail featured more hills than the Pike’s Peak Hill Climb. At least the people participating in that sporting event get to drive. So, this explains the motivations behind where we began this fiasco from but leaves open the thoughts going through the half-minds of our trio of terror. That will be left up to the privacy of your own thoughts to suss.

The pack straggled in slowly and that includes your Scribe whom does not know the difference between a Hilton and a Sheraton. Once fully assembled and only slightly behind the announced start time, Rainbow Butthole made an attempt at Instructions of Trail. While not especially informative, her soliloquy may actually have comprised the most successful aspect of this trail. She made a number of promises about trail. Sadly, I have come to the conclusion Rainbow Butthole has never made a promise she couldn’t break. Hares off.

The next fifteen minutes were passed amiably residing in lounge chairs on the veranda at the Sheraton. No wait staff though, we had to hump our own drinks from the bar. I assume business is not booming at this particular time of year.

When we absolutely positively could not postpone any longer, co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain called for Circleup for Introductions and heard responses from the following hounds: Dung-Fu Grip, Baker’s Dozen’t, Rubik’s Pube, TIMMY!!, Steamy Baanorrhea, Pink Cherry Licker, Man AIDS, Womb With A View, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, dBASED and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Representing the four-leg contingency was Junk Puncher and Boulder. There’s your cast of characters, let’s see what they do this evening.

The first hundred yards of trail was rather strange. We sneaked off the deck down the back stairs that led, basically speaking, to the dumpster. There we encountered Broke Bench Mountain, AKA Scrooge, attempting to salvage a decade-old cooler that Beermeister TIMMY!! had decided was no longer worth repairing.

While that was a rather bizarre sight, far worse awaited us on this trail we were to learn. After that interesting sight, we turned on-right and came to Scotts Valley Drive. A solved check here turned the troops on-left to begin a rather dreary stretch of concrete terminated by one of the two promised Turkey/Eagle splits. Let’s on-left with the Eagles down Carbonero Way. Just after crossing Bean Creek, the pod was pointed on-right into a group of businesses. At the very end of the parking lot was another bizarre sight.

It did not take long to determine the hares’ laughter was due to our crossing Bean Creek again…in the water this time though. It was, mercifully, a short visit and we emerged into a parking lot and made our way back to Scotts Valley Drive and went on-left. We continued on this dreary stretch until just passed Malone’s Grille where an arrow pointed us on-left onto Oak Creek Boulevard to begin the first of a number of on-ups. This street curves on-right and to a gate presumably to prevent short-cutters from tearing through this residential area. What it was NOT able to stop was our hares from staging a Liquor Check.

Leaving Liquor Check we continued along Oak Creek Blvd….and continued climbing. Oak Creek eventually crested and then turned on-right to begin a on-down equivalent to all our on-ups combined. It was damn steep in other words. This dumped us onto Glen Canyon Road where we went on-right to Mount Hermon Road where an on-left was dictated. This was taken ON-UP (again) to an on-right onto La Cuesta Drive and…another…on-up. After dealing with that, the litter was led on-right onto Quarterhorse Lane. (where did THAT name come from?) A short jaunt later we went on-right on Arabian Way. (another horse reference?) This was possibly the only wise decision our hares made, had they gone on-left they would have come into the sights of not one, not two, but THREE police cars. (this week’s featured picture)

Arabian Way will eventually curve a few times and then put you muzzle-to-muzzle with Hocus Pocus Park. We enjoyed a stroll though the park and then made an on-right onto Whispering Pines Drive. Whispering Pines morphs into Scotts Valley Drive after crossing Mount Hermon Road. Well, at least we’re finally headed towards home and are done with on-ups. Not too far along Scotts Valley Drive an arrow led the litter on-left and into a small park surrounding City Hall…and the Police Station, AKA the Hound Pound. Much fun and frivolity ensued as the hares had a number of games planned and cupcakes celebrating Wines Like a Bitch’s birthday. The Flash will chronicle these antics better than any Scribe would ever be able to. Darkness has overtaken us so we undertook the trip on-in to a parking lot beside the Sheraton for Religion.

Once ensconced atop the beer trough, Dung-Fu Grip lit the Religion candle. Here’s a sampling of down-downs, both justified and unjustified, issued the evening: Dung-Fu Grip for drinking an NA Guinness(why would such even be made?!?), our visitor from San Diego was welcomed, Baker’s Dozen’t and Occasional Rapist for losing things on trail, Puff for going to the wrong hotel, Wines Like A Bitch for his birthday, Clearly Not A Hooker for completing 25 trail with us. And the hares…(and the hares). They received kudos for Beer Check antics but no compliment on trail. Just seeing them again made the RA ill so he called for an end to this hash and I hereby do the same for this Trash.

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. Do not allow the profound to be the enemy of the interesting.

A Scribe’s sole purpose is to provide entertainment to their kennel mates. Whether or not they are successful in this endeavor is still a subject open to debate.

By Special Permission 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 eighth day of June in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe