fiasco be with you trail.

May 11, 2017Uncategorizeddbased

We were warned people………you should know by now any trail hared by Dung Fu at his personal sadistic playground called “UCSC” is going to be brutal. Last year we endured the Himalayan Ski Slope of Rocks in the dark. Why should this year be different?

And yet the masochists showed up en mass at an over packed parking lot with Pinky impersonating a traffic cop. She was forcefully blowing her whistle and violently pointing and waving in order to prevent rouge non hasher cars from taking precious parking spaces.

I thought those poor student drivers were going to 5150 her but they merely scuttled away like forlorn cockroaches.

Finally we got most of the group together, except for Deadliest Snatch and Rat Pussy who can’t read a compass or directions. We were told to “GO WEST” but apparently dyslexia set in and they went EAST! They also do not know how to use a cell phone and call for help.

It’s a shame they missed the torture session.

Trail seemed easy enough for the first 36 seconds………….then we began our ascent….that non stop vertical climb meant to test our steely determination, our grit, our muscle and our mental toughness. We trudged on and up………fighting off weariness and ticks. Thump Thump is oblivious to the pain as he proudly sashays his hips and does the classic power walk strut complete with tight arm movements. Steamy’s tight calves proves that he too can hang. Some runners whizzed by and where never to be seen again…..until Beer Check of course.

For a brief moment we descended and thought we would have a respite……..but hell no.

It gets worse……now we have to navigate the creek/river/rocks/mud/with vertical aerobatic maneuvers that should have only been attempted by authentic climbers with ropes, helmets, and other nifty gadgets.

Up and over downed redwoods caused some serious ball chaffing for some. Good thing I just completed my CPR and First Aid training last week. I was privileged to squeeze some balls back to life and they lit up like fireworks.

Just Foot Pussy and Bacon Queef were incredibly helpful for once in their lives and made sure I didn’t kill myself on trail.

For that I am eternally grateful and will leave something for them in my will……..most likely they will get my prized flashlight collection, plus some useful solar panels, a goal zero generator, a pallet of toilet paper, a bottle of Jack, all my sex toys and my magic wand for good measure.

But I digress and we still have that dark,dank, smelly, slippery cave to talk about. And I don’t mean *&^%^’s V JAY JAY!

We supposedly entered the famous LOST BOYS cave. I really think the cave was a sea cave that has now been closed and was located here:Cliffs, Marineland of the Pacific – 6610 Palos Verdes Drive South, Rancho Palos Verdes, California, USA

(Vampire cave entrance.)

But who am I to argue with Hippy Chick and Just Foot Pussy about Santa Cruz lore??

Most of the bedraggled hashers climbed down that slippery ladder for Beer Check and songs, myself included. I even climbed back up the ladder with a beer in one hand!

Look at these losers who got all dressed up

And then onto Religion….but once again some of us couldn’t seem to find the way home.

This is becoming a theme, a pattern, a recurring nightmare.

Darkness had descended and despite large wooden arrows place by Ms Bacon Q most simply followed their noses and the trail of pee back to the WEST parking lot.

Oh and before I forget…there was this terrible wire fence that created a challenge for some vertically depraved souls. Thankfully we had chivalry on trail and several gallant men offered to assist with the crossing.

CumFartZone became impaled and almost needed metal tools and a rescue squad to disengage her naughty bits from the fence. Alas Vag Repair Kit was hunkered down in the warmth and safety of his den of iniquity still nursing his rash – Supposedly allergic to sulfa antibiotics…but we all know better!

On to Religion and down downs………mostly for backsliders and claustrophobic whiners. We also had a costume contest…some wankers just wore a boring star wars t-shirt, others were confused and wore a STAR TREK t-shirt (wrong movie -and another one who can’t read), one gal came in some inappropriate harem costume that rivaled I Dream of Jeannie and another, Cum something or other, wore the ever fashionable hair buns. And of course Dung Fu sported the requisite light sabers!

I can’t remember the rest as I was shivering too much from that cold,wet creek debacle….and was thinking only of slipping out of my already slippery shoes, peeling off those gross knee socks, slithering out of my poison oak and tick infested clothing and spending the next hour in a hot shower.

