I once more tried to find my way over the mountain to Rizal street, this time leaving from my subdivision and armed with all the good advice I received in the comments to my previous post. Alas, my confidence proved unwarranted.

Interestingly, at the point I picked up the path leaving Alta Vista I noted a Hash trail marking for tomorrow’s Hash:

I followed that trail for awhile as it was leading in the proper direction. I hoped that it might actually be going to Rizal street, but when it took a right fork my sense of direction (and landmarks) told me to take the path to the left.

I have no fucking idea what was up with that laundry. I mean, I could see where it had been washed in the creek but there was no shanty shack or anything else resembling a residence anywhere in sight. Not even a hammock.

Well anyway, the Hash markings were nine weeks old and not easy to follow, especially in the creek bed. At some point I lost that trail and then I lost the path altogether. That was decidedly uncomfortable. I was blazing a new uncharted path in terrain completely unfamiliar to me. I didn’t like that feeling at all. Eventually I conceded defeat and retreated to the creek again to try and regain the path, or any path for that matter. I did find something finally and followed it until I was down from the mountain. And into the valley that bumps up against my subdivision.

Ah, at least I knew where I was, but damn, I had once again made a big circle to get nowhere. And I give up. It just feels too unsafe to be wandering around the wilderness alone and clueless. I had hoped to find an easy path to Rizal street but I’m not sure now that it exists. I mean, there is definitely a path that leads there, but not one that I feel safe hiking by my lonesome.

Well, on the bright side you my readers will not have to endure another post like this one!

UPDATE: Yikes! This is the fifth time I’ve used the “Curses, foiled again” title.

August 2010 about watching The Wire and going to E-mart.

November 2011, a one-liner linking to a story about the Happy Meal ban in San Francisco.

February 2014 in which I posted this cartoon (my nickname used to be “the Walrus”).

And finally, March 2014 where I go on a rant about my dealings with the Social Security Administration and the Department of Homeland Security and their race to the bottom for the most incompetent government agency award. Of course, the joke was on me. Jee Yeun finally got her status completed and then threw it all away. Me included.

I’ve been trying to find a back way out of my subdivision and over the mountain to Barretto, specifically to wear Rizal road dead ends. I know such a pathway exists because I hashed it once but try as I might I haven’t been able to find that trail.

It’s a pretty big deal for me to even attempt walking these backwoods paths on my own anyway. Overcoming my fear of getting hurt or lost has taken some time. There was a moment yesterday when I’m out in the middle of the wilderness and I encounter a man walking towards me–carrying a machete! Despite my feelings of vulnerability we exchanged a hearty greeting and went on our separate ways. So sometimes you just have to feel the fear and do it anyway I suppose.

My plan was to approach the mission of discovery from a different perspective–I determined to start my walk from the end of Rizal street. That was a good 45 minute hike the long way around from my house. Once I got off the road I figured my innate sense of direction would lead me to the proper trail back to Alta Vista subdivision. Turns out my sense of direction is similar to that of another famous explorer…Christopher Columbus. Except I didn’t see any Indians.

Long story short, after wandering around on the mountain for awhile the trail I discerned to be the correct one led me back down. And I found myself on Rizal street! Damn it!

Speaking of being stymied, Facebook twisted the knife in my heart by sharing this memory from 2 years ago:

Talk about going in circles.

UPDATE: Damn, turns out I’ve used “Stymied” as a post title once before–July 2016. It was about a medical issue I was experiencing. Is there no depth to the lack of depthness I’m willing to expose my readers to? Apparently not!

I got a message from a reader asking if I was okay. I said yes, why do you ask? She replied that I hadn’t posted since January 1 so she just wanted check up on me. Well, thanks. I appreciate that.

Fact is I kinda sorta had a goal to post something here every day. You know, in true diary fashion. But damn, the days all run together into a sameness that makes it difficult sometimes to come up with anything interesting to say. Yeah, I know. That’s never stopped me before. And honestly, I’m not bored nor am I complaining about my lot in my life. I truly am enjoying my time here for the most part.

Anyway, this blog is what it is. I don’t delve into politics much these days and while I maintain a healthy interest in the world around me I just don’t have much to contribute to the conversation. Just call me a passive observer. So I reckon I’ll just continue to write about my life here for whatever that’s worth. And I’ll give you photos too. Lots of photos! Like these:

Once the sun went down things got pretty wild at the bar. Wild in the sense that a gal at the next table took all her clothes off and was dancing naked. Unfortunately she was fat and ugly which made it easy to avert my eyes. Ah well, Justin had another memory to carry home with him.

Not sure which is worse, my writing or my photography. But I’ll endeavor to give you healthy doses of both in the future. Stick around!

UPDATE: The first time I used the “On the Water” title for a blog post was nearly seven years ago, January 6, 2012. It was on the occasion of visiting my high school buddies Rod and Pat Headlee on their sailboat when they were passing through the Carolina’s.

The nephew wanted to get out of town and see something new. I had considered taking him to a neighboring island (Bohol) but given the holidays and all just couldn’t fit it in. Instead we took a day trip to nearby Pundaquit (Poon-Dock-It). I had been there once before for a Hash event, but that time we did the mountain trail, not the beach.

Anyway, it was a nice change of pace I reckon.

And that’s how my night went.

“You take a risk giving your heart to anybody. But every time your heart gets stomped on, you pick it up, brush it off, and start looking for somebody else to give it to. You know the risk and you accept it, gladly, because the payoff is worth it. And any love that qualifies itself, any ‘I love her but I don’t trust her’ love, isn’t really love. If you’re not risking everything you have, it’s not love. Ya pays yer money and ya takes yer chances.”
–Steve Rosse

No real significance to that, other than I like it. It’s from a writer I met online and I rather fancy his work. I had posted that quote on FB two years ago and it popped up in the “memories” feature this morning. To be clear, no I have not fallen in love, by Mr. Rosse’s definition or any other for that matter.

Speaking of Facebook, my nephew posted this about our adventure yesterday:

Note to self: When Uncle John asks if you want to go on a walk, what he really means is a three hour, ten mile hike up and down a mountain in 90 degree weather. Exhausted but enjoyed some great views of the city.

Here’s some pics:

One of the guys on the hike was an Englishman. I swear to God I can hardly understand a word he says. So this made me laugh when I saw it this morning:

And that’s about it from here.

My first Christmas in the Philippines has been a quiet one. So far at least.

Lazed around the rest of the morning, then headed out to Mango’s for my the Christmas dinner buffet. I reserved for six, but didn’t have that many unoccupied friends.

As per usual, Mango’s did an excellent job on the meal. I thought the shrimp appetizer was a nice touch.

Came home and had a nice nap. Now I guess there’s nothing left to be done but venture out and see what’s happening in the Barrio on Christmas night.

Merry Christmas to you all!

A pretty exciting day with the Hash. As I mentioned yesterday, this run was all about the children. We walked the streets passing out Christmas joy in the form of candy. The kids seemed to enjoy it!

It was a short trail (4 kms) all on pavement so I was able to convince Marissa to join in on the fun. She’ll tag along when I walk Buddy and sometimes will consent to walking back to her place (both take about 30 minutes) but otherwise she’s not much into hiking. Says the sun turns her brown. We actually had overcast skies yesterday and some drizzle so that wasn’t an issue. Justin also joined in, although he was technically not a virgin because he did the initiation ritual when he was here in September.

I spent a lot of time on the ice, one of the perils of bringing newbies into the circle. I got punished for their rookie mistakes. A made a couple of my own as well. I also got the Hashit (more on that later). Anyway, it’s all in good fun. I’ve got the photos to prove it!

With the candy all gone, we headed “on-home” to Midnight Rambler for the after Hash activities. We dined on curry chicken and rice…

After our meal, it was time to convene the Hash circle. I was looking forward to seeing Marissa’s initiation and her reaction to some of the bawdy songs and shit talk that makes the Hash the Hash.

The first order of business is to go around the circle and have everyone introduce themselves. When it got to Justin, who does not have a Hash name yet, the Grand Master (HIV) asked Justin who brought him and he responded “John”.

And then it came time for Marissa’s initiation, along with two other females. When HIV was interviewing her, he asked her who her sponsor was…

Anyway, part of the initiation is you have to guzzle a full bottle of beer without the bottle ever leaving your lips. As we say at the Hash, “it’s like a blowjob…what doesn’t go in you goes on you!” Marissa managed about half a bottle so I got to pour the remainder over her head. She was a good sport about it though.

Now for whatever reason HIV really took a liking to Marissa. He made several comments about her shirt emblazoned with the word “salty” on the front. And then is a rather unprecedented move, he decided to name her then and there (you normally have to complete five Hashes prior to being named.

But the fun wasn’t over yet. HIV had been awarded the “Hashit” last week, so this week he got to choose who would receive the Hashit “honor”. And he chose me. I’m not exactly sure why, if he said I don’t remember. Probably a culmination of all the stupid stuff I had done that night.

Anyway, it was quite a night!

I finally made it out to the third of three floating bars here in my quaint little village of Barretto; the Kokomo’s floater. Smallest but in some ways better than the ones at Arizona and Blue Rock. For one thing, zero drink pressure (although the girls are as thirsty as ever, they do wait to be asked!). I think the smaller size creates a more friendly vibe as well.

My only real complaint I guess was the comfort room situation. One toilet for everyone on board and no pooping allowed. Well, I don’t care about pooping in a public toilet anyway, but sometimes the wait time for peeing was extraordinarily long. I almost peed my pants once while I was waiting. And of course the culprit was one of the waitresses whom I suspect was busy with something other than urination. Oh well, I survived.

For the second time of the day I was recognized by a bargirl which is always a little disconcerting. The massage girl on the floater asked me if I remembered her, I shrugged and shook my head. She said she used to give me a back rub at Rum Jungle. Oh ok. Nice to see you again. Earlier during the day while walking with Justin an hour from the house and in an unfamiliar and somewhat dicey looking area, I observed a cute young gal with a sweet ass. As I was admiring her beauty, she turned around and gave me a smile. I of course smiled back. Then she said “hello, John”. I was gobsmacked because I had no idea who she was or how she knew my name. So I just said “um…” and stood there looking confused. She said “I work at Cheap Charlies”. Ah okay. Well, I know I’ve never bought her a drink (I have a set of regulars for that). I’m definitely going to look for her next time I’m there though. Wish I had had the good sense to ask her name. Oh well, I’ll find her. And I know where she lives. Damn, wouldn’t this make a great love story?

Later today will be the “candy run” Hash. We will walk the streets of Baretto and hand out candy to the street urchins sweet children we encounter. Justin and Marissa will be making their virgin appearance with the Hash. That should be fun, especially witnessing their initiation ritual during the after-Hash circle.

I’m in the process of baking a carrot cake today for the holiday. Christmas dinner tomorrow will be at Mango’s.

Best wishes to you all for a special holiday season and a very merry Christmas!

Justin and I gave the Blue Rock floating bar a go yesterday afternoon. It’s anchored off Baloy Beach and is similar to the Arizona floater but without all the bargirl drink pressure. I like that!

There’s one more floating bar yet to visit, Kokomo’s, also on Baloy Beach. Maybe tomorrow.

After the floating bar, Justin went off to play Trivia at Alley Cats bar and I headed over to Cheap Charlies for some brews. A nice gal named Andi kept me company. First time we’ve chatted but my regular gal Maya did not appear to be working. Andi was a fine substitute. 34 years old and three kids, the youngest being only 1. Deal breaker for me.

Honestly speaking, being a bargirl is a deal breaker for me. I’m not talking about the prostitutes, Cheap Charlies like Alley Cats does not feature “take out”. The girls work for drinks only. But when I dropped into Alley Cats after trivia I sort of had my eyes opened to the fact that I don’t want a girlfriend who makes a living being friendly to random guys. Yeah, I know that’s hypocritical because I too partake in companionship for the price of a drink. But it just feels different somehow to observe it.

Last night I popped into Alley Cats to finish my night. I brought along some take out food for the girls. Marissa was with a customer when I arrived so I sat as far away as possible and tried to ignore her. When her customer left, she came over to join me and partake in the food. And then another customer came in and she was up and gone. I paid my tab and left.

Okay, I have professed here that Marissa is just a friend. So why would that bother me? I know it is her job, but somehow it just made me feel like I’m worth less than the price of a drink to her. A good reminder of why I shouldn’t allow myself to get emotionally involved with a drink whore.

Anyway, I’m not going to let it get me down. It’s the fucking holiday season after all. Yesterday I got videoed into the Christmas luncheon gathering of my former team.

I walk my Buddy every morning and for some reason I decided to take a picture of all the street signs in my neighborhood. I don’t know why, but I think that most of them being named after American national parks is kind of interesting. Anyway, here they are:

Now, wasn’t that fun?

And the sign says, “Long-haired freaky people need not apply.”
So I tucked all my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why.
He said “You look like a fine, upstanding young man – I think you’ll do.”
So I took off my hat and said, “Imagine that! Huh… me, working for you!” Woah-oh-oh.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere there’s signs.
Blocking out the scenery. Breaking my mind.
Do this! Don’t do that! Can’t you read the signs?

And the sign says, “Anybody caught trespassing will be shot on sight”
So I jumped on fence and I yelled at the house,
“Hey! What gives you the right… To put up a fence to keep me out,
“Or to keep Mother Nature in?
“If God was here, He’d tell it to your face. ‘Man, you’re some kind of sinner.'”

Signs, Signs, Everywhere there’s signs.
Blocking out the scenery. Breaking my mind.
Do this! Don’t do that! Can’t you read the signs?

“Oh, say now mister, can’t you read?
“You got to have a shirt and tie to get a seat.
“You can’t even watch, no, you can’t eat. You ain’t supposed to be here!”
And the sign says, “You gotta have a membership card to get inside.” Hooh!

