Cum You Will Not,

Lived down to her name for this Hash. There was no cum on trail. Many hashers wish they had not ‘come’ at all! Clarification to follow.

We assembled in a cold, shady and windy area of Jade Street Park. This alone should have served as a forewarning to the flock. Hounds hopped to and fro in an effort to find some sun and it’s promised warmth but were basically unsuccessful in this endeavor.

Here we see First Responders on a quest for some warmth. It was not as cold as it was windy but the source of the frigidity mattered less than the results! Additional quantities of alcoholic antifreeze will be required this day.

Eventually the entire pack assembled and huddled-in-mass but to no avail. The wind speed increased inversely proportional to the decrease in our body temperature. Our hare-pair, that of Cum You Will Not and Dung-Fu Grip, feeling as frigid as anyone, delivered Instructions of Trail relatively close to the announced time. It was stated a Turkey/Eagle split would be available as well as a Liquor Check and Beer Check. There would also be an opportunity to destroy the Death Star but you will need to be able to withstand withering fire from Storm Trooper Dung-Fu as you made you strafing run. Uh, okay. whatever that meant. Hares away.

The next shivering fifteen minutes were spent doing exactly that, shivering! Hounds were hunting for their outer garments. The only one not bouncing to build body heat probably was Hareless whom wore a Star Wars themed costume which served her ably as insulation. Not a second past the allotted fifteen minute lead time, co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain called for Circleup for Introductions and heard cold greetings from the following: Steamy Baanorrhea, Pink Cherry Licker, Hareless, TIMMY!!, Flours For Anal Bum, Rubik’s Pube, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, dBASED, Circle Gherkin’ and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. This week’s canine contingency consisted of Spot’d Dick, Scratch and Sniff, Swamp Rat and Bronson. Junk Puncher is currently on vacation in New Mexico. (lucky dog!) Pack away.

We were told to return to the parking lot and there would find some markings pertaining to this trail. Once there, flour was found taking us onto 45th Avenue and soon to make an on-right onto Opal Street and one block later on-left onto 47th Avenue. Now we began diving deeply into the area of Capitola colloquially called the Jewel Box. This is due to streets named Opal, Garnet, Emerald, Topaz, Crystal, Jewel and Diamond. 47th was used until Crystal where an on-left was dictated back to 45th where we went on-right one block to Capitola Road where another on-right was bidden.

We traversed along Capitola Road until back to 47th where we were directed on-left but immediately on-right to remain on Capitola Road. This lasted until 49th Avenue where we went on-left to merge with Wharf Road. We continued along Wharf Road until taking the on-right on-down into the bowels of Rispin Mansion, across the twin bridges towering over Soquel Creek and into Peery Park and on-right to Riverview Drive. We traipsed quite a bit of Riverview before making an on-right onto Riverview Avenue followed by an on-right onto Soquel Creek Pathway. This would bring us to Stockton Avenue where it was on-left until Stockton ends at Cherry Avenue where it was on-right. Cherry would bring us to Monterey Avenue and an on-right.

We soon crossed Monterey and found the Turkey/Eagle split. The Eagles are heading up to the top of Depot Hill. Doesn’t sound like fun, Scribe will avoid that. However, not too far along Monterey, a hare arrow pointed the Turkeys on-up to join the Eagles. That horrendous set of stairs brought the Turkeys on-up. There everyone had the opportunity to destroy the Death Star by tossing a ball into a bucket while being blasted by Dung-Fu Grip from his laser cannon, AKA squirt gun. No idea what he had filled it with either. More on this during Religion. After dispensing with this fun and frivolity it was on-down the stairs and on-left to a walkway on-left above the beach into Beer and Liquor Check conveniently located right beside each other.

After these two checks were dispensed with, it was on-in back to Jade Street Park. Once there, co-RAs Pink Cherry Licker and Dung-Fu Grip begin issuing down-downs. Here’s a sampling of what they did to the pack: Rubik’s Pube for coordinating donations for the raffle for Red Dress; all that followed through with the Star Wars theme for this Hash; Best Costume Award to Cum You Will Not; Death Star destroyers Rubik’s Pube as best(but was over the line) and worst shot to Steamy Baanorrhea who hit a car parked on a nearby street(!); Hairless whom chose not to spin around as requested for the song Do You Want A Finger? And announcements and on-on-on to be at the Brit. And done. Oops, almost forgot the hare-pair. Everyone appreciated the close proximity of Beer and Liquor Check but little else. This Hash is over.

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 become 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 remains a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-43.

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 ninth day of May in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Monday Comes On Thursday,

Three days late for a Monday and one week late for 420. To further his sad reputation, TIM arrived well after his advertised hare-out time of 6:30. The only upside to this is the reduction in the amount of time we had to deal with him.

I know, I know. TIM is a all-around good guy and everyone likes him. The only exception may be when he hares. He said he was disappointed he could not work another thrilling adventure into Pogonip as a part of this year’s trail. He also said he even discovered a new piece of turf to introduce us to and not to worry about the fact it may involve a stint onto private property. (The hare, being the first through, always escapes, it’s the pack that has the cops called on them!)

So, let’s set the table for this (late) Four-20 Feast. We’re in Harvey West Park using a picnic area without a permit. Baseball and soccer games are surrounding us and concerned parents have fingers poised above the emergency button on the hand-held device should the pack become too rowdy. This has been designated the weekly FHAC-U trail so those jokers are here in abundance. A number of these clowns have not been viewed since last year’s Red Dress Run. That must have cured them of wishing to visit Surf City for quite a while. I can only hope they remember TIM is not a frequent hare for us and that his presence here today does not deter them from visiting with us again soon.

As mentioned, the hare showed up late but still believed he had time for a beer-and-a-bowl so it was approaching the seven o’clock hour before he opted to deliver Instructions of Trail. For a change, IoT was actually worth your time as it was stated money would be required on trail. This led one to believe a brew pub was in our immediate future. It proved true though it was not so ‘immediate’. Hare off.

The next fifteen minutes, though our hare claimed he would only require ten, was consumed with fierce socializing, renewing old acquaintances and being updated on people’s lives. All in all, a rather enjoyable and enlightening time. But as all good things must end, sadly, time for Circleup for Introductions was called for by co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain. This requested was responded to by the following hounds: Steamy Baanorrhea, Flours For Anal Bum, Cum You Will Not, Clearly Not A Hooker, Dung-Fu Grip, Rubik’s Pube, TIMMY!!, Hugh Heifer, Skid Mark, Worm, Shanghiney, Table Me, No Film, Gary the Shit Stain, Snake Me Anywhere, Please Do Me, Pink Cherry Licker, Sister Mary Orgasm, Drink and Squirt and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency this week was Scratch and Sniff, Spot’d Dick and Swamp Rat. Pack out.

Trail pulled the pack through the parking lot to an on-right onto Harvey West Boulevard followed by an on-right onto Coral Street. Now you may be thinking, We’re headed back towards the start, TIM would NEVER consider a trail THAT short! And you are correct, however, never underestimate the deviousness of TIM! Just as Coral turns on-right to morph into Evergreen Street, a hare arrow pointed the pod on-left and on-up the (steep) hill on a pedestrian path. This culminates at High Street. Trail was eventually located on-left and on-up the circular ramp leading to the top of the pedestrian bridge towering over Highway 1. Once across, an on-left skirted the edge of Holy Cross Church and on-right and on-down Mora Street to on-left onto River Street.

Almost immediately though we were directed across River TOWARDS the river! Once across River,(without benefit of a pedestrian safe crossing) the next on-right, Josephine Street was our destination. Josephine terminates at the river levee but that would never stop THIS hare! Across the walkway we went to plunge over the cliff on-down to the (mercifully) dry bed of the mighty San Lorenzo River.

Here’s the FRBs enjoying refreshments of a number of types on the thankfully dry bed of the river.

These thugs would hang on awaiting the arrival of the Walkers.

Then we would reluctantly on-up to the top of the levee again and on-right and back on trail.

Once back on the levee trail proceeded until the parking lot for PetSmart. There it was on-left and on-down into the park lot where the brood spread like butter. We vaguely had an idea as to which way to go and eventually enough hounds found enough marks to bring the gang back to River Street. At least this crossing of River utilized a traffic signal for our safety. Once across, it was on-right one block to Madrona Street. Once turned, our destination became clear, Woodhouse Brewing. And there we were(there we were) inside Woodhouse. And a great place it is too. You do, however, need to be a fan of IPAs as not much else exists on the menu. Food was also available at this venue. After concluding our business here, we were told more trail was to come so TIM was again allotted a small amount of lead time.

The pack returned to River Street to perform an on-left to Highway 1. This time, however, we must cross the highway itself rather than a safely elevated over-crossing. When the light said it was safe, most hashers ran faster than they had all night though knowing the grim statistics of this particular crossing. Once safety was attained, it was two blocks until an on-left directed us onto Fern Street. Just as Fern reaches the railroad tracks the BN was observed and we made the on-right on-in to Shanty Shack Brewing. Here the beer selection is more varied and everybody was able to find somebody they wanted.

Outdoor drinkin’ at Shanty Shack(colloquially called Shabby Shack) was in order on a nice and warm evening.

Flours For Anal Bum, Skid Mark, Worm and Clearly Not A Hooker discuss non-important issues.

Business completed here, it was reversing on-out to on-in to the start.

