Vittles,

Cold Smegma Kamikaze style.

Let’s begin with his promise of a ‘mystery hare’. After completing this trail, the only real mystery is whether or not there actually WAS a hare at all. Between the recycled trails and gaps in trail marker, Cold Smegma may have merely left the Mediterranean and lollygagged his way back to his house to await the pack’s arrival.

Let’s delve deeper into the mystery surrounding this trail. There was a number of ASS(Appetizer Support Station) stops promised. The only ingredient thereof that actually manifested itself was the ‘Support’ portion. This TRAIL required life support as it withered and died a well-deserved death. Starting at the Mediterranean was apparently subterfuge on the hares’ part to lull us into a sense of well-being. Sadly, gullible Surf City hashers fell for this ploy as they were people both inside and outside the building enjoying themselves. The joyous feeling would fade soon after on-out though.

There was great socializing in the Med and people jumped from group to group both inside as well as outside. Outside, however, was not especially hospitable as the June Gloom moved across the land chilling spirits. Eventually the hare appeared and said he was to be the only hare today. Whomever had agreed to be said Mystery Hare obviously withdrew their support once they were introduced to trail and witnessed first-hand the cruelty thereof. Instructions of Trail were brief and cryptic. This has always led us to believe certain aspects of trail are not finalized until the hare see whom and how many have shown for their trail. Hare away.

Due to the fact hounds were located in three different areas, the hare probably received twenty minute lead time due to how long it took to unite the pack in front of the Med for Circleup for Introductions. Once accomplished though, co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain heard barks from the following hounds: Mr. Wiggly, Clearly Not A Hooker, Occasional Rapist, TIMMY!!, Fap Jack, Pink Cherry Licker, dBASED, Banana Basher, Accuprick, International House of Pussy and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Joining the pack at Beer Check was Premature Ejaculator and Just Andrew, both of Bali Hash House Harriers 2. Representing our four-legged contingency was Boulder and Junk Puncher. Pack out.

A hare arrow pointed the pod west on Center Avenue, across State Park Drive and on-left onto Las Olas Drive and on-down into Seacliff State Park. Trail meandered on-right past the RV and motorhome parking and then on-right and on-up the Beachgate Way path.

The fog pursued us up Beachgate Way and was not far behind as we went on-left onto Seacliff Drive followed by on-right onto Mar Vista Drive. By this juncture, it was determined we were galloping towards Cold Smegma’s home for a return visit. Trail took an unexpected on-left onto Cedar Street. This, however, proved to be the shortest Circle Jerk in Surf City history. At the apex of this misadventure, a person behind you could see where it started and where it rejoined trail twenty feet farther along.

Once back on Mar Vista, it was but a short jaunt to the on-left onto Spruce Street and the house Cold Smegma calls home. Here we supped with him on various vegan morsels(where was Dung-Fu Grip?) and eventually he brought out the big guns or more precisely the big porker. Yes, pork was available for those that consume such. Everyone complimented him on his food offerings but made no comment on trail. It’s not kind to bite the hand that feeds you so to speak.

After enduring one of the longest Beer Check’s in recent memory, the conversation shifted to whether to do the remainder of trail or on-in back to the start. The vast majority of the pack, dissatisfied with trail to this point, opted to head on-in and enjoy libations at the Mediterranean. Mr. Wiggly, International House of Pussy, Premature Ejaculator, Just Andrew and dBASED decided: In for a penny, in for a pound; so they decided to test themselves against the remainder of trail. While not looking forward to such, I believed I could derive some humor from this adventure so your Scribe opted to join them in this crusade.

Trail proceeded back along the on-out route of Mar Vista Drive before making an on-right onto Sea Ridge Road. A check(with no flour for marking) at a road on-left leading into a large apartment complex proved problematic. There seemed to be a rather large gap between the check and the first mark. However, realizing both roads eventually came to McGregor Drive, eventually the mob migrated there and discovered marker pointing on-left and over Highway 1. Let the Death March begin.

Once across Highway 1, trail proceeded to Soquel Drive where an on-right was dictated. This eventually took the troops to an on-right on-down onto Spreckles Drive, under Highway 1 and then take the next on-right to begin the strenuous on-up of Seacliff Drive East. After regaining our breath, we took an on-left onto Seacliff Drive. Seacliff Drive wanders long and aimlessly towards Monterey Bay and then(thankfully) curves on-right once reaching the cliff towering over Seacliff State Beach. Farther along Seacliff, we were treated to another Circle Jerk on-left into a field and parking lot for the beach. The only mercy here is that it was scenic and partway across the field, we could hear the raucous laughter of the pack assembled nearby. We had survived.

Once the DFL Eagles had arrived, Accuprick cranked up his Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued this night: the hashers that visited Accuprick’s infamous Shed for some whisky; backsliders were busted; Mr. Wiggly for breaking a chair at Beer Check; Occasional Rapist was awarded the hashit and Accuprick celebrated an analversary. Oh, yeah, the damned hare. Everyone gave Cold Smegma kudos for the tasty treats at Beer Check but kindly avoided any comments on his trail. Or lack thereof.

This prompted Accuprick to declare and end to Hash 1195 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. One should never allow the facts to stand in the way of a good story. 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.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with the facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind that I recounted the events that comprised Hash 1195.

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 twenty-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