Category Archives: Hash

Roughin’ it or wussin’ it?

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A swingin’ Valentine’s Day.

The long day’s journey into night began with a 7 a.m. pickup by our driver, Bong. The first stop was the gas station to fill up with 2500 pesos’ worth of fuel for the trip. Then we met fellow Hasher Beth (BF’s Wet Spot), loaded her camping gear into the car, and were ready to hit the road. I put the destination into my Google Maps app, and we were on our way.

It was an uneventful drive until we reached the end of the expressway. Google told us to go one way and driver Bong wanted to take the route to Baguio he was familiar with. I told him, “up to you,” and we proceeded his way. Normally, the map apps recalibrate to follow the chosen road. Not this time. The Google voice kept telling us to turn around, so I knew something was wrong. I advised Bong that since we weren’t technically going to Baguio City (the venue is actually in Tuba, Benguet), we should go the way Google wants us to. That turned out to be the right call. I spoke with a Hasher who went the other way, and it took him an additional 2.5 hours due to heavy traffic in Baguio.

I’ve always been fond of mountain drives and enjoyed many journeys in the Rockies and Sierras when I lived in the USA. That said, I don’t recall a more narrow, twisty-turny, steep route than the one that took us to our final destination. The excitement was heightened by blind-corner passing, necessitated by idiots who parked and blocked one of the two lanes. It was both a beautiful and a scary ride, but Bong got us there alive.

There were also a couple of impressive tunnels we passed through on the way up, including this one-lane version.
Destination achived!
We arrived at 11:30 and things were still being prepared for the afternoon Hash gathering.
We pitched a tent for Beth and one for Bong.

I opted to stay in a kubo instead of a tent.

My lodging for the night. Don’t let looks deceive you.

That’s kubo #2 (out of three units). Inside, there are FOUR separate rooms, two down and two up.

Looking through the kubo’s front door, you can see two of the rooms. I was thankful to be in the lower room, but later, maybe not so much.
Inside our “room.” I’ve seen bigger walk-in closets. And that thin mattress pad was better than sleeping on the ground, but not much.
I can’t say we weren’t warned.

Oh, there were two toilets behind our kubo, shared by the four guest rooms. The toilets didn’t flush, so you scooped buckets of water into them until the nastiness went away.

Also, the kubos weren’t at the campsite; you had to walk down quite a few steps to get to them. I didn’t count how many, but I was sweating bad when I walked back up to camp.

This photo is from the campsite. That red car down there is parked across the road from the kubos.

But the worst part of the kubo experience was the noise. I swear, every time the person sleeping upstairs from us rolled over on the bed, we could hear the bamboo loudly creaking through the floor. And whoever it was did a lot of tossing and turning throughout the night. All in all, a tent with an air mattress would have been preferable.

Oh, and speaking of noise, someone at the campsite was doing karaoke until one in the morning or so. Luckily, we were far enough away that it didn’t bother us much. I mean, it couldn’t drown out the creaking floor from upstairs. Bong, in his nearby tent, said it kept him awake.

I guess this rule doesn’t apply when the Hash has rented all the space.

Anyway, enough bitching about the minor shit like accommodations, we came for the Hash! We were checked into our room a little after twelve. A Hash lunch was scheduled for 1:30 with the trail due to begin at 2:30. So we had some time to look around.

Loved the signage on the bar.
Swan had a swingin’ good time.
A little bit further up the hill was an actual motel-like room. Wish I’d known about that beforehand. It was already booked by a LUH3 Hasher, of course.
Looking back down at the campground.
Hey, good lookin’!
Beth, Swan, and Bong at the campsite. Bong wasn’t a Hash participant, but we’d packed plenty of food and beers for him to help pass the time.
Other arriving Hashers setting up camp. I understand there were thirty tents, all told.

I was surprised to see that food delivery was available up here (presumably from Baguio), but at the appointed time, a motorcycle rider pulled up with twenty boxes of pizza. Each Hasher was afforded two slices, and I ate mine in due course.

And then right before the Hash run was set to begin, this happened. Yep, those clouds are full of raindrops.

I was really on the fence about the Hash trail. There was no “easy” trail available, and the Hare assured me that shortcutting wasn’t possible either. On the plus side, the trail wasn’t long (around 5K), but on the flip side, it was steep downs and ups the entire length.

Last-minute guidance from the Hare, Booked Up. Well, fuck it. I came to Hash. Let’s go!
We began by going down the super steep road leading to the campground. With each step, I was dreading the thought of hoofing it back up here at the end of the trail.
And oh yeah, it was still raining.
The view from here.
Time for a pee break.
After a kilometer or so on the highway we came in on (all downhill), we got off the pavement and continued our downward journey. You don’t see any other Hashers because we were bringing up the rear by a long shot.
That path took us through this pigsty, and then into the jungle.
Damn, this down was a lot more difficult than I’d bargained for.
But the up was so much worse!

And then, when we got to the top, the trail almost immediately headed back down through the jungle. Fuck that! I could see some nice houses and figured there must be a road to reach them, so the search was on. And by golly, we found not only a road, but the actual highway leading back to the On-Home campground. Better yet, it was part of the Hash trail. I consulted Google Maps just to make sure, but we were on the road to success. Which, of course, is always uphill. Also, I’m a master shortcutter!

And then we got passed by the female Hasher known as Front Running Bitch (I don’t think that’s her actual Hash name, but she is consistently the first LUH3 Hasher to finish the trail.
That relentless uphill highway walk totally kicked my ass. And when I was faced with that long, hard climb back up to the campground, I had to sit down and contemplate options.

And I decided to call Bong to come down and pick me up. Yeah, I’m not proud of it, but I was wiped out.

Much harder than it looks. At least it was for me

Back in the safe confines of the Hash On-Home, I do what most Hashers do after a grueling trail: I opened a bottle of beer, sat down, and waited for dinner to be served.

The burgers hot off the grill were muy bien!
Hungry (and thirsty) Hashers filling the void.
The rain stopped, but then the fog rolled in. I figured the sunset I was hoping to enjoy was doomed.
But the horizon did clear up some a bit later.
And we got to see some color.
I was seeing red by the time it was done.

La Union Hash Circles are much more mellow than the ones in Subic, and that’s fine with me. We all pulled up our chairs around the bonfire and enjoyed the comraderie.

Flame on!

I stuck around later than usual, hoping the beers would help me sleep through the night. As I mentioned earlier, they didn’t. I slept in bits and pieces, eventually giving up around 6 am. We packed our gear and headed up the stairs to the campsite.

The morning view from in front of our kubo.
And a morning campsite view. You can barely make it out on the mountainside, but that’s as close as we got to Baguio this trip.
Here, let me zoom in on it for you. Of course, that’s only a small portion of the large city of Baguio.

Bong and Beth were up and about shortly after we got to the campsite. The Hash breakfast wasn’t scheduled until 9, so we packed up our gear, said our goodbyes and thank-yous, and headed for home. Google Maps unsurprisingly took us back the same way we came.

Going down the mountain, I thought to myself, those rock retaining walls wouldn’t keep a vehicle from plummeting over the edge into nothingness.

And if that happened, you would never land.
We were above the clouds.

And now I’m back in Barretto safe and sound. Feeling tired, though, for some reason.

So, dear readers, I’ll leave it up to you: Did I rough it, or am I a pussy? At least I lived to tell about it.

I’ll get back to the usual posting BS tomorrow. Thanks for stopping by.

