At the hop

Well, technically we were at the SOB dance competition, but you know what I mean.

Friday night at Alaska Club with the nephew waiting for the contest to begin…
Now, that’s more like it!
This gal was on fire!
No ifs, ands, or butts about it…
Justin and I were asked to be judges, a responsibility we took very seriously.

Anyway, it had been quite a while since I’ve attended an SOB and it was a nice way to welcome Justin back to town. One of the raffle prizes I won was for a free night’s lodging at the Treasure Island Resort. Something I don’t personally need, but it gave me an idea. I’ve mentioned my support for a friend with five kids as my current charity project. I figured a day at the beach/pool is something they might enjoy. So I booked a room in her name and made their day. Which makes mine too. Funny how that works.

All checked in and ready to party!

Yesterday morning we joined a group hike out to Castillejos (pronounced Cast-till-lay-hos, I’d been saying it wrong, although I guess as a reader you wouldn’t have known that). It’s about 10K west of Barretto.

So we crammed ourselves into a Jeepney and headed out.
It was a beautiful day for a hike. We were joined by fellow Hashers Pubic Head, Blow My Pipe, and his girlfriend Bloody Monday.
I wasn’t really keen on crossing this bridge…
…but cross it we did.
Caught my breath under this tree on the way up to the top of the mountain.

And that’s about as far as we got. See, the thing about the non-Hash hikes is that we are more or less winging it. And sometimes the trail just doesn’t pan out. Once we were at the summit, the trail, such as it was, disappeared in the tall thatch grasses. After some discussion, we elected to retreat and retrace our steps back down the mountain. I really hate having to do that, but I was on board with the decision to do so. Just wasn’t worth the risk of getting lost. Or worse.

The yellow is what we were shooting for, the red is what we wound up with. So, all told we managed just under 6K.
This photo speaks volumes about life in the Philippines. They’ve done a nice widening and upgrade of the highway. But that couldn’t be bothered to relocate the telephone pole. And to make matters worse, the pole is ready to fall over. No problem, they just attached a wire to hold it in place. HaHa, we used to have a saying “good enough for government work”. I guess the same principle applies here…

Anyway, we had somewhere to be after our hike. The Roadhouse bar in Castillejos (there, I pronounced it right that time). Yeah, we needed some beers, but this was also for a special event. Some of the Hash girls (Harriettes) have started a business making a liqueur beverage. So they have been going to various establishments giving out samples and selling their wares. They call their company “Creme De Crop”, which may not be grammatically correct, but what do I know?

In the Roadhouse.
And of course, I was coerced convinced to make a purchase…
This sign behind the bar really spoke to my heart.
Justin took a fancy to this bargirl…
And then, the five brave Saturday hikers said our goodbyes and left the building…

But we weren’t quite done yet. Pubic Head mentioned another bar up the highway called The Goat Locker. It’s run by a retired Navy guy. And Goat Locker turns out to be Navy jargon for a galley on-board ship. You learn something new every day.

On the walk over, I saw this signage for a new burger joint that is getting ready to open. It’s already been erected. I’m sure folks are very excited and ready to cum inside. Ahem.
The Goat Locker had this sign, but it proved to provide me only false hope. No panties opened while I was there anyway.

The Goat Locker was a small and friendly place and we enjoyed a couple more beers there. There Creme De Crop gals came down and sold the locals several more bottles of their concoction. A successful afternoon indeed!

And in a first for me, we took the bus back to Barretto. Much more comfortable than a Jeepney, and only about 10 pesos (20 cents) more for the fare.
Lucky in the yard.
And Buddy doing his yard time as well.
What would Buddha do? Anyway, it made me laugh.
Two years ago on Boracay. Happy birthday, Loraine.

And life goes ever onward. Until it doesn’t. Just gonna enjoy the ride while it lasts.


Well, you can rock it you can roll it
You can stop and you can stroll it at the hop
When the record starts spinnin’
You chalypso when you chicken at the hop
Do the dance sensation that is sweepin’ the nation at the hop

Ah, let’s go to the hop
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop
Come on, let’s go to the hop

Well, you can swing it you can groove it
You can really start to move it at the hop
Where the jockey is the smoothest
And the music is the coolest at the hop
All the cats and chicks can get their kicks at the hop

Let’s go!
Let’s go to the hop
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop

3 thoughts on “At the hop

  1. So how were you pronouncing “Castillejos”? In proper Spanish, it would be “kahs-tee-YEY-hos” because the double-L in Spanish is equivalent to the “y” sound in the English word “yes.” E.g., La Jolla = “la hoya.” If the L’s are being pronounced the English way, then I’d venture that that’s a Texan (mis)pronunciation. But in cases like that, the proper pronunciation is whatever the proprietor says it is.

    “Just under 6K” seems like a Hash-worthy distance to me, especially given the mountainous terrain.

  2. Yeah, my original bad pronunciation was saying “Castille-hos”. Hey, a vestige of the Spanish colonial period and they say “Castille” in Spain, right? Anyone, I compounded my error by misrepresenting the correct way to pronounce Casillejos. I asked a Filipino to say the name slowly for me, and indeed, I heard the “yeh” of the double “L” in there. I’m on a roll with fuck-ups lately it seems…

  3. Ah, gotcha. A “castillo” is a castle in Spanish. “Castille” is more of a French spelling.

    Hago castillos en la arena .
    I make castles in the sand.

    Barely remembered from Spanish class.

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