The Rocky Point hash began at o-beer-thirty Friday with Pre-Cum aero-hashing from the East coast starting @ midnight Phoenix time. Thus, he does still get credit for pre-cumming despite some question later about him being DFL on the auto-hash to HBFU’s HBFU, Fist and Just Lisa were next on trail as they eagerly pre-lubed at HBFU’s pad also known as Hash Central. My Name is Chuck would have joined them but he was hopelessly lost on trail having just moved up from Tucson. Victor Victoria and B Flat got a late start but made tracks to almost beat 3IY, MnS and Pre-Cum. Fearing she might in fact be DFL in the first leg of the auto-hash, MnS laid a YBF for 3IY to ensure she and Pre-Cum could get on-in before him. As the pack started the second leg of the auto-hash, Cum Again, Fall Guy and Bush Straddler were already in Rocky Point getting a head (!) start with a pitcher of margaritas at El Capitan. Fall guy, naturally being worried about a fall on the way down, decided they needed to catch a ride with a local. The young driver, misunderstanding their intent (perhaps thinking he was being carjacked by these half-minds?), tried his best to toss them from the back of his truck giving them the ride of their lives (or the ride to end their lives) down the mountain. Meanwhile the caravan led by 3IY and Victor Victoria realized they hadn’t paid their police tax yet, so a stop was made and both gleefully made their donation to the Mexican police beer fund. Once at the hotel, all met up at Bush’s room for the pub crawl. At some point UPMS and Men at Work joined the party, but failed to do anything spectacularly stupid enough to actually be of note here in the trash. Thus, worried that there wouldn’t be enough excitement to write about in the hash trash, MnS made her own fun by face-planting almost immediately out of the hotel parking lot even before the pack hit the first bar. The pack’s vast medical training kicked in sometime after they all had stepped over her looking for any money that she may have dropped, and they dragged her to the next bar to give her a tequila IV. Among the new names proposed almost instantly were: Goes Down Hard, Gravity Check – Cashed, Brick Faced, Drunk Court or Fall Girl. Still reeling from her brush with death and her misguided attempt to match Fall Guy’s drinking prowess, Bush forgot to actually lay trail for the pub crawl, leaving B Flat and Victor to hare their own trail along with late-cummers Can’t Cum on Saturday, Bush Yakker, Meet Me on I-10 and Ceiling Fan. Obviously they failed to see the trail of blood, spilled beer and lost teeth left by MnS.
Meanwhile, the pack closed down the bars and headed to the cold tub, but not wanting the night to end, Fall Guy went to Manny’s where he, having failed to pay his police tax at the border, got to pay his tax at the end of the night. The local fuzz gave him a ride back to the hotel, but gave him the wrong keys when they dumped his ass on the curb. So he spent the entire day Saturday with his new best friend Barney Fife trying to either find the Nissan the cops apparently gave him the night before or swap the keys for those to his Toyota. Meanwhile, the angry 6-pack that got left behind on the pub crawl likewise fraternized with the local fuzz as they found no bars and instead engaged in lewd and lascivious hash behavior on the streets. Having learned his valuable lesson the night before, Victor pre-came 2 hours ahead (!) of the alleged Saturday hash start time to ensure he wouldn’t get left behind again. Thus, the pack proceeded to piss away the day by the pool eagerly anticipating what new injuries or legal troubles they might encounter on the next trail. Soon they were joined by the auto-hashing DFLs. Despite having missed the two police checks Bush had laid on trail, Little Dinghy was still grumpy; whining some shit about being kidnapped across the border by Daily Male and ASS. The pack responded by making him do a down-down for false accusation on trail because we all know hashmen are not allowed to ever complain about being abducted by two hash women! On-On to the actual ROCKY POINT HASH . . .