The wild blue yonder

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My VD gift from Swan.

Just a quick post before I head for the mountain city Baguio to take part in the La Union Valentine’s Day Hash. The event includes an overnight campout at a place called The Green Narra. I’m a tad nervous about how this adventure might play out for me, but you only live once.

It’s been a long time since I’ve roughed it.

It gets chilly up in the mountains, so hopefully the sweatshirt I bought in Vietnam will keep me warm during the Hash Circle. I’m pretty sure trekking up and down the surrounding hills will have me huffing and puffing up a good sweat.

Here’s a walkabout video showing what the camping area looks like.

I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you how it went. Wish me luck!

Where cripples tread

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I’m not against descending; it’s the ups I find difficult.

Yesterday’s Hash trail was almost completely flat. Well, to clarify, the “cripples” trail had no hills. I’ve now deemed Leech My Nuggets to be the overall best Hare in the Subic Hash. His trails are always well-marked and easy to follow. And Mr. Leech always offers an option for those Hashers who are no longer up for the challenge of a long, hard climb. I enjoyed the 5K version of the trail very much, as it took me through areas I hadn’t seen before. In fact, I’ll be adding this hike to my repertoire and revisiting it in the future. Our On-Home venue was at a Hasher’s house in Calapadayan, which we’d never been to before. It’s situated right on the edge of the bay and was a very pleasant hangout for our Circle. Overall, it was one of my better Hash experiences.

So, the trail began at Subic High School near Waltermart, a 7K Jeepney ride from Barretto. Here’s some of what I saw during the Hash:

Off we go!
Only a month younger than me. RIP Rodolfo.
The first of several bridges we crossed on our journey. Also, the sturdiest.
The early portion of the trail ran along the banks of the Magnan-Vaca River.
Where the long and short trails diverged. Except Leech My Nuggets doesn’t use the term “short.”
I’d never been this far down the river before.
A new way to go is always nice to find.
And here’s another place to go.
But I’m not ready to go there yet.
The biggest challenge we faced was a series of rickety bridges.
Like this one…
…and that one.
I’m happy to report that they all carried the load.
The path ahead.
A gathering of “cripples.”
Sweets for the sweet.
Riverboats.
I’ve learned to deal with a fork in the road, but what do you do when you encounter two?
That old gal doing her laundry is one of my charity projects.
We don’t run into her that often, but on the occasions when we do, we slip her 500 pesos. She is raising her deceased daughter’s kids, and it’s a struggle, I’m sure.
Now we are on the home stretch.
Arriving at Sully’s place.
The purple “cripple” trail bypassed the hill climb before rejoining the main trail. I enjoyed the riverwalk.
Our host for the evening, Sully.
Hanging out at Sully’s place.
Some Hash Gash.
I enjoyed the trail so much that I voluntarily joined the Hare (Leech is on the right) on the ice.
It’s nice on ice!
And then it was time for the sun to go down…
…and another Hash came to an end.

Some of the usual after-Hash fun (and beer) at It Doesn’t Matter, then we headed home, thankful for another fine day in paradise.

It’s still May 2017 in the LTG archives, and in this post, I share photos from my first week after moving to Pyeongtaek. It was quite an adjustment. As a bonus, here’s a tour of my “Palace,” two stories, four bedrooms, and four baths. It was like an exclamation point on my loneliness.

Today’s YouTube video is one I made thirteen years ago as I prepared to depart Korea for some USA time. It depicts how I filled the months I spent in Korea with the woman I so dearly loved. I didn’t know then what was just around the corner, and that the life I was living and loving would soon come to an end.

Time to cheer myself up:

I never saw such a bad pun.
That stinks.
And why is it a crime?

Another day, another post. Now it’s time to practice my darts in preparation for the tournament this evening. I’m eating before I go this time to take the edge off my grumpiness. I’ll let you know how that works out for me.

Coming apart

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Well, what it doesn’t solve, it helps you forget.

Here’s the lowdown on yesterday’s Hash run. I joined a rather large group of shortcutters who avoided the Kalaklan Ridge climb and did the second part of the trail. Including the 2K walk from my house to where we started, I had a satisfying 6K hike with one hill. That’s enough for me these days.

I’m pretty sure the shortcutters outnumbered the Hashers who did the whole trail.
Off we go, headed up Rizal Extension.
Heading for the hills.
Upsy daisy.
Splendor in the grass.
A woodsy vibe.
Does anyone remember postcards?
Homemade shade.
Out of the hills in Marian Hills (yeah, the village itself is flat).
Anal Receptive was the first long-trail runner to pass our group.
Getting it done. A climb into Alta Vista, then onward to the On-Home at Cyclone Bar.
Some Hash Gash at Cyclone.
It’s nice on ice!
The old farts at the Circle.
That’s the trail I did half of…
My trail looked like this.

I guess I’m doing alright for a fat seventy-year-old. Some more after-Hash beers at It Doesn’t Matter, then home for some restless sleep.

That’s one of my lowest sleep scores ever.

Who’d a thunk I’d be one of those Woke bastards?

It’s still February 2017 in the LTG archives, and I’m in Barretto scoping out the possibilities of retiring there (spoiler alert: I did). Anyway, lots of pictures and memories. You can check out the post for yourself, but here are a couple:

It was over a year later when I made the move, but this house in Alta Vista was still available, so I signed a lease and lived there for three years.
One of the first friends I made in the PI was with a vlogger named John Brant. A couple of years after I moved here, John was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. No one ever hears from him these days, but I’m told he lives in the province with his wife and her family taking care of him. A good guy who is missed.
That would be Loraine. I met her online, hired her as a tour guide, then sent her to caregiver school. I planned to have her take care of me without all the emotional attachments that come with love. I’m sure you can guess how that worked out for me.
And I also discovered the Alley Cats darts bar.

It’s interesting to look back on those days when I had one foot in the future and the other stuck in the past. That’s a good way to fall flat on your face.

Today’s YouTube video is about the mountain city of Baguio. I’m sharing it as a prelude to my upcoming excursion there for a Valentine’s Hash. I’ve been to Baguio a few times, and it is a nice place to visit, but I don’t think I would enjoy living there.

Humor me:

There’s dumb, and then there is AOC dumb.
Was Doc related to AOC?
And Picard might be my father…

Anyway, I’m off to see Dr. Jo this afternoon. My self-diagnosis is that I’m old, but I want a second opinion. My current symptoms include coughing up phlegm, high blood pressure, stiff and sore lower legs, and some lethargy. And I don’t want to sound morbid or anything, but I can’t help shaking the feeling that the end of my time is nearer than I’d hoped for. I can’t really explain these feelings, but maybe the brain knows when the body has reached its expiry date. I hope I’m wrong, but just in case, you heard it here first.

Hashing my way

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I see her point.

It was back to the Hash for me after a two-week hiatus. As usual, I chose to do it my way, although my course did include a stretch of the actual trail. Anyway, it was good to hike the Bitch again. Had some beers at the On-Home venue before departing halfway through the Circle to make my way back down Rizal Extension for the after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter. Just a tad over 3K to get to the On-Home and another 3K to get back down to IDM. That was longer than the actual Hash trail, so I wasn’t shortcutting yesterday.

