A scout’s honor

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I’m bound for the La Union Anniversary Hash this morning.

All my bags are packed, and I’m almost ready to go. Except I can’t shut down the laptop without posting something for the LTG faithful before I depart. So, here it is:

Swan and I have been drafted to serve as Hares for the Subic Hash on November 16. So, yesterday morning, we went out to scout a trail. The plan is to journey to, up, and over Black Rock, down the other side, and then circle back to the On-Home at Johansson’s. We’ll start there, too, for the rare “A-to-A” Hash experience. We’ll also mark a trail for those who want to bypass the Black Rock climb, as well as a short trail for the wimps (it’s only “sane” when I do it). Anyway, here is some of what we saw along the way:

The trail will start with a walk along the National Highway.
Then we’ll pass through the Santa Monica subdivision.
On the streets of Santa Monica.
We’ll take the back way out here.
Our first encounter with diceyness. We made it across with dry feet, but it was iffy.
The back way we took brought us here.
Then a brief jaunt on the Govic Highway.
The candy girl doing her thing.
The medium and short trails will veer off here, avoiding the Black Rock climb.
Time to get back to my roots and a climb it change.
Up we go.
A view on the way up.
No idea why it is called Black Rock.
Summit achieved!

Here’s a quick video showing the panoramic views from Black Rock:

The Matain side of things.
Looking down on Calapacuan. Doesn’t everybody?
Way off in the distance you can see the Seatrium Shipyard.
Time to make our way back down. The climb up is relatively easy, the getting down, not so much.
At least when it’s dry, the rocks are not slippery.
But you need to tread carefully and watch your step.
Back on flat ground.
A valley view.
Swan says those are squash blossoms. They were too pretty to step on though.
A brief jungle trek.
I see dead people.
Swan’s mother and brother are buried here. She paused to say hello.
Rest in Peace. I couldn’t help but notice Swan’s mother was older than me. By a month.
This place will be packed on Sunday. All Saints Day is a very big deal in the Philippines.
Another respite from the pavement.
Then back on the streets of San Isidro. Swan used to live in this neighborhood.
Crossing the river on Bridge #3.
Up the hill into Alta Vista.
See you, Easter Mountain.
Litter even grows on trees here. Who knew?
On the streets of Alta Vista.
A back way out of our gated (but unfenced) subdivision.
Heading down to Barretto.
A new record for the youngest person I’ve seen on a funeral banner. Only 1 month old. Sad.
Where we will start and finish the Hash on November 16.
Not bad for an old fucker, right? We started from my house, so the actual trail will be a tad under 8.

Our evening outing took us to It Doesn’t Matter, then we finished things off at Cyclone Bar. I challenged my waitress to a game of pool, figuring the practice could only do me good. Then, when I saw she had her own stick, I knew I was in for an ass-kicking. Oh, well. Perhaps there are lessons in losing.

From the March 2023 LTG archives, a follow-up to that “date with Mary” post. It seems Narissa, a girl from Cheap Charlies, that had joined me on a day trip to Bataan, saw me and Mary on the roof at BarCelona (Cheap Charlies is across the highway), and unfriended me on Facebook. When I went to see her and asked what had happened, she was angry because I hadn’t told her I was seeing someone else. Um, excuse me? I wasn’t in any kind of relationship with Narissa, physical or otherwise, so why would I have had an obligation to inform her that I was going on a date? Anyway, Narissa declared me to be a “player,” and that’s where things ended between us. To me, it felt like I had dodged a bullet. Who needs the drama? Still, it’s a good example of small-town living, where everyone knows everyone else’s business.

Today’s YouTube video talks about crab mentality and gossip syndrome here in the Philippines. I’ve experienced it firsthand, and it was shocking. I’m far from an angel, but damn, some of the lies being told about me were disgusting. It goes with the turf, I suppose, but that doesn’t make it right.

I just can’t seem to stop myself:

Poor Tiffany. No one else would lick that.
Is that you, Narissa?
Lucky man!

By golly, I got it done! Looking forward to a weekend of adventure in La Union. I’ll tell you all about it at my first opportunity.

It’s 1973, the year I graduated from high school and moved out of my parents’ house. Music was a big part of my life, so I was surprised to see that the #1 song wasn’t a rocker. Honestly, I like this song better now than I did back then.

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