Rocky Point Hash Trash Chapter 2
The hash, hared by ASS and UPMS, began promptly sometime when the sun was still up (we were in Mexico – who cares what time it was?). As the half-minds stumbled from the pool to the parking lot, every employee in the hotel took a position to see WTF we were doing. The whistle check caused some panic among the locals as they thought the police had arrived. Once hares were away, the pack then proceeded to get ejected from the parking lot by said hotel employees for offending the religious sensibilities of the locals with Father Birmingham . . . Meanwhile Fall Guy, having some inside information gleaned from his buddies at the station, promptly started straight up the mountain towards the first BN. MnS, needing to admire her increasingly purple and black bruises one last time before departing (and not wanting to fall over again during FB), was stopped by the hotel staff who begged her to go get Fall Guy off the mountain before he fell to his death, citing his condition the night before as what they considered a legitimate concern for his ability to navigate his shortcutting bastard trail. Not feeling particularly up to the task, she assured them he was not nearly as drunk as last night and that he falls down as a hobby. Exiting the parking lot MnS found the pack mesmerized by the sight of a local cat taking a shit on trail. Taking that for roughly the equivalent of a starter pistol, the pack proceeded to run backwards for the first 100 yards. As the pack began the serious task of following trail, Bush Straddler, feeling a little jealous of all the attention MnS’s hideously disfigured face was getting, threw herself down on trail making a special point to demonstrate the value of putting one’s hands out first during a fall. Having official blood on trail gave the pack an extra burst of energy to tackle the hill standing between them and the first BN. Upon leaving the first bar, the pack wandered around aimlessly for what seemed like the rest of the afternoon, finally finding a check back leading down a steep, rocky trail to the next BN. The second one – Latitude-something was far more memorable for the throw-down chick-fight between B Flat and the waitress after the latter stuck B with a bill for the free chips and salsa. Trying to diffuse the tension and using some pithy excuse about distracting the pack from watching the hares-away from the balcony, Daily Male gave a voluntary boob-check on trail. Soon the pack was again away through dirt streets and traffic. The locals viewed the hash as something of a Tour de Rocky Point cheering and high-fiving the pack while shouting ‘Look at those Stupid Gringos running around lost!’ in Spanish. UPMS and ASS were treated to their own near-death experience as they tried to lay trail past a military installation but were talked out of it by a friendly local and his M-16. So they backtracked to the last check, marking “Do NOT go this way” on trail, confusing the pack but apparently preventing further injury or arrests for the evening. After a bunch more running, drinking, bar stops and general debauchery, the pack returned to the on-in Captain’s Dinner presided over by ASS in her Navy whites. ASS tried to make the pack sing some official mumbo-jumbo song to celebrate the
Navy’s birthday, but instead the pack broke into a beautiful rendition of ‘In the Navy’ as a salute to our seamen (!) hashers, Little Dinghy, Bush Yakker and Ceiling Fan. Fall Guy talked some smack about being a Marine, but he was drowned out by the hash’s singing of the theme from ‘The Love Boat’. Circle lasted all of about 30 seconds as all the Phoenix hashers cried about the ‘freezing cold’ 70 degree winds. So the pack quickly set off for what was expected to be the cold tub, but on the second night was in fact the boiling pot of hash stew. Fist, worried she might lose her reputation of getting injured on trail, did an impersonation of a seal, sliding from boiling tub to freezing pool proudly banging up her knees in the process. Meanwhile, finding themselves sitting again in a circle, the remaining hashers admired MnS’s increasingly grotesque face and realized they were obligated to memorialize her spectacular feat with a renaming. Many suggestions from the night before were revisited, as well as some new ideas including Bang Me on the Bricks (Bob), Stumbelina (or Stumbelingus), Gravity’s Bitch and dozens more that no one can remember. The group finally resolved that Bangers and Mash (for her banged and mashed face) on Bricks and Mortar – shortened to BAM BAM best summarized her Rocky Point experience. There was some question about quorum and shit – but the two former GMs, Little Dinghy and 3IY, combined with the only Mismanagement representative present, Cum Again, determined Mexican law prevailed and the renaming was in fact official. With hash business complete, the remaining beers were rounded up and the die-hards, not willing to sleep before midnight, set out to find a balcony on which to properly finish the last of the hash beer. The next morning, the hash was awoken by the hotel’s wake-up call system – known locally as Macaws (known to the hash as Ma-cocks). Gradually the pack made their way to Margaritavilla for breakfast and a final chance to exaggerate the stories of the weekend’s events. Soon all were auto-hashing to the border where Bush thoughtfully laid a 4-hour beer stop. Unfortunately the pack’s ability to do proper down-downs was impaired by the lack of decent bathrooms. But eventually the pack departed the prolonged BN and made their way back to Hash Central (aka HBFU’s house) where they retrieved their cars and left for their individual on-after-at-homes. Thus ends another successful PHHH Rocky Point adventure . . . On-on to Hash de Tucson!! MnS – aka BAM BAM *Sorry no visual aids for this one – however many lovely photos were taken by our official photo crew of Cum Again (*after he found both his wallet and his pants*) and My Name Is Chuck that should make their way to the hash photo website very soon . . .