Once everyone was safely assembled and had beer-in-paw, Dung-Fu Grip grabbed the reins and reeled in offenders for their deserved down-downs. Here’s a sampling of what he did to his kennel mates this eve: Broke Bench Mountain because Scratch and Sniff managed to poop not once but twice along trail; Cum You Will Not for asking at Woodhouse, How many are going in the rear?, we did not inquire as to whose rear; Flours For Anal Bum for looking for her glasses until someone laughingly told her, They’re on your head!(who said head?); Rubik’s Pube for louldly exclaiming at Woodhouse, I’m only here for the meat!(did her husband know that?); Worm who was so intoxicated he had to be pushed along trail in a shopping cart by overworked, underpaid harriettes; visitors were recognized and Sister Mary as a backslider. We were worried the gate would be locked so….oh. The damn hare. We thanked TIM for haring and the beautiful stop in the river bed and the two, count-em-two, Beer Checks but little was said about the trail between those three events. Back to the feared closing of a gate locking our vehicles in the park, Religion was dismissed and everyone trotted to their cars and exited safely. This Hash is over.

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 become 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 facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-42.

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 second day of May in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Spring,

The buds on the boughs surrounding my abode blossom with abandon. Such an event reminds me (somewhat) of one developed by Dung-Fu Grip and his crime mate Pink Cherry Licker. Sending the group to the cliffs along (the remainder) of West Cliff Drive illustrates 1) Their level of chemical incapacitation, 2) Their total disregard for the welfare of their kennel mates or 3) An alarming blending of the above offenses. Allow me to present evidence to support my assertions.

Their usual ploy, as it is with many horrible hare-pairs, is to start at a well liked location to beguile the brood into bliss. Being half-minds one and all, this is a tried and true method of getting the gang to ignore the potential problems that await us on trail. It worked again.

Prelube was at the overlook near the intersection of West Cliff Drive and Almar Avenue. In this particular context, the ‘lube’ consisted of smoke rather than liquid lubrication. This is the type of ‘bud’ I referred to earlier.

As you can see, the majority of we mongrels avoided this particular section of trail.

Possibly the only wise decision many of us would make this evening.

After this drug-inducement was discontinued, the group seen here: Fap Jack, Pink Cherry Licker, Shanghiney, Dung-Fu Grip and Circle Gherkin’, staggered their way to Santa Cruz Mountain Brewery to join their kennel mates that opted to not attend the smoke-out. It was a stellar day, possibly the all-around best one we’ve experienced since October. Sad we allowed it to be ruined by the hares.

There were a number of fun activities transpiring at Mountain Brewery. Owner Emily was even working the bar awhile. Dung-Fu and Shanghiney tried their hand at Jenga. Luckily, it was the small block version so when the 54 of them came tumbling down no one was injured. A number of hashers toyed with what is arguably the world’s largest incarnation of Beer Pong.

This version of Beer Pong was created for persons too intoxicated to engage in the standard size edition. It is also useful for immersing one even deeper into a state of intoxication. In other words, perfect for hashers I dare say!

Moving along…

The food truck, colloquially called a Roach Coach or Maggot Wagon, was operating a brisk business behind the brewery. Food was floating around and was being washed down with one of the EIGHTEEN beers Emily has concocted. Oh, yeah. One root beer available for you teetotalers. Games, drinks, food. Most hashers would be happy with any one of the three but to have all at your fingertips could possibly drive more than a few of us to orgasmic ecstasy.

While none of us wished this to come to an end, much less contemplate what awaited us on trail, the time actually did roll around when Instructions of Trail were delivered. I would regale you with the pack of lies Dung-Fu Grip and Pink Cherry Licker threw at us but I have more respect for you than that, dear kennel mate. Hares-out.

The ensuing fifteen minutes were spent much as the previous fifteen: drinkin’ and partyin’. However, as the old cliche goes: All good things must come to an end and so it was with this escapade as well. Co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain called for Cicrleup for Introductions and as a result heard from: Steamy Baanorrhea, Just Katie, Circle Gherkin’, Shanghiney, Hareless, Flours For Anal Bum, dBASED, TIMMY!!, Cum You Will Not, Jersey Lunchbox and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency consisted of Scratch and Sniff, Junk Puncher and Spot’d Dick. Pack away.

The first check would prove to be all the lead time the hare-pair would require though they were not aware of such. This check was located on Swift Street and the railroad tracks/bike trail. Gherkin’ sounded on-on on-right and the pack took off. We motivated across Fair Avenue and just prior to Almar Avenue the YBF was observed. Incredible! A YBF of over a quarter mile is unacceptable by any Surf City tradition of which I am aware. However, it existed so back to the start we went. Hounds hurried in all dire-erections on a quest for true trail. dBASED was all the way up to Mission Street, Gherkin’ and Jersey Lunchbox went south on Swift a number of blocks. Finally, and I do mean FINALLY, flour was found west along the bike path. Pack away, again, finally.

We went a really long way along the bike path. Mercifully, it’s well maintained so the miles passed easily beneath our rear paws. Just as we neared the (ramshackle) trestle above Antonelli Pond, trail veered off on-left onto the grounds of what was originally a Texas Instruments building. They vacated for more business friendly environs and the building was eventually confiscated by UC. This trail skirts the edge of the pond and ejects you onto Delaware Avenue squarely in the middle of an RV camp. Well, an unauthorized one but a RV camp nonetheless. Here we discovered the promised Turkey/Eagle split. It’s a beautiful day, Scribe will fly with the Eagles this day. On-right we went.

