Greetings,

In preparation for another Dung-Fu/Dozen’t debacle, we will revisit Trail 1168, the annual Picture Hash.

We again began from the abode of dBASED and (second) wife Occasional Rapist. dBASED did his best to confuse us with Instructions of Trail. 

The only treat we were treated to this week was Shallow Hole who braved Highway 17 to join us from Silicon Valley and (extreme) backslider Snapping Twat who braved an airline flight to fly in from Austin for a visit. Other than that….well, you’ll understand as this recap proceeds.

The hare-trio consisting of Occasional Rapist, Shallow Hole and dBASED requested but a ten minute lead time. After the passage of such, the execution of trail began as Broke Bench Mountain revealed the picture given him by the hares. As in years past, our first destination was just across Park Avenue at the office of Women Care which, as you no doubt know, is the recipient of our Red Dress Run proceeds. 

Once at Women Care, dBASED was encountered and a picture exchange transpired. Our second destination was Mount Calvary Lutheran Church. Hashers, frightfully wary of trespassing on holy ground, did not know where this building was located. Saved by our cells, we trotted south on Park Avenue to Cabrillo College Drive and executed an on-right. Once there, another picture exchange occurred and we viewed a viewing of the intersection of Park Avenue and McGregor Drive. We staggered back to Park Avenue and turned on-right, crawled beneath Highway 1 and arrived at the designated location.  

While this exchange went well, it pointed the pod into the darkness of New Brighton Beach State Park. This did not bode well, it’s dark and wet this evening and the Rangers would not be happy if we caused any trouble. That being said, stupidity has always been our strong suit so off we went.

After the dangerous on-down from Park Avenue into the parking lot was successfully completed, marker turned us towards the beach along the access road towards the rest rooms. Once there, dBASED informed us a recent mudslide had closed the path on-up to the campground and rendered it impassable to any animal of lesser skills than a Russian Yak or a creature capable of flying. He presented an alternative method of reaching camp site number eight which was our next destination. As we turned back, Dung-Fu Grip said, I saw the mudslide and as long as you don’t mind getting a little dirty or risking your life, I believe the slide area is not insurmountable. He said he was considering attempting to scale it’s height. Courtesy Flush chimed in, I’m a half-mind, I’m a half-mind too! And off they went. So that when necessary we could inform authorities how many people required rescuing, a few of us followed them.   

Dung-Fu Grip blazed a trail-to-the-top and Snapping Twat, Six of Nine, Broke Bench Mountain, Thmp-Thmp, Courtesy Flush and Cold Smegma Kamikaze foolishly followed.

Unbelievably, conquering the crest did not eliminate all our tribulations on this trail. Our next  quest was that of locating camp site eight where we would receive another picture, this time from the so far elusive Shallow Hole. It’s pitch black, we have no map and campers are rather wary of a group of mud-covered maniacs motivating past their camp sites in the darkness so they provided no help. Eventually, after a long and tiresome self-guided tour of the camp grounds, we discovered a dozing Shallow Hole. It took us so long to get here, she said she thought we’d forsaken trail and gone back to the start. This was also the promised Turkey/ Eagle split. 

Since we’ve already handled Mudslide Mountain, nothing could surpass it’s precariousness so we may as well go with the Eagles.

Shallow Hole said the picture of the next destination had already been snagged so exit the campground and look for the ‘Christmas house’. Cold Smegma Kamikaze and Courtesy Flush so did but there was no picture to be found at the ‘Christmas house’ but thankfully those that came before us kindly marked trail. Trail proceeded along New Brighton Road until reaching the railroad tracks where, and I bet you can see this coming, an arrow pointed on-left onto the tracks. Thus began a boring and dangerous jaunt  along the tracks. Eventually the tracks intersected with Oak Trail which delivered us to the access road to the campground, past the (thankfully) closed Ranger station and on-up to McGregor Drive where an on-left was made. Now I’m not accusing Cold Smegma Kamikaze of the act but he told us partway along McGregor Drive we would find a hole cut in the chain link fence that would enable us to shortcut back to the start. It truly existed too and we used such.

Upon reaching Park Avenue and Cabrillo College Drive for a second time, an arrow directed us across Park Avenue and on-right. We passed the start and continued to where the first picture exchange occurred and there, in the darkened parking lot behind Women Care, Beer Check was staged. Upon completion of our business here, the festivities were moved back to the start where Religion was to be but not until Occasional Rapist treated us to her excellent tamales.

 

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Religion was mercifully short. Here’s a partial listing of down-downs awarded: Snapping Twat as a backslider; Six of Nine for collecting a pine tree branch with two large cones hanging down mimicking his idea of a penis, Cum You Will Not for getting lost, Shallow Hole celebrating her 425th Hash with us and lastly the accursed hare-trio. Upon the completion of the grilling of the hares, RA Dung-Fu Grip called an end to Hash 1168 and your Scribe hereby calls an end to this Hash Trash as well.

Lastly, as I will not visit with you again prior to the dawn of 2022, I believe I can speak for everyone in Surf City H3 in wishing you and yours a Happy New Year and look forward to a vastly improved 2022.

The preceding 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 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 twenty-ninth day of December in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe