Another Saturday night

Started out like normal (or as normal as it gets for me), and finished in an atypical fashion. Not in a bad way though.

As seen from my balcony, it appears that burning season is upon us once more.
And the morning dog walk revealed that construction on another new house is going at an impressive pace. Once again, though, I’m shocked that people would build right up against the neighbor’s fence. In this case, TWO neighbors. Especially with all the open space available.

Did a boring street walk in the morning and a similarly boring afternoon walk in the neighborhood. Achieved my step goal though, so there’s that. A commenter on yesterday’s post mentioned how the flat land of San Antonio looked like a Texas prairie, but the mountains in the distance resembled a New Mexico landscape. I thought that was an apt description and wondered if there was a Santa Fe nearby. And sure enough:

Of course, Texas, Mexico (old and new), and the Philippines were all ruled by Spain for hundreds of years, so it makes sense you’d find similar names in all those places.

I headed out for darts at Alley Cats at the appointed time. Was surprised to find the place almost deserted with a tournament imminent. Turns out there was a competing tourney at Lagoon on Baloy beach and a lot of the players and staff went there to play. It hurt my feelings a tad that no one informed me about the Lagoon event, although honestly, I doubt I would have played regardless. There were three waitresses present–one was playing darts with a customer, one was keeping score in that game, and the third seemed to be intentionally avoiding me. Yeah, I do flirt with her some, but that goes with the job. Anyway, my initial beer was empty and she never came around to offer another. After several minutes my patience was exhausted, and when I finally got her attention, I just paid my tab and departed. I was not a happy customer.

So, I didn’t get my darts workout to keep me in shape.

I headed up the highway to Cheap Charlies to drown my irritation. Three beers seemed to do the trick. Still, I just wasn’t feeling like hanging out in the bar, even though it was Saturday night. My downstairs neighbor, well, technically her daughter who stays with her, was celebrating her 27th birthday. I figured there would be a party going on, so I invited myself. Stopped in at the 7/11 and picked up a bottle of Emperador rum, the Filipino alcoholic beverage of choice, and headed home. I was surprised that no festivities were taking place, but when I handed over the rum, a small party did break out–mama, daughter, me, and the daughter’s boyfriend. Damn it!

That would be Geraldine, aka Inday. She may look familiar because she has attended a couple of Hash runs recently.
I baked up a batch of cupcakes and one of my helpers deep-fried some chicken nuggets and calamari.

Despite living here for going on three years, I have very rarely partied with Filipinos. One thing that is kind of unique is that they share one glass for the rum and lemon juice drink. Pass it around and take turns. Seems like an odd concept, especially during a pandemic, but who am I to judge? I stuck with beer of course. Anyway, Inday seemed to appreciate the gesture and it was a nice change of pace from my usual nights out.

Once the full moon had risen, it was my bedtime so I said my goodnights and headed upstairs.

Did my morning walk on Baloy beach. The resort hotels were swamped once again, at least judging by the parking lots. On the plus side, I’m glad to see at least this sector of the economy thriving again. It’s all the more impressive because the crowds are almost exclusively Filipino. The downside is that some of my favorite places are too busy on the weekends for my taste. I didn’t have breakfast at Treasure Island because I figured it would be crowded. When I did my walk-by that feeling was confirmed.

Even in the “good ol’ days”, I don’t remember seeing this many people enjoying the beach.
Filipino families were also filling the nipa huts that line the beachfront.

I have a lunch “date” this afternoon. I’ll report on how that goes tomorrow.

Her name is Maria, so I reckon I’m safe.

And life goes on here in paradise.

Deep in the heart of…

…San Antonio.

Yep, you read that right. Our Friday walking group decided to change things up and took a little trip out to a pleasant small town in Zambales province. Gary lives way out there and generously agreed to host our hike.

It’s about a 45 minute trip from Barretto (bottom right between Ologapo and Subic).

I’ve been to San Antonio a couple of times previously. Once, for a birthday party at Gary’s place, and then there was the time we got detained by the Philippine Navy. Nothing so dramatic this go-’round, thankfully.

We did almost 7K on mostly flat ground, not that we avoided hills, there just weren’t any. Still, it was very nice to get out of town and see something new while trekking. It’s a nice area but so far away from the bar scene city conveniences, I think it would be hard for me to live happily ever after there. I was surprised to see a sign that indicated a barangay was named Los Angeles. I was born in LA, and perhaps when the time comes I will move there so folks can say “he was born and died in Los Angeles. Eh, probably not.

Let’s tell the story of my day through photographs:

You can perhaps tell by this Google-eye view of our route that the topography is much different than hilly Barretto.
Six total in attendance for this hike. We were limited by the five-passenger capacity of Steve’s car.
A typical street scene in old San Antone…
Got off the pavement and came across these boys playing in the creekbed…
And then we were out in the wide-open spaces.
See what I mean?
Marching through an unplanted field. We did encounter some corn growing and what I guess is some type of beans or another…
Trails were scarce in places, but we did our best not to trample any crops.
No hills to climb, but we did have to scale this sandbag wall.
The beach is on the other side of those mountains. We saved the ocean for another day.
A river…
…and a river crossing. That bridge literally led to nowhere, no idea why it was built.

And then we came to a fork in the road, so we took it. Then retreated and took a different one…
But all paths seemed to lead us here. It really was the only viable place to cross the water. I was the first to reach this bridge, and regular readers know about my phobia for structures of this nature, but I really did want to make the attempt. Once I tested the handrail and noted how wobbly it was, I decided this would be a good time to test how waterproof my new shoes were. And I’m happy to report that they dried out well.
So Gina took the lead and crossed first without any difficulty.
Steve was next and he weighs as much as three Ginas. He made it safely too, but it was worrisome to watch.
I guess all those years on a submarine made Gary the sure-footed creature he is today.
Scott and I kept watch from the relative safety of the water below…
We regrouped on the other bank and plotted our course homeward.
We found our way through this small village in the middle of nowhere…
The highway must be around here somewhere…
And we made sure to give the Navy base a wide berth so as not to accidentally stray across its borders…
We made it safely back to Gary’s place. One of the nicer houses I’ve seen, but man, the outdoor area is huge and quite beautiful. This flowering roof cover over the patio being just one example.
Gary manned the grill to provide us a delicious hamburger luncheon.
And the beer was cold and wet! A perfect ending to our hike.

You can Relive it here if you want.

By the time we got back to Barretto, it was too late to nap. I showered up and headed out to darts but changed my mind before I arrived. Instead, I crossed the street and had some beers with the sunset at Palm Tree. I made it an early night though. Came home for crockpot meatballs with a sweet potato I had bought from a farm woman on one of my hikes. It was all good.

And so concludes yet another hiking post.

Shoe fly? Don’t bother me!

A full and for the most part satisfying day yesterday. I made a long overdue shopping excursion in the hopes of upgrading my hiking footwear. First stop was Harbor Point mall on the old Navy base. They have a Merrell shoe store that has been closed since the onset of the pandemic. Alas, despite having a tantalizing display of hiking shoes in the window, it remained closed yesterday. I swallowed my disappointment and prepared to leave, then noticed that the American Outlet store across the aisle was open. I’ve not had much luck in that store as they generally have very limited selection. But, I figured I’m here, why not take a look?

Now I wear a size 11 which is either a rare or a popular size here. I say that because most of the time when I see shoes I like I’m told it is not available in my size. So, I was surprised that the first pair of Merrells I saw on display was size 11. Tried them on and they were a bit snug on the sides but had plenty of toe room. They were half price so I took them hoping for the best. The clerk brought another pair of size elevens over, some brand I have never heard of, but I figured they would make good “everyday” shoes. They were also half price. Also found some Jockey briefs in my size, another rare find here. Success!

Took my new purchases to the car, then headed to the SM mall next door. In a JCPenney-like department store, I was happy to see a whole section of Merrell’s on display. Of course, only one of the styles was available in my size. I liked the look and they were comfortable, so I bought them along with a pair of Skechers I fancied. Picked up some socks and shorts too.

My new shoes. And no, despite appearances, I’ve not gone into full Imelda Marcos mode.
My new shoes are replacing these old ones I’ve worn out through heavy use.

After completing my shopping expedition, I told my driver I was hungry for some Korean food. He took me to a place on the old base I had never even seen before.

I’ve heard that name somewhere before though…
And the view from inside was oddly familiar too…

It had been a long, long while since I had dined at a Korean joint and I was really jonesing for some samgyeopsal. I also noticed they had bulgogi the way I prefer, in a stew. I ordered up a bowl of that too. I was more than a little surprised to see that the side dishes that make a Korean meal Korean, were only provided a la carte–you had to pay for each one separately. What kind of insanity is that?

I ordered up my three favorites anyway. The kimchi was nice and spicy and the macaroni salad was quite tasty as well.
I ordered the thick cut of samgyeopsal. Honestly, it was a little disappointing. Not flavorful at all.
But the bulgogi made up for it. Best I’ve eaten outside of Korea.

The staff was all Filipino, so my attempt to practice up my Korean was wasted. Oh well, I’ll be back “home” one of these days.

The other big happening for the day was my solitary Thursday walk. I always try to make that one a little longer than usual. I was quite surprised that the walk came in at exactly 12 kilometers, door-to-door. What are the odds of that?

The proof is in the pudding. Well, in my tracking app anyway.

I decided to photograph street scenes on the highways, byways, and pathways I traversed during the walk. Here they are:

On the National highway…
A street scene in Calapacuan.
A view from the Govic highway…
On the road to Naugsol…
Sawmill Road at bridge #4.
A pathway through the valley…
A backstreet in San Isidro…
Almost home on Alta Vista Drive.

Here’s the Relive version:

https://www.relive.cc/view/vevYXJooryq

For some reason on my pleasant but lonely hike, I remembered this Sara Teasdale poem:

A diamond of a morning
     Waked me an hour too soon;
Dawn had taken in the stars
     And left the faint white moon.
 
O white moon, you are lonely,
     It is the same with me,
But we have the world to roam over,
     Only the lonely are free.

There are worse fates than being alone!

So, it was a good day. How about I close out with something humorous and something political? Hell, it’s getting hard to tell the difference these days!

I’ve noticed this is spot on those occasions I engage my lefty friends on Facebook. Total waste of time, especially when they resort to “whataboutisms”
I have more Native American blood than Elizabeth Warren, so this was especially funny to me.

And as a bonus, here is something very insightful about how relationships work here in the Philippines.

You are welcome. Be careful out there!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjpP0Qx0ph8

Follow the leader

I was drafted to set the trail for our Wednesday Walkers group. I didn’t have any fresh ideas so I just resorted to doing My Bitch, then a descent into the valley, and around about on the GOVIC highway back to Barretto. A little over 8K all told, mostly flat. The only real “excitement” was attempting a new way down, losing the trail, then blazing our own until we reached a creekbed for easier going. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Anyway, it was not that big a deal. Well, Steve and Gary both fell on the trailless downhill and there were some red ant bites, but otherwise, it was all hunky-dory. Here are some photos:

Follow me!
The largest turnout we’ve had in a while…
A pleasant day for a hike..
My Bitch is not particularly challenging…
…which allows you to just enjoy the great outdoors.
Resting up at 4 Corners…
Picture time…
I think it came out pretty well…
Would you like some cookies, little girl? (yeah, that sounds f’d up. For the record, I only give out the sweets when a parent is there and approves)
Scott getting a helping hand from Steve as he deals with a dropoff…
This woman marching along the trail with those poles on her shoulder was pretty impressive.
The mountain family’s house is another My Bitch landmark…
The Old Man’s house used to be, but neither the man nor the house exists anymore.
That part of the trail where there no longer was a trail. We all found our way down though.
Thank you for keeping us safe, Mother Mary.
Not sure what these are but they were in abundance.
Almost down…
At last, we are in the warm embrace of the valley.
Back on pavement…
Over the bridge we call #3.
There is something familiar in this photo…
Hiking the highway…
Entering Santa Monica subdivision…
And exciting onto the National Highway…
What? You’ve never seen a dog being bathed on a tricycle alongside a major highway? Welcome to the Philippines!
Chillaxin’ at Cheap Charlies after our not-so-challenging jaunt…

Relive it if you want:

https://www.relive.cc/view/v8qkjBDrR36

It was a nice hike and the highlight of an otherwise mundane day. More to come tomorrow!

Null and void

Tuesday is my nothing day. Which leaves nothing to post about. Like THAT will stop me!

I did visit the immigration office in Olongapo and they graciously extended my stay in this fine land for another 60 days. Only paid 3100 pesos for the privilege.

Went to Royal for groceries. As usual, they had some things I wanted and didn’t have others. But it is astounding to me what I’ve been paying for groceries of late. Yesterday my tab was over 20,000 pesos ($400.). That’s for one week’s worth of stuff. I suspect the help is filling the shopping cart with items that ain’t for household use. For example, I noticed a bottle of men’s shampoo and asked what that was for. Teri said she wanted to give it a try. Hmm, that sounds like bullshit. Probably for some guy friend. Anyway, it really pissed me off. I haven’t said anything yet, but next week I’ll carry a shopping list to the store and leave them at home. We’ll see what my bill is then. I’m thinking about making some other changes as well. More on that once I decide.

Fended off a couple of new requests for me to give what remains of my money away. Saying no consistently does get easier. I honestly don’t understand the mindset of these ladies. In one case, it’s a gal I’ve known for quite some time. In the past, I even expressed some interest in dating her but that interest was never reciprocated. That’s fine, a friend is good too. Anyway, I have NEVER received any messages from her at all until this one yesterday:


Good afternoon jhon,,I’m going to Big Face to you right now.. Can i have big favor to you please Can you help me even 5k-6k pesos. Even put some interest but not to high can i pay weekly payment. Because i really need and I’m going to join for COOPERATIVE so i can loan for my Bussines. Please help me Thank you and I really appreciate that.

I ignored her and so she repeated her request. Twice more in fact. I finally just responded “I’m sorry, can’t help” and she graciously accepted that response. But had she sent a message asking me: how you doing, saw your post, wish we could go hike together sometime, want to do lunch? type of thing and then after we got together, she sprang her money plea, I might have been more receptive. Up your begging game, girl!

Walked into town to cash up at the ATM and then headed to the vape shop for some supplies. Stopped into McCoy’s for a couple of beers, then headed over to Alley Cats for some darts. Shouldn’t have bothered. Despite having a good partner, we were eliminated in the third round. A frustrating night at the oche for sure.

One good thing about being eliminated early I suppose was I had plenty of time to go out and get myself some dinner.

I opted for my weekly fix of pork chops at Mango’s. As good (or better) than they look!

And that was pretty much it for the day.

A friend posted this on Facebook and I thought you English speakers might enjoy reading it. I did at least. It’s kind of long, so scroll on past if you prefer:


Why English can be difficult:

Homographs are words of like spelling but with more than one meaning.
A homograph that is also pronounced differently is a heteronym.
You think English is easy?

I think a retired English teacher was bored…THIS IS GREAT!
Read all the way to the end… This took a lot of work to put together!

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.
2) The farm was used to produce produce.
3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
4) We must polish the Polish furniture..
5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.
6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert..
7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.
8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.
9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
10) I did not object to the object.
11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
13) They were too close to the door to close it.
14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.
15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.
16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
17) The wind was too strong for me to wind the sail.
18) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear..
19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
20) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Let’s face it – English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France . Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth, beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.
PS. – Why doesn’t ‘Buick’ rhyme with ‘quick’?

You lovers of the English language might enjoy this.
There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is ‘UP.’
It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP?
At a meeting, why does a topic come UP?
Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report?
We call UP our friends.
And we use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver; we warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen.
We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car.
At other times the little word has real special meaning.
People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses.
To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special.
A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP.
We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night.
We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP!
To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look the word UP in the dictionary.
In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4th of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions.
If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UPis used.
It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don’t give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more.
When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP.
When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP.
When it rains, it wets the earth and often messes things UP.

Anyway, I’ll just link to this article on the “30 sayings most people don’t know they’re using incorrectly”. Most of them seem obvious, but I’ll confess there were three or four that I might have messed up on occasion.

And that brings us to meme time. Here you go:

Perhaps I’ve posted this one before, but it seems true now than ever!
When I read some of the shit going on back home, I just change the word white to black. That’s how I can determine if it is racist. It always is.
Me too!

That’s probably as good a place to end this post as anywhere. Except maybe after the first paragraph.

Hasta la vista!

Hashing it out

Made it through another Hash alive. But before I get to that, here’s a quick update on the “mama” situation. The landlady gave me back half my money and says if and when she rents the place again she’ll give me the other half. That’s more than I expected. I saw mama last night camped out near the local 7/11 store and I provided her the standard 100 pesos to buy food. We did our usual greetings and acted as if the room thing never happened. So, it appears that all is well and right with the relationship.

To the Hash then. We had nine folks in our “lame, lazy, and sane” group. We met up and headed out for the trail an hour before the official start time. In fact, we walked from our meetup to the trailhead, thereby adding about 1.5 kilometers to the original trail. We fixed that by shortcutting one of the loops of similar length–the one going down the mountain then back up again. It’s always a hard climb when you do the big mountain, but our version of the trail was just about right–one big up and one smaller one. With our earlier start and our shortcut, we arrived On-Home just about the same time as the first runner returned. The beer flowed, I ordered take-out from Sit-n-Bull, and all was good.

Here are some photos for your viewing pleasure:

The green line is the trail that Leech My Nuggets laid. The purple shows our enhancements.
The “WHIOW” group (We’ll Hash It Our Way) waiting to get started. A fresh coat of asphalt had just been laid (you can see the rolling machine above). The road was still hot and sticky as we commenced our hike.
And we are On-On the wet asphalt.
We arrived safely at the official starting point of the trail. The main body of Hasher’s would follow an hour later in the Hashmobile…
Let’s get this show on the road!
The climb began with some steps…
Lots and lots of steps.
The steps gave way but the climb was just beginning…
Then we did a diagonal walk across a jagged rockface.
Even within our small group, you’ve got the fast ones and the rest of us. Nice of them to wait on us though…
Finally made it to the top of our first climb, only to encounter a dreaded checkpoint. We sent someone ahead to find the true trail while we rested.
Yep, I do believe this must be the right trail! Props to Leech for always making his intentions known.
I always find it disconcerting to be going down in the wrong direction (which means we’ll have to climb back up), especially after just completing a tough uphill.
But passing through this yard did afford the opportunity to make a cookies delivery…
Another thing about downhills, they can be treacherously slippery. Just ask Pubic Head after this fall. He must have skidded five yards after landing on his ass.
But the good news is he got back on his feet again and carried on…
Geraldine, one of our newer Hashers, seems to be enjoying herself…
At least the second climb was mostly steps and not too long…
Back up top with a view of home…
“The beer is thataway! Let’s go!”
Coming back down the mountain…
Nosey Bastard is heading for our On-Home at the VFW…
And Buddy Fucker ain’t far behind…
Be careful, Geraldine…it’s slippery!
At last, the final few steps of our downhill journey…
It does tend to be more scenic on the mountain though…

Anyway, it was a good trail, hard but not insane. Feel free to Relive it:

https://www.relive.cc/view/v8qkjBYxy36
It’s showing 9K because I started the tracker from my house. The actual trail was around 7.5

An interesting side note, by my count there were at least three other groups from the Subic Hash yesterday doing their own thing on the mountain. People seem to be voting with their feet. Maybe it’s always been that way. The feedback I’m getting from long-time members is to just keep on doing what we are doing without making it an “official” alternative. That’s fine with me. Vienna Sausage (Guenter) is the Hare again next week so I will once again be free to roam as I please.

Keep on Truckin’ everyone!

Paved with good intentions

As I related in yesterday’s post, I rented a room for the homeless woman I call “mama”. The first month’s rent and a security deposit set me back 6000 pesos ($120.). A small price to pay to make a difference in someone’s life and I was happy to do it.

Late in the afternoon yesterday, I headed out for some liquid refreshment at Cheap Charlies. And lo and behold, mama was sitting under her ever-present umbrella right outside the stairs to the bar. I gave her the good news and told her to stick around for a bit. I contacted my Filipina friend who had found the place and asked her to join us. Once she arrived she contacted the woman getting extra keys made so we could take mama home. Soon enough, we were all in a trike on the way to Baloy beach.

Upon arrival, we showed mama her new place, demonstrated how the lock worked and where to turn on the lights. We also told her that in the morning we’d come back with a bed cushion, a shower curtain, a fan, and anything else needed for her comfort. My friend told her she would help give the place a good scrubbing as well. Then we invited mama to join us for dinner.

Mama at the dinner table. In retrospect, she does look a little pensive.

Dinner conversation was light and mostly in Tagalog. I did learn that mama is 68 and was very popular back in the days when Subic was a regular port of call for the US Navy. I think I heard her say that at some point she was married to a Marine. After we ate, we walked back to mama’s new place. I wanted to be sure she could open the door and turn on the light (you have to plug it in before hitting the switch). She managed that just fine and so we reminded her we’d be back in the morning to fix the place up some and said our goodnights.

On the way out, we saw Gerlie, mama’s new neighbor and a friend of mine. She invited us to join her for a beer, so we sat on her porch and enjoyed a cold one. Before I finished that beer, the words Kevin Kim left in a comment on an earlier post echoed in my brain:


Keep in mind that many homeless folks get so used to living on the street that, when they’re gifted with lodging, they fail to maintain their domicile and/or abandon it completely. Some habits are too deeply ingrained, and for the benefactor, the whole thing becomes a waste of money and time. I suspect that “mama” will need some constant supervision if this project is to go well and smoothly.

Back in my more bleeding-heart days, I did a lot of work with the homeless in the DC-Metro area. There’re tons of homeless folks in and around my hometown of Alexandria, Virginia. Most of them have some sort of mental/psychological condition, which is what often compels them to fuck up a good thing. As much as I’m a believer in free will and personal responsibility, I know that some compulsions are powerful and extremely hard to beat (viz. me and overeating). They CAN be beaten, but it takes time, effort, focus, and the care/support of other people to help one along.

Upshot: I’m not optimistic that giving “mama” a home will solve whatever you perceive her problems to be. I mean, I might be totally wrong, but experience and instinct both whisper that I’m probably right.

A few minutes after we left her, mama walked up and held out the key to me saying “I can’t do the lock”. I said I’ll help you with that and she responded “no, I don’t want.” I told her to keep her key (I’d put it on a necklace so she wouldn’t lose it), I’d use my key to lock up for her. She repeated, “no, I don’t want.” You don’t want to sleep there, I asked? “No, papa.” Why don’t you try it for a few days and see? “No papa, I don’t want.” She handed me the key and walked away. Alright, then.

Okay, I figured it was a 50-50 chance it wouldn’t work out. But I was surprised she didn’t even want to give it a chance. Granted, it’s a pretty crappy room, but still, you’d think it would be better than sleeping on the street. Apparently not, at least in mama’s tortured mind. Kevin’s thinking proved to be spot-on; sometimes the people you think you are helping don’t want to be helped. And really, one of the things I have always admired about mama was that she seems genuinely happy whenever I see her. Perhaps I was foolish to think I could make things better for her. Although in my defense, she did tell me when I asked that she would like a place of her own. Heh, maybe she was thinking it would be fancier. Who knows? I don’t regret trying. And if any of my readers are looking for an inexpensive place to stay close to the beach, let me know!

My dreams of upgrading my own accommodations hit a snag when the agent for that house I like advised that the owner was not interested in renting it out, only selling. Oh well. I do think I’ll email the owner directly and ask, the agent has a financial interest in making a sale. The owner might find a long-term lease more attractive than a house that has been sitting vacant for over a year now. We’ll see.

The day wasn’t a total loss though. I had a nice 8K solitary walk in the morning. I did that 1000 step photo thing again:

Buday, my step-dog (she adopted me) greeted me as I left the house.
1000 steps in and Easter mountain looms large.
2000 steps as I exit Marian Hills…
3000 steps and I see a shell.
4000 steps and I admire the perseverance of those less fortunate than I.
5000 steps and I’m on Sawmill road…
6000 steps is a field of dreams.
7000 steps going over the river…
8000 steps going home…
9,000 steps–but not this one.

You can Relive that walk here if you are so inclined.

And here we are with another Hash Monday upon us. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare and he has a 7.5K trail lined up. I will be short-cutting at my discretion, but I am walking to the start which adds about 3K,. So, subtracting one of those hills should even things out some.

And so it goes.

And that’s the tall and skinny on this post.

What’s the point?

Well, it’s the sharp end of the dart that sticks into the board after you throw it.

That’s the points. Old and new.

My darts are a few years old now and over time the points wear down. I tried sharpening the tip and putting a patina on the stem with sandpaper, hoping to get a better grip on the board. All to no avail. My darts were falling out of the board with increasing regularity and a dart that falls out doesn’t count. This phenomenon actually caused me to lose a couple of games recently. At first, I blamed the dartboard but then someone told me I needed to replace my points. Who can do that, I wondered? Ask Cristy was the response. So, that’s just what I did. She had the equipment to do the job and an extra set of points, so the deal was done. And the best thing about it was she did the work in time for my singles league match yesterday. Against Cristy.

Speaking of Cristy, I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that she is currently the best player in Barretto. In fact, through 13 weeks of the inaugural singles league season, she has never lost a match. Until yesterday, that is.

This is how it started.

A game starts with a diddle (some call it a cork) to determine who throws first. The closest dart to the bull gets that privilege. My first dart was a bullseye. So was Cristy’s. I threw again and hit another bullseye. So did she. My third throw (I’m the black darts) was just above the bull and Cristy’s was a bit further away, so I got to start. Not that going first makes a big difference at the amateur level of play, but our battle for the right to start was indicative of how we would fight each other throughout the afternoon.

It was a hard-fought match and we both played well. I think we were both a little surprised by the outcome. It really helped that my darts were sticking in the board. Thanks again, Cristy!
Here are the current standings from the Barretto Singles League.

In other news, I rented a place for “mama” today. It’s 3000 pesos a month and includes electricity and water. It’s off Baloy beach road in an area where “mama” has been known to frequent. In fact, the landlady and one of the neighbors I’m friends with both know of her. My friend has promised to help keep an eye on “mama”. There is an eatery on the corner that “mama” has visited as well, so hopefully she’ll feel at home in the neighborhood.

The view from the outside. It’s one of two places under that tin roof. Hers will be the unit in the back.
And there it is in all its glory. It reminds me of a prison cell to be honest. Still, it’s gotta be better than sleeping on the street.
At least there is a CR (comfort room in local parlance). Now she will be able to poop in peace.

Anyway, I’m getting some extra keys made. I’ll leave one with the neighbor and I’ll keep one. I’ll get a cushion to go on top of the wooden bed frame and a shower curtain for the CR. Probably pick up a plastic chair while I’m at it. I expect “mama” will still spend most of her time on the street, but at least she’ll have a safe space to sleep in. If she adapts well and actually uses the place as intended, I’ll spring for a small refrigerator and any other appropriate creature comforts. Commenter Kevin noted when I mentioned this plan that when it comes to housing the homeless, good intentions are rarely enough. People become homeless for a reason. That may very well prove to be the case with “mama”. Still, I saw her on the street last night and told her I was looking for a place and she was very excited at the prospect. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I’m not out much if she winds up preferring the street life.

Speaking of rentals, I’m not sure how serious I am about moving when my lease expires. I like the Alta Vista lifestyle and I’m comfortable enough where I am, I suppose. But there is a house for sale up the street that I think I’d like to live in if the owner (who I understand lives in the Netherlands) is willing to do a long-term lease. I’ve got his email address now so I’ll shoot out an inquiry and see what happens.

It’s brand new and never been lived in. What I really like is that big open-air covered deck up top.
Here’s the backside of the house.

I’ve never been inside, but I’m sure it has at least three bedrooms and all the space I need. And the view from that deck must be spectacular. There’s a house under construction across the street that I walked through this morning, and this is the view from upstairs:

Actually, my view would be one story higher and even better I’m sure.

Well, it’s nice to dream. We’ll see what happens.

That’s about it from here. Except for the crap I’ve been posting on Facebook.

Like this fine piece of artwork. It really speaks to me on so many levels.

Nothing like having the freedom to post what you want, just to get the dialog going. Right, Wokesters?

Or maybe not.

I’ll be back with more tomorrow. Thanks for dropping by!

A stabbing sensation

The Friday walking group has a sense of adventure. Or at least we try to by changing things up some and looking for new or little-used trails. Preferably outside of our usual stomping grounds. And that’s just what we did yesterday. Loaded up the eight of us in the Hashmobile and drove out to the Naugsal barangay to climb a new mountain. Well, it was new to me at least. A couple of the old-timers had last been up this way five years ago.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but adventure is a two-edged sword. Sure, you get the excitement of seeing and doing new things. But you also sometimes encounter the unexpected, leading to the inevitable unanticipated consequences. We dealt with a lot of the latter yesterday.

Things change over time. This became abundantly clear near the beginning of our hike when our trail leaders could not find the way up the mountain they had used all those years ago. So, we found an alternative trail of sorts to climb and thus began our adventure.

It was a long, hard, and steep path to the top of the mountain. It took about an hour to do that one-kilometer climb if that gives any indication of how difficult it was. The trail appeared to be little used as well. One thing I noticed early on was that there were no shanties or shacks or other signs of people spending time up there. Another thing that stood out was the absence of litter, which is pretty much unheard of in this country. In retrospect, that should have been a warning sign. Near the top, there were a couple of piles of harvested thatch grass waiting to be carried back down. Other than that, no indications that people spent time up here. At the time I thought that was a nice change from the ordinary. And despite the challenging climb, I was really enjoying the new vistas and perspectives.

Once we reached the top, our trail leaders fanned out in search of the true trail we were aiming for but there was nothing to be found. So we commenced hiking along the ridgeline keeping our eyes peeled for a trail down the other side of the mountain. This effort was stymied in large part because the thatch grass up top was taller and thicker than any I’ve encountered previously. Eventually, we came across something with a path-like appearance and given the lack of viable alternatives, decided to see where it might take us.

It wasn’t long before it became apparent that what we were on was not a human-made path, instead, it was the way that water found to travel down the mountain. Eventually, we found ourselves in an actual creekbed. Those are generally a pain in the ass to traverse and this one was no exception. Several times we had to climb up and around nature’s obstacles in the watercourse. And still no sign of an actual trail made by and for human beings. Despite our hike becoming more of an ordeal, no one wanted to turn around and go back from whence we came. We all agreed that the nightmare behind us could be no worse than whatever might still lay ahead. So on we plodded.

That thatch grass is always a bitch to walk through and sometimes will leave scratches and/or itches. But in the creekbed, we were constantly getting tangled up in vines and roots that would trip us up. Even worse, some of those vines were covered in sharp thorns that hurt like a motherfucker when they stabbed you. It was also a very steep descent in places which made for really slow going. I managed to keep my feet somehow, but poor Scott went down three times that I saw. Once was perilously close to a drop-off that would have definitely ruined his day had he gone over the edge.

I’m writing this so that’s a pretty good clue that I survived. So did everyone else. Near the bottom of the mountain, we did finally come across a path that led us back to civilization. It was one of the hardest trails I’ve ever done. It was only a bit more than 6K from beginning to end, but it took us over 3 hours to complete. That’s slow, even for me!

What’s an adventure without photographic evidence? Here you go:

Our adventure as seen by Google’s eye in the sky…
We rode the Hashmobile from Barretto to our starting and ending point.
Let’s get this show on the road!
Easter mountain from ground level.
Little did I know these kids would be the last sign of humans I’d see for hours. Well, other than our group, of course.
Into the wilderness.
Bloody hell! This is a steep climb…
…and seemingly never-ending.
Some nice views from up top though.
Hello again, Easter mountain.
Trail? You call this a trail?
Max says he don’t need no stinkin’ trail…
Goodbye for now, Easter mountain. Be seeing you around.
Hiking the ridgeline…
Still plodding on in search of a way down.
Seven of our hikers.
I’m the 8th hiker. That’s my “I’m loving this adventure” face…
Getting our bearings beneath the power line tower…
Nope, no trail up there either…
That’s the other side of the mountain, we need to go the opposite way…
Did I mention the thatch grass was tall and thick? I think that’s why we found the creekbed so appealing. At first.
Scott managing one of the pitfalls (literally) of creekbed hiking…
Color me graceful…
What the hell? You found a REAL trail, Jim? Litter and everything!
And it eventually led us to some real live people! I thought I’d carried those cookies for no reason. You can see the daddy has been working hard gathering thatch grass…
Getting close to civilization…
A sari-sari store stop for refreshments.
The final kilometer along the river and back to the truck.

And so ended our adventure. How whipped was I? Well, I didn’t do the traditional after-hike beer stop. That should give you some indication.

Next week we are going all the way out to San Antonio for our Friday hike. Scott promises it will be a flat and adventure-free trail. We’ll see.

UPDATE: Here is Scott’s Relive video of the hike brought to you by popular request.

UPDATE II: My Relive finally uploaded:

https://www.relive.cc/view/vrqDQd82nwv

Seems like only yesterday

Oh wait, it WAS only yesterday! Here’s how it went down:

I walked up the National Highway towards Subic town for 45 minutes, then walked back on the other side. It was as boring as it sounds, but I got my steps in at least.

Napped and showered, then headed into town for a haircut. Stopped at Queen Victoria on the way to have a chat with one of the waitresses there I’m friendly with. She had messaged me the afternoon before asking for help because her son in the province had been injured in an accident. Accidents are common especially when it comes to slip and fall injury cases . In such cases people can contact attorneys to compensation. Well, she offered to clean my house or do laundry, but I have people for that already. I told her my masseuse position was vacant, but she said she wasn’t good at massage. I asked if she wanted to go hiking with me the next day and she responded that she didn’t feel like it. Okay, then. I’m thinking, “you want my help but you don’t want to help me”, that makes it easy to say no. I didn’t tell her that though. So, after thinking about it some more on my morning walk I decided I would relent and give her the 3000 pesos ($60.) she had requested. She was very surprised when I handed her the money and got a little teary-eyed. I told her I’m more inclined to help those who are willing to at least try to return the favor and let it go at that.

My transgender barber was wearing short shorts and a halter top. I briefly thought it would be easy for a dick to fall out of those cutoffs, assuming she still has one. Then, just to be safe, I kept my eyes closed for the remainder of the haircut.

After I left the barbershop, I ran into my homeless “mama” in one of her usual spots. She was laying down again, and as I approached I asked if she was still resting her mind. She laughed and said, “no, I’m thinking about finding a boyfriend.” Why? For boom-boom? I asked. She said, “yes, and to take care of me, and take me shopping.” Hmm. I asked if she wanted her own place to live in and she told me, “oh, yes! I would like that very much, papa!”. Well, I can’t help her in the boyfriend department but I’ve asked one of my Filipina friends to help me find a small cottage-type place that I can rent for her. We’ll see.

Since I was already on the far side of town, I popped into Dive In for a beer and to say hi to Jessa. I was the only customer, so I bought Jessa a drink. We chatted a bit, then she challenged me to a game of pool. I suck at pool but played her anyway. I wound up scratching on the 8-ball so she got the victory. A bit later one of her regulars came in, so I finished my beer and headed out. Jessa was looking good though, and I almost felt some regret that things didn’t work out for us. C’est la vie!

Headed down the highway for some beers with a view at Palm Tree. One of my neighbors from Alta Vista was there and we had a nice chat. I was surprised when he told me he had rented his house out to a Canadian who’ll be moving in next month. I guess he’ll be my ex-neighbor soon. I’m still considering moving when my lease expires in June. I really like living in Alta Vista though. Wish I’d known that Tony’s place was going to be available. Oh well, I’ll keep my eyes open for future opportunities.

I stayed at Palm Tree just long enough to enjoy the sunset, then headed on home. I had some cooking to do.
Steaks on the grill, baby!
I had a bit of an accident with the corn muffins. I was checking to see if they were done and belatedly discovered my oven mitt had a hole in it where my index finger resides. I dropped the pan in pain and surprise and this was the result. Put them back in the oven for a few more minutes. They weren’t pretty, but they tasted okay.

What else? Well, this gal from Manila I “met” on a dating site calls me “boss”. I don’t know why. She claims to be an extreme introvert, and I don’t get the sense she has any desire or intention to ever meet me in the real world. But she sent me this creation for some reason:

I thought it was kinda sweet. Pictures all came from my Facebook feed.

I wasn’t a big Rush Limbaugh fan, but I did appreciate that he gave voice to some viewpoints shared by people like me that would never be aired in the lamestream media. Rumor has it that this was his last tweet:

Okay, maybe it didn’t happen that way. Still…

This was the poison I posted yesterday to annoy my lefty Facebook friends:

It worked!

Alright, time for me to head out for Friday night darts! I had quite the adventure on today’s hike. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow…

Mountain men

Damn it! They are on to me…

I did have several beers last night. I also wound up not playing darts. Just wasn’t “feeling” it somehow. Instead, I moseyed up the highway to sit outside and watch the world go by at McCoy’s. Well, truth be told that ain’t all I watched.

The bargirl sitting next to me definitely tripped all my triggers. Yeah, yeah, it’s a shit photo taken serendipitously. But it wasn’t her face I was looking at anyway.
That’s me practicing my Joe Biden hair sniffing technique on Joy. She and the mamasan are eating balut, basically a duck fetus.
I’ve never tried this Filipino favorite and I’m quite sure that I never will.

Anyway, I had a rather nice time hanging out with Joy. She was new to the bar, returning after a two-year hiatus. She told me I had bought her a drink once before back in the day. I have no recollection of that event, however. Joy also revealed the reason for her long break–she had a baby. She resides with the father as well, so despite my perverted attraction to those legs her warm heart, there will be no Joy in my future.

It was Wednesday night, so on the way home I popped into The Pub and ordered up some Korean wings for takeout. 10% off on Wednesday so it’s becoming my new tradition.

I even remembered to get a photo of sorts before the wings were all gone. I bought the kimchi at Royal and it made the wings all the better.

Earlier in the day, I participated in the Wednesday Walkers group hike. We did a relatively hard (for us) 6K hike in the hills around Barretto. We did two moderate climbs along the way. It’s interesting how an up affects you. I’ve done twice that distance on flat ground and didn’t feel nearly as tired as I did yesterday. Oh well, as Stephen Stills sang long ago: “it’s no matter, no distance, it’s the ride.”

The path we hiked. Much of this is likely to be incorporated into our trail when I’m a Hare again next month.
Seven of the eight mountain men. Scott is behind the camera.
And so we begin.
Onward and upward.
Aussie Steve was recovering from some non-COVID (I hope) illness and had to take it slow going up. Retired submariner Gary hung back to provide encouragement.
Near the top of the first climb, we encountered this hard-working carabao coming down.
A pause to catch our breath.
A view from our first vantage point.
Movin’ on out…
Through the woods…
On the trail…
Cookie delivery!
Through a hillside village…
And down the steps.
And almost immediately, we began our second climb…
A stream crossing in this, um, picturesque village.
A brief rest at the top. We always identified this landmark on the My Bitch trail as “2nd Family”. There was a whole clan of people living here until about a month ago. And this time through the housing had been deconstructed. Undoubtedly, those materials are now being repurposed in a new shanty somewhere on the mountain.
It was good to see Olivia and her grandkids are still going strong as the “1st Family” on the mountain.
On the home stretch now. Hey, if you don’t want to have to wait on us, don’t be so damn fast!
The thatch grass is still a pain in the ass, but it was only around on short stretches of the trail.
Like this one.
A Barretto view…
Scott enjoying the overlook of Baloy beach…
No, this is not a posed picture. I’m sure of it. Almost.
It is very hard to make out in this photo, but just to the left of the tree in the center, we observed a young woman sitting alone in that ramshackle stick house. You can just make out her silhouette. She was actually quite attractive, to my eyes at least. I tried to engage her in a bit of conversation but she either didn’t speak much English or wasn’t interested in conversation This was near the end of our hike, and I kept thinking maybe I should go back and find out her story. Maybe she’s the one I’ve been dreaming of and I’ve finally found her. Then I remembered how close we were to Cheap Charlies and cold beer, so I told myself “never mind”.
Unwinding, re-hydrating, and telling tall mountain tales at Cheap Charlies.
I hope I didn’t lay it on too thick in this post.

Can you wonder what lies beyond? Though you’ve been
There before and forget about the effort and the strain
Always ascending, each yard as a mile to the never ending pull
Of the steepening grade that’s before you

It’s no matter, no distance, it’s the ride

Resting my mind

Another nothing Tuesday is behind me. Well, next to nothing anyway.

Got my groceries for the week. Hit two stores, Pure Gold and Royal, in an effort to secure some essentials I’ve been unable to find. Not much luck, although, I was able to score some frozen fruits to feed my smoothie addiction.

I’d prefer to get strawberries in a bag by themself, but sometimes you just have to accept what you can get. Never heard of this brand either, but the Arabic writing I guess is a clue.

Went to get a haircut but my transgender barber wasn’t in. I did see “mama”, the homeless woman I help out, laying underneath her umbrella in front of a closed hotel. As I approached she sat up, and I asked if she had been sleeping. “No, I was just resting my mind”. I don’t know why, but that cracked me up. We should probably all take the time to do that regularly.

Played darts in the tourney, drew a good partner and achieved first out status. That’s where you play so poorly you are the first to be eliminated from the tournament. It was just one of those nights when we were both off our game and got our asses kicked. Oh well, it happens.

On the bright side, I was able to escape the confines of Alley Cats and make my way to my beachside stool at Mango’s. Ordered up my favorite dish, the grilled pork chops, and they didn’t disappoint. A nice way to finish off a rather boring and lazy day.

And it is good to be alive, regardless. We had another death in our little town this week–John Francis Kingsley. I actually didn’t know the man personally but had met him at last year’s VFW Beach Bash.

JFK playing the role of Donald Trump for our entertainment.

I learned of his passing when I saw the announcement posted in front of the house I didn’t know was his.

By all accounts, he was one of the good guys. RIP kind sir.

Although I didn’t know Jack or where he lived, I had previously noticed the house with envy.

It would be so cool to have a treehouse like this one in the yard.

I’ll have to keep my eyes open to see if a “for rent” sign appears out front.

That’s all the news from here. But I do have these tidbits to share:

Yep, tell me about it.
Is there anything beer can’t do?
A great movie that could never be made today. They’d all get canceled by a Woke mob.

And finally, this one is for you, Kevin Kim:

When I was with USFK, we had lots of contractors working for us. Or is that a contradiction? Okay, I’ll sign off now.

Mine’s bigger than yours!

Or so it would appear. Or maybe it’s natural for a German to want to eclipse an Austrian. Even if it wasn’t just an old fashioned pissing contest, the outcome was pretty much a fiasco. Clusterfucks like what occurred yesterday left me shaking my head in wonder and fearing for the future.

Do I have your attention now? Alright, good. Perhaps my introductory paragraph contains some amount of hyperbole, but I seriously do have doubts and concerns about the direction my beloved Hash seems to have taken. Here’s why:

Almoranas was the Hare. In my experience, he does a poor job marking a trail, but the trail itself, while usually challenging, is not over the top. That wasn’t the case yesterday. It seems he wanted to outdo Guenter’s monster trail from last week. So, he laid an 11K + path that included two outrageous climbs. And unlike Guenter, he didn’t provide an alternative trail or warn anyone what they were in for. That, in my opinion, is pure bullshit. Moreover, I think it is dangerous and irresponsible. The Subic Hash kennel primarily consists of old retired fuckers, women, inexperienced hikers, and an assortment of visitors from out of town. Now, we do have a handful of really strong individuals who can handle hikes like this without difficulty; but they are definitely in the minority. To not give a heads up to the folks who would struggle with an arduous hike, nor offer any other option is just plain wrong. That’s how I see it anyway.

