Run #1499 of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers is in the books. Feedback on the trail I helped Hare was positive for the most part. Next week’s Hare, Leech My Nuggets called it a “pussy trail” but conceded it was well-marked. A few Hashers missed a critical junction, but others said they had no trouble finding it. The folks that like challenging climbs didn’t get one, but 7K pushed the boundaries for people used to shorter hikes. The truck ride out to the start was crowded and very uncomfortable, not to mention unsafe. I’ll be pushing the idea that we should hire Jeepneys for transportation at our next leadership meeting.
It was an interesting experience walking my own trail the day after we had laid powder, paper, and chalk to show the way. In my view, we did an adequate job, but there were places I thought the marking could have been clearer. I still believe there is value in making an initial trail setting the day before the Hash and then doing a follow-up on the morning of the Hash. That way, you could refresh powder where it had been washed or swept away and clear up any ambiguities in showing the intended path. I wasn’t able to convince my fellow Hares of the value of this approach, so perhaps in the future, I’ll be making the second trip alone. It’s all good; just looking for ways to provide the best experience possible for my Hashing brothers and sisters.
To the photos then:
The path we laid. Beginning at Bridge #4 on Sawmill Road, going around Easter mountain, and ending on Baloy Beach.The ride out to the start took about twenty minutes and was very uncomfortable.And also unsafe. At least the guys standing in front have a metal framework to hold onto. The guy holding onto the guy in front of him doesn’t have that stability. Losing your balance and falling out of the truck would likely be fatal.We had the good fortune to all disembark safely.“Gather round and let me tell you what’s in store for you poor souls.”And we are On-On!Through the open fields…Just follow the trail and see where it leads…Uh oh, a goat block! No kidding.They are all going My Way. Well, mine and Pubichead’s.No tolls are required for smiling faces!Making our way to the highway.Into this little shanty village…My kind of climb.And then back down again.Leaving my mark on the world. Well, on this abandoned suitcase anyway.On the wall.Chalk and powder show the way to go.You coming, Gasman?Going down for the last time.The empty sidewalks of this sleepy village in the foothills.The local watering hole. (the well on the right…that building is a sari-sari, but maybe they have the local brew, Red Horse, available there.The final stretch on the backstreets of Matain.Loading up the boat. A lot more comfortable than the Hashmobile!On the shore at Baloy Beach after a successful river crossing.On-Home at Da’Kudos.A roast chicken salad for my after-hike dinner.Chillin’ out waiting for the Hash circle to commence.Hares on the ice. The woman was a newbie who confessed to liking the trail. If you admit that, you join the Hares on the ice.Then they sang us this song: S-H-I, T-T-Y, T-R-A-I-L. Shitty trail (it sucked!) Shitty trail (it really sucked!) The Hares have laid another shitty trail. I would rather drink this beer than run your shitty trail. S-H-I, T-T-Y, T-R-A-I-LA newly named Hasher. Meet Harry Fucker.(someone had said he looked like Harry Potter)Deflowering a couple of Hash virgins.And then the sun went down on another Hash Monday.Hare today, gone tomorrow.
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
How’s this for a Sunday?
I was up earlier than usual, and my boys were feeling lazy.
You want a pillow, Lucky?I’ll have what he’s having.
Of course, they are always up in time for the dog walk. I really enjoyed this one–something about the clouds and the mountains was making me feel glad to be living in the moment.
I wish I was better able to capture the view.
Feeling inspired when I returned home, I set about making some breakfast.
It had been a while since I baked up some blueberry muffins.And these bacon strips hit the spot.
I’m one of the Hares for this week’s Hash, and so we went out to mark our trail. There was some debate about whether to wait until Monday morning to do the marking. The issue is that if you mark a day early and it rains, a lot of that work will be erased. On the other hand, if you wait until the morning of the Hash, you may encounter weather problems or other unforeseen issues with the intended trail and not have adequate time to rectify them. Blow My Pipe wanted to wait, and Pubic Head wanted to mark early. I wanted to go early and also go back out on Monday to do any necessary touch-ups. In the end, Pubic Head and I marked the trail yesterday with the caveat that should it rain, Blow My Pipe and I would remark the trail today. We had some light rain but not enough to require a revisit. Win!
Our trail is a bit over 7K but mostly flat. We are starting at Bridge #4 in Naugsol, which requires a truck ride, but it couldn’t be helped. Our On-Home is at Da’Kudos on Baloy Beach, so we didn’t have a lot of options. Our trail has a couple of short uphills, but nothing too strenuous. My least favorite part is walking through a rice paddy overgrown with grass. Makes it hard to see or follow the trail. We’ll see how that works out today. We finish up by going through Matain and then taking a boat ride across the river to Baloy Beach.
I had my hands full with powder and chalk, so I wasn’t able to get many photos from the trail. Here is a couple, though:
Coming down from the first climb.This part was particularly tricky. Pubic Head elected to take in backward. I went down on my ass.The view from here.Climbing into those little boats can be tricky, too…you don’t want to lose your balance and take a swim.Where the river meets the bay.Baloy Beach awaits.
After completing our mission, we had lunch and beers at Johan’s. I took a trike home from Baloy and had a nap. I had to rush around to get to It Doesn’t Matter in time for the Sunday raffle. Well, I thought I had to rush around. I arrived before 5:00 and bought my usual six tickets for 500 pesos. The owner told me the raffle wasn’t going to start around 6:00. Oh well, I just chilled and drank beers. Also bought my waitress, Agnes, several lady drinks. Six o’clock came and went with no sign of movement towards starting the raffle. By 6:30, I was frustrated and said fuck it, paid my tab, and left. Agnes said she would take care of anything I might win. She messaged me later that I had won some more discount coupons–my favorite prize. Anyway, I won’t be participating in future raffles because my time is more valuable to me than the potential prizes. The raffle is for charity, but I can find other ways to contribute.
I was in a sour mood when I crossed the highway and entered Cheap Charlies. I ordered up my usual, and like clockwork, my two regulars were seated on either side of me. They didn’t have anything to say to me, mind you, just sat there expectantly waiting for me to buy them a drink. I had a surprise for them this time–I finished my beer, paid my tab, and walked out. They appeared to be stunned. Rule #1 is: Don’t be a sucker. Rule #2 is: Don’t be stupid. I need to get better at following the rules.
I crossed the highway again and decided to give BarCelona a try. I was hoping my “friends” at Cheap Charlies saw me taking my business elsewhere. Alas, as usual, the service at BarCelona sucked. It seems if you decline to buy a lady drink, you are ignored. I practically had to beg to get my second beer served, and after that, all the joy had gone out of my evening. I caught a trike downstairs and went home early.
Dinner awaited me in the crockpot.
Meatballs. I didn’t bother with a side dish or garlic bread. Just ate and hit the sack early.
I’ve decided to do the Hash trail with the group this afternoon. Doing my own trail is a first for me as a Hare. At least I won’t get lost!
Then take it as far as you see and beyond
With eyes you don't use enough to gather up strength
As thoroughfare gap, what awaits is whatever you see
When you get there or even before
It's no matter, no distance, it's the ride
But lots of time to think deep thoughts when you are walking alone.
While I was walking yesterday, I passed two old men engaged in a game of chess. I’m not sure why, but it triggered a chain of thoughts on what life is really all about. I suppose it is no great insight that so much of our time on earth is nothing more than filling in the hours of every day. The manner in which we do so pretty much defines who and what we are. During our working life, a goodly portion of the day is filled with earning a living. Having a job or career that is satisfying makes a difference, but feeding the family has its own kind of worthiness, regardless of whether you like your job or not. It’s those other hours outside of work or sleep that give meaning to this thing we call life.
As I said, nothing new or astounding in these thoughts, but I did look back at how I’ve lived those hours. I recalled as a youngster playing board games like Monopoly and Risk. I also learned to play chess, but that was never a passion. As a teenager and young adult, I was big-time into softball and racquetball. And, of course, there were those years when I escaped into a drug-fueled fantasy world. I learned to ski, liked to camp out, and take cross country drives. The responsibilities of being a parent took their share of time as well. It was nice to look back and reflect on ways I’ve filled in time throughout my life.
Naturally, that led me to thinking about how I spend the hours in my old age. I don’t really ponder so much about how having less life ahead of you than behind you matters or makes each hour somehow more precious. Retirement affords the opportunity to expend time the way you want rather than dancing to the whims of your employer. The question arises, though, am I using them wisely? As my regular readers know, I spend my days engaged in walking, drinking, darting, and pursuing ill-fated romances. I guess I spend a fair amount of time here on the internet as well. Hopefully, as the scamdemic draws to a close, I’ll be able to once again invest some time in travel adventures. Is that enough? It is for me, at least for now.
That doesn’t mean you can’t change things up now and again. The desire for something new led me to forego my typical Saturday night in Barretto. Instead, I walked the 4K out to Calapadayan for the soft opening of a new outdoor bar called Poseidon. Heh, you knew I wasn’t going to not drink beer, didn’t you?
The 2+2 resort is nearby. I’ve never been here before, but it looks interesting.From my vantage point, watching the signage being uploaded.Some of my fellow attendees took advantage of the comfortable couch seating area.Poseidon is right on the bay, so views like this one abound.The next-door neighbors.Speaking of lovely views, Jay and his crew from Hot Zone dropped by.And they entertained us with a dance performance.The sun went down, and we partied on.
It was definitely a nice change of pace. Too far out to be a regular stop for me, but I had a good time and won’t hesitate to drop in when I’m in the area.
Alright, I’m running out of time. Need to get to It Doesn’t Matter before the raffle. I’ll be back with more tomorrow!
It turned out to be a very nice visit to the Castillejos countryside. Five of us road rode the Hash truck out to join the dozen or so folks who had camped out the night before. They were waiting and ready to hike when we arrived. Lots of pictures to share, so let’s get on with it.
Our hike…the deviation (orange line) was for those of us who chose not to climb to the top of the hill.Loading up at the VFW for the ride out to Castillejos.Enjoying the scenery along the way.Arriving at the campground.First impression.Daniel and his dog holding down the fort.Some of the gals hanging out in the shade.A river runs through it.These huts were available for 300 pesos ($6) per day. We rented three.The campers all pitched tents amongst the huts.Looks cozy and comfortable enough, I suppose.The group gathered up for a photo before the hike.Let’s roll!On the road again.Out in the country.The mountain view.The river view.A grove view.Taking it up the old dirt road.Flower view.Cactus view.And a cow view. Seen enough?The hill to be climbed. Our campsite is on the other side.Now it is just a matter of getting there.You coming, Scott?Looming large.Going up.And up.Posers.So far, so good.Some of us bailed at this point and went around rather than over the hill.That speck is Jim at the summit.Heading back to camp after doing the roundabout way.Chillaxin’ after the hike.Scott chillaxin’ in the river.What’s cookin’?Reggie is.And so is Shyrel.I never had occasion to cross that bridge. Thankfully.Good food, cold beer, nice views. It made for a great day.Alas, all good things must come to an end. Time to load up and head out.Ice chests in the truck…And so am I. More beers to drink on the ride home.
That was the day. Took a much-needed nap when I got home. Then it was out for my Friday night. Started with dinner at John’s place:
The Philly cheesesteak this time.I ordered up some Korean-style chicken wings for take-out and fed the girls at the Hideaway Bar.
Next stop was Cheap Charlies.
The most interesting thing to see was the Friday night traffic backup coming into town. Barretto/Subic are the new weekend getaway for those urban dwellers down south. Makes for a bit of a pain in the ass for us residents, but it is good for business.
The night then took a strange turn, but that’s a story for another day.
A quick morning post before I head out for today’s Sausage Walk out in the wilds of Castillejos. Not sure I’ll be in shape to post when I get back this afternoon. So, here goes.
Another typical day in the life here in my little town.
My weekly street walk.The pace appears slower than it actually was. I stopped at Angel’s Bakery for some sausage and buns but didn’t pause the tracker.
And yes, I had some afternoon delight as well.
Joy came to visit.When we were done with what she came for, I treated her to lunch at Sit-n-Bull. Quesadilla for her (I had a bite, and it was delicious. She kept calling it a quesa-dill a. So much for Spanish influence on a culture they dominated for 400 years.I had the Maui chicken burger. Delightful as usual.
It’s always a nice treat when you are not dining alone. Avoids misunderstandings like this too:
I hate when that happens.
Jim showed up at It Doesn’t Matter, and we enjoyed some beers and chat together. Then we made a rare appearance at Hot Zone and had a nice visit with owner Jay. Still a lot of controversy surrounding the “suicide” of JR. More on that as it develops.
Jim went home, and I finished my night at Alaska Club. They always make me feel at home there.
This morning was all about prepping for today’s adventure.
Made myself a hearty breakfast.And made sure I had all the requirements for today’s after-hike cookout.And baked up a batch of brownies for dessert.All packed up and ready to roll!Beyond a shadow of a doubt.
It should be fun exploring new territory and, of course, grilling out with the group. Full report and photos tomorrow. Assuming I survive the day.
…to add the “s” to walker. Only Troy and I showed up for the hike yesterday, but the Wednesday Walkers marched on anyway. A lot of the group is preparing for our special event “sausage walk” on Friday, I suppose. There is also a campout tonight out where we’ll be hiking. I’m not going to do that particular activity. I’m a creature of comfort these days.
Daniel is already there, getting set up for a night on the river in Castillejos.
Photos from yesterday’s hike later in this post.
Here’s a shot of my Lucky boy working on his tan.
In darts, we beat the team from Blue Butterfly 11-2 yesterday. Next week we go head-to-head with our second place rivals in a winner-takes-all match. We will need to bring our best game if we have any hope of winning.
It occurred to me that I’ve never actually eaten at our dart league sponsor’s venue, Lagoon. I rectified that yesterday. The posted daily special was a “grilled meat platter,” so I gave it a try.
Beef, pork, and chicken. All quite tender and tasty. It was a lot of meat for 450 pesos ($9.) and it filled the void in my belly satisfactorily.
After my meal, I headed up the beach for some beers at McCoy’s.
Sand and bay…On the beach.And on the water.The bar, the videoke, and young women singing.So, I made the best of it.And watched the sun go down.I very rarely eat at McCoy’s, but some of these specials looked interesting. I saw some of them being served to the ladies behind me and the portions looked small. Of course, I had just gorged myself at Lagoon, so it didn’t matter to me. Maybe next time.
After a couple of beers, I hoofed it back to Barretto. Stopped at the Snackbar because it was there, and she wasn’t. I had a pleasant enough time telling my old jokes to new faces. Finished my night at Outback. My bartender friend says she is going to Hash on Monday. I hope she does. I’m one of the Hares, so I probably won’t be hiking the trail during the Hash though.
Alright then, here are the pictures from the Wednesday Walkers:
The way we went. Basically, just a pleasant flat valley walk.Our “group” for the day.Heading into Alta Vista.Heading out of Alta Vista.Walking the plank.The puddled streets of San Isidro.Cookie stop.The mountain that towers over the valley.The grass that towers over the hiker.I’m always wary around a horny carabao.Down in the valley, the valley so low.A ridgeline to be hiked another day.Shade is good to find. It was a hot motherfucker yesterday.A stretch on Sawmill road.On Bridge #3.Pausing for the traditional group shot.Heading back home.
You can Relive it all here if you’d like:
That’s how my yesterday went. I’ll tell you about today, tomorrow. I’m expecting some Joy this afternoon.
Another lazy Tuesday is in the books. This one had a nice start, as seen during the dog walk:
The end of that rainbow appears to be right on top of my house. When I got back home, alas, there was no pot of gold to be found.Not sure if you can make it out in this photo, but this was actually a double rainbow, although the one in the back isn’t very bright.Daboys wait patiently while I fumble with the camera.
A nothing kind of day, all I accomplished was paying inflated prices for my groceries. Things are going to get real ugly, I expect. Let’s go, Brandon!
My darts didn’t show up last night. I can’t remember the last time I played so poorly. Hope I do better in dart league today.
Dart league teammates and friends for life. As long as it lasted.Thanks for the memories. You are missed.
After darts, I headed over to Mango’s for some grub.
You guessed it–grilled pork chops.
And that was that. Today I have the Wednesday Walkers hike followed by dart league. I reckon I’ll hang out at Baloy Beach afterward and enjoy me some adult beverages.
This is the best damn life I’ve got. Might as well enjoy it.
Not that kind. This is a Hash post. Sorry to disappoint.
I was anticipating a challenging trail, and Guenter didn’t disappoint. And that’s just the half of it. Our “sane” group elected to bypass this first portion of the trail that featured a climb to the top of Kalaklan ridge on a path everyone calls “motherfucker”. No thanks! Even so, the remaining portion featured two climbs and steep descents. In fact, the last down I hadn’t attempted since my virgin Hash way back when. Yesterday was a good reminder of why. Anyway, I lived to tell about it, so let’s get on with the story in pictures:
The white line is the way our group chose–hiking up Rizal Extension to where it intersected with the purple trail. Rizal was all uphill (about a 100M gain in elevation) but at a relatively gentle slope. Regardless, I was huffing and puffing before we ever left the pavement.I hate riding in the Hashmobile. Getting out isn’t much fun either.Is everybody here?The big guys in our group–18 Kilo Ass and Gasman.They’ll be leading our special “sausage walk” in Castillejos on Friday.Working our way up Rizal Ext.The upper echelon of Rizal…I was already breathing heavily.Off the road now, and the real climbing begins. My poor lungs!On up!Having fun, Dripping Pussy?The view from here.Our path took us past the house of my mountain friend, MJ. Nice to see you again!You can see Easter mountain from MJ’s front yard.Onward we march.The first climb is done.A pause for a photo of the sane group of Hashers.And now to get down from here.Overcast skies helped with the heat, but I was still soaked with sweat.Watch out for spiders!.In the valley.Doing the best you can with what you have.One more climb to go.Getting there.The end is almost in sight.That really gets my goat!Sticking together through the ups and downs.Mountain vista.It was a well-marked trail. Good job, Vienna Sausage, and Fuck A Duck.Leech My Nuggets did the entire trail, and this is where he passed us short cutters.The end is almost in sight. I really mean it this time!And there it is, Barrio Barretto in all her glory. On-Home is at Guenter’s place, but how do we get there from here?What’s Up Doc says, “We just go down, silly. Let’s do it!”Okay, if you say so.Damn, that’s a steep ass down.I lived to Hash another day.The view from Guenter’s place.The view of gash on ice.
After the circle, I stopped by for a couple more beers at IDM. Then I popped into Sit-n-Bull to get some takeout.
The pulled pork sandwich was one of the daily specials.And the rarely available pecan pie. I added the ice cream.