Trail continued along Delaware until it enters the grounds of Long Marine Lab and morphs into Mcallister Way. This road curves on-left and passes a number of government agencies, NOAA amongst them. Eventually we came to UC property, past a whale skeleton and on-left along the cliff towering above the Pacific Ocean. After the jaunt on the cliff top, a gate to enter De Anza Mobile Home Park was reached. This gate never appears to be latched so in we went.

We followed a rather circuitous path through the park and eventually came to the front gate which is on Delaware where a hare arrow turned the troops on-right directly back from whence we had come. This turned out to be a circle jerk of a mile and a quarter. Thanks, Dung-Fu! Emphasis on F-U, Dung-Fu. Opposite where we exited the path beside the pond, an arrow led the litter, now rejoined with the Turkeys, on-right into Natural Bridges State Park. A quick on-left brought us into the parking lot and then on-down into the Monarch butterfly preserve mercifully abandoned as this time of the year. A seldom used path, mainly because it’s so damn treacherous, took us through a field and then onto the road leading out of the park to the intersection of West Cliff Drive and Swanton Boulevard. Swanton was chosen for us but soon an on-right was dictated which evolved into a now closed alley confiscated by local residents and transformed into beautiful excursion through a plant and flower inhabited walkway.

This alley ends at Modesto Avenue where we went on-right and a block later we encountered the wide intersection of Modesto, Chico and Auburn avenues. We were directed across Modesto just for the sheer pleasure of turning us on-right a hundred feet later and down the dank, unkempt Alley 2978. Yes, that’s it’s official name. I certainly agree with the ‘Alley’ part. This…uh…path brought us to West Cliff Drive where we were directed on-right to begin an extended curvy traipse along trail all the way to the scene of the earlier 420 Smokeout Prelube. It was here we discovered the hares awaiting our arrival at Beer Check.

Here we are at Beer Check . Yes, it’s dark. That is indicative that trail was of excessive length. We were all happy to be here, we just wish we’d gotten here sooner. Or easier.

Business concluded here, it was an extended jaunt on-up Almar to Garfield Park where Religion would be staged on the side opposite from Almar as our normal altar was being utilized by people sleeping outdoors these days. As both duly elected Religious Advisers were our hare-pair and we did not wish to hear them expound on their excellent trail, dBASED assumed the reign and took the reins. Here’s a listing of some of the down-downs issued this night: Scratch and Sniff for taking a dump in Circleup for Introductions, Broke Bench acted as proxy; Analversaries were celebrated, visitors were welcomed. It was a short Religion and…oh. Hares. I heard some Thanks for some of the scenery but between the first check and trail length, little else good was said about those two jokers. On-on-on was conducted at Parish Publick House. This Hash is over.

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 become 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 remains a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allow me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-40.

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-third day of April in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Welcome,

To J. J.’s Saloon and Social Club in beautiful downtown Soquel Village, California. This was undoubtedly the only part of this trail that ANYONE found beautiful.

We have come to expect, if not out-and-out demand, trails of tortuous terror and tedium from dBASED. Tonight he outdid himself…and almost outdid the PACK as well. Or is that did OUT the pack?

We were all comfortably ensconced at J. J.’s Saloon and Social Club on Soquel Drive in Soquel when dBASED strode in and immediately began singing the praises of his trail. While standard fare for him he said ‘special sections’ of this trail would exist as well. We have come to realize the word ‘special’ to dBASED does not carry the same connotations to HIM as it does to the rest of us. Special normally means memorable for pleasant reasons to normal people, however, to dBASED it is indicative of events that will make us wake up in the middle of the night firmly squeezing our teddy bear or possibly even screaming for our mommy.

It was with this goal in mind dBASED made his Instructions of Trail announcement. The most intriguing part of which was there would an Eagle only check. We seldom use that particular marking as Eagles are notoriously stupid and easily confused. Our hare, of course, did not care as HE knows where true trail would take the troops. The rest of his instructions were his usual pack of friggin’ lies. We also took note of the fact world traveler and co-hare Occasional Rapist was nowhere to be seen having outed herself ten minutes prior. Hare(s) out.

The majority of the pack spent the fifteen minute lead time settling bar tabs, retying shoes and ignoring the potential dangers that awaited them along trail. Banana Basher, Bacon Queef and Cumz Out My Nose took a different course of action however. They opted to decided how many more drinks they would down at J. J.’s prior to undertaking the dangerous crossing of Soquel Drive and clambering into Sir Froggy’s Pub. More on that later though, let’s tend to the important stuff right now.