So happy trails,

On On

CumFartZone

PS – there is a video footage montage of this trail created by Just Foot Pussy on the SCH3 facebook page. It is up for an academy award so go check it out.

Hash 907: Wishing Wicked and Occasional were Cast Away at sea after this trail…

May 4, 2017Uncategorizeddbased

I love how when the hares ( Occasional and Wicked) say it will be an “easy peesy” trail as they try to lull us into a false sense of security. In the past these “easy peesy” trails have been nothing short of arduous. However, this time we were pleasantly surprised.

In fact it was so easy most folks didn’t even notice they were on a trail. These lame hashers were simply sauntering along, not a care in the world, not huffing and puffing, not even breathing hard……just taking pictures of banana trees, seagulls, selfies and pink dogs.

A few happy go lucky fools zipped right past the most primo viewing spot in all of pleasure point. People come from all over the world to gaze out upon the Monterey Bay, marveling at the surfers, seals, sea otters and the magnificent view. But no…..this recalcitrant sub pack just blew through the beer check like they were blowing a stop sign, or their drunk Tinder date. Guess they missed the rest of us lugs guzzling beer and trying to keep our hats on our heads.

Speaking of hats…..

Poor Fap Jack, looked so dapper at Castaways Bar in his fedora. But a great tragedy occurred along the trail. His chapeau was taken by the wind, a bitter mistress, and sent out to sea never to be seen again. Luckily he can buy another one at the dollar store next week when the welfare check clears.

As the pack made their way back to Wicked’s to start Religion, our other hare, Occasional, had to race back for a near empty bottle of Fireball. Can’t let a few precious drops go to waste, lamenting that it wasn’t properly stored out of sight and it wasn’t brought back by the last person who imbibed.

Speaking of Religion, it was quite a lively affair.

Much singing by most…..although for once in her lifetime, CumFartZone, couldn’t open her mouth……to sing the required song. Major brain fart or something stuck in her throat?!!

How Much Dick Do You Need also had trouble reciting a hash song….must be something in the water or in the beer.

So we taught her….”this is your down down song, it isn’t very long…” blah blah blah….She won’t remember it. Why even bother. She will need cliff notes.

But that couldn’t top the call and response song we had to recite…some African diddy, thanks to our resident Olympian bicyclist, also known as MacGayver.

Puff ruining a perfectly good photo of a sunset

It went sort of like this “a mosa mosa mosa, Oh a LAY LAY…..a bella bella dung gay, a mosa mosa mosa…you get the hang of it now don’t you??!! It was quite a catchy tune if you like that kind of thing.

“When does this get good?”Thump Thump asked in his familiar dead pan voice. I was wondering the same thing while waiting for the Zulus to dance around the fire pit.

Perhaps MacGaver confused his version with the FIFA song. We are hashers, not groupies, not soccer players.

MOSA ASI VOCE MELISA.wmv

Geeze, next are we going to have auditions for The Voice?

Moving on…….lots of down downs for

various infractions.

Drink it down down.... — Drink it down down….

Some intense discussion regarding the mileage…..3 or 3.6 miles…..who cares? Apparently Princess was the authority on trail mileage. Thank god someone other than dBased keeps track of such things.

Some BS about the beer check beer….who serves Rolling Rock in Cali, etc.

Accuprick gave Jizz and his gang – those folks who got lost in the dark last week – shit about missing beer check

(see above), mentioning lemmings and Stockholm Syndrome.

Broke Bench was accused of being loud and obnoxious…can you imagine that?

Timmy whined about pussy……go figure.

Occasional gave unsolicited advice to the “new hashers” regarding keeping things on the “DL”….down low for those not in the know.

Lots of real name calling which calls for real down downs and a tiny butthole song.

MacGaver made accusations to Real Boring Bitch for constantly using his muggle name.

Maybe if those boys had a really nice pretty necklace they would be more inclined to use their scared hash name.

Thanks to our hares, Occasional and Wicked. Thanks for the good eats, warm fire and shitty songs.