The feedback on the trail during the circle was universally negative. The ones who like a hard trail were unhappy that it was so poorly marked. Others thought it was too long and too difficult to complete in the allotted timeframe (Guenter had started his long trail two hours early). Of course, we didn’t get to hear from the six Hashers that weren’t back yet when the circle started. The final three got back after dark. That’s just scary to think about them making their way down a mountain in the dark.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I believe the primary responsibility of the Hare is to lay a trail with the safety of your fellow Hashers in mind. Poorly marked trails get people lost. Long and hard trails that can’t be finished by sundown are inexcusable.

I’m not sure what the answer is here. I’m not really in favor of hamstringing the Hares overmuch, they are volunteers after all. Perhaps it is time to make what I do (and had the foresight to do yesterday) “official”–we provide at least one trail each week that everyone can do. There were seven in my group yesterday. We did about 6.5K and at our slow pace, it took nearly two and half hours to complete. Even at that, we got back “On-Home” before the first of the runners on the long trail did. I don’t think the Hares like it when people like me undermine their efforts by making our own trail. All I can say to that is, “fuck you, I’ll do whatever I think is best for me”.

Sorry for the rant. Here are pictures from the alternative trail:

The purple line is Almaranus’ crazy trail. The green line is what the sane people did. We were on the “official” trail for the first 2K (the flat part). And yes indeed, it was very poorly marked. We had one good climb on our trail, plenty challenging, but only half of Almaranus’ FIRST climb.
In the beginning, it was narrow going…
Making our way down into Alta Vista.
In the ‘hood.
Heading for the valley.
In the valley.
Making our way up…
Part of our climb took us up the proverbial creek.
Mother Mary must have blessed us, for we made it through the day without incident.
Once we made it to the top, we followed My Bitch back to town.
See you up close and personal real soon, Easter mountain!
I thought our trail was pretty close to perfect. Worked up a good sweat but also enjoyed the hike. There are walking groups on Wednesday and Saturday that do insane hikes. Why attempt that at the Hash?
We even took a rest break on our trail…
During the Hash circle on the roof at Hot Zone. That’s Almaranas second from the left and Guenther on the far right.
And so are their Hash trails.

Anyway, I’ve got a group I can walk with regardless of whoever the Hare might be. Anyone of like mind is welcome to join us. Next week, Leech My Nuggets is the Hare. He always lays a well-marked trail and tells you upfront what you can expect. Once when he was the Hare I got in the truck to head out to the start of his trail. He said, “John, I don’t think you want to do my long trail today.” That’s the way to Hare! Leech told us his trail next week is 7.5K. I’m sure there will be ample opportunity to shortcut should the need arise.

On-On!

A free man hikes where he wants and posts what he wants.

The VD pandemic

Olive Oyl might work too…

Here’s hoping everyone had a great Valentine’s Day. Me? I don’t give a shit about VD. I don’t have a love interest, and if I did, I’d love her the same every day of the year, not just on February 14. VD seems to be a big deal here in these parts though. Most of the locals call it “hearts day”. Which maybe is better than VD anyway.

Sorry about that, Saint Valentine! No offense intended.

My dateless heart day was similar to every other day I spend alone here. Which is not to say I was alone. I was surrounded by women in Cheap Charlies. Ordered up some food from downstairs and shared it with the staff. Bought Lorena some lady drinks and couldn’t help but notice her protruding (more than usual) belly. She confessed that she is, indeed, five months pregnant. I would say they never learn, but I do believe getting knocked up is just part of the culture here. That explains why so many live their lives in poverty. Ah, well. I gave her a bigger tip than normal when I left.

I did see something that seemed genuinely sweet from my perch overlooking the highway. I noticed a young woman limping along with a deformed leg. And the guy she was with had a similar problem with one of his legs. So, maybe it is true that there is someone for everyone out there. Lorena speculated that perhaps they were brother and sister, but I think the odds of two siblings being born with the same defect have got to be very low. Besides, my idea is much more romantic and in keeping with the spirit of VD.

I tried and failed to get a good picture before they passed by. But here they are.

I was drinking gin and sodas which hit me harder than usual, so I made it an early night. Got a rare message from Jee Yeun, wishing me a happy Valentines. I responded “you too” and went to bed. Up before the sun this morning and the sky made me wonder if I should heed a sailor’s warning.

It wasn’t exactly red, so maybe not. The photo sucks more than usual because I still had the camera on full zoom from the pic of the limpers above I took the night before. Sorry!

On the dog walk, I observed yet another house starting construction in my neighborhood.

It’s a freakin’ boomtown around here lately. I don’t understand it though; plenty of vacant lots, but it seems the construction is always right next door to an existing house.

Later on, I treated myself to a pleasant morning walk on the beach, as well.

Big crowds on the weekends of late, but pretty much empty on Monday.

I’ve got the Hash coming up this afternoon. Already have a plan in place to leave early and modify the trail as I deem necessary. That’s just the way I roll these days and I don’t give a damn if anyone doesn’t like it. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

On my beach jaunt, this old Kris Kristofferson tune came up in my playlist. I guess it is about as romantic as everything else in my life these days.

From the coalmines of Kentucky to the California sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul,
Standin’ right beside me through everythin’ I done,
And every night she kept me from the cold.
Then somewhere near Salinas, Lord, I let her slip away,
She was lookin’ for the love I hope she’ll find,
Well I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday,
Holdin’ Bobby’s body close to mine.

Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose,
And nothin’ left was all she left to me,
Feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when Bobby sang the blues,
And buddy, that was good enough for me.
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee.

Avoiding amputation

A great night of darts yesterday. I threw a coveted 180 (highest possible score), which by my reckoning, makes four this year already. That’s usually my annual output. Even rarer and more unusual than a 180; we made it through the entire tournament without losing a single leg (a match is best of three, we never lost once). A special night indeed!

Billy and I made for a strong team, no question about it. Still, we had some tough competition, and that makes the achievement all the more satisfying.

I treated myself to a Sunday morning breakfast out today at the Jewel restaurant. I was faced with a dilemma: banana pancakes or French toast? This was my solution:

Both! Yeah, I know that’s a lot of carbs. But sometimes a man has got to eat what he wants to eat.

Sometimes you’ll see something on the internet that just really hits home in an “if the shoe fits, wear it” kinda way.

You talkin’ about me? Actually, I’ve been behaving pretty well of late.

Congratulations to Donald Trump on beating the impeachment rap for the second time. Even more impressive is that he did it once as President and once when he wasn’t even in office. Amazing! Of course the whole thing was a farce as this video makes abundantly clear:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNMtyoSibG4&t=139s
Is this the best we’ve got?
Goose or gander? It’s all so confusing.

Anyway, I’m glad I am so far away from all the madness. I honestly can not imagine ever living in the USA again. I probably wouldn’t in the best of times either, but I ain’t about to be woke. Or even pretend to be. What I have been enjoying is throwing the occasional grenade out at my lefty Facebook friends just to give them a taste of the bullshit they dispensed for the previous four years.

Stuff like this. Sometimes I get a reaction, other times not so much. Perhaps some folks are waking up to the reality of what they have done/
Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better I fear.

I stole the above meme from Kevin Kim’s blog. Speaking of Kevin, I’ve been a long-term project of his when it comes to improving my grammar. Especially punctuation, and commas in particular. You may have noticed his comment to my post yesterday for example. I am trying to improve, but my failure rate is still quite high. I struggled mightily trying to get the first paragraph of today’s post right. Not sure that I succeeded.

Anyway, I mention this because a friend had posted this video on his Facebook timeline this morning. I’d actually seen it before but it was still enjoyable to watch it again, especially if dark humor is your thing. I did check to see if I had posted it here on LTG previously and didn’t find it. Now, Kevin proudly wears the mantle of “grammar Nazi”, so this one is for you!

That’s all for today. Thanks for dropping in.

No ifs, ands, or butts about it

Another Friday is in the books! A long-ass group hike, an unusual bar crawl, and some good eats. But let’s start with darts.

My singles league match. Probably the best darts I’ve thrown since the good ol’ days when I was in my prime. The key for me measuring the quality of my game is the marks I throw, and I tore it up, especially in cricket. Good stuff!

I had a different kind of fun 49 years ago at the high school prom. My girlfriend Karen and I are still Facebook friends and had a good laugh at this memory.

Everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed!

My bar crawl last night was out of the norm because I went to bars I don’t normally visit. Started out at McCoy’s, a new bar formerly known as T-Rose. I sat streetside and enjoyed my first beers of the evening.

I had to smile when a guy pulled up riding this. That’s a 3-wheeler powered by a car engine. Loud as hell and pretty ridiculous looking. The guy riding it fit the bike perfectly though, in a stereotypical fashion–big and fat, bandana on his head, full and bushy beard. I think it is great to be who and what you are without apology. This guy is living large. Literally.