And the sign says “Everybody’s welcome to come in and kneel down and pray.”
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all,
I didn’t have a penny to pay.
So I got me a pen and paper and I made up my own little sign.
I said, “Thank you Lord for thinking about me. I’m alive and doing fine.”

Not that having nothing to say ever stopped me from not saying it.

A pleasant hike with the Wednesday Walkers yesterday. Until I walked smack dab into a low hanging roof eave. Saw stars but no serious damage other than a bruise on my forehead.

As seems to be a regular occurrence on these walks, there were the usual hiccups along the trail. Yesterday after getting about 3/4 of the way up the mountain we lost the trail. Repeated efforts to find our way to the top, including blazing our own trail, resulted in dead ends or terrain too steep to climb. So backtracking and going in circles were the order of the day. It gets a little frustrating, but that I guess is just part of the Wednesday adventure.

In other news, I continue to instruct Justin in the ways of life here.

He seems to be a quick learner!

I actually really enjoyed yesterday’s trail.  About the right length for this time of year (gets dark early).  I’d say 3/4 of the hike was through neighborhoods and the rest through scenic countryside.  Two hills but no mountains.  And a banka boat ride across the river at the end.  As I told the Hare at the Hash circle, it was the perfect trail for old men.

As per usual, let’s let the pictures do the talking:

After the Hash, went to Angeles to pick up my nephew Justin from the airport.  The trip went without incident which is always a good thing.  Justin will be here for two weeks so I’ll enjoy showing him around some.

Stay tuned!

…or chicken fried?  Either way, it was damn good.

Anyway, I neglected to include yesterday’s breakfast in my “24 hours” post.  It’s rare to even see this offered on a menu, at least in my experience.  And damn, look at the size of those portions.  As good as it was I could barely eat half of it.

People rag on the food in the Philippines, especially in comparison to what’s available in Thailand.  Well, that may be true for local dishes but I’m having no problem getting my belly full on Western comfort foods that I enjoy.

Speaking of which, I finally got back under 200 pounds.  Those ten pounds I gained during my visit in the USA took more than a month to shed.  I’m still not as disciplined diet-wise as I ought to be, but I do monitor my weight/blood pressure/resting heart rate everyday.  I want to stay healthy so I can continue to live large (without getting large).

Life’s good.

…since my last post.  Here’s what went down:

I continued my efforts to channel Magellan, exploring new and better paths for my daily walking excursions.

Then in the afternoon it was off to play in the dart tourney.  What made that interesting was that I drew Alan as my partner.  Alan doesn’t like vaping and I don’t like him.  I wrote about our falling out here.  Since that day back in October we haven’t spoken.  When we learned we were going to be dart partners he muttered “well, that’s awkward.”  I told him no big deal, let’s just play and have fun.  And that’s what we did, finishing in second place.  I did try to be polite and not vape around him while we played.

After darts I suggested to Cherry and Marissa that we go out to Arizona for dinner.  They were down with that, and when we arrived I asked the waitress if our food could be delivered to the floating bar.  And it was.

Now, I’m not on the floating bar all that much, but it was pretty strange last night.  On the other side of the bar a group of young men were in celebration mode, and one of the “waitresses” was helping them celebrate with some sexy dance moves.  I recognized the waitress as the wife of one of the Hashers.  And then the lights went out and the sexy dancing turned to, well, it appeared to be some form of sex.  The oral variety anyway.  It was dark and I didn’t have a clear view, but I did see panties coming down.

Of course I’m at a table with five other ladies and I didn’t really appreciate being forced to sit in the dark.  My complaints were ignored though.  Those guys were spending big money on drinks.  We left shortly thereafter and in the lobby of the Arizona was the Hash guy.  I greeted him and he told me he was waiting for his wife to finish work so they could head out to Angeles City.  Good luck with that I thought to myself.

So, I brought Marissa home with me and Tere (my helper) did her rude disappearing act.  Well, I was drunk and I’d had enough of that behavior.  So I gave her a demonstration of my big voice.  She hollered back about her “phobia” (which only seems to apply to women I bring home).  Anyway, it was pretty ugly.  I went to bed thinking I was going to have to fire Tere.

This morning we had a long talk though and she seemed sincere that she is trying to do better and wants to overcome her “phobia”.  I told her I don’t care if you don’t want to hang out when I have company, but I do expect you to be polite to my guests.  Otherwise Tere does a good job and I’d prefer to keep her.  We’ll see.

18,000 steps so far today and I still have the Hash to do.  Tonight I’ll be heading to Clark Airport in Angeles City to pick up my nephew Justin who’s visiting for the holidays.

And that brings y’all up to date on my so-called life.