My fellow Hash mates, BF’s Wet Spot and Cums Alone, making our way out of Alta Vista.
This is where the My Bitch trail begins (or ends, depending on your direction).
Where dreams die. Someone cleared this lot and built this residence a couple of years ago. It’s been abandoned for more than a year now.
Getting back to my roots with nature’s natural stair steps.
Come on up, the weather is fine!
Pausing to pose at the Four Corners junction.
Getting into the high grass.
A tree I like.
That Easter Mountain shot.
Mountain Mama Onelia.
Trekking ever onward.
Proof that we were on the actual trail for run #1690 of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers.
These kids always call me “daddy,” so, like a good father, I give them cookies and lollipops.
The view from here.
The forces of nature are devouring my unrealistic dream cabin.
Another view I like. You can just make out the bay in the distance.
Where My Bitch meets Rizal Extension. All those vehicles belong to Hashers.
My Bitch, end-to-end.
Some of the Hash Gash.
I left before the birthday cakes were made.
Making my way down Rizal Extension.
It Doesn’t Matter how I got there.
There’s that “crazy guy” beggar I mentioned in yesterday’s post, plying his trade with the Hash gals. Yeah, I gave him the usual 50 pesos.

And that was how the Hash day went down.

It’s Thanksgiving in the November 2016 LTG archives, and despite my broken heart, I found much to be thankful for. Interestingly, Choonae (the author of the travel guide to Cuba) is still a Facebook friend and she is currently in Cuba. Like the good commie she is, she still finds the bright side of things there, despite the continuous power outages. She’s a nice woman (happily married now), and I wish her all the best.

We haven’t checked in with Smart Girl Philippines in a while, so for today’s YouTube video, let’s see what she has to say about the seven types of Filipinas it is best to avoid. Not that it matters to me these days.

And now for the funny business:

Beam him up!
He’s being railroaded, but is too blind to see it.
Well, when the chips are down, what are you going to do?

Enough of that for today. Had some banking issues this morning that foiled my shopping plans. I’ll tell you about that tomorrow. It’s Tuesday, and that means a Baloy Beach excursion and some time on the Kokomo’s floating bar await me.

The first and the last

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We need to pause and put a stop to this.

So, yesterday I completed my first Hash of the year. It was also my last one until I return from Vietnam at the end of the month. And oh, by the way, I did the entire trail without shortcutting. Yes, you read that right. Granted, it was the short version of the trail laid by the Hare (a little over 6K; the long was 8.5K), but I did it all without deviation. I was tempted in places to do things my way, but I overcame that urge and plodded on. In another first (at least in my experience with the Subic Hash), a fellow Hasher was run over by a motor scooter while crossing the road. He and the cyclist escaped with only scrapes and bruises, so in that sense, it was a lucky day.

Here are some photos from the Hash run:

We gathered at the Alta Vista Clubhouse, which made things easy for me (a five-minute walk from home).
The Hare, Anal Receptive, gives last minute guidance on the trail.
And we are On-On!
Leaving Alta Vista behind.
Through the familiar backstreets of San Isidro.
They’ll be comin’ round the mountain when they come. Well, the guy in the blue shirt (a visitor from the US) was about to experience a major Hash crash.
That’s my nightmare every time I cross a busy road here in the PI.
Off-roaders
On-roaders
Splitting the difference. Long goes up and over Black Rock, short goes around through the graveyard.
Some of those long-trailers I mentioned.
Entering the dead zone.
Swan’s mom and brother are buried here, so we paused to pay our respects.
Why did the turkeys cross the road?
My come-to-Jesus moment on the trail.
The view from here.
I don’t blame the doctor; I wouldn’t want to go in there either.
On-Home at Smokes and Bottles, my favorite Hash venue.
It was one of the better trails I’ve hiked in a while.
Gash chilling after the hike.
Enjoying some liquid refreshment.
I joined the Hare on the ice to show appreciation for his efforts in laying a good trail.
The Hash crashers on the ice.

The usual after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter brought another day in paradise to a close. It’s good to be alive!

On to August 2016 in the LTG archives. This post is about hiking (Namsan and Han River), drinking (too much), and getting re-promoted as the Director, Human Resources, after a five-year retirement pause.

Today’s YouTube video talks about “barangay slum girls” in Angeles City—basically, just streetwalkers who ply their trade on Facebook. As I watched, I was feeling grateful that I was never really into the prostitution scene. And then I recalled some of my past “transactional relationships” and realized no matter what you call it, it is still exchanging money for sex.

Now let’s get to the funny business:

Wrinkles will soon be the least of his worries.
Better to be safe than sorry, I suppose.
That ought to do the trick.

That’s all for now.

A bit too much of nothin’

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Welcome to my world.

Damn, I forgot what I was going to say. Oh yeah, it was about yesterday’s Hash at Sampaloc Cove. We had 102 Hashers in attendance. There would have been more, but the boat the Corona Hashers from Angeles City were going to use broke down, and they never made it to the cove. As it was, we had five boats carrying twenty-plus each on the one-hour-and-fifteen-minute cruise to Sampaloc. None of them sank!

This was my fourth journey to the beautiful area just outside Subic Bay on the South China Sea. What makes the place unique is its utter isolation, with access only available by boat or a several-hour hike over the mountains. Oh, and there is no electricity either. Yikes! I’ve fantasized about a rural Filipino-style life, but I’d be hard-pressed to even do an overnighter in the small village we visited yesterday. Yeah, I’m addicted to the internet and they ain’t got none. I guess I could get a Starlink connection and use solar panels to charge the phone/laptop. But they ain’t got no bars either, so what’s the point?

Anyway, kudos to the Hares, Buddy Fucker, and Yogini, for their efforts at organizing this huge event. Being the grumpy old man that I am, I had some complaints with the timing of the events, but I still managed to mostly enjoy myself. Still, an all-day outing with no avenue for escape was tough on me. We sat around for an hour or so after arrival, then did the Hash trail up to a local waterfall area. There and back again was less than 2K. Then we sat around some more while the Gash put together the potluck food buffet. Of course, there was plenty of beer to be consumed, and like the good Hashers that we are, we worked hard at emptying those cans.

After the food was consumed, there were some games that I chose not to participate in. I didn’t even bother to watch, staying in my shady chair and enjoying my beer instead. The game portion seemed to go on and on, and the Hash Circle didn’t begin until well after 3 pm. I was a tad concerned about returning to Barretto in a rickety boat after dark. However, we finally departed Sampaloc Cove around 4:30. It was still daylight for most of the trip, although it was nighttime when we disembarked at Baloy Beach.