On On

CumFartZone

Hash 906: Purgatory Trail

May 1, 2017Uncategorizeddbased

OH MY GOD. (and it’s not that OMG that comes with sex toys)

First, we celebrate Easter/Passover/Spring/All other Pagan holidays, symbolizing Renewal and Rebirth, and literally 4 days later we find ourselves in HELL…or as Hippie Chick proclaimed, “PURGATORY”. I couldn’t agree more.

What were those hares thinking?

That we are all too fat from all that Easter candy???

and we need to be taken on a death march?

The “turkey trail” was supossed to be a mere 3 miles……..but my GPS said it was FIVE MILES.

Most of it uphill…as a reminder to us all that we actually have these things called “hamstrings” in the back of our legs.

And they are probably filled with too much ham from said Easter overload. Easter sprouts for the veggies in the crowd.

So that being said…the tough guys and gals in the group opted for the “BB” trail….only supposed to be about 5-6 miles.

What the hell? Who does the math around here? Fap has skills but I think calculating mileage is not one of them. Stick to knives.

I think the turkeys logged more miles than the BB Eagles.

And you are asking what BB stands for…..I thought it meant BUTT BALLS! Because it takes balls to do a Dung Fu trail and he will insure that you feel your Butt…..or he may want to feel your butt….in either case….it was a real BALL BUSTER trail.

While it was a beautiful trail, meandering along the redwoods, listening to the roar of the river, sweating like a wild boar…it was also a treacherous trail……with multiple water crossing, mud pits and slippery rocks. A few ankles went sideways but we sucked it up to a good time.

dBased is arguably the highest one in this photo

Happily all the hashers/stoners/drunks finally made it back to the parking lot for religion. Some managed to find the earlier beer check…….others managed to have a search party sent out for them.

We started circle with only half the group…while the lost boys and girls stumbled in. And one hasher (Occasional) was completely MIA at Don Quixotes. That’s one way to do trail.

To our delight and debauchery,we had Virgin Pat, who showed us his ass which looked like it had been probed and marked by aliens. And to think I had found him wandering aimlessly in the Capitola Produce market last year. I invited him to the hash and it only took a year and another wanker to goad him into showing up.

We had down downs for back sliders, we had down downs for other shit too….and we had a naming!

Some thing about snakes and plumbing and wanderlust. Maybe someone else was paying attention….all I heard was plumbers crack and snake with no name and snakes on a plane. Puff most likely has the correct verbiage.

All in all it was a great 420 celebration.

Thanks to all who ventured out in the dark.

Thanks to Pinky for the spare flashlight and keeping us safe and doing the head count.

Thanks to Vag for singing his first ever down down song to anyone.

Melody is the Oscar Meyer commercial jingle.

“My penis has a first name

It’s F-O-R-E skin.

My penis has an address

It’s upstairs from her chin.

She loves to eat it everyday.

And if you ask her why she’ll say……

*%$*&###@!@%& (make a gargling noise!!)

BRAVO!

Over and out.

CumFartZone

Hash 905: Booze and beaches (bitches?*)

April 18, 2017Uncategorizeddbased

Yes, the Gods must have been smiling on us as there wasn’t a raindrop in sight. I almost thought I was in the wrong state….or maybe just the wrong state of mind.

Nevertheless, I was looking forward to a little fresh air and a passing ocean breeze to clear the haze of anesthesia. Turns out that I did trail with Big Foot aka Accu…or half a trail because we were ordered to stay off the sand because of our delicate, fragile tendons.

But I digress…the start was a clusterfuck…..tried to park in the lot but Annie and ButtBalls were shooing us away like pigeons in the park.

Guess they really did not want us on their shitty trail. Cars and trucks were being moved and relocated like bumper cars….practically running over dogs, gear and people’s toes! Then we had to play hide the beer every time the authorities drove by. That’s a fun game……..NOT!!!

So after all the re-organization of the vehicles and a little first aid for dismembered body parts, the pack was finally off…..but it became clear that the hares were not on the same page. Lots of different marks going in totally different directions. Of course, DBased was in his element. But we were not to be deterred and we understand the complex nature of their strange marriage so we just forged ahead….shaking our heads.