In unrelated news, I didn’t lose any weight this week. Go figure.
Started the morning with an abbreviated walk on the streets of Barretto.
It’s usually an 8K trek, but the Hashmobile pulled up alongside me, and I was offered a ride. It resolved the debate in my mind about whether to eat at Sit-n-Bull or walk on home. I liked the third option best.
When I arrived home, I got busy filling my crockpot with the ingredients for a batch of chili. Then I showered up and prepared for the arrival of an afternoon visitor.
Marla finally overcame my resistance, and I agreed to have a get-together at 1 p.m.
She’s got a certain style and grace about her. I mean, I know it’s all about the money, but money is never mentioned. None of the usual sob stories about hungry kids or bills to pay. Just “I want to see you” and “I want to be with you” entreaties. And of course, she accompanies her requests with some pictures emphasizing her ASSets. I held out as long as I could, but after all, I’m just a man.
I’ll give her this; she’s a real pro. Once we got down to business, she was quick to cater to my wants and desires. I didn’t last long. What was missing was any type of emotional connection, and for me, that ultimately makes the experience less than satisfying. Oh well, I expect my resistance will hold for at least a couple more weeks unless something better comes along.
When beer o’clock came around, I made my way to It Doesn’t Matter. Sat at the owner’s table with a couple of other guys I know and did some socializing. It was raffle Sunday, so I bought six tickets. When it came time to do the drawing, once again, three of the six tickets were winners. I came away with a 200 peso discount at IDM and dinner for two (Thai food) at Jurassic, located way out in Calapadayan. It might be worth the trip if I can find a date. I also won another packet of discount coupons for various bars around town.
One of the coupons was for Cheap Charlies. Since being ignored by the girls on my last visit, I hadn’t been back there. I decided to end the boycott, but I would ignore the girls this time. Instead of waiting to be served, I went directly to the bar and ordered a beer, bypassing the waitress. Alma, who was only guilty by association, was soon by my side. After the way I had been treated, I told her that my days of buying lady drinks at Cheap Charlies were over. That didn’t dissuade her from staying and chatting, though. And when it came time for my second drink, I relented and let her get a lady drink too. A bit later, another girl came and started the back rubbing routine. I ignored her at first, then told her of my disappointment in her previous behavior. She insisted she had been occupied with another customer that night. Oh well, it was really my fault for pretending I was ever anything more than a source of drink commissions. In the end, I bought her a drink as well. So much for my intention to be a hard ass. I guess I do enjoy playing the game.
Me and my Cheap Charlies cohorts.“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, baby?”Oops! I guess not. Oh well.
Anyway, it’s all in fun. Just don’t take any of it seriously.
aOnly on days that end in “y”
As soon as I walked outside from Cheap Charlies, the skies opened up, and the rain came down. Luckily, there was a trike waiting for me across the street. That kept some of the rain off me on the ride home.
I was hungry and knew supper was waiting for me in the crockpot.
A small batch for a lonely bachelor.Chili and corn muffins! Tasted better than it looks. It had more tang than usual because I didn’t adjust the seasoning for the reduced volume. I liked it that way, though.
I did my traditional Monday beach walk this morning, right at 5K roundtrip.
Lots of folks out enjoying the morning sun and sand.It’s good to be alive.
I’ve got the Hash coming up this afternoon. A Guenter trail and the “sane” Hash group are already plotting our shortcuts. Look for a full report tomorrow.
No one is knocking at my door. Chatted with Lyn in Angeles last night and expressed my hope she’d be coming to visit soon. She said she needs to go back to work. I suggested she look for work here in Barretto. I don’t think she’s interested in doing that. Or in me.
Just a quick update on JR. His death was the talk of the town last night. There is a lot of speculation, but the evidence supports that the throat-slashing was self-inflicted. I can imagine it being a drunken impulse responding to some severe emotional stress. Reading his Facebook condolences was very touching. He served with the US Army all over the world, including Somalia, Bosnia, Germany, and Korea. He was well-respected by his subordinates. A good man has gone too soon for sure.
Thank you for your service. You’ll be missed.
I dropped into It Doesn’t Matter. Bob, the owner, was best friends with JR. In fact, JR spent the last night of his life at IDM. There was definitely a sad vibe as folks came in to offer Bob their condolences. I left after two beers.
I decided to grab a bite to eat at John’s place. Went with the ribeye beef burger and onion rings. Also ordered some fish tacos and Korean chicken wings for the gals at my next stop, Hideaway Bar.
Watching the clouds roll in while waiting for my dinner to be served.
So, I made Joy and her friends at Hideaway happy by satiating their hunger and thirst. Well, it’s Saturday night, might as well pretend I’m a big spender.
My last stop of the evening was Alaska Club. It was just one other guy in the bar and me, and he was playing pool with the owner, Jerry. Since I’d blown my cash at Hideaway, I couldn’t treat the dancers to a drink, but I did give them each a fifty peso tip. It must be damn hard to stand up there and pretend to dance when you don’t have an audience.
I also met a new waitress at Alaska. Only 24 and very cute. During the course of our conversation, I learned that she is a cherry girl (virgin). Yeah, that’s not going to work. The funny thing (for me) was that her name is Karen. My first love and high school sweetheart was named Karen.
The new Karen got a kick out of this photo of me and the old Karen circa 1972, especially those bell-bottom pants.
I teased my new friend that meeting her tonight must have been fate: Karen was my first love, and now I’d found a Karen to be my last love. Sadly, she wasn’t buying it.
It was a good time hanging out with Miss Karen. I’ll have to drop in to see her more often.
I had a nice chat this morning with my high school Karen telling her about my fun with the new Karen I’d met. She got a kick out of that. We shared some laughs and memories about the long-ago night I’d taken her to Huntington Beach to see the submarine races. The back seat of my mom’s 1969 Plymouth Fury is where I made a woman out of her. Those were the days!
Saturday morning, I took my standard solo hike through San Isidro.
I shortened it up some in deference to the heat, though.
There is nothing new to see or photograph on this trail, so I figured I’d document the various blossoming flowers before the season ends.
The flowers are the ones in red.Fulfilling the cliche.These are purdy, doncha think?Old habits die hard.Ground flower.How many flowers do you see?I was too bushed to cross the road for a closeup.An explosion of beauty.This one has a different look about it.An example of white supremacy?Yellow fever.Because it was there.Flower trees.It was a sunny day.Up on the roof.Imprisoned flowers.And finally, right here in my front yard.
Hope you enjoyed the show. Until next time then, peace out!
Heard some sad news this morning. One of our town’s expat characters, JR Welch, committed suicide. I wasn’t close to JR, but just about everyone knew him. If he was nearby, you knew it–he was that loud and boisterous. A proud Army vet who knew how to have a good time in the bars. He was married to another acquaintance of mine, and they recently had a baby boy. Judging from the Facebook posts I’d seen, they were living a good and happy life, making it all the more shocking. You just never know what’s really going on. And perhaps there is more to the story; I saw this comment posted on FB today:
 I talked to a friend who is one of the lead investigators. They are saying suicide, and I told my friend B.S. as JR is a new Dad.In my opinion, foul play. I saw the pics, and JR’s throat was slashed. Now they are waiting on the coroner’s autopsy report.
Again, I wasn’t close to the man, but he certainly didn’t strike me as someone who would quit at anything, especially life. I’ve heard of murders being called suicide in the past–saves the police all that investigative work. And the lives of foreigners aren’t exactly valued here. Let’s hope the truth comes out, whatever it might be.
I finished second in the dart tourney last night. I threw well, but Billy threw better. I enjoyed the games, if not the outcome.
Kevin Kim posted about some controversy he created in the comments section of a blog we both read. I don’t bother much these days arguing with internet strangers; there’s not much point when you know minds won’t be changed. But I did get sucked into some drama when I answered the question, “Why do some clubs in Korea not allow foreigners inside?” this way:
Well, I lived in Korea for 12 years before retiring and moving to the Philippines. I do recall the clubs with the “Koreans only” signs out front. I didn’t really care because I don’t want to go where I’m not wanted.
I can only speculate on the reasons why foreigners weren’t welcome. But after moving to the PI,I was amused to learn that the Filipina bargirls have a universal nickname for Korean men: “triple three.” Of course, I had to ask what that meant. They laughed and said, “three inches, three minutes, three thousand pesos.”
MaybeKorean guys don’t like to compete with a full-sized man?
Yeah, I was trying to be funny. Although that really is what bargirls here call Korean men. Naturally, I awoke a couple of humorless scolds. Brina Domingez had this to say:
Well, damn. I’m a white supremacist now. Who knew? I responded to her this way:
IÂ have something else to be thankful for today: I am not you and I don’t know anyone as ignorant as you. I humorously told a story,and that makes me a white supremacist? Jesus, people like you, are why I have no desire to live in the USA.
I let Brina have the last word on Quora because I honestly don’t care enough to argue with her:
Humorous? No, you took a jab at Korean men then you finished your original comment with the “full size” crap which many can refute . Also, you don’t know me at all to make any kind of judgment especially like being ignorant. YOUR comment was ignorant, arrogant and you generalized Korean men and supported that generalization with a lame comment from of all ppl a Filipina. We all know the relation between the two aren’t always great so an opinion of one must be taken with a grain of salt. Thank goodness you aren’t here but sad you are there feeding the Filipino population with your white superiority views about us in America.
Ah, well. It’s all my skin color’s fault, I’m not responsible for anything I say or do. Someone named Jace Nation also took offense:
Weird the only dudes I know who go to the Philippine for sex tourism are middle age white American. Quite common to hear about child abuse there from American. Maybe grown women didn’t really want them back home.
Yeah, right. This is how I responded to Ms. Jace:
It’s weird that you think that way, and it also proves you don’t know what the hell you are talking about. To the extent men do come here to escape women who think as you do, can they really be blamed?
The world has gone mad.
That was a club in Pyeongtaek. I honestly don’t know the real reasons, maybe because of language barriers and cultural differences. I don’t care why and I never wanted to go. They can keep me out, and I can make jokes about penis size. That’s how it should be anyway.
You know, despite the impression I might create here with some of my posts, I am not in the Philippines for the sex. I had really hoped to find a loving Filipina to share my golden years. That hasn’t worked out yet. I’ve talked about the “friends with benefits” program I tried for a while, but that too seemed wrong somehow. Now, I just go about my days doing the things I enjoy and trying not to obsess about the things I miss and want and don’t have. I’ve accepted the reality of my solitary life. But that being said, I still get regular entreaties from ladies who want to spend time with me and my wallet. I mostly just say no nowadays, but that’s not always easy. Especially when they attach photos to their pleas:
It makes it hard. To say no, I mean.
She actually sent several more photos; some are even more revealing. She’s a cutie, that’s for sure. I’m a man who has not been known for his ability to resist feminine charms. Maybe just once more. Does that make me a bag guy? Or worse yet, a white supremacist?
By the way, the expats in my little town come from all over the world. Like their skin color, their motivations for being here vary. We all don’t fit in the same box (no pun intended).
But enough of this nonsense; let’s talk about those Three Crosses. It’s a local monument high in the hills above the Santa Rita barangay in Olongapo. Our Friday group climbed up there yesterday for a look-see. It was my first time out that way, and seeing all the new views was almost a religious experience. The steps to the top were crucifyingly difficult, but in the end, we nailed it. Jesus, puns this bad are almost criminal. Okay, I’ll stop and tell the story with the photos we took.
Our trail. Up a shitload of stairs to the crosses. Then a nice hike along the ridge before the steep climb back down. Somehow we lost where we had parked the Hashmobile and had to backtrack a kilometer or so to find it. All part of the adventure!Loading up.On the road.Offloading in Santa Rita.A local told us this was a good way to get there and we believed him.Let the climbing commence. It was primarilysteps all the way up, although in a couple of places, it was more trail-like.The neighborhood we climbed through.Still fighting the stairs, but we’ve achieved some elevation.About halfway up, we encountered this old woman living what appears to be a solitary life.Nice views from her place, though.A brief break in the stairs.The uneven steps are hard for me. I much prefer a pathway to a stairway.A brief respite.And then the stairs resumed.On and on and up and up.A look back down from whence we came.And still, we climb.And a lookup to where we are going. The fast members of the group have already achieved our goal.We have arrived!The Three Crosses sans Jesus and company.The view from here.Do Na on the rocks.Still carry that beer belly everywhere I go.Taking pride in the moment.Scott says it was the first and last time he’ll do this climb. I hope I’m going as strong as he is at 72.A final group shot, then it is time to find a different way down.Heading out through the woods.This portion was definitely the most pleasant of the day.I’d hate the commute to and from home.Linda harvested a mango for some nourishment on trail.Another view of Olongapo.Looking for the trail back down.Watch out for tarantulas!Open space at the top of the ridge.Hup, two, three, four!What do people eat up here?Oh, never mind.Time to get down from here.Slowly but surely, Mr. Scott.Still muddy and slick from last night’s rain.Hillside living.Kids up here like cookies too.Finally, back on flat ground. Now, where’s that truck?