Lots of pictures from the day to share, so let’s get to it:

I awoke to hazy skies. Most of it had burned off by the time we arrived in Sampaloc.
How much beer will 100+ Hashers consume in the course of the day? Here’s what we brought with us.
Gathering on the beach at Treasure Island prior to boarding our banca boats.
Loaded up and ready to roll, er, float.
See you later, Baloy!
Sampaloc here we come!
The way ahead.
My boat mates.
The Philippine Navy has a shipyard on the bay.
Hyundai is now running the former Hanjin shipyard.
Sampaloc Cove is just around that peninsula point in the bay.
I was intrigued by these dwellings on the hillside: no road access and no beach for a boat landing. However you get there, it must make for a hard life.
The lighthouse where the bay meets the sea.
Goodbye Subic Bay and hello South China Sea!
And up ahead is the cove they call Sampaloc.
Our venue for the Hash Outstation awaits.
Disembarking on the sands of Sampaloc.
More boats on the cove.
Let’s do this!
Lining up to pay the Hash fees. 800 pesos per head for all-you-can-eat, drink, and be merry.
Hanging out waiting for something else to do.
Gathering for the Hare’s guidance regarding the Hash trail.
And we are On-On!
Heading for the good kind of falls.
Some nice scenery along the way…
…no ifs, ands, or butts about it.
The waterhole at the top of the trail.
There was a nice rockslide into this pool, although I chose not to partake.
Fun in the sun.
A house in the middle of nowhere.
Smoke signals.
Why did this chicken cross my path?
Perhaps the shortest Hash trail in history.
Chillin’ after the hike.
A view from my perch.
Killin’ time.
Setting up the food table.
There’s something fishy going on here.
Still hanging out in the shade next to the ice chest. I brought my own San Miguel Zero since the Hash couldn’t find any for sale in town.
The Hash Gash doing their thing.
I was getting bored, and Pubic Head joined me for a beach walk.
It’s a whole other world living out here in isolation.
Some of the kids we bestowed with cookies and lollipops.
Finally, it was time to do the Hash Circle.
Having our usual block of ice was not logistically feasible, so we resorted to what the La Union Hash calls a “bucket brigade” and doused the victims with water. I definitely prefer the ice!
When the time came to board our boats for the trip back home, I was more than ready to go. Cums Alone got in a quick swim before we departed.
Meanwhile, the locals were jumping off rocks.
The drunken boat ride back to Baloy.
But at least we all made it back alive.
A race with the sun on our return journey.
A ship heading out to sea.
The sun won, and we deboarded in the dark.

And so ended a LONG, but mostly good day.

Life goes on, and it is now June 2016 in the LTG archives. In this post, I talk about bad decisions and weddings. Heh, my area of expertise! Re-reading these posts from this time period has been like pulling the scab off an old wound. I guess some things in life never leave you—especially the painful ones.

Today’s YouTube video is a golden oldie I also found in the LTG archives. It’s still pretty damn funny and less than three minutes long, so give it a look.

Let’s keep the humor rolling:

There’s more than one way to bang a girlfriend…
I’ve used this one before, but maybe not here on the blog. That’s one benefit of losing your memory, I suppose–everything old is new again.
There are always consonantes in life.

That’s all I’ve got for today.

A Sampaloc Hash

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It’s a good thing I’m in my 70s then…

No, I didn’t spell “symbolic” wrong. Today’s Hash is an outstation run at the cove named Sampaloc. The cove is only accessible by boat, and it takes over an hour to get there. We’ll be departing from Baloy Beach at 0830 this morning, with a scheduled return at 5-ish. So, I’ve got a long day of Hashing/Drinking (but I repeat myself) ahead of me. Which means it is now or never for today’s post. So, let’s get to it.

This will be my fourth time visiting the scenic cove, and I’m looking forward to it. Here’s the post from my first trip in 2019, and it is chock full of photos if you want to see what I’m in for today. My return visit the following year resulted in some insanity amongst some of my fellow travelers, something I hope I’ll never experience again. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Not a lot to report about my yesterday. We did an abbreviated candy walk (still out of chocolate) and then got on with our modified Sunday routines. One modification was the lack of a Hideaway feeding. I’ve decided not to continue that event going forward. My charity budget can be better spent on other projects.

Another change was venturing out to the Arizona floating bar. Alas, it is not yet open for business.

So, next up was our Sunday dinner at John’s place. I’m happy to report that they were open, although the menu options were limited. No birria, no pulled pork.

Swan opted for the chow mien…
…and I went with the Philly cheesesteak.

I’m not sure what the future holds for John’s place, but it’s not looking good from my perspective.

We did our usual after-dinner visit to the patio at Red Bar, then on to Jumpin’ Jacks for our nightcap.

And that’s all there was to Sunday.

From the May 2016 LTG archives is this post about a memorable weekend in Seoul. Lots of photos of friends and places that will always hold a special place in my heart.

Today’s YouTube video features Sampaloc Cove. See for yourself.

Some quick humor before I go:

Whatever you say, dear. You’re the boss.
And now we know why.
Not bad for 78…

Gotta run. Having a trike pick us up, along with all the stuff we’re bringing, to take us to Treasure Island, where we’ll be catching our boat. At least I’ll have something of interest to post tomorrow.

Just kidding around

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And you never get lost!

The annual Hash Candy Run was a success, at least as measured by the smiling faces of the treat recipients. We confined ourselves to the backstreets of Barretto, but because of an accident on the highway, traffic was backed up, and many cars were detouring through the normally quiet residential streets, making things a little harrowing for the streetwalkers. But we made it through the afternoon with no casualties, so that’s a win.

The 2025 Subic Bay Hash House Harriers Candy Run participants.
Off we go!
Smiles from the Hash Gash
It was great to see 18 Kilo Ass again. This is the first time he’s been back in Barretto since his near-fatal motorcycle accident. He walked about a kilometer on his new knee.
Santa and his elves.
Where the hell are those kids?
Ah, okay. Word that Santa was in town began to spread like wildfire.
This is one of the areas Swan and I do on our Sweet Stroll.
Lots of kids here.
And on we go to the next batch.
Just shy of 5K when we were done.
On-Home refreshments were served at It Doesn’t Matter this week.
Hares on the ice.
Thanks for joining us.

From April 2016 in the LTG archives comes this account of another weekend in my Seoul life. A Namsan climb, a Han River walk, and drinking. Lots of drinking. Some things never change.

Today’s YouTube video is a touching tribute to those people who didn’t survive 2025. Most of them were older than me, so I took some comfort in that. No idea what might come next for them, but at least the suffering is over.

The pause that refreshes?

It wasn’t me!
Well, she’ll be a widow soon, so he can marry his stepmom then.
Rudolf nose it’s true.

Had enough? Me too!

Another day in the Hash

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Sounds like a good recipe. I should try it someday.

Another Hash Monday is in the books. The short version of the trail proved to be almost a walk in the park, although the uphill portions are more difficult than they used to be. We started and finished at the 13 Resort (pronounced one-three), which has some of the nicest bay views around. Best of all, I lived to post these photos:

Leech My Nuggets did his usual fine job laying the trail. The purple line was his short version, the orange line was the wimp way.
And away we go.
On the streets of a nice subdivision.
Then into the wild.
It was nice having Pubic Head on trail with us again.
These Subic Hillbillies were the day’s first cookie recipients.
Then we were back on the streets of a local neighborhood.
That’s the way it is sometimes.
Marching onward.
The highway portion of our journey.
Years ago, Eagles Bar was a Hash On-Home venue. That was before my time here, but from what I’ve heard, I’m sorry I missed it.
Arriving at yesterday’s On-Home.
That view from 13.
The Hash Gash table.
Me and her.
Pubic Head and I enjoying the view.
Circle up!
Meanwhile, this was happening.
Going down.
Over and out.
The after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter.
Being serenaded by some Christmas carolers.

And shortly thereafter, we made our way home so I could venture into the land of dreams.

I’ve marched on to March 2016 in the LTG archives, and in this pictorial post, I share the sights I saw on the backstreets of Seoul. I had one more year in Seoul, then a year in Pyeongtaek, before I said goodbye to my Korea life. It’s gone now, but never forgotten.

I saw this graphic on the size of life over at the Althouse blog. I thought it was worth the look; perhaps you will enjoy it too.

For today’s YouTube video, let’s go back to 1977 and watch a commercial for the first IBM portable computer. I didn’t buy my first home computer until the mid-90s. Now, I can’t imagine life without one. Blogging sure would be a bitch on a typewriter.