With one minute of lead time remaining, co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain pushed the pack through the portal and into a Circleup for Introductions configuration behind J. J.’s. The result of this was hearing from the following: Steamy Baanorrhea, Hareless, Banana Basher, Pink Cherry Licker, Bacon Queef, Flowers For Anal Bum, Clearly Not A Hooker, Circle Gherkin’, Rubik’s Pube, Cum You Will Not and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. We were joined at Beer Check by Dung-Fu Grip. Our canine contingency was at full strength with Scratch and Sniff, Junk Puncher(co-haring), Spot’d Dick and Swamp Rat. Pack out.

Trail went on-left on Soquel Drive, across Porter Street and on-right across Soquel Drive into the parking lot for Hope Church. This building began life as a movie theater and then morphed into the original location for Frenchy’s and is now a church. An intriguing metamorphosis I dare say! On-left through the parking lot and we began the on-up to Soquel High School. But wait! There’s an on-left arrow pointing the pod on-down towards a small stream. In and of itself that is not alarming, what IS unsettling is the poison oak that lines both side of the trail. This is unacceptable.

This trail, such as it is, brought the bevy to a check in the wilderness. Continuing ahead would take us into a beautiful field of grasses swaying in the gentle breeze. An on-left would make the merry members of this madness traipse along a deer trail of both questionable integrity as well as legality. Yes, you’re correct. On-left it was!

This narrow trail, frequently interrupted by encroaching poison oak and fallen trees, eventually forced the flock into a vast field and a gentle on-right beside some houses and through a field of bizarre plants. I was unable to ascertain if they HAVE bloomed or if they are READY to, they are that strange looking. Farther along we encountered the promised ‘Eagle Only’ check. The Turkeys were told to continue forward while the Eagles were given an on-left/on-right option. Circle Gherkin’ chose on-right and on-up a hill of immense proportions while Steamy Baanorrhea went on-left and on-up a hill of no less intimidating size. As your Scribe arrived, the on-on was faintly sounded by Steamy. The check was kicked and on-left and WAY on-up it was. Trail performed a slight on-right and continued until far above the valley below. There, in the distance, the sounds of swimming practice could be detected from Soquel High School. Those people sounded much happier that we Eagles.

Trail continued along the ridge line until Steamy encountered the back check mark. Not far back along trail was another trail yielding an steep on-down. The determination was it had to be true trail owing to the fact it was about the possibility that existed. As we plummeted downward, the Turkeys came into view at a check. The logical option was to continue in the direction the Turkeys had come from and it proved correct. However…..

As you can see to the on-right, poison oak, narrow, cluttered trails and huge hills were not the limit of our hare-pairs cruelty. Shoe-sucking mud was on their agenda as well. As a matter of fact, flowing water was actually included for a short section as well. Everyone survived though and eventually we exited this field of screams onto Hilltop Road. I call it Road only because that’s what the sign says. In actuality it’s little more than a wagon trail. This brought us to a ninety degree on-right to remain on Hilltop and to a check at Vista Drive. Again, poor Gherkin’ chose incorrectly continuing on Hilltop and was forced to backtrack when Steamy sounded on-on on-right onto Vista Drive. This continued until Vista ends at Ranchero Drive and an arrow pointed on-left. Ranchero ends at Valera Drive where it was on-right. This starts another section of trail.

Valera dumped the gang back into Anna Jean Cummings Park, colloquially called Blue Balls Park due to the…uh…big blue balls artwork in the park. We crossed directly across a soccer field more on instinct than marker as it’s very difficult to lay trail through tall grass. Once across the field we were directed across the parking lot and onto the grounds of Soquel High. There were people and vehicles on all sides as Thursday is apparently very popular for extracurricular sports here. Once to the driveway leading to the school, trail turned on-right and on-up onto school grounds. We went through another parking lot and then the litter was led into a large field with nothing more than one huge hare arrow for directions. Thankfully, everyone made directly across to a small dirt access road where another large hare arrow was visible. We did NOT, however, appreciate where it told hasher hounds to traipse.

Between the step on-down, the stinging nettles on-right and the PO on-left, there were many curses leveled at the hares as we negotiated this short-but-challenging section. Once through here, and that was compounded by having to jump a small stream, trail turned on-left and skirted the edge of a field before making a slight on-left and then soon coming back to a check we had encountered much earlier this evening. We utilized this section of trail again but soon were led on-right and across yet another stream and onto some private property. Why not, we’ve broken so many laws tonight anyway, what’s a few more?!? We crossed a yard and went on-left on-up a driveway and came to Soquel Drive. Here was another Turkey/Eagle split. Scribe did the first Eagle and, being no smarter now than then, made the on-right onto the second Eagle. This went but a short distance until turning on-right on-up into a mobile home park. This curved on-left and came back to Soquel where the DGK mark was observed. This was because we were directed to scurry across four lanes of Soquel Drive without benefit of a pedestrian signal. Dangerous!

