I survived the first Hash in my 69th year yesterday, so there you go. As is my custom, I channeled Frank Sinatra and did the trail My Way. I walked to the starting point at Savers on the far side of Barretto from my house and noticed that the end of Hare’s trail came through Alta Vista. So, I did the end of the trail at the beginning, and my “shortcut” took a hunk out from the middle. My version was almost the same length as the official trail, so I didn’t really cheat, not that I give a damn anyway. At my age, I’m just happy to be out and about, and I intend to stay within my limits, such as they are.
The best news was that we got an almost miraculous break in the rain during the Hash yesterday afternoon, which is a good thing, especially on the muddy hills we had to traverse. On-Home was at Blue Butterfly, which is a decent enough venue for the Hash Circle. I’m boycotting IDM, so I did my after-Hash drinking alone at Sloppy Joe’s.
Here’s how the Hash went down:
It turned out to be a pretty good day on trail, all in all.
It is raining again today, and it appears that wet will be the new normal for a while.
And that’s the way it is for now. Well, here’s a quick update on the Swan saga–a brief exchange on Messenger this morning:
Swan: One month we live together. We will be ok.
Me: That’s my hope…
Swan: We will . Thank you for everything. Thank you for always there for me. Thank you. You still understand me.
Me: Trying my best… 
Swan: I know you are. That’s why i thank you..
Seems like progress to me. We’ll see what happens next.
I think the best you can do for Swan is to be there for her. She needs the network of support, but she also needs her space, so you’re “on call.” And from the text exchange, it seems she understands you’re doing your best to be understanding.
For Swan’s part, I hope she tries a little harder to see and understand those around her so as to avoid left-handed gaffes like her unintentionally insensitive Facebook post. In dealing with grief, one of the hardest lessons is that life does indeed go on, and you either move purposefully with the flow of the river or get washed away. When my mom died, I didn’t like hearing all the “life goes on” messages that came my way, and it’s fair to say that, if you want to tell someone that life goes on, you should be mindful of timing and tact. At the same time, I’ve come to accept that lesson: life does go on. It has to. And I hope Swan eventually internalizes that lesson, too.
Great pics of the hike. Sorry to hear that more storms are heading your way. We’re dealing with some weather here as well, but it’s going to be magnificent as we get closer to the weekend. I plan to do the same 33K hike I did a couple weeks ago. Without tripping this time if possible.
Thanks, Kevin. I believe we are making slow but steady progress on our journey to find peace and contentment together. I spent the evening at her place last night. Swan’s sister and a slew of nieces were also in attendance, but Swan reassured me that next month, it would just be the two of us. Her family is nice enough; I just crave some alone time.
Good luck with your planned hike this weekend. At least you’ve identified one of the trip hazards to be on the lookout for.