And as usual, the joke’s on me.

I guess they didn’t see that one coming. Don’t trust the words; be on the lookout for what’s to come.
Who/Me?
Nothing like reading between the lines…

Something new for me on the horizon today: my first time attending The Battle of the Bars. I’m assuming it will be SOB-like, but I’m told it’s a little spicier. Five bars are competing: Thumbstar, Queen Victoria, Red Bar, Gentlemen’s Club, and Alaska Club. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Back with the SBH3

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I missed the last two runs with my home kennel, so it was good to be back with the Subic Bay Hash group. I didn’t do much of the actual trail as I wasn’t feeling up to a climb to the top of the Kalaklan Ridge. When I saw the route the Hares laid to get there, I knew I had made the right call. Even some of the die-hards were bitching about how challenging the trail was. Knowing your limits is about more than beer intake, and I learned long ago that when Vienna Sausage is the Hare, I’m going my own way.

The gathering of Hashers at the edge of town.
Vienna Sausage provides last-minute guidance before starting the trail.
And we are On-On!
The up I opted out of. I’d gone that way before and added to my “never again” list.
Some other like-minded Hashers chose to follow my lead.
We met up with Pubic Head along the way.
Evidence that we did some of the flat part of the official Hash trail.
The Hare’s trail.
My trail was longer (6K) and flatter.
The On-Home venue this week was Cyclone Bar.
Circle up!
It’s nice on ice!

A visit to It Doesn’t Matter after the Hash, then back to the comfort of home sweet home. And that’s how I rolled through another day.

It’s Christmas Day in the 2015 LTG archives. I wrote about all the places I had lived in my life up to that point, including the most recent, moving out of Jee Yeun’s place into my own apartment. And I was alone again, naturally. It’s been almost ten years now, and it still hurts.

I came across today’s YouTube video on a forum I follow. I’d never heard of this comedian before, but since it was less than five minutes long, I gave his stand-up schtick a watch. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.

As long as we are doing “humor,” I’ll share these:

Ashes to ashes, lead to lead…
Sorry if I posted a version of this previously. It’s still funny, though.
Show me the DNA…

Another post, another day. Time to get on with it.

Bashing the Haggis

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That all sounds bassackwards to me.

Back in Barretto to file this report on the events at yesterday’s Haggis Hash Bash in Pozorruio. To end any suspense, I maintained control over my drunk persona throughout a very long day. The best evidence of my success is that I made it up the stairs to my hotel room without assistance. I still drank more than I usually would over the course of the day, but this time I paced myself, stuck mostly to Zero low-alcohol beer, with no more than two an hour, and resisted taking any offered shots of the hard stuff. Or maybe I just got lucky.

Okay, let’s get to the Hash. There were two trail options: the long at 8 kilometers, and the shorter 7-kilometer version. Seeing as how I’m an older fucker with sore legs, and I had a hangover, I went with the 7K route.

And we are On-On!
Down the road…
…and into the fields.
A bushy goat on a rope.
Over a squishy suspension bridge that left me feeling a little seasick at the end.
That’s the bridge I’m talking about.
All the other Subic girls took the long trail, but Swan stuck with me.
The flatness of Pozorrubio would probably get boring after a while, but since I was seeing everything for the first time, I enjoyed the views.
Passed through lots of farm land.
A tree I fancied.
Flowers by the riverside were worthy of a photo.
We ain’t fast, so near the end of the trail we were bringing up the rear.
A horny cow.
I know what to do when I come to a fork in the road, but how do you deal with a fork in a post?
There was something about this tree I liked.
The route we walked.

Back on the farm, I changed into my new Haggis Hash shirt.

Our host was going for the Scottish school uniform look.
For all I know, he nailed it.

Given my circumstances from the night before, I hadn’t had anything to eat. Watching the lunch being prepared (and smelling the burgers on the grill) only exacerbated my hunger.

Grillin’.
Coleslaw.
Diced wieners waiting for some ketchup.
Putting it all together.
Burgers wrapped and ready to eat.
Hungry Hashers waiting for their turn.

The burgers and sides were quite delicious. I had my first beer of the day for dessert.

One of the Haggis traditions is playing various games and competitive events. We were divided into four teams and assigned a captain. A lot of the contests were physical (carrying someone, sack races, and the like), and my tired body wasn’t up for that. I told the captain I would cheerlead from the shade while I enjoyed some slow beer drinking.

Swan did a couple of events, including walking the plank.

They finished third. Swan says she is still sore.

I also videoed one minute of the Scottish dance competition:

We didn’t win that either.

Near the end of the contests, I got shamed into taking one for the team. For some reason, someone thought I was a natural for the beer-drinking event. What the hell, someone’s got to do it.

We took turns, and I was in the third position.
Once you’ve downed your beer, you hold the empty bottle over your head, and the next player begins drinking. We didn’t win this event either.

Then it was time to circle up.

Refreshments for the Hashers.
The sun calling it a day.
Hashers Circled up!
We weren’t in Germany, but we had a nice bonfire anyway.

I was one of the Scots invited into the Circle. I’ve never been to Scotland, but our Scottish host recognized that McCrarey is a Scottish name.

After the Circle, we moved back into the meeting area for dinner.

Our meal was introduced with the sweet sound of bagpipes.
A small sampling of haggis with potato sides was served as an appetizer. Like a good Scot, I ate all of mine, even though it is not my favorite dish.
The dining hall full of hungry Hashers.

One of our group members wasn’t feeling well, so our host provided a van to transport us back to the hotel after our meal.

The rest of us enjoyed some liquid refreshments at our hotel.

My day started at 9 a.m., and I was not back in my room until a little after 10 p.m. That’s a long day and a late night for me. But, much better than my Friday night, most of which I don’t remember. Scott sent me this photo as a reminder:

And now that I’m home again, we’ll get back to my more sane routines. I wired some money for the Hideaway feeding, as I wasn’t feeling up for that. I’m going to take Swan to John’s place for her birria tacos, and we’ll see how it goes from there.

A Jollibee Sunday at Hideaway.

On to December 2015 in the LTG archives. In this post, I share the continuing adventure of my efforts to get back to Korea via American Airlines. I got to meet someone semi-famous, Brooke Mueller, and travel in business class seats for the first time.

For today’s YouTube video, let’s check in with the Filipina Pea, who shares her wisdom on the reasons so many folks moving here fail to enjoy the life they imagined. I guess I got lucky, although there were some speed bumps along the way.

Humor time:

I’d rather be commatose…
Hmm, I’m retired, but I still hear voices saying things like, “One more beer won’t hurt you.”
Hiking pays! Who knew?

That’s all for now—time to get back to living in the moment.

Bak 2 Skul

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Alright, it is Saturday morning, and I’ve got a big Hash day ahead of me. Before I go, let me dash off a quick post about yesterday’s Hash event. The Haggis is a Scottish thing, and my ancestral roots are in Scotland. But I was drinking like an Irishman last night, and from what I’m told, it didn’t end well. Oh well, live and learn. Or not.