I found it ironic that the hares, in an attempt not to disturb the caretakers house had marked “shh” in caulk…however the incessant barking the homeowners dogs negated the need for a “shh” sign!??

Another chalk sign attempted to ridicule some members of the pack by spelling “I’m special”. Yes honey we all are “SPECIAL”…..in more ways than one. In fact the whole group is awfully special.

Most of the special pack meandered through the campground, admiring the scenery, the sunset and each others butts. Some found the LC…a tasty peach concoction. And then some Idiot left it on the beach…ARGGGGGGGGGH.

Finally, after an exhausting 1 mile trail, we met back in the bumper car lot to feast on Annie’s buffet of Easter treats. She did go out of her way to make up for the “trail”….by plying us with pastel M&M’s, pretzel mix, cheese and crackers, chocolate bark and some crappy canned wine highlighted by the festive solar lantern. A lovely touch.

Religion was a lively affair….lots of singing and songs and the usual beer guzzling antics.

A another Epic Surf City Hash!!

On On

CumFartZone

April Showers (Hash CMIV)

April 12, 2017Uncategorizeddbased

April Showers are supposed to bring May flowers. However, I contend we’ve already got Flowers, so what did April showers bring us this week? I think just cold and wet Hashers. I always like my Harriets wet, so that is not a bad thing.

Junk Puncher and I left the house at 4:30 before the hash with pre-hash business to attend to. I had not been paying too much attention to the weather and the last thing I heard was Thursday night showers. Doesn’t that mean after the sun goes down? So, I prepared for a coolish weather, but not wet weather. When Junk Puncher and I finally headed to the hash start it was full on raining. I figured, well at least hopefully this is the last wet hash for some time. I had not had the opportunity to check on final hash business and it seemed unlikely the end to remain at Seabright beach, but without intel otherwise I parked there anyway. Junk Puncher and I arrived at the Hash start, Johnny’s Harborside, moments before circle up. I have yet to be inside this establishment and the trend continues.

When circle up commenced I saw Deep Stroke wave good bye for her car. As we departed

I saw Twat did you say wave goodbye too as she stayed at the bar. I imagine Wicked Retahted did the same. Circle up was largely up against the side of the building as Hashers attempted to remain dry as long as possible.

There was a barely recognizable check right by circle-up. I figured this was a bad omen. However, it turned out to be the only check that was washed out.

Trail proceeded up the West side of the harbor to a check at the North-West end. Would we take the tree over the creek once again,

or would it be across the pedestrian/bike bridge to Arana Gulch? Bridge it was to another check at the bottom of Arana Gulch. I figured trail had to go one way or another to the outlet at Broadway. So, I ran a giant loop. As I returned from my giant loop I came up the pack still try to solve it. Well, there was only one way remaining – down the other side of the harbor, and so we went.

A check in front of Frederick Street part resulted in an on-up through Frederick Street park, then another other check as we departed the park. I figured down Frederick St and reentering the harbor. Thmp-Thmp had the same idea and I followed him about a 1/2 block behind. However, this direction provided no results and we to had to reverse course.

At this point trail headed towards Windham and past Seabright to Cayuga and another check. Apparently true trail turned left in Cayuga here. However, I proceeded straight, then left on Pine to return back to the trail and another check at the beloved five corners – the site of many checks in the past.

Apparently trail continued on down Cayuga again. However, I went down Buena Vista, cut left on Idaho and once again caught trail on Cayuga. Cayuga ends above the railroad tracks. There was brief trail above the railroad tracks, then down and across to Pilkington. I was impressed with all the fallen trees behind the Natural History Museum.

A final check on East Cliff and I said to myself and Junk Puncher, the beer check has got be at the San Lorenzo river overlook – and so it was.

Our hares, Pink Cherry Licker and Fap Jack said the timing was excellent as they had arrived moment earlier.

After starting to turn into a Popsicle, I was glad to have my car nearby. Hugh Heffer joined me. Religion was to be held under the Glenn E Coolidge Memorial Bridge (aka Murray Street bridge), near the start. We figured it would take Hashers much longer to get back, so waited in warmth in the car for 10 minutes. As Hugh Heffer and I approached religion we saw it was going in full force. I have no idea how Hashers got there so fast!