We eventually found it. A challenging but very nice and beautiful hike. I’m glad I had the experience.
I changed things up some and hoofed out to Olongapo to visit the mall. I really did need to buy more socks. Not sure why they are hard to find, maybe because most everyone wears flip-flops around here.
On the road.Dodging traffic on the National highway…Seeing dead people along the way.Crossing the “shit” river as it was known back in the Navy days.See you Tuesday, Royal.Gordon Hospital is known to us expats as the place you go to die.
So, passing through SBMA with the police out in force and the typical Nazi-like attitude to slavemask requirements, I kept mine on my chin to pull it up whenever I saw the need. Then some pissed-off asshole came up behind me and started giving me shit.
Okay, maybe that was all in my imagination.I made it safely to my destination and was able to purchase nine new pairs of socks. No luck in the shoe department; the largest size available was a 10.
Here’s the Relive version of the hike:
I started my evening entertainment at It Doesn’t Matter. I had planned on having a couple of drinks there, then heading up the highway to John’s place for some grub. Mother Nature interceded with a downpour of rain. That’s three straight nights; it looks like the rainy season came early this year. I was without an umbrella, so I made my way to Sit-n-Bull, which was much closer.
I don’t normally order chicken parmesan, but it was one of the daily specials, so I figured I’d give it a try. It was good.
My waitress wanted ice cream (yes, I spoiled her), but Sit-n-Bull was out of stock. Went to the market next door and bought a half-gallon of the requested Double Dutch, whatever that is. Made some girls happy for five bucks. I’ll call that a win.
Went next to The Green Room, thinking I might see Marie. She wasn’t there, but some new girl kept me company. Her name tag said “Shy,” and she was just 19. Not enough in common to get me to stay for a second drink.
At darts on Wednesday, our opponents had a player who works at Thumbstar as a waitress. I wanted to get to know her a bit better, and I had a coupon to expend, so that was my next stop. She was there, so I sat her down and shared some drink bounty with her. I was surprised to learn she is 46. That’s older than my daughter, for goodness sakes. Still very attractive, though. All my jokes were new to her, so I enjoyed sharing my repertoire.
Nine o’clock was fast approaching, so I called it a night. Found a trike relatively quickly to carry me home in the rain. And that was my Thirstday.
A great hike today to a place I’ve never been before–The Three Crosses. More on that tomorrow. A couple of other things of interest you might enjoy as well. I’m running late for darts now, so come back and see what I’m talking about next time.
I’m not doing the “On this day” series, but I will share a post from May 20, 2014, where I was celebrating 2000 posts here at LTG. I’m over 4000 now, and there is no end in sight. Stick around; it can only get better!
I survived another whacked Wednesday intact. That’s more than I can say for my hiking buddy, Chris. He did the Wednesday Walkers group Hash as usual. I saw him later in the afternoon while I was on my way to darts enjoying a beer in front of the Snackbar. This morning I learned that Chris took a fall while walking home (he lives on Baloy Beach) and broke his leg. It’s going to require surgery to repair. Get well soon, Chris. It was kind of weird because during our hike yesterday, Chris told me the story of a friend of his who fell off his balcony and died. So, from that perspective, we can say that Chris is lucky it wasn’t worse. I don’t envy him the pain and suffering that lies ahead during his recovery. He’ll be missed on our upcoming hikes.
It was a nice hike, doing most of what I avoided on Monday’s Hash, but in the opposite direction. Photos to follow at the end of this post.
Darts went as well as can be expected; we won 13-0 for the second week in a row. Probably lucky we were playing the worst team in the league because, as a team, we threw like shit, and the games were a lot closer than they should have been. We are done for if we play that poorly in two weeks against the second-place team. Hopefully, we get it together by then.
I got introduced to a published author during the dart match. He graciously sent me a draft of his latest novel this morning. I’ll let you know what I think after I give it a read.
After darts, I went across the street to Da’Kudos for some dinner. I went with the enchilada plate, and it was good enough but not great. The next stop was McCoy’s on the beach. I had to tolerate the videoke again, but at least the gal singing was a cutie. I threw her some smiles from the bar, and she smiled back. The guy next to her wasn’t smiling, though.
The Beach view was nice……and so was the bay view.
Well, after an afternoon of drinking, my judgment was somewhat impaired, and I found myself sitting at the Snackbar, a place I used to frequent with my ex. They had done some remodeling since my last visit.
The wall mural featuring Mount Fiji was a nice touch. The owner used to live in Japan.The Snackbar wasn’t open when I did my Bars of Barretto feature. A couple of other new places have opened as well, so I’ll plan on doing an update soon.That’s my drunk and sad face. The ex wasn’t there, but the place was full of memories of when she was. I need to learn to stay away.I don’t know shit about any of that. But it’s okay; I’ll just keep on keepin’ on.
It started raining hard again, and so I was trapped at the Snackbar longer than my “one beer and out” plan. I guess it was still just one beer; I had a gin and soda while waiting for a break in the storm.
When the rain turned to a sprinkle, I headed out. I wasn’t sure where I’d go next, but I did have a pocketful of drink coupons from Sunday’s raffle. When I passed by the Carwash resto-bar, she was there. I waved and kept on walking. Seeing her in my state of mind would have just been too painful.
I wound up stopping in at the Lux bar, another new joint in town. I visited during their grand opening and haven’t been back. It is actually very nice inside. Three dancers on stage. I grabbed a table seat and was joined by a GRO (guest relations officer) named Ruth shortly thereafter. She was actually very pleasant to chat with and quite sexy as well. Of course, she earned herself a lady drink. Or maybe it was two.
I probably should have gone home after Lux, but on my way to find a trike, I decided to have one for the road at Outback. So, that’s what I did, then called it a night and made it home safe and sound.
Let’s do those Wednesday Walkers photos, shall we?