My next stop was Dive In, another rarely visited place. As the name implies, it’s a bit of a dive. Only place I know that actually allows smoking inside. That doesn’t bother me though, I enjoy my vape indoors too. Jessa was bartending and it was nice to see her again and chat a bit. One of the guys at the bar kept buying her lady drinks so I didn’t have to. Win-win!

The nicest thing about my time in Dive In though was the other two guys in the bar. Um, that sounds a little different than I intend. Both were also named John. One guy was doing the music via YouTube and playing an eclectic mix of tunes I enjoyed. The other John was actually someone I had met before at a Hash although he is a very infrequent attendee. We didn’t recognize each other at first because it is a very dark bar and both of us are old and going blind. Still, we had some lively bar banter and some laughs. For a solitary guy like me that was a nice change of pace.

Still, it was getting late (for a guy like me) and I had baby back ribs in the crockpot at home. I said my goodbyes and headed out. One of the reasons I don’t visit Dive In much is that it is on the far end of town from my house. So, by the time I got to my side of town I was thirsty again. I popped into Outback and pulled up a seat at the outdoor poolside bar. You can even see the bay from there. Well, you could if the sun was out.

It had been a long time since I’ve been to Outback. I guess it’s safe now to mention this is one of the bars that operated as a speakeasy until I got word directly from the manager that the bar was closing. I wrote about that here and speculated at the time that perhaps it was just me being banned. I later learned that that was indeed the case. Since that time I’ve not felt compelled to support the bar after it reopened. If you didn’t want me then you don’t get me now kinda thing. Lots of other options these days anyway.

Among the options I prefer are the open-air venues. Mango’s beachside bar has been a favorite. And the Palm Tree next door has an awesome view from their second-floor deck. Of course, there is Cheap Charlies where you can watch the action on the highway below. I’ll probably add the previously mentioned McCoy’s to the rotation as well. These days being enclosed in a place like Alley Cats or Queen Victoria gives me an almost claustrophobic feeling somehow. I guess that damn COVID has changed my drinking habits forever! Oh well.

Anyhoo, there was a cute girl named Gina working the bar at Outback last night. I had had a few beers by now so I might have been a bit more flirtatious than normal. She was spunky and sassy though and gave back as much as I threw at her, so it was fun. I doubt I’ll become a regular though because of the bad history I had in the speakeasy days. So, that was my bar crawl.

On the way home my Fitbit started vibrating to announce I had hit a step milestone:

It’s been two years or so since I broke the 30,000 step threshold.

I got home around 8:00 and still needed to finish up the baby back ribs. Popped them in the over to put a glaze of bbq sauce on top and then enjoyed half a slab before bed. Got up this morning and had to decide whether to eat the leftovers from the burrito fixin’s I prepared for dinner on Thursday or the ribs from the night before. And then it hit me:

I could do both! And that is just what I did…

Life is good! As good as the sandwich I enjoyed after yesterday’s hike:

I ordered the French dip. The waitress said “roast beef dip”. I insisted I wanted a French dip. She responded “we serve a roast beef dip here”. So, I enjoyed a tasty sandwich of that name. I do recall teasing the owner about that menu item before and he explained there was a technical difference in the way the meat is carved. I think a French dip is more shaved beef as opposed to sliced. I’m not sure about that though.

Speaking of Sit-n-Bull, one of the things I enjoy is their daily specials menu. Didn’t order off it yesterday because I was craving a French roast beef dip, but there were several tempting options.

Damn, I’m getting hungry again!

Alright, I saved the hike for last this time but it was probably the best part of the day. The group met up at Barretto High School on Rizal Extension. We made our way up the mountain, picking up the part of Guenter’s Hash trail we avoided on Monday, for a steep and long climb to the ridgeline. We then followed the ridgeline all the way to where it intersected with Guenter’s “insane” trail. We weren’t totally out of our minds though, we just did one of the downhill portions. Hell, we had to get back down somehow, so why not? It worked out for us, but damn, that was a long and very steep descent. And just when I thought I had made it all the way down without a slip, trip, or fall, I stepped on a slick creekside rock and took a hard tumble. It could have been worse if I had come down on my head instead of my hand, but it stung pretty good at the time. We wound up doing close to 12K which is quite a bit longer than our Friday group of geezers normally does. Still, saw some new countryside that was very beautiful and now we can brag that we hiked the insane trail. To the pictures then:

What we done.
I had two options for getting to our starting point at Barretto High–the long way on the street or going over the mountain from my house. I chose the latter. The backside includes coming down on the tires, the only thing worse is coming up them. Still, it got me there in just over 30 minutes…
I dreamed of surviving another day on the mountain and that dream came true!
Our group of hardy Friday hikers…
Those steps ain’t gonna climb themselves–let’s go!
But damn, there were lots of them!
And then the concrete gave way to bags of sand…
I need to check back and see if this place is still available when my lease expires. Needs a little work and the commute would be a killer. Especially after a few beers. In the dark. Hmm, maybe not.
No more steps, but still going up.
We are bound and determined to get there.
And of course, this old woman who said she lives up here burst my bubble about how studly I was for making this climb.
Are we there yet? No! Keep going!
Made it to the top! A 45-minute climb…
Alright, back to work…
A rare opportunity to look DOWN on Easter mountain.
Walking the ridgeline.
Enjoying the views…
Time to head down. Watch your step!
I’ve done the ridgeline all the way to Tralala, but this is the first time I’ve come down on this side of the mountain.
Getting there…
About halfway down. I can’t imagine what life up here must be like and I have no interest in finding out. Great views though!
There’s Scott flying over a creek. Or attempting to anyway…
Is that civilization? Nope, turns out to be abandoned.
Now that’s more like it. How long are you in for?
Back on flat ground at last!
Was it just me, or does this tree root have the look of a monster about it?
Back on the pavement in Alta Vista…
Ran into my new neighbor and fellow Hasher, Simon (aka Leech My Nuggets). He was just returning from scouting our annual Easter trail up Easter mountain.
Finally, beer and food!
https://www.relive.cc/view/vrqDQQQKowv

Okay, I misled you in the title of this post. There was one butt.

Just the way I like ’em.

And that was my day.

I apologize for the length of this post!

UPDATE: Damn, I can’t believe I used this title once before, back in November 2017. That post was about a prostate exam though.

Thirstday happenings

I’ve got my routines and within those routines I have routines. I have my walking routines of course; three weekly group hikes and three days of solitary walking. Thursday is the alone day when I push myself to walk a little longer and further than normal. Yesterday I did a bit over 12K in a little more than 2.5 hours. Granted it was mostly flat. I had originally planned to walk to Waltermart on the far side of Subic town, then return home via the National highway. When I reached the GOVIC bypass road I changed my mind and turned left instead of right. Just wasn’t feeling that long walk home on the busy highway. Maybe I’ll do it next week.

I’ve got some pictures to share from the walk:

Leaving the ‘hood.
The journey is underway.
A valley view.
I’m not sure what it is about this fence that compelled me to cross the road and take this photo. It just moved me somehow…
A carabao bathing in a mud hole is always an interesting sight. At least for me.
Flowers in blossom were prevalent in several places along the way…
On the GOVIC road with Easter mountain looming large…
Up on the hill across that valley is my home in Alta Vista. I’ve discovered it is much easier to walk around the fields than through them. So that’s what I did.
Several of these signs along the highway. I’m not prone to worry about landslides if it ain’t raining. Unless there’s an earthquake.
The fresh market just over the bridge in Subic…

You can Relive the walk here if you’d like.

https://www.relive.cc/view/v8qV98P5x76

No darts on Thursday, so after the requisite nap and shower, I made my way down the highway to Cheap Charlies for beers and bargirl companionship. The beer was cold and the girls were hot. Well, one of those is true. The girls were friendly enough though and I of course rewarded their acting like I’m special with a couple of lady drinks. The traffic on the highway is especially bad lately because Subic is STILL doing their insane and pointless vehicle checkpoint which creates a gridlocked mess that is a danger to all involved, especially pedestrians.

My view from Cheap Charlies. This portion of the highway is a good 2K up the road from the checkpoint and the traffic jam extended further back as far as I could see.
I felt bad for those transgendered folk from San Diego being stuck in traffic after such a long journey. *ahem*

After a couple (or was it a few?) beers I moved down the road to Mango’s and took my usual seat overlooking the beach. My beer bottle had a rust encrustation on the mouthpiece so the waitress provided a frosty mug to pour the beer into. As I sat there enjoying the view I thought about how someday I ought to write the story of my life.

And then I remembered that I do that here on LTG every day.

It may not be much of a life, but strangely I don’t seem to give a shit. I wonder why that is?

Oh yeah, now I remember!

So, I guess I better get after it before those caring feelings start slipping in. Back tomorrow with more of the same, but different enough to be almost new.

On top of old Black Rock

A drama-free day doesn’t have to be boring. An abbreviated version of the Wednesday Walkers took a hike out to, up, over, and around Black Rock mountain. Being in the shadow of Black Rock is relatively common on our walks but it had been a while since we’d done the actual climb. It’s really not that hard getting up but coming down the backside can get a little tricky. It’s not really bad on a dry day like yesterday but when things get wet it’s pretty much a no-go for those of us who choose not to risk life and limb.