Where I be and how I got here.
A view from the road.
Over the river.
Our little room.
Looking down at the pool from our room.
Words of wisdom on the bathroom wall.
A 200 peso trike ride to the CIJ Farm, the venue for this weekend’s Haggis Hash.
And so it begins.
Our Haggis host and skul principal, Honeydew.
This year’s theme. Not to be an arse about it, but we don’t need no education.
No matter how you spell it, we McCrareys are rooted in Scotland.
Each participating Hash kennel was asked to designate a Queen. Subic’s choice was Bite My Titties.
The Queen on her throne.
And we are On-On!
The best part of Hashing out of town is that all the trails are new.
Swan is such a slowpoke sometimes.
Pozorrubio is mostly flat and I like that.
Through the fields we go. But I don’t think I was laughing all the way.
An unfamiliar Hash mark…I wonder what it means?
Clouds on the mountains.
Gathering for the Circle at the trail’s end down on the farm.
A short and sweet trail with TWO drink stops along the way.
An end-of-trail snack.
Snack innards.
After the circle, we returned to the farm headquarters for dinner and drinks. Lots of drinks.

And then we caught the van for transport back to our hotel. Except we had it drop us off at a local bar just down the road from our lodging.

More drinking ensued, and things were getting a little dark in my addled brain.
There was live music…
…and Swan joined the band.

I don’t remember anything after that. Swan told me this morning that I came back from the CR and my pants were wet with pee. We took a trike back to the hotel, and I fell down getting out. Two of the hotel staff had to help me up the stairs to the third floor. And then I woke up in bed this morning.

The early morning view from my hotel room.
That full moon must have followed me here.

And that’s where things stand at the moment. Today’s Hash events start at 10 a.m. with a hike, then continue into the night as we dine on haggis, sit around a bonfire, and, of course, imbibe beverages, including Scottish whiskey. I pride myself on maintaining control when I drink, and yesterday was a failure in that regard. It is rare that I get falling-down drunk, and it is an embarrassment when I do. Hopefully, I learned my lesson about over-indulgence yesterday. I’ll let you know tomorrow how that works out today.

A photo of my workstation where this post was created.

PTSD

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Post-trail sharing details.

I survived the Hash trail yesterday—at least the part of it I did. But to my credit, I did the hard part. My hill-climbing stamina has been fading rapidly, and I was somewhat worried about doing what I knew would be a challenging ascent. I thought of excuses to avoid the trail, but in the end, I decided I’m not ready to be a quitter. I’ll get up that hill or die trying, I told myself. I hadn’t gone far when I questioned that decision, because the long climb was an ass-kicker. Still, I hadn’t been out this way for a long enough time that it felt fresh and new. And because of that, I was able to overcome the urge to bail out and shortcut back down since I wasn’t sure which way to go. I plodded onward, but knowing there was a second climb in my future, I decided I had done my duty with the first half of the hike, and once we descended to Rizal Extension, I opted to do a road walk back to the On-Home at Bella Monte. The length of my version was about the same as the Hare’s trail (around 6K), but I avoided another hill. That’s my story in words; here are the photos:

That’s the Hare, Leech My Nuggets, in yellow.
A gathering of Hashers awaiting the 2 pm start time.
Me and my group said, “Fuck that,” and started a few minutes early. The rest of the Hashers passed me before I was even halfway up the hill.
We started with a stroll up Banaba Street. It is steeper than it appears in this photo.
And then we left the pavement behind and the real “fun” began.
Don’t be fooled. I didn’t take pictures during the steepest parts.
The struggle continues.
On up!
The view from here.
I thought I’d found a nice urinal until someone advised it was a water well.
One of the three barbed-wire fences we had to overcome.
A tree that caught my eye.
Another shortcutter who followed my lead for a downhill/flat street walk route.
Rollin’ On-Home.
Our On-Home venue for the second week in a row.
The Hare’s trail is in green, and my “shortcut” is in red.
Hanging out before the Circle.
Chairs? We don’t need no stinkin’ chairs…
On the ice.
The old folks zone.

And that’s the story of this week’s Hash. I won’t be attending another Subic Hash until December. I’ve got some travel plans coming up.

From the August 2015 LTG archives is the post I made about my 60th birthday. And here I am having made it to 70. And now, let’s see if I can live to write the 80th-birthday post.

Today’s YouTube video discusses the realities of life for the majority of Filipinos. Yes, it is not paradise for most. This video is focused on Manila, but I see similar poverty on my walkabouts. It’s sad to view the hardships so many endure. Still, I’ve never ceased to be impressed by the locals’ resilience and ability to maintain a positive attitude and a friendly nature.

Let me leave you with a smile or two:

Leave it to the government.
I think I see what your problem is now, fella.
The period before you complete your sentence.

And there you have it. Changing things up some today by attending the weekly RSL meeting. It starts at 2:00, which isn’t in keeping with my kind of schedule, but there is a raffle drawing worth 99,000 pesos, so I’m making an exception with the hope of getting lucky. And the proceeds go to the RSL’s charity projects, so it is good to support that effort. Beer will be served, so everyone is a winner.

Getting on with it

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The writing on the wall…

It rained off and on all night, but now at last the storm has passed, and life is returning to normal. The electricity that powers the essential tools that fill the hours has been restored, allowing me to check out of the crap Anbon Hotel and return to the luxury living of Alta Vista. It is good to be home!

The Hashers who braved the weather met up at the VFW. The Hare advised, “Trail? We don’t need no stinkin’ trail.”

Yesterday’s Hash was, as I expected, not much of a Hash. There was no marked trail to follow, so you could walk where you pleased or else follow the leader on a bar crawl. Decisions, decisions. I started out with the group that went with the Hare’s bar trek, but wound up on my own in the end. The first bar visited was Dynamite Dick’s, which is a nice enough place but a small venue. And yesterday it was pretty much full even before the Hashers arrived. I prefer sitting outside, but that option wasn’t available. I looked inside and didn’t see anywhere to sit at the bar either. I asked another Hasher where the next stop would be, and he told me it would be Dempsey’s. Okay, that’s down the highway by John’s place, but what’s a Hash without a hike? I was the first and only customer when I got there. I had two beers waiting in an empty bar (the bartender was friendly enough to laugh at my jokes) and decided to head out on my own. Yeah, I shortcut the bar crawl. At least I’m consistent!

Sloppy Joe’s was right up the street from the Hash On-Home venue at the Bella Monte Hotel. I plopped my ass down where I normally sit, ordered up a beer, and began my wait until 3:30, when the Hash beer at the On-Home becomes available. And since I was drinking earlier than I usually do, I decided prudence dictates that I should put some food in my belly (I’d skipped lunch after the big Arizona breakfast I’d consumed). So, I enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich with my beer, then made my way to Bella Monte, bringing my Hash trail to an end.

This guy at Bella Monte kept staring at me. No, I didn’t let him ride me.

Honestly speaking, the Hash Circle is my least favorite part of the Hash, but the beer is cold and good. When the circle was done, I made my way to IDM for the usual after-Hash revelry. My hotel room was waiting for me right across the street, but I was hoping that I wouldn’t be needing it last night. I sent messages to the folks I know living in Alta Vista asking if the power had been restored, but it hadn’t by the time I ran out of gas. I stayed at IDM until nine, hoping for good news, and I had to smile when several people commented, “What are you doing here so late?” Heh, I’m famous for being a lightweight.

Resigned to having to spend another night in a crappy hotel room, I went to the small grocery store on the corner to pick up something sweet for my bedtime treat.

The name of this ice cream gave me a laugh.