Our trail.Heading up the highway.Over the river.Passed by Monday’s Hash On-Home venue, Yero’s.Then we began our climb up these stairs.Lots of uneven steps which makes the going even tougher.A short rest near the top.The view from here. You can spot Easter mountain there on the left.We had heavy rain on Tuesday night, and that left the trail quite muddy. I had what felt like an inch thick coating of mud on the bottoms of my shoes.We trudged on despite the mud.I thought this was a pretty combination.Shyrel stops at a local sari-sari for some liquid refreshment.Passing through a banana plantation.Then a view from Alta Vista on my way home.
You can Relive the hike here if you’d like:
And so concludes another hiking post.
I will leave you with this gem that gave me a chuckle:
That won’t stop me from writing about it here, of course. Although as far as yesterdays go, this one was nothing special.
I’ve decided to end my experiment with the “On this day” series of old blog posts. It was a pain in the ass and not all that interesting, even to me. For example, after scrolling through seventeen years of May 18, this was the best I had to offer: What a pisser. Maybe I’ll modify the concept by only posting when something significant occurred on that day. We’ll see.
You think?
Of course, in addition to the blog archives, I’ve got Facebook besieging me with memories all the time. The hardest ones to take are the photos of Jee Yeun and me sharing what I thought was a happy life. But other ones aren’t so bad:
Eleven years ago, I had some comrades. Alistair is living a good life back in Scotland with his wife and kids. Koichi hasn’t posted anything on FB since 2017, hope he’s okay. Jim, the owner of my old hangout Dolce Vita, is still alive and kicking in Seoul. Matt is a happy camper in North Carolina. Life goes on, and memories are the only thing we take with us, I suppose.And then FB also gave me another look at my official government portrait, taken upon my promotion in 2009 to Director, Human Resources Management, Eighth United States Army/Unites States Forces Korea. Well, where we’ve been ultimately leads us to where we are. I’m living large on that sweet pension these days. Thanks again, Uncle Sam!
After doing my weekly grocery shopping, I sent my driver and helper home without me. I walked over to the mall to fill in some of the missing pieces in my life, like a fast charger for my phone and some socks. Got the charger, still looking for the socks.
I was first in darts last night. First out, that is. I had a rookie partner, and his darts were, um, all over the place inconsistent. Still, I don’t mind playing with a newbie, especially if they are willing to listen and learn. I can’t tell you how to hit a target; that comes from practice. I can, however, tell you which target to aim for and why. The guy I was partnered with last night appreciated that and seemed to understand the concepts. He’ll be OK with a bit more practice.
I was surprised to see it raining when I left Alley Cats. Hard! I made a dash across the highway and into Mango’s for some supper and didn’t get too soaked. Ordered up my usual pork chops but was told they were out of stock.
So, I settled for this roast chicken salad. Fewer calories and carbs, so that’s a good thing.
Speaking of weight loss–I did my weekly weigh-in and came in at 213.8–that’s a loss of 2.3 pounds. It’s a start; still a long way to go to get to 199 again. More gin, less beer!
It’s not raining this morning, so I’m off for the Wednesday Walkers gathering. Dart league in the afternoon on Baloy Beach. Looks like I’ll be making some new old memories.
“There’s no time to lose,” I heard her say “Catch your dreams before they slip away Dying all the time Lose your dreams And you will lose your mind Ain’t life unkind?”
Survived another week on the Hash trail. This one really wasn’t so bad. A challenging climb with lots of steps early on, then a steeper than normal descent. After that, practically a walk in the park. The overcast skies also kept the heat down some, that was a plus!
We did a new On-Home venue, a place called Yero’s, on the Subic side of the river. It was an outdoor resto-bar setup, which I prefer these days. The food was surprisingly good too. If it were more convenient to home, I’d likely be a frequent visitor.
As usual, we’ll let the pictures do the talking:
Our trail for the day. The purple line is the “shortcut” our group took. Not much shorter, but it avoided a second climb.Gathering up at the VFW.And we are On-On!The first flight of steps begins.Are you up for a climb?Step it up.The first flight ended, and then a second began.The stairs gave way to a trail, and the trail featured views like this one.Catching our collective breath.The final push to the top.Heading towards Four Corners on My Bitch.You coming, Pubic Head?The mountain family.Mountain mama Olivia is preparing a meal for her brood.Hello again.The beginning of the downhill.Steep it was.A couple of kids encountered on the way down.Cookie time!Did I mention it was steep?I got this!What’s Up Doc patiently awaits for us slowpokes to make it down.Flat earth!Over the river.Through the fields.That wall is a real pain in the ass to get down.In the shadow of Black Rock.The lonely life of a Hasher.Wide-open spaces.Ducks on a pond, er, puddle.On the Govic highway, headed for On-Home.First time at Yero’s. I expect we’ll be back.A full house of Hashers.The garlic parmesan wings were quite tasty.An example of the wall art featured at Yero’s. This one loosely translates to “I don’t give a fuck if you don’t think I’m handsome.”Perhaps you’ll notice the feature that led to What’s Up Doc getting her Hash name.Hanging out until it’s time to circle up.
So, that’s the way we rolled yesterday. Hope you enjoyed sharing the ride.
I’m going to work on rewriting these lyrics into a Hash song.
I needed a cash infusion yesterday, and I also needed exercise after my lazy Saturday, so I hoofed it on out to Subic town and raided the BPI ATM there.
There and back again was almost 10K.
It was a hot hike, and almost all of it was on the National highway, my least favorite place to walk. You need to be prepared to dodge a lot of traffic, an eclectic mix of cars, Jeepneys, trikes, and scooters at a moment’s notice. Not much beauty to be seen there either, but I did my best to find something worthy of a photograph along the way.
There was this blooming tree.This flowering bush.I guess this one is some kind of mixed-race hybrid.
And then, towards the end of the walk, I received a message from God.
I’m trying. I’m really trying!
I began my Sunday evening at It Doesn’t Matter. I once again purchased six raffle tickets for 500 pesos. During the drawing, I was pleasantly surprised to have my name called three times; each prize was for bar discount coupons at various venues around town. One of them was at IDM–500 pesos off my bar tab. So, I basically got the money invested in the raffle back, plus some “buy one, get one” bargains to be enjoyed. I’d call that a win!