The way we went. That’s Black Rock up at the top left…
A Dutchman, an American, and a German walked onto the highway…no joke!
We meandered through the Matain neighborhood then headed for the hills…
Still climbing…
Anybody need cookies?
Now what?
So that’s why it’s called Black Rock…
The best views per meter from up top Black Rock.
Looking back towards home. That’s Alta Vista on the other side of the valley.
It’s not that I think I’m all that special, but I do enjoy looking down on the residents of Calapacuan…
We’ll go down that way, but first let us pose for a picture…
The 3 Kings of Black Rock…
The look on Max’s face when I suggested we toss him off the rock top to see if the Flying Dutchman story is true. He explained that the story is true but he’s not that Dutchman. So, there you go.
Show us the way down, Dan…
Yes, yes, we do have cookies for you!
Back on flat ground…
…but still a ways to go.
These kids are my regulars and got my last bag of cookies…
Where we was…
No idea what you might purchase at the gay store…
Civilization awaits…
Subic always thanks us for leaving…

You can Relive the hike here if you so desire.

After a nap and a shower, I had a quiet night in town. Just trying to stay healthy. Or alive.

And just now as I finish this post I encounter an epilog to the one I wrote yesterday.


Hi!?
You sent Today at 12:53 PM

What’s up?

Honey sent Today at 12:54 PM

I’m not OK where are u now!?
You sent Today at 12:55 PM

I’m at home…

Honey sent Today at 12:58 PM

Where!? I really really need to pay my rent apartment for tomorrow and if I not give I living out., can u helping me I need 3000 only please send me I pay back to u if u want meet me!?

I’ve been wracking my brain trying to remember who this is. We have five mutual friends on Facebook but none that I think I’ve met in person. Her profile says she works at Arizona but I don’t remember her from there either. I’m not there much these days though. I’m guessing that she worked on the floating bar in the pre-pandemic days.

Anyway, no response is the “no” I chose. So far it seems to have worked.

Ah well, time to play my singles league dart match. Back with more tomorrow.

Outta my league

It turned out to be a more interesting Tuesday than usual. Granted, that’s not saying much, but still. Here are the highlights:

I met up with Kate at the Mangos beach bar at the appointed time of 3:00 p.m. She was waiting when I arrived. I ordered up a beer and chicken fingers, she had a mango juice. Our drinks arrived, we settled in, and then she proceeded to share her tale of woe.

As I understood her to say, some time back they had pawned the family trike which was their primary source of income. Apparently, this was done to finance the cost of the baby she delivered last year.

Here’s an example of what we call a trike in these parts. They are ubiquitous and serve the same function as a taxi cab would in most other parts of the world.

Kate said that when the pawn loan came due she was unable to make repayment in full, but worked out an arrangement to make monthly installment payments. That changed recently when the owner of the loan demanded payment in full because of their own family emergency–grandmother in the hospital if I recall correctly. Kate tearfully told me that her entire family blames her for this situation and her father says it is her responsibility to make things right. Can I please help her?

Well, that was quite a story. Presented with excellent dramatic effect and with all the elements necessary to tug at your heartstrings. But how much was this story worth?

“How much are you looking for?” I asked her.

“50,000 pesos” she responded.

It’s a good thing I was sitting down. That’s $1041.41 at today’s exchange rate. Now, I may be an easy touch when you are asking for fifty or a hundred dollars, much more than that we better be related or at least intimate. And while I do have the means to “loan” someone the amount Kate is looking for, I don’t have any desire to do so. First of all, I barely know this woman other than as a fellow Hasher and Facebook friend. I was scammed for a thousand bucks by Gemma, a woman I had dated and considered a friend. My trust in her was unfounded. And y’all read my post a couple of days ago about the $400. laptop I bought for Jhen and how that worked out. Kate looked at me expectantly with tears still in her eyes and I told her the truth.

“You’ve got the wrong person. That’s way more than I can afford. I’m not rich, I’m living here on a pension. Sorry, but I can’t help you.”

She nodded and told me she understood. The fish sticks arrived and I shared them with her (see, I’m not a totally selfish bastard). She tried one and said they were dry. Well, they are fried, of course they’re dry I thought to myself, but I shrugged and said I think they taste good. She did take the leftovers with her.

Making small talk, I asked who had sponsored her (paid the P350 entry fee) at the Hash on Monday. She told me that Troy had done so. Hmm. I said maybe you should ask Troy, he might have more money than me. Yeah, that was kind of a shitty thing to do in retrospect. But on the other hand, Troy has been known to be pretty damn generous with the gals he favors, so who knows. Anyway, she finished her juice, thanked me for listening, and left. I paid the bill and departed shortly thereafter.

Next up for me was playing in the darts tournament across the street at Alley Cats. As fate would have it, I drew Troy as my partner. Naturally, I didn’t mention my earlier meeting with Kate. She had asked me not to tell anyone and I chose to respect her wishes in that regard. Troy and I both threw well and sailed into the finals. We were waiting for the losers bracket to play out so we’d know our opponent when Troy told me he was going to meet up with Kate after the tournament. Oh, how nice. And then a few minutes later, Kate showed up at Alley Cats and joined us at our table. That was a little awkward.

It still wasn’t time to play our finals match and Kate said she had a friend waiting outside who was too shy to come in and join us. I suggested Troy go outside to talk with Kate. He did so and a few minutes later rejoined me without Kate. I didn’t ask what had happened and he didn’t volunteer any information.

We then played our finals match and kicked ass.

We’d been partners before but never previously finished in the money. We just played well consistently and we were in sync all night.

I went home drunk and happy with my bank account intact. I’d call that a pretty good day.

And just in case you are thinking I’m a cheap Charlie, I sent a Filipina friend $60. so she could take a Valentine’s Day trip with her girlfriends. And I gave a beggar 50 pesos. While I was enjoying my lunch outdoors at Sit-n-Bull, a young woman holding a baby asked me for money. I didn’t have any small bills on me, so I shook my head and said sorry. She kept on standing there though. Then I looked up and noticed she was breastfeeding. Damn it. I went inside and got change and handed her 60 pesos. And no, I didn’t say “nice tit”, I’m not that much of a sick bastard. It was nice though.

So, there you have it. And life rolls on.

Kate was good but not as good as these lying fools…

Being there

Survived yet another Hash run yesterday. This one was a bit over 6K and took me right at two hours to complete. Guenter (Vienna Sausage) was the Hare, so of course, the trail featured a hellacious climb. On the other hand compared to his “hard” trail (yes, he did two) I got off easy. The other trail was insane, even by Guenter standards. I honestly have great admiration for those who even attempted that 4 hours long, 400-meter climb.

The trail I did had a ring of familiarity. One portion (the up) I had done on my first-ever Hash back on January 1, 2018. And once we came down off the mountain, we did a section of the oft-traveled My Bitch on the way to our On-Home at the Alta Vista community center. And yes, we did shortcut around a second climb and also avoided a dreaded creekbed walk. I call that keeping it sane.

The pictures tell the story better than I can:

The “regular” trail. The yellow line is the path we didn’t take.
Scott (Pubic Head) has a map app that somehow measures the grade. In this case, our climb was 34%. My app says we went up 220 meters. I’ve done higher and steeper climbs so I’m not complaining about this one. Much.
Getting started. We left early and only had four in our group. Surprisingly, no one passed us as is usually the case. I guess all the fast Hashers were doing the insane trail.
On up…
On-On!
A view from the mountain.
Still going up…
Black And Dickher looks tired…
You can’t see the forest for those trees…
Pubic Head making his way down…
Making a cookie delivery…
On Rizal Extension heading for My Bitch.
A view from My Bitch.
Taking a detour around someone’s uling (charcoal) making operation.
Hashing is not a game although sometimes you encounter a strong off fence.
Finally made it back On-Home and the beer drinking commenced.
We had a contingent from Angeles City join us.
The gal in glasses is named Whatever You Want. Today she has requested to meet with me and I have agreed to hear her sad tale. I expect the worst, but she’s too cute to just say no.
Time to circle up. Get those losers on the ice!
Vienna Sausage earned the Hashit. Much deserved!
It was also his birthday, so we made him a cake in the traditional Hash fashion.
And then the sun went down.

Feel free to Relive the adventure:

https://www.relive.cc/view/vE6Jgmy17gq

So the title of this post brought back to mind the movie starring Peter Sellers. I can’t even remember the last time I thought of that film, but when it came out in 1979 I was a mailman in Prescott, Arizona. I recall some of my fellow carriers raving about how hilarious and yet insightful the story was. I enjoyed it myself but will have to go back as see it again to remember what all the fuss was about.

Here’s the trailer:

Alright, time to meet up with Kate. I’ll let you know what that was all about tomorrow.

And so concludes a rather hefty post.