“Boom boom” is Filipino slang for sexual intercourse. You can look it up. Well, I’ll save you the trouble, here’s the definition from the Urban Dictionary:

The term “boom boom” is most often associated with south east asian countries such as Thailand, Cambodia, or Laos and is used to describe the act of intercourse, usually that which is purchased by males frequenting brothels and whorehouses in those locations. The term is thought to have been created by prostitutes possessing limited english language ability; ie- it is far easier for a non english speaking Thai prostitute to say “You go boom boom”? than it is for her to say “Would you like to go make completely unemotional and detached love with me”?

Sex Worker: “Hello handsome man, you go boom boom”?
Obviously not handsome man: “How much sweetheart”?

Swan thought the name was funny too, and suggested I buy some ice cream for the girls at IDM. So, as we walked back to our hotel room, I stopped in front of IDM and asked, “Does anyone here want Boom Boom? They gave me a funny look, especially because Swan was standing right next to me. Then I pulled an ice cream out of my bag, and they got the joke.

Look at those smiling faces. Filipinas sure do love some Boom Boom!

Woke up this morning to the news that the power was back on in Alta Vista, so we packed our shit and headed for home.

The room at the Anbon Hotel we hope never to need again.
Let’s just say it needs a little work.

Anyway, the storm is gone and I’m still here, so I’d count that as a win.

Facebook and YouTube are full of this kind of AI bullshit about the typhoon. It’s both sad and scary to see this and think people are that gullible.
The future of the human race doesn’t look bright.

Today is Veterans Day, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t take a moment to honor those who served in the military.

Thank you for your service!

It’s April 2015 in the LTG archives. In this post, I share the story of an afternoon spent with two distinguished authors in Itaewon. One of them still visits my blog, but I’ve lost touch with Young Chun. His book, The Accidental Citizen-Soldier, is a great story about an American citizen getting drafted into the Korean Army. And he lived to not only tell about it, but to sign my copy of the book!

Give it a read.

Today’s YouTube video touches on some of the things I discovered during my first visit to the Philippines that made me want to live here. Many Filipinos may be poor, but they are also happy, generous, and welcoming. I’m sorry for the AI renderings, but the message is brief and legitimate. I’m living rich in a poor country and don’t tend to spend quality time with the Filipinos I encounter, but that’s all on me. I’ve often thought on my walkabouts that if I were hiking through an American slum, I might not make it out alive. Here, I’m greeted with friendly smiles.

Let me leave you with a smile or two:

I had a Scottish friend in Korea who was teaching English. I could only understand about half of what he said.
What a crock!
Welcome to my world, and I don’t even need to be on the toilet.

I’ll tell you what, I’d rather experience the same shit every day than no shit at all. And I’ve got enough variety to keep it interesting most of the time. At least for me.

Fair to middling

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But what about all those dead voters?

Yesterday’s Hash trail was nothing special, but I’ve only got myself to blame for that. I opted not to follow the route the Hare prepared and set about on my course. Coincidentally, the Hare’s trail did intersect with mine for a kilometer or two, then headed back up into the hills. My path started with the My Bitch trail and then came down into San Isidro for a flat street walk to the On-Home at Smokes and Bottles in Calapacuan. I did manage to log 7K on my journey, and that ain’t bad for a fat old guy. Pubic Head (Scott) was going to a street walk to Smokes and Bottles from his house, but he decided to join me on my trail instead. It was good to be Hashing together again!

As we set out, I couldn’t help but notice that the new SBH3 shirt Swan was wearing had some ambiguity about it. I imagined encountering someone reading the Hare’s name (Anal Receptive) and taking it as an invitation to poke that ass.
Into the tall thatch grass that is part of the Bitch experience.
Swan posing for my Easter Mountain shot.
Waiting at Mountain Mama Onelia’s place for Pubic Head and his contingent to arrive.
The gang’s all here.
That cabin in the woods I fancy.
Making it just under the wire.
The view from here.
That really gets my goat.
Well, lookee there, we are On-On the official Hash trail.
The path was going our way, so we took it.
Crossing Bridge #3. Not long thereafter, the Hare’s trail went one way and we took another.
But our paths reconvened near the On-Home venue. The Hare (Almoranus) speaks German, and I *think* “saufn oida) roughly translates to “beer near.”
On-Home at Smokes and Bottles, one of my favorite Hash venues.
Some Hash Gash.
That’s the Hare, Almoranus, on the right.
The trail I mostly didn’t do…
…and the one I did.

After-Hash revelry at It Doesn’t Matter, then back to the house for a good night’s sleep before waking up thankful to still be amongst the living.

It’s still January 2015 in the LTG archives. Now, I personally have a very low tolerance for people who feel the need to act out and become a drama queen. Except when I are one. Live and learn.

Today’s YouTube video is also from the LTG archives. It was funny to see it again.

Let’s roll on into these:

Why not both?
Man, you can say that again.
What a stand-up guy.

Another day, another post. Let’s see what happens next.

Not the best

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And now we pause for the comma.

As Hash runs go, yesterday was not really to my liking. The trail markings were inconsistent, resulting in some wrong turns. The trail itself was muddy and slippery in places, especially with the numerous ups and downs. When I’d had enough, I bailed and did a street walk back to the On-Home venue, the new Cyclone Bar.

The Hashers gathered at the Alta Vista clubhouse for the start of the trail.
Ant then we were On-On!
The stragglers.
And now we have the obligatory Easter Mountain shot taken care of.
Off the pavement.
And up the first hill.
The view from here.
And one of that bay they call Subic.
Country living.
Swan going down.
Steppin’ on down.
Hanging out at the On-Home.
Then, making our way to the after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter.
The Hare’s trail in red and my black alteration.

You have to take the good with the bad, and I’m just glad that I can still participate, even when I do it my way.

It’s December 2014 in the LTG archives now. I’ve accepted a job offer in Korea, rented out my Carolina house, and made the long journey back to The Land of the Morning Calm. I didn’t know then that my American life had come to its conclusion.

Today’s YouTube video is from a vlogger named George, one of the few I’ve actually met in person, and I occasionally see around town. He doesn’t post as frequently as he used to, and truth be told, I was never a consistent viewer. I noticed this one today because he mentions that life in Subic has become a rut for him. I’ve had similar feelings, and like him, I try to alleviate the “same-old, same-old” routine with intermittent travel. He lives on SBMA, which I would find more boring than Barretto. It is what it is, and at this stage of my life, I’m just going to ride it out.

Humor time:

Who’s the lucky one?
That’s spineless.
Why make it so hard on him?

Time to get back to this rut I call life.

The bottom line

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It depends.

It is always good to be back home, and I reckon that’s a pretty strong indicator that I’m generally happy with my Barretto life. La Union is nice, and I’ve always thought of it as a potential alternative should I ever feel the need to move on. This is the third year in a row I’ve attended the LUH3 Anniversary Hash run, and it’s still an enjoyable change of scenery. The three-plus-hour drive getting there ain’t much fun though.

Speaking of which, when you are unlicensed and carless, this is one way to get around:

  • Rent a vehicle for the weekend from one of Swan’s friends: 3600 pesos
  • Fuel for the vehicle: 3000 pesos
  • Expressway tolls: 1900 pesos
  • Payment for driver: 5000 pesos
  • Lodging for driver: 1900 pesos
  • Food money for driver: 1000 pesos
  • Total for getting there and back again: 16,400 pesos ($280)

That’s the way I roll these days.

We once again enjoyed our room at the Go Resort in Bauang. Clean and comfortable, complimentary breakfast, and friendly staff. My only complaint is that the Wi-Fi sucks.

Here are some photos from yesterday:

The Go Resort is on the ocean, but there ain’t no beach.
The open-air dining/bar area is very much to my liking.
A nice pool that I’ve never used.
My breakfast companions.

Then it was time to hit the highway.

An impressive tree in downtown Agoo.
Enjoying the cloudy horizon as we cruised down the expressway.
The offramp for the immaculate city of Concepcion.
A couple of the Subic Hashers hitched a ride home with us.
I looked up at the sky and shouted, “Are you threatening me?”
Something about that hump of a mountain always catches my eye.

After our return home, we joined our next-door neighbors, Jeff and Davina, along with the other side neighbors, Martin and Joss, for a home-cooked meal.

The Bryce Street squad.
Davina’s latest creation is something I’d never had before, what she called a “Spanish-chicken-and-vegetable-paella.” It was tasty indeed.

And yes, it was good to be imbibing San Mig Zero once again. In moderation, of course.

Lots more adventures on the horizon: a day on the river in Botolon on November 8, a week in Surigao at the end of November, the Haggis Hash in Pozorubio in December, two weeks in Vietnam to kick off the new year, and a Valentine’s Hash in Baguio come February. Yeah, I’ll work on filling in some of those gaps. Life is good, live it while you’ve got it!

I’ve reached the end of November 2014 in the LTG archives. I was depressed back then, and re-reading those old posts was depressing. My wife, the woman I loved, was not going to rejoin me in the USA, so I was working diligently to find a job in Korea to facilitate my returning home to her. And I finally got a job offer as a contractor, pending USFK approval. I had a roommate move in to my house in anticipation of him becoming the renter when the job came through. So, the month ended on a relatively high note.

I even wrote a song, or more aptly, reworded one:

In my mind I’m going to South Korea,
Riding on the Blue Line,
Having galbi with some rice wine
And it seems just like a friend of mine
That I’ve left behind
Yes, I’m going to South Korea in my mind.

Jee Yeun she’s my smiling sun,
Want to hike with her and watch it shine,
Watch her climbing Bukhansan.
The lonely fear’s disappearing now,
I’m flying, ain’t I?
I’m going to South Korea in my mind.

There ain’t no doubt in no ones mind
That Seoul’s the finest town around,
The cars and the bars it all suits me fine.
And hey, babe, we’ll be together,
I’m trying, ain’t I?
I’m going to South Korea in my mind.

Dark and lonely late tonight,
I think I might have heard Incheon calling.
Want to catch that flight and drink some Hite.
And signs that might be omens 
Say I’m going, going
I’m gone to South Korea in my mind.

I’ve done my best to make this work
But I’ve got to cross that ocean soon
And it seems like I’ve been far away forever,
You must forgive me
If I’m up and gone to South Korea in my mind.

Needless to say, things weren’t destined to turn out the way I had hoped.

The Filipina Pea brings us the news from the Philippines in today’s YouTube video. Jeepney’s disappearing? I’ll believe it when I see it. They are also building a mass transit rail line from Manila to Angeles. Drove by the construction near Clark on my weekend travels and noted no progress had been made whatsoever in the last year. As I say about the alleged Barretto bypass highway, work may be ongoing, but no one seems to be in a hurry. I’m not going to live forever, you know.

Let’s try these on for size:

That’s one way to achieve the “do-over” dream.
What a way to go!
You get your money for nothing and your chicks for free.

Another Hash Monday is here; let’s see if I survive it.

And here is that James Taylor song I bastardized. At least I was in Carolina when I stole it.

Here I am

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135 kilometers and three and a half hours, door-to-door.

Arrived safely in the lovely town of Bauang in La Union after a long drive. Today’s Hash starts at 10, so I’ve got to dash out a quick update before heading out. Regular posting will resume tomorrow.

Some scenes from along the road:

The old Spanish gate on SBMA.
Rolling down the expressway.
Mount Arayat, an extinct volcano in Pampanga.
On the MacArthur highway in the province of La Union.
Entering Bauang.
Checking into our room at the Go Resort. We wound up in the same room we had last year.

The Hash festivities began with a gathering at the Blue Cat bar, one of my favorite venues in Bauang.

The view from Blue Cat.
The view inside Blue Cat.
My table at Blue Cat
Hash Gash on the beach.

Sunset on the ocean is a different look than the ones I see back home.

The clouds added some color.
I like it!
Thanks for the show!

At the conclusion of the Blue Cat Hash gathering, the male Hashers were invited to gather at the only girly bar in town, Footloose.

Who am I to say no to such an invite?
I had to be discreet with my photography, but there was a lot more to see later in the performance, if you get my meaning.

So, no one has Zero beer in Bauang, and a long night of drinking SML left me somewhat out of sorts. It’s all a little fuzzy after that, but I did wake up in my bed this morning, so I guess things ended well, even if I don’t recall how I got there.

We’ll leave it at that for now. Gotta run, well walk, to the Hash meet-up.

Viva La Union!

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The world leader in litter. From what I’ve seen, it is a nationwide effort.

I’m off to Bauang, La Union, this morning for a Hashy weekend. I’ll dash off a quick post before I go.

I had the bright idea to trike out to Naugsol yesterday morning for a hike with Swan. It didn’t go as planned because once we were on the scene, neither of us wanted to fuck around with wading across the river. So, we did a 4K street walk instead. We brought along lots of candy bags, but soon realized that with school in session, we wouldn’t be seeing many youngins.

A bridge that was too dicey to cross. I’ve gone across it in the past, but wasn’t feeling so brave yesterday.
A candy delivery for a kid taking a river bath.
The kids at this school came out for some treats. And the teacher didn’t complain about tooth decay.
That mountain named after Easter.
Twin peaks are the breast!
It wasn’t much, but what there was wasn’t bad.

The visit to the pulmonologist went well. She listened to me breathe and heard no obstructions. My blood oxygen level was within the normal range. She gave me something that dissolves in water to drink before bedtime, which might help me clear the phlegm I hock up with some regularity. Otherwise, it doesn’t look like a lack of lung capacity will lead to my demise. We’ll see if I survive tomorrow’s Hash.

After the doctor visit, I got a haircut, then we had dinner at Jewel Cafe.

I did the filet mignon, as usual. A little bigger this time.

Then we finished our evening at Green Room. I sponsored a match (100 pesos to the winner, 50 to the loser) between a couple of the girls and enjoyed watching the action. Dropped some coin on lady drinks as is my custom, then we headed on home to rest up for our trip today.

Back to October 2014 in the LTG archives. It’s funny to be reminded of things you thought were important at the time, but have no recollection of until you read about them again. That happens more frequently the older I get. Anyway, this post recounts me losing it over some darts drama.

Here’s a bonus entry from the archives you may find funny: Are you coming?

Fifteen years ago, I shared this account of a bad morning I experienced:

Death to Aria! I was attacked in my sleep last night. The battle raged from 0200 to 0300. I was unable to digest why it was happening and was in danger of being completely liquefied. I retreated from the bedroom and eventually purged the intruder. When I awoke a few hours later, I found myself on more solid ground. I’m just glad the attack didn’t occur on the subway, or I would have been in deep doo-doo.

And twelve years ago, I posted this music video to my Facebook page:

Today’s YouTube video is about a vlogger’s bad week in Angeles City. It is good to keep things in perspective. My bad days aren’t this bad.

And now to bring things to a close:

If you say so.
You got me goin’ in circles…
The old dirt road.

Almost time to hit the highway. I’ll check in from up north in the morning.