After the drawing, I moved down to Wet Spot to have a chat with the gal that had professed her love for me. She wasn’t there when I arrived but showed up about thirty minutes later. As soon as she saw me, she took off and hid somewhere in the back. That seemed like rather bizarre behavior, but it was also nice to have her reveal the true nature of her character. Or at least to demonstrate that her definition of “love” does not translate in my world. I did wake up to this message from her this morning:
Sorry about last night.. sorry also about your broken heart.. i understand you not ready for a relationship for now.. i just feel a little hurt. Maybe i just forget my feelings for you.. but hope we can still be friends though.. like we used to sit together and laugh and joke lang.. see you again next time.. take care john
I wasn’t all that gracious in my response, telling her that I had come to talk and better understand her feelings. And that her behavior had given me the understanding I needed, and I thanked her for that.
Apparently, I was on some kind of roll because, for some unfathomable reason, I messaged my ex and asked how she was doing. She responded that she had seen me walking in Subic and called out to me, but I didn’t answer. I told her I had been wearing my headphones and jokingly added that I had been singing love songs to her as I walked. She sent one of those laughing emojis in response. And that’s where the conversation ended. In sober hindsight, I know that’s for the best. I’m likely still vulnerable enough to get sucked back in with the slightest encouragement from her. I’ve taken a vow to never again initiate contact. Maybe I’ve learned my lesson this time.
I didn’t stay out late last night because I had dinner cooking in the crockpot–a pot roast.
And this time, the meat was falling-apart tender, just the way I like it. I don’t know if it is because I took Kevin Kim’s advice and thoroughly defrosted the meat or if it is just a higher quality beef roast. Maybe both. I was pleased with the result, though and had some leftovers for breakfast.
Feeling energetic this morning, and so did a 5K Baloy Beach walk, despite the fact that I’ve got a Hash coming up this afternoon.
Life’s a beach sometimes.
And that’s where things stand as of now. See you tomorrow with a Hash report. In the meantime, here’s a flashback to the 1970s you might enjoyed. Is it any wonder I’m so fucked up?
I got bit by the lazy bug yesterday. Despite my good intentions, I couldn’t even be bothered to take an abbreviated morning hike. Not good for my weight reduction goal, but I did at least take a longer than usual walk this morning to try and make amends.
And I wasn’t just lazy in regards to exercise. I rarely hear from my Wet Spot gal when I’m not with her at the bar, but yesterday she sent me this message:
Hi, babe morning.. i see you tonight is that ok? We don’t have to go anywhere else for our date but to your home.
I declined her offer, telling her I wasn’t feeling well. I guess she didn’t like that.
You not sweet when you are sober ..see how you are
I told her I was sorry she felt that way. It was nothing personal, just not feeling up to it.
Is that all you can say? …i know you not feeling well but its boring answer john
I told her I was sorry to be such a disappointment and that I appreciated that she wanted to see me, but there was really nothing else I could say at the moment.
Hmm.. Ok i leave you alone now.. Hope you feel better soon.. Love you..
I didn’t respond to that, but I was admittedly taken aback by the “love you”. I had to wonder why? Other than spending a few hours sharing drinks in the bar, we’d never been together. I’m not even sure we have any common interests (other than drinking); I know she is not into hiking, for example. On the other hand, she is attractive and wants to be with me–that’s more than I get from most of the women in this town. It gave me some food for thought while I went about my Saturday night bar hopping. I did, however, intentionally avoid Wet Spot.
I also heard from Jane, the Date in Asia girl I took out a couple of weeks ago, broadly hinting that she was bored and would like to see me again. Again, I had no interest in going out on a date with her for whatever reason.
After several drinks in various locations, it occurred to me that I’m really not interested in a relationship with anyone at this point in time. Oh, I mean, a gal like Lyn who wants to go hiking with me would be nice, but she is stuck in Angeles with her kid. Just doesn’t seem meant to be. I’m going to continue to embrace this singlehood life of mine and be happy with it. Not closing any doors, but I’m not willing to settle for less than what I want either.
During my walk this morning, a Michael Nesmith song came up on my playlist, and it seems to capture pretty much what I want to say to my pursuers.
Well you and I
Travel to the beat of a different drum
Can't you tell by the way I run
Every time you make eyes at me
Yes, you cry and moan
And say it'll work out
But honey child I've got my doubts
You can't see the forest for the trees
Now don't get me wrong
It's not that I knock it
It's just that I am not in the market
For a girl
Who wants to love only me
And I'm not saying that you ain't pretty
All's I saying's that I'm not ready
For any person place or thing
To try and pull the reins
In on me
Well I feel pretty sure
That you'll find a man
Who will take a lot more than I ever could or can
And you'll settle down with him
And I know that you'll be happy
So goodbye
I'm a-leavin'I see no sense in you cryin' and grievin'
We'll both live a lot longer
If you live without me
Maybe I’ll go to Wet Spot tonight and sing it to her.
So, to the rest of my Saturday night in my cozy little barrio.
I started out at It Doesn’t Matter and quickly learned that the lovely Armie was celebrating a birthday. I guess the tradition is to have customers staple a gift donation to a money necklace. I contributed 500 pesos to this worthy cause. She really is one of my favorites. And yes, if she looks familiar, she’s the one who finished 3rd in the Fralics beauty pageant last month.
When supper time rolled around, I headed on up the highway to John’s place.
I enjoyed the sunset there……along with this delicious pulled pork sandwich.
My friend Joy, who works across the street at the Hideaway bar, messaged me that she was hungry. I dutifully delivered her an order of Korean-style chicken wings. She shared with her co-workers, and everyone seemed to enjoy them.
The look of satisfaction on Joy’s face says it all.
I decided to finish my night at the Alaska Club. When I first arrived, I was once again the only customer. That’s a little concerning for a Saturday night. There were five dancers on stage, and I was in the process of picking out my favorite when a big spender and his entourage arrived. He promptly called all the dancers down for lady drinks. I felt both relieved and inspired, so I bought the three waitresses a drink. Now everyone was happy. I know I enjoyed telling all my old jokes to a new crowd.
I wrote a post about the decline of civil political discourse called Othering.
Re-reading it this morning, I was saddened that what was happening seven years ago has only grown infinitely worse. I honestly can’t imagine any turn of events that will allow us to ever respectfully agree to disagree again.
I used to be a lot more political here at LTG until I realized it was pointless. The post linked above explains why.