Once across Soquel an on-left took us through Alimur Mobile Home Park. This place was constructed in 1960 and is not wearing it’s age very well nor are the trailers within. We wove a circuitous circuit through here and eventually descended on-down to Robertson Street where we rejoined the Turkeys. At West Walnut Street we were turned on-left and on-down to Porter Street, across and on-left. Just past Soquel Elementary School, one last hare arrow led the litter into Heart Of Soquel County Park. However, we were taken all the way through the park to exit onto Main Street and then on-right into Soquel Lions County Park for Beer Check…finally.

It was here an (extremely) late Dung-Fu Grip made an appearance. It was completely dark by now and he was without illumination. Many laughs were had over his hashing trail as he apparently crossed from Eagle to Turkey willy-nilly. More on this guy at Religion. After completion of Beer Check, Religion was our goal and back at Heart of Soquel Park.

Here Dung-Fu Grip assumed to role of RA. While this proved hilarious for US, it proved a challenge for HIM. He stated he may be stoned and/or drunk. When someone is incapable of deciding if they have fallen victim to either of those conditions, the obvious answer is that they are BOTH! So, what follows is a disjointed collection of the disjointed Religion conducted by a disjointed RA that had too MANY joints!

First on the chopping block was Dung-Fu himself who awarded himself a down-down for arriving so late to the Hash; Hooker again brought charges of animal cruelty against Junk Puncher who again assaulted her;(has he been neutered yet?!?) Broke Bench Mountain for grabbing two RIGHT shoes; those that opted to stay and drink rather than attempt trail; Steamy Baanorrhea for threatening violence against an innocent, harmless PO shoot overhanging trail; Broke Bench celebrated his 500th hash with us. The hares. Yes, the hares. They were thoroughly cursed for a number of acts of atrocity perpetrated upon the pack, all chronicled in this Trash. This Hash is over.

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 become 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 remains a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-40.

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 eighteenth day of April in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Common Sense,

Would have benefited this trail tremendously. Billed as the No AI Trail in rebuke of the terrible trail of tedious torture the troops traipsed with Dung-Fu Grip and Bing at the helm two weeks ago, it succeeded only in removing the Intelligence from trail and insulted the pack in the read sense and NOT merely artificially. Let’s delve deeper into the most recent Lunchbox and Gherkin’ jerkin’.

For a first, we began this fiasco from Pono Hawaiian Kitchen and Tap. Initially, I thought this was a brilliant move on the hares’ part. A new venue and a nice one as well. In retrospect though, I now know this was merely a place most convenient for THEM and fit perfectly into the torture they had in store for the pack. We should have known chicanery was afoot from what was directly BENEATH our feet.

We chose to ignore this warning sign and blame it on piss poor planning on the part of the City of Capitola. Our bad.

This week heralded the return of Clearly Not A Hooker. She has been out and about but only blushed when asked what she did. Banana Basher attended as well telling more tall tales of his home remodel. Lies. Pleas for sympathy. Jersey Lunchbox brought Virgin Josh then promptly abandoned him to fend for himself amongst people he has never met before and to play a game he’s never played before. This is indicative of Lunchbox’s innate cruelty. Penis Is Good For Me attended from over-the-hill. He said his Hash was up in San Francisco and feared it would be frigid-cold so he opted for us. Too bad the clouds rolled in around 4PM and the temperature dropped fifteen degrees. Even more welcome was a rare quest appearance by old friend Cumfart Zone. She has recently undergone an operation that replaced components of her original superstructure. She hobbling now but will be HOPPING soon.

A mere fifteen minutes behind schedule the hare-pair delivered Instructions of Trail, their usual vague soliloquy, and outed themselves. More on this later. The next fifteen minutes pass as usual; finishing beers, settling tabs and fretting over potential problems on trail. A scene to make anyone nervous also transpired.

After the allotted lead time, co-GMs Cumz Out My nose and Broke Bench Mountain signaled for Circlup for Introductions which resulted in answering barks from: TIMMY!!, Clearly Not A Hooker, Cum You Will Not, Steamy Baanorrhea, Penis Is Good For Me, Pink Cherry Licker, dBASED, Occasional Rapist, Banana Basher, Virgin Josh, Cumfart Zone, Flours For Anal Bum, Dung-Fu Grip and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Big canine contingency this week, Scratch and Sniff, Junk Puncher, Spot’d Dick and Merlissa. Pack out.

As mentioned earlier, the hares has outed towards 41st Avenue. However, a sharp-eyed Banana Basher and Penis Is Good For Me noticed them across the street in the parking lot for the laughingly named Capitola Mall. There’s little left inside that building as you probably know. Therefore, those lazy dogs amongst us, of which I loudly and proudly include myself, headed for the intersection of Capitola Road and Clares Street. Once onto Clares Street, true trail proceeded along behind the Mall. Along this section the short-cutters were joined by the true trail FRBs. Trail soon turned on-left through a locals-only hole-in-the-wall. Once through the wall, a lovely sight was beheld.