Religion was cold because it was so windy, but at least it was not wet. I only remember 3 things there.

We tried to name Just Wendy, but were too cold to do so.
We almost didn’t name Just Chuck, but he got Pansy in the end.
Hugh Heffer got a down-down for New Shoes.
Then it was off to Engfer Pizza so I am told for those that wanted more merriment. I went home to be warm.

I know I have the Surf City Hash record for haring the Southern most Hash in La Selva Beach. I’ll contend it was also the coldest Surf City Hash. I contend I also have the record for the warmest Surf City Hash – a fateful date in Scotts Valley that is so long ago only Puff can remember it. Well, the Southern most record is going to be broken this week when Butt Balls and Little Anal Annie subject us to Virgin Hash territory at Manresa Uplands Campground. Official Operating hours there are until Sunset. Let’s hope the rangers do not come for a visit.

SCH3 Trail #903 Gildas on the Wharf.

April 6, 2017Uncategorizeddbased

Remind me again why we thought it would be a good idea to cram 40 hashers into Gildas teeny tiny bar that really only has room for 6 very thin people??

Oh never mind….it was Timmy’s “bright” idea!

With most of the hashers spilling out into the restaurants lobby and onto the wharf itself, Accuprick decides to set up his famous

brightly colored kinesiology taping clinic on those comfy leatherette benches. Those benches that are supposed to be used by real patrons of Gildas waiting to get a coveted window table.

Cum you may not tries to flee the hobo infested tracks

Dr Accu instructs CumFartZone to lay down on said bench with her ass up in the air and wiggle into some strange position just so he could tape her ankle………RIGHT!!!!!! If he wanted to see her ass he could have just asked nicely.

Meanwhile the Mob bosses, aka Pinky and Fap are frantically trying to round up this unruly group to start this week’s hash by giving us the 5 minute countdown.

Finally this rather large boisterous group assembles on the wharf for the start….and off we go….chasing down Timmy and Occasional Rapist.

Another weekly cluster fuck.

Oh Joy….but this time the group is easily amused by wandering around the empty boardwalk.

Bacon Queef and Pinky find the wooden cutouts of the mermaids, and place their heads atop the fake bodies to show off their coconuts….to the delight of “just wendy” and friends.

“Just Wendy” brought along a gaggle of newbies, perhaps to curry favor with us for her upcoming naming. Perhaps like our home boy Steph (Curry) she could end up with some bonus 3’s….or like Fap she could whip up some smelly curry to fill our bellies with something other than shitty beer.

But no, her newbie friends decide that they can’t do the trail because they are hungry…so they bail out before we even hit the boardwalk. How lame is that! Get some new friends that can hang. Or feed them before the hash. Do whatever you need to do to take care of your buddies….we do need new hashers but seriously….not that badly!!!!

Anyways…back to the trail…that lovely trail which meandered over an elevated boardwalk over a dark lagoon with menacing sea creatures lurking below. Oh, my bad. That was simply Dog Breath waiting for some scraps.

On to the end…the bitter end…..the end that was just supposed to be an easy 3 miles….the end that was more like 4 1/2 or 5 miles…..the end of the rainbow below the railroad bridge.

That magical place where beer and beer fairies abound….along with visitors from foreign countries with strange accents and proclivities.

The end was raucous to say the least. I will spare you the details.

All I remember was some down downs….some BS about missing a bunch of atmospheric river events. Blah Blah Blah.

A good time was had by most.

All the best…….till next time.

Yours truly,

Cum Fart Zone.

Surf City Hash House Harriers

A drinking club with a running problem in Santa Cruz

Hash 908: May the force/farce/fiasco be with you trail.

Hash 907: Wishing Wicked and Occasional were Cast Away at sea after this trail…

Hash 906: Purgatory Trail

Hash 905: Booze and beaches (bitches?*)

April Showers (Hash CMIV)

SCH3 Trail #903 Gildas on the Wharf.