Trail left Boob Check along Axford Road and on-right onto Gross Road. In a move to prevent Gross Road from becoming a high speed bypass of 41st Avenue, the City installed a barricade to break it up. The hares put a check here….with absolutely no other possibility except to go around the barricade and continue. WTF?!?

One block later was an on-right onto Virgil Lane. Ignore the No Outlet sign, the hare-pair apparently did. Virgil curves on-right to a locals-only walkway transitioning onto Deanes Lane. A back check onto Albert Lane was solved by FRB Dung-Fu Grip. Trail continued on Deanes until making an on-left onto 40th Avenue. As trail reached Gross Road(again) and was directed on-left, we were ordered to Turn to the Right! dBASED, TIMMY!! and Puff turned to see whom was attempting this misdirection and observed a CHP vehicle, it’s occupant directing a wayward vehicle operator to pull to the side of the road. dBASED thought he was addressing us and took off like a bat out of Hades.

Gross Road(terrible name) makes an on-left ninety degree turn soon and proceeds past Churnside Lane.(another terrible name) The next on-right, Coffee Lane, was marked with a hare arrow pointing the pod along and at the end of the lane LC was observed. We bounded into Coffee Lane Park and found the hares with their typical offering of airline-sized bottles of liquor; vodka or Southern Comfort, name your poison. Here we witnessed a practical illustration of the old adage: I may have to grow OLD but I do not have to grow UP! TIMMY!! and Dung-Fu Grip jumped on the kids swings like they were adolescents again. (film in the Flash) Dung-Fu even gave the tire swing a go-go later too. After the hares’ lead time of ten minutes, the pack exited Coffee Park via a locals-only walkway to steps leading on-down to Catalina Drive. When Catalina ends, an arrow pointed on-left onto Axford Road(again) to a check at a locals-only dirt path. Check solved and it was on-right onto the dirt path which connects with 30th Avenue.

Soon a hare arrow led the litter on-right onto Leotar Circle. Had we a half-mind large enough to have read the street sign, we would have known it was REALLY Leotar Circle Jerk! Yep, we traveled through an apartment complex and came right back to 30th. We continued along 30th across Capitola Road and went all the way to the entrance to Brommer Street Park and there encountered the Turkey/Eagle split. The Eagle trail leads into the park, feels ominous, Scribe will Turkey trail it this night. Turkeys went to Brommer Street, on-right and rejoined the Eagles at the base of the steep hill coming on-down from the Park. Was the Eagle trail actually shorter than the Turkey?!? Here a hare arrow pointed the pod across Brommer. There we clambered on-up an escarpment to a large mesa which doubled as a jump track. And an extensive one it was, too! It had multiple jumps and hills of varying sizes and inclinations. It was more importantly Beer Check this night though. Here the clan coagulated around a selection of Hard Seltzer or PBR. These hares spare no expense when it comes to pleasing the pack. Dung-Fu Grip, possibly embarrassed by his swinging antics and infantile behavior at Liquor Check, slithered away from us and did not attend Religion. The most notable event here was Junk Puncher carousing with Scratch and Sniff and knocking Hooker to the ground! I checked, Merlissa was okay and the Hooker will heal. After completing our business here, it was on-in to the parking lot behind Chinese Village beside the start for Religion.

Once there, we noted the restaurant was still open. Banana Basher went in and asked if his ‘running club’ could rest in the parking lot for a few minutes. He was given permission for ten minutes, a time constraint we broke into fragments. Pink Cherry Licker assumed the reins of control and initiated Religion. Here’s a sampling of the down-downs issued this night: those that managed to trip and fall in the darkness of the jump track; Junk Punchers’ human handlers for letting him knock down Hooker; Visitors were welcomed; backsliders were punished; those that spied the hares doubling back at the start of trail; our two bionic women were recognized and Circle Gherkin’ celebrated an analversary. Oh. The hares. They were thanked for an nice starting point, a scenic Liquor Check location and an interesting place for Beer Check. Let’s just skip trail itself though. On-on-on was at Taqueria Vallarta on 41st Avenue. This Hash is over.

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 become 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 remains a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-39.

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 eighth day of April in the year of our Hash two-thousand-twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Shine a light,

On our annual Lampshade Hash. This Hash tradition was revived many years ago by Butt Balls I believe. It has now become a club staple and is looked forward to by many of us. Next year I can only hope more appropriate hares are selected though. Explanation below.

For the first time ever, the brood coagulated in Beach Hut Deli rather than the usual Hindquarter. There was, of course, no logical reason for this other than to set the tone for an atypical Lampshade Hash trail. When Cum You Will Not and Steamy Baanorrhea are our hare- pair, expect the unexpected. Besides the usual suspects we were graced with the presence of three FHAC-Uers and dBASED’s youngest offspring, Little Spit. She and a friend, Just Alysa, were in town from Portland, Oregon on Spring Break. We have not seen Little Spit since before the pandemic. The beer selection at Beach Hut is superior to that of Hindquarter and the food is highly edible as well. We may wish to consider this as a starting point for other trails in the future. We’ll just use better hares next time. Against State law, our canine contingency was even allowed in the building. Cold Smegma Kamikaze, absent from our midst for a while, supplied us with a Virgin, Lisa. That’s probably the only reason he returned to us. Worm joined us and said he was certain he would not be returning to his palatial estate in Los Gatos this night but would stay in Santa Cruz. Wise decision.

Not too long after the fated time, the hares delivered Instructions of Trail. They were somewhat vague, I assume intentionally so, and left much to be desired. Hares-out.

In the interim, Dung-Fu Grip delivered the Chalk Talk to Virgin Lisa. She listened attentively but most likely retained little.

The settling of bar tabs and the emptying of beer mugs completed, co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain pushed the pod past the door for Circleup for Introductions. This resulted in their hearing from: TIMMY!!, Today Is Monday, Gary the Shit Stain, dBASED, Worm, Circle Gherkin’, Pink Cherry Licker, Flours For Anal Bum, Just Alysa, Little Spit, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Virgin Lisa, Dung-Fu Grip and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency was at full strength; Scratch and Sniff, Junk Puncher and Spot’d Dick. Pack out.

Trail took the troops to Ocean Street where we had sufficient time to consume another beer, this light takes forever. Eventually we did get to okay to cross sign and headed on-up the Soquel Avenue hill. At May Avenue an arrow directed us to cross Soquel(without benefit of a traffic signal)and then on-left to continue on-up the hill. Just prior to Oceanview Avenue the back check mark was observed. Partway on-back, it was obvious trail was to proceed on-up the hill to the mega-mansion and Hash Hotel formerly the home of Last Call Norm and Pearl Necklace. Sadly, both have left this plane of existence. The driveway curves around and empties onto Oceanview Avenue where an arrow took us on-right to Broadway.

A solved check here took us on-left to Caledonia Street and on-right there to Pleasant Street. Pleasant Street is, however, anything but. There is no curb and gutter and the pavement is full of ankle-twisting holes. It’s one block length ends at Pine Street where we went on-right to find a check at one of out all time favorite intersections, that being Pine Street, Buena Vista Avenue and Cayuga Street. This five way collision is both fun and challenging. Marker was eventually located on-right onto Buena Vista followed by another on-right on-down the pedestrian walkway to the end of Branciforte Avenue. You old timers will remember Branciforte originally went to Buena Vista but it was such a dangerous and blind intersection the City closed off this section decades ago. Then it was (back) on-up to Oceanview Park and on-left through the park to Liquor Check.

When Just Alysa, Little Spit and Puff left Liquor Check, Puff carted the offering off with him. More on that during Religion. Trail proceeded on-down to East Cliff Drive where the promised Turkey/ Eagle split was encountered. Scribe cannot even SEE the Eagles, he will take Turkey trail today. Trail turned on-right into a field laughingly called Jesse Street Marsh. In days bygone, this actually was a marsh, an estuary of the mighty San Lorenzo River. The City Fathers, in their infinite wisdom, filled it in. Now it lies fallow serving no purpose whatsoever. This deposited us on Lemos Avenue. One block later it was on-right onto Pearl Street and one block later on-left on Barson Street. Barson was utilized until taking the steps on-up to San Lorenzo Boulevard, across the street and on-left onto the river levee walkway.

This turned out to be a needless circle jerk. We were directed on-right and under the Laurel Street bridge to continue along the levee all the way to Riverside Avenue. It was there, in the parking lot for Riverside Lighting, we located the hare-pair and they ushered us into Beer Check. It seemed we were here for an inordinate amount of time before Steamy asked if we were ready to do the rest of trail. What? MORE trail?!? Yes, it was true, the hare-pair had more torture in mind for us. To insure we HAD to do the remainder of their terrible trail, Religion would NOT be held at Riverside Lighting as it has many times prior.

So, off we went to cross Soquel onto Dakota Avenue and on-left through San Lorenzo Park, turn on-right into the County building parking lot and on-right again at Ocean Street. Just prior to Beach Hut Deli flour forced the flock to on-right into a parking lot and curve around to the Soquel Avenue side where Dung-Fu Grip cranked up his Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued this night: those not sporting lampshades; TIMMY!! for drunkenly knocking the cherry off someone’s joint; Gary for looking like Grigori Rasputin and fueling fear of a Russian invasion; Pink Cheery Licker for rescuing Gary from a potential arrest by local gendarmes; those that found this simple trail too difficult to follow; Puff for prematurely taking the bottle from Liquor Check; Cold Smgema Kamikaze and Virgin Lisa for being DFLs; backsliders were punished; Virgin Lisa was recognized; Cold Smegma Kamikaze celebrated his 175th hash with us and Circle Gherkin’ walked away with the Best Lampshade Award. Oh. The hares. They were told trail was not very exciting. And neither are they. This Hash is over.

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 become 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 remains a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with 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 Twelve-38.

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 third day of April in the year of our Hash two-thousand-twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe