Here comes the sun again

Well, looky there–blue skies for the first time in over two weeks!

It was so nice to enjoy the sunshine again this morning. Now, let me play some catch-up and do a post about Monday’s Hash.

It was a Vienna Sausage (Guenter) trail, and the On-Home was way out at the end of Rizal Extension. So, I knew some modifications were in order from the start. Pubic Head and I agreed to leave from our respective residences and rendezvous at the first family’s (Onelia and Jennifer) house on the My Bitch trail, then hike to the On-Home from there. Another factor we had to consider was the rain situation. It had been drizzling with occasional downpours all morning. I considered bailing on the Hash altogether, but the rain had let up to a light sprinkle when the two o’clock start time rolled around. I knew another deluge could strike anytime, but I decided to take a risk and headed out. I was second-guessing the wisdom of my decision on the portion of the trail I hiked alone, but I was extra careful and managed to avoid any life-altering fuck ups. I got to Onelia’s about twenty minutes before Pubic Head and was surprised to see Blow My Pipe, Demolition Derby, and Captain Prickhard doing the alternative trail as well. The rest of the march to Always Wet’s house for the On-Home events went without incident. I left at the beginning of the Hash circle and made the 3+K hike down Rizal to Barretto on my own. I plopped myself at Sloppy Joe’s and drank enough to extinguish my sobriety, then went next door to Sit-n-Bull and got a banana split to take home with me. Life is good.

The Hare’s trail is green. The trail I did is purple and orange. The Hare also had a street version (in black) for those so inclined.
The “grove” is now a lake.
The beginning of the My Bitch trail. For the first 2K, I was on my own. Watch your step!
Proof that for a brief moment, the Hare’s trail and mine intersected.
The Hare’s trail veered down past that creek and up the hill on the other side. I didn’t.
I turned left at the Four Corners junction and continued on to the First Family compound.
Easter Mountain from near Onelia’s place.
Hello again, Onelia!
Jennifer and her kids
My fellow Hashers finally arrive
Gathering up
And heading back out
It is somewhat disconcerting to see fences being erected that may eventually block access to this popular trail.
The Mountain Dew house
Easter Mountain from here
Nearing the end of our trek
Arriving at our On-Home venue, the new residence of Always Wet.
Me enjoying an after-hike beverage
It was good to see 18-Kilo Ass back at the Hash
Guenther prepared a plate of spaghetti Bolognese for any hungry Hasher willing to pay 100 pesos. I was, and it was well worth it. Someone noticed that I cut my spaghetti rather than roll it on the fork in the traditional fashion. Hey, it’s just the way I roll, er, don’t roll.
I left right as the circle began and made the long walk back into Barretto before it got dark and while I was still relatively sober.
A few of the Hashers showed up at Sloppy Joe’s after the Circle. Most went to IDM. I’ll likely end my IDM boycott next week, although I will no longer support the offending waitress.

And that’s how the Monday Hash went down. Now let’s do Tuesday.

Don’t read too much into this; it has not come anywhere near to that. Yet.

A rainy Tuesday, but the chores still got to be done, and that included the grocery shopping trip to Royal. Swan came along again and it was nice to see her. Tuesday is usually “our day,” and I’ll do my drinking at her place, but she was “busy” last night. And at coffee this morning, she advised she will also be too busy to do our Thursday hike together this week. Yes, I’m disappointed. And yes, I understand she has a lot on her plate. I do have my pride, and I’m not going to beg anyone to spend time with me that they are unwilling or unable to freely give. And to her credit, Swan continually assures me that everything will be different for us come October. I’m looking forward to that. I’m also prepared to do what I need to do if it comes to pass that I am not a priority in her life. Stay tuned.

So, another night on the town on my own. I baked up a batch of brownies to take with me without knowing where I might be going, but that’s part of the adventure. Walking by Sloppy Joe’s, I saw Chris and Shieryl, so I came inside to have my first beer there. And stayed for several. Troy and Jim also dropped by for some pool and beers. As I prepared to move on to the Green Room, I invited them to join me there. And so began our impromptu barhop.

I shared the brownies with the Green Room girls, and they really went nuts over them. That always makes me feel good. I didn’t buy any lady drinks but gave my waitress a generous tip when I departed. We only stayed for one beer because a pool league tourney was going on, and it was uncomfortably crowded. The nice thing about the Maze is that another venue is just a few steps away, so we stepped into Wet Spot next door.

We got a nice table, and two massage girls started giving Troy and Jim shoulder rubs in exchange for lady drinks. Aine came down from the dance stage and joined us as well. A couple of beers later, Jim suggested going upstairs to La Oficina. I countered that Alaska was right through the curtain in back and they agreed avoiding the stairs was a good plan.

My Alaska favorite, Joy the dancer, was already tabled, saving me a potential lady drink or two. We had a good time teasing the bored waitresses sitting behind our table, and before we left, I rewarded them with a lady drink each. So much for saving, right?

They were pleasantly surprised to receive the drink bounty.

Now, here’s the thing. I’m a semi-regular at Alaska, and it’s a sentimental favorite as the first bar I visited in the Philippines (back when it was in AC). I’m friendly with Jerry, the owner, as well. I was hanging with the guys, so I did not need a drinking companion. But I also know how much difference a lady drink commission can make in a bargirl’s daily salary. I don’t know what wages Jerry pays, but most bars give the girls a flat rate of around 300 pesos for an eight-hour shift. That’s less than a dollar an hour. I personally don’t buy double lady drinks, but the commission on a 170 peso single lady drink is 70 pesos. That may not be much, but it is better than nothing and will cover the transportation to/from work, so there’s that. And, of course, if some happy-go-lucky guy buys them several, they’ve doubled their salary for the day. So, I won’t apologize for buying a drink now and then, but I recognize I need to set limits. I’m getting there. But purchasing a gal a drink gives me a level of pleasure that is worth the expenditure for me. I honestly have no motivation to mess with these girls; I see it more as an act of charity. Like giving cookies to the kids on my hikes. The smiles make me feel good.

We decided to vacate the Maze and head down the highway to the end of town closer to home. I suggested we give the seldom visited Rosie’s a try.

It was okay for a change of seenery.
And then the night ended for me at Queen Victoria. There was dart tourney going on, and I saw a couple of my old dart buddies. Once I get moved, I’m thinking of practicing the game again and maybe participating in some tournaments occasionally. We’ll see.

That was my Tuesday.

I hate it when that happens! I wonder how many I messed up in this post?
At least my sloppy grammar and punctuation leave no question that I am the author!

Alright, gonna shower up and head out to feed the Hideaway girls. See you here tomorrow! Enjoy the sunshine wherever you might be!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3OhtUtqY7Q

One less Weed in the world

In the wee hours of the morning, the storm escalated to include lightning and thunder claps seemingly right outside my window. It woke me up, and as I lay there in the darkness for some inexplicable reason, my mind took me back to high school and a girl I loved named Gail. Since I couldn’t get back to sleep anyway, I got up and consulted Google to try and learn more about how Gail’s life how turned out. Her internet footprint wasn’t very large, but the first result listed was this one:

Lavonne Gail (Weed) Midtgard, 64, passed away at Renown Regional Medical Center on September 20, 2021 after a three week battle with covid pneumonia. She was referred to as Gail to most everyone that knew her.

Lavonne was born May 16, 1957 in Santa Ana, California to James Doyle Weed and Ines Lou (Davis) Weed. She attended Westminster high school.

She moved to Sparks, Nevada in 1993 where she eventually found and married Bill the love of her life.

Lavonne was employed both as an administrator and manager at Lithia Motors until her retirement in 2016. She enjoyed sewing, crafting, and quilt making. She would always brighten up a room with her big smile and kind mannerism. Always ready to help whenever someone needed something done. Her and her husband Bill loved to travel, both by car, motorhome and cruise ship.

I checked my archives but couldn’t find any photos of Gail from those long-ago days we shared. I know I have (or had) some in a box somewhere stateside. This one from the obituary is how I remember her:

She was sweet and fun and always up for an adventure.

She looked a little different at the end of her life:

I wouldn’t have recognized her. I bet she had the same loving heart, though.

I mentioned Gail a couple of times on the blog, including this post about my arrest back in 1973 in Huntington Beach, California. Gail was present for that event. Gail was my second love in high school; her predecessor moved away before my senior year. Gail gifted me her virginity, and we shared some passionate times together. Naturally, I fucked things up with Gail by not making a clean break with the one who moved away. I would occasionally sneak down to San Diego to visit Karen, and for some reason, when Gail found out, she wasn’t cool with it. I guess that scenario sounds familiar, but hey, bad habits have to start somewhere. I really did hate losing Gail and realized once she was gone that I had fucked up. Try as I might, I could not win her back. Which led me to getting a community college classmate pregnant who eventually became my first wife. And the rest is history.

Anyone recognize what this is?
It is called a postcard. This is how people communicated from a distance in the days before email. Oh, and I used to go by my middle name in those days.

Yeah, I just opened up the memory box I do have here with me and found the postcard and some letters Gail had sent me while on vacation with her parents. One consistent theme in each was an entreaty for me to “be good.” One ended with this P.S.: “I’m being good, so would you please?! Reading Gail’s words of love was a sad reminder of how unworthy I’ve always been when someone has trusted me with her heart.

I also found a poem I wrote in those long ago years entitled “New Year’s Eve.” I can’t swear now that it was written with Gail in mind, but I suspect it was. Gail may have been my “second” love, but she was my first broken heart. I paid a hefty price for being unfaithful. Maybe I’m still paying today.

You never even took the time
To see what you were using
And you were shocked when you found out
It was you who did the losing

You never believed in the difference
Between what she felt and your dreams
Her feelings never mattered
You were busy with other things

And you really can't help looking back
Was it all just another game?
You pretend it doesn't matter
But you've never felt quite the same

Because this time there was something more
But you didn't realize it
And when you finally understood
You had already lost it

And when it is finally all over
Will you look at your life and be sad?
Will you remember the people and places
And the love you could have had?

--J.M. McCrarey

I’m sorry that I missed my chance with you, Gail, but I’m happy that it appears you lived a full and happy life. You may be gone, but you are not forgotten.

My closing song will be from another Gail memory. I don’t know why this one has stuck in my head for going on fifty years now, but it’s there. We were driving on a country road in my 1963 Ford pickup truck (technically my dad’s, but he was off at sea). I’m driving, my brother Greg is in the passenger seat, and Gail is riding in the middle. My truck has an 8-track tape player, and we’ve got Stealers Wheel blaring away. Gail was singing along, and when she got to the chorus line of: “clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,” she’d gesture at me and my brother, seeing as how she was stuck in the middle. Good times!

Feeling a little Hashful

I survived the first Hash in my 69th year yesterday, so there you go. As is my custom, I channeled Frank Sinatra and did the trail My Way. I walked to the starting point at Savers on the far side of Barretto from my house and noticed that the end of Hare’s trail came through Alta Vista. So, I did the end of the trail at the beginning, and my “shortcut” took a hunk out from the middle. My version was almost the same length as the official trail, so I didn’t really cheat, not that I give a damn anyway. At my age, I’m just happy to be out and about, and I intend to stay within my limits, such as they are.

The best news was that we got an almost miraculous break in the rain during the Hash yesterday afternoon, which is a good thing, especially on the muddy hills we had to traverse. On-Home was at Blue Butterfly, which is a decent enough venue for the Hash Circle. I’m boycotting IDM, so I did my after-Hash drinking alone at Sloppy Joe’s.

Here’s how the Hash went down:

Purple is the Hare’s trail; green is my shortcut. I cut out a piece featuring a second climb. I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was.
Gathering for the Hash at Savers on the edge of town.
And we are On-On! For the first time ever, I forgot to put on my hat when I left the house yesterday. I was too far down the road to turn around, so I just did without. Damn, scary how fast my brain is deteriorating.
Turning up
Through the ‘hood
And into the hills we go
It is better to pass through than live here, I’d wager. But what do I know?
Cookie delivery
The view from here
Yep. they got some cookies too.
It’s been six months or so since I last passed this way, but they always hear me coming.
My “shortcut” path down was a little more treacherous than I remembered. But no trips, slips, or falls, so it turned out okay.
Back on the pavement at last!
On-Home at Blue Butterfly
The hosts for Friday’s charity hike joined us for the Hash
And Crash Test Dummy got the Hashit as a reward.

It turned out to be a pretty good day on trail, all in all.

It is raining again today, and it appears that wet will be the new normal for a while.

The story I’m hearing is we have not one but two typhoons vying to generate enough wind and rain to create some misery. ‘Tis the season.

And that’s the way it is for now. Well, here’s a quick update on the Swan saga–a brief exchange on Messenger this morning:

Swan: One month we live together. We will be ok.

Me: That’s my hope…

Swan: We will . Thank you for everything. Thank you for always there for me. Thank you. You still understand me.

Me: Trying my best… 🙂

Swan: I know you are. That’s why i thank you..

Seems like progress to me. We’ll see what happens next.

It’s a beautiful morning

That was yesterday, but that’s the day I’m writing about, so it works.

It was Hash Monday, and I wasn’t feeling at the top of my game, but I figured I’d give it a shot and see what happens. After my morning nap, I had an hour to kill and didn’t feel like sitting around, so I went to Sit-n-Bull for a light lunch before the Hash.

A soft-shell chicken taco with beans and rice from the value menu. Tasty it was!

The VFW meet-up location was only a block away, so I hustled over to await the start of the Hash trail. (Thanks to Pubic Head for his photographic contributions to this post. I reckon half of these shots are his.)

The Hare, Fireman, providing guidance on what to expect on trail. He said it was 4.8K with three gentle climbs and two checkpoints. That circle with the ‘x’ is an example of a checkpoint. When you encounter one, you need to explore all possible directions to discover which is the real trail. I personally despise them as a time waster, especially because I’m almost always at the back of the pack.
And we are On-On!
Follow the leaders!
The first climbs begins.
Onward and upward we go!
Hillside living isn’t always pretty.
Leaving it all behind.
A view along the way
Keep it up!
Regrouping up top.
What are we waiting for?
Let’s go!
Just like a walk in the park.
Did I mention it was a beautiful day?
The down that preceded the second up.
At the four corners checkpoint. Finding the Hare’s trail was easy enough, but now it was time to decide: to shortcut or not?
Some chose the long path…
…and some of us were singing “My Way”
The Easter Mountain view
The bay view
The Barretto view
Getting down
Like a broken escalator
How much more motivation do I need?
The red Hash trail and the green shortcut trail. It was all good!
The On-Home venue this week was at Fireman’s house. That’s him in the “boss” shirt. He even had food catered from Jewel Café for all the Hashers. Well done, Todd!
Hanging out
Standing around
Being Gash-ful
The look of love is in her eyes…
Deflowering our two virgins
Drink it down-down-down-down. What doesn’t go in you goes on you! I was impressed that both gals sucked down the whole bottle without it leaving their lips. Well done!

After the Hash was over, I hung out with some of the guys at It Doesn’t Matter. Good times!

Let’s go to the Hash

A nice trail yesterday by Leech My Nuggets. No rain and some paths we’ve not walked for a while to enjoy again. I avoided the second climb as I’m wont to do, but had a pleasant stroll through the streets of Matain and Calapacuan. I’ll let the photos do the talking:

The trail as intended by the Hare
We began and ended at Smokes and Bottles
Off we go!
On the streets of Matain
Some, but not much, highway walking
I’m going to remember this way for my walks–no traffic!
Walking through a little hillside village
Handed out some cookies here
Bath time!
Steppin’ up
A hard but peaceful lifestyle
An empty stretch
I like the trees
A woodsy vibe
The view from here
Keep on movin’ out
What goes up must come down
On the suburban streets of St. James
Just passin’ through
On the road again
That’s Black Rock up ahead
Hello everyone!
A river runs through it
Y’all go on up, I’ll take the flat way
Damn, see what I missed?
Back On-Home at Smokes and Bottles
On the ice!

I spent some time on ice in the “Hash fuckup” category. The charge had to do with last week’s ill-fated trike ride that left me stranded in the wrong part of my neighborhood. That’s what happens when fellow Hashers read your blog.

After completing the Hash rituals, I joined Pubic Head and Demented Dickhead at Snackbar for some additional liquid refreshments. Not my favorite place anymore, but it is convenient to home.

And now it is another day for me to write about tomorrow. I’ll be spending the evening with Swan, and we’ll see if any of my concerns are resolved.

One of those concerns revolves around Swan’s reaction when I sent her this as a joke.

I honestly don’t know what happens next. I’m going to move cautiously on the path of discovery.

Look into my eyes

As good as they look, they feel worse.

As soon as I took my seat in front of Dr. Jo, she saw my problem. Apparently, there is a mini-epidemic of eye infections taking place in our little town. Dr. Jo told me she had seen several other patients suffering from my condition. She also told me she visited a pharmacy nearby to advise they were dispensing the wrong form of eye drops to deal with the outbreak. Anyway, I received my anti-biotic drops directly from her, and she advised I should be fully recovered in three or four days. Today my eyes are better than they were yesterday, but now I’m experiencing some blurred vision issues. Hopefully, this, too, shall pass.

It was too early to go to the Hash On-Home venue, so I popped into Mango’s for a late lunch.

It was raining, so I opted to sit at the bar rather than beachside.
A closer look at said beach. The storm waters are notorious beach litterers.
Too late for lunch, too early for dinner, but not wanting to drink on an empty stomach…seems like the perfect time for a BLT sandwich!

After my meal, it was time to head to Johansson’s for the Hash.

As I walked out on the streets of Barretto…

Along the way, I encountered a vendor selling sunglasses. Hmm, I was a little worried about my scary-looking eyes and wanted to avoid the urge to rub them and potentially spread whatever it was that ailed them, so I bought a pair.

As ridiculous as wearing sunglasses indoors on a rainy day may appear, those zombie-like red eyes looked worse.

When I arrived On-Home, only the Hares were there. I confessed to my shortcutting, having only walked the portion from Alta Vista, less than 1K. Leech My Nuggets, always the fastest among the runners, arrived a few minutes after I did. And then the beer started flowing.

Hanging out before the commencement of the circle.
Let the fun begin!
It’s nice on ice! (Not really, I try to avoid it whenever possible)
Feeling young sitting next to the Fucking Old Man.
Always nice to see a gathering of Hash Gash.

After completing the circle, I made my way up the highway to our traditional post-Hash venue; It Doesn’t Matter. I didn’t need any more beer, but I drank some anyway. Then I caught a trike for home, and things got a little weird.

In rainy weather, the trikes have a covering and door in place to keep the riders dry. That’s all well and good, except you can’t see a damn thing. So, we pass through the gate at Alta Vista, and I tell the driver (one of the few who doesn’t know me), “Take the road to the right, and go all the way up to the top.” Now, shame on me for being drunk, but I couldn’t see that he took the road to the left, and for whatever reason, I didn’t get a sense that we were not heading in the proper direction. When he pulled over and stopped, I sensed the right amount of time had elapsed and got out. I knew immediately that he had missed my house, but I assumed he was in the right vicinity, and I figured I could walk from there. I paid the fare, and the trike departed. Only then did I realize I was fucked.

The blue is where I got dropped; the yellow is where I needed to be. There is no short way to get home from there, unless you can fly like an eagle.

It was pitch black, lightly raining, and I was pissed (both angry and inebriated). Even with my phone’s flashlight, I couldn’t see shit as I walked. I was cussing out loud every step of the way. In the dark, I missed the first turn-up, so I had to continue almost all the way to the gate. Once there, I was faced with a long uphill climb or a shorter flat walk to the highway, where I could catch another trike. I took the easier option.

In five years here, that trike ride was one of the dumbest things I’ve done. Oh well, live and learn, and I survived.

That’s what I want

July has flown, and August has arrived. A wet end to last month and a wet beginning to this one. And life goes on. Yesterday’s Hash was a street walk in Alta Vista and Barretto, places I walk every day. I bailed about halfway through and retreated to the On-Home venue at It Doesn’t Matter to get a head start on my other hobby–beer drinking. I’ll share some Hash photos at the end of this post.

After the Hash, I participated in a brief bar crawl with a few other Hashers. Voodoo, Thumbstar, and Whiskey Girl were more than enough for me. My Whiskey girls, Jen and Kim, said they had never seen me so drunk. On the other hand, I wasn’t so drunk that I forgot them saying that, so there you go. Woke up on time this morning and set about my usual rituals.

The morning sky as seen during the dog walk. Light rain on and off so far today.
And then my morning coffee with Swan.
And the rainy day view from my soon-to-be patio.

My driver picked me up at Swan’s for the weekly grocery shopping excursion to Royal. Swan and my other helper accompanied me as per usual. And by the way, Swan is now officially on my payroll, giving me a total of four employees. This week’s grocery expenditure was 14,700 pesos.

As previously reported, I tracked my expenses through the month of July just to see where the money goes. Looking at the numbers, there were a couple of surprises:

Budget: 275,000 pesos                 Expenses: 316,000              Balance: -41,000

Once again, I overspent my budget, which is not surprising. The challenge is unraveling the “why” and, more importantly, figuring out what I should do to rectify the problem. Here’s where the money went in July:

Groceries: 71,000 (I’d like to get this down to 60,000. That’s still a lot, but I don’t want to scrimp on my grocery purchases. I’ve earned the right to eat what I want, even at a premium.)

Helpers/Driver: 39,000 (That’s pretty much a fixed expense, and it will be going up some now that I’ve employed Swan)

Lady Drinks: 38,000 (Yowzah! This was one of the surprises. I’d like to cut this spending in half)

Rent: 35,000 (This will rise to 40,000 after the move)

Dining: 29,000 (Given how much I spend on groceries, I shouldn’t spend this much in restaurants. On the other hand, I don’t want to deny myself the pleasure of dining out whenever I feel like it. I think I’ll budget myself 20,000 here)

Beer: 27,000 (Is that all? Damn, that’s showing some self-control! Staying in this range should be fine)

Charity: 24,000 (I’ve got my regular projects–the mountain mama MJ and the schoolboy in Bohol. I think 10% of my monthly budget is a good target in this category)

Utilities/Phone: 11,000 (It is what it is. Gotta keep those lights on!)

Shopping: 10,000 (This is mostly clothes and shoes and the like. That amount each month is probably about right)

Tips: 10,000 (I used to be a bigger tipper. Now, I usually give 10% of the bill, sometimes more to a “special” waitress. Not much room for reductions here)

Prescriptions: 7,000 (Gotta keep the old man alive, whatever the cost)

Gifts: 6,000 (I’m trying to recall what gifts I bought. All I can come up with is money I’ve given Joy to help with her kids. I might track that kind of spending as “charity” in the future)

Transportation: 3,000 (Trikes and Jeepneys…no room for savings here)

Entertainment: 3,000 (I honestly don’t remember being entertained last month)

Hash: 2,000 (Now there’s a bargain!)

This month I’ll establish a budget for the various categories and see how well I do abiding by those limits.

Okay, let’s do those Hash photos from yesterday:

That belly of mine is outrageous. Several people have mentioned to me how much it has grown recently. In part, I believe it is a side effect of the steroid medication I’m taking for my sinus congestion. Dr. Jo warned me to reduce my carb intake, and I have failed.
On the wet streets of Alta Vista
In my neck of the ‘hood. Or it will be soon when I move to the new place.
My Easter Mountain shot
The fat man standeth
The view from here
Steppin’ down
The early bird gets the seat
Hash Gash
The long and short of it…Leech My Nuggets and Tiny Cunt

And that’s all I’ve got about that.

I’ll be doing something different this afternoon. Swan invited me to visit the RSL meeting. That’s an Australian group similar to the VFW, except they are open to everyone. I’ve seen them around town on bar hops, and they are well known for their charity projects. So, we’ll see if I’m a good fit.

The best things in life are free
But you can keep 'em for the birds and bees

Now give me money (that's what I want)
That's what I want (that's what I want)
That's what I want (that's what I want) yeah
That's what I want

Your loving give me a thrill,
But your loving don't pay my bills

Now give me money (that's what I want)
That's what I want (that's what I want)
That's what I want (that's what I want) yeah
That's what I want

Money don't get everything it's true
What it don't get I can't use

Now give me money (that's what I want)
That's what I want (that's what I want)
That's what I want (that's what I want) yeah
That's what I want

Well, now give me money (that's what I want)
Whole lot of money (that's what I want)
Whoah yeah, I wanna be free (that's what I want)
Oh, money (that's what I want)
That's what I want, yeah (that's what I want)
That's what I want

A little wet

As I feared would happen, it began raining shortly before the scheduled beginning of the Hash.

The rainy view as I left home for the Hash start at the VFW

The good news is that the rain stopped about the time I arrived and that it hadn’t rained hard enough to wash away the powder trail markings. I gave my instructions to the group and sent them on their way.

On-On and Happy Hashing! (you can see the powder marking in the right-hand corner)
While the Hashers did the trail, I waited at Cheap Charlies with fellow Hare Blow My Pipe. It rained off and on during the hour we were waiting there.

Here are a few photos from the Hash trail:

Steppin’ on down
A hard working Hare
A squatter’s life
A swinger named Fuck Buddy
And Dripping Pussy in a hammock
Thems the mountains!
Waiting for some biscuits.
Here they come!
A visit with mountain mama Onelia
Our trail ended with a street walk back to the VFW On-Home
Anal Receptive and Fireman still going strong on the wet streets at the end of the trail
Hash Gash at the circle
And a Hash birthday cake for Leaking Willy

Feedback on the trail was mostly positive; the biggest complaint was that it was too short (about 4.5K). The trail markings withstood the deluge, and no one got lost. So, I’d rate it a successful day overall.

I started drinking a little after two, continued drinking throughout the circle, and went with the group to It Doesn’t Matter at the conclusion of the Hash. I’d had more beer than I needed by seven p.m. and was home and in bed by eight. Quite a day!

I ought to be the healthiest guy around!

It appears there is a storm a-brewin’, and more wet weather is forecast for this week.

Nothing to be done about it; just hold on to your hat and carry an umbrella.

Got some special plans for today. Grocery shopping, then Swan will join me on an excursion to the mall to assist in my search for some new hiking shoes. Then this evening, Swan will cook for me for the first time, and I’ll do my beer drinking at her place. Looking forward to getting a taste of the domestic lifestyle I’ve been craving!

Hold my place

Just in case I don’t make it back in time to blog at the usual time today, I’ll briefly fill that void now.

I’m one of the Hares for today’s Hash trail. Rain is in the forecast, so we have to make a decision on whether to do the planned off-road hilly hike or stick to the flat pavement. We’ll meet up at 0900 and make the call then.

Nothing significant to report from my night out on the town yesterday.

The food for the Hideaway feeding cost me 2200 pesos. I forgot to get a shot of Joy eating. Sorry!

A couple of beers (and lady drinks) at It Doesn’t Matter, then finished my night at Wet Spot. I was feeling no pain when I caught the trike for home.

Up on schedule this morning. Did my internet “work” and kitchen duties.

Blueberry muffins to accompany my morning coffee with Swan.
As seen on the morning dog walk. So far, so good. But things can change in a hurry.

So, I may be back later with a weather report and any other updates between now and then. Or it could be tomorrow morning. Here’s a poem to tide you over:

The Ideal Husband To His Wife

We've lived for forty years, dear wife,
  And walked together side by side,
And you to-day are just as dear
  As when you were my bride.
I've tried to make life glad for you,
  One long, sweet honeymoon of joy,
A dream of marital content,
  Without the least alloy.
I've smoothed all boulders from our path,
  That we in peace might toil along,
By always hastening to admit
  That I was right and you were wrong.

No mad diversity of creed
  Has ever sundered me from thee;
For I permit you evermore
  To borrow your ideas of me.
And thus it is, through weal or woe,
  Our love forevermore endures;
For I permit that you should take
  My views and creeds, and make them yours.
And thus I let you have my way,
  And thus in peace we toil along,
For I am willing to admit
  That I am right and you are wrong.

And when our matrimonial skiff
  Strikes snags in love's meandering stream,
I lift our shallop from the rocks,
  And float as in a placid dream.
And well I know our marriage bliss
  While life shall last will never cease;
For I shall always let thee do,
  In generous love, just what I please.
Peace comes, and discord flies away,
  Love's bright day follows hatred's night;
For I am ready to admit
  That you are wrong and I am right.

--Sam Walter Foss

Streets of Barretto

As I walked out in the streets of Barretto
As I walked out for the Hash yesterday
The raindrops were falling but that didn't stop me
I marched on to the On-Home that was so far away

Oh walk ahead briskly or move along slowly
Open the umbrella and hold on so strong
It doesn't matter if it's raining or sunny
Cold beer is awaiting so you can't go wrong

With apologies to whoever it was who wrote “Streets of Laredo.” My lyric writing is almost as good as my joke-telling.

Anyway, the Hash ethos dictates that we go out and do our thing every Monday, rain or shine. Now, that doesn’t mean accommodation for the weather doesn’t occur. Yesterday’s Hares, Leech My Nuggets and Bug Fucker, laid a flat trail and stayed on the paved streets of Barretto for the most part (there was a bit on the beach, too). The rain was light for the most part, and the wind wasn’t as bad as it had been, so that helped. I honestly found the hike almost pleasant as I was free from the worry of slipping, sliding, or falling down some steep embankment. And that cold beer was waiting at our On-Home venue, Blue Butterfly.

I’d say we covered the whole of Barretto yesterday. Well, not Baloy Beach, but everything else.
Hashers on the march
It was all familiar turf for me. This is the Columban College road.
I wouldn’t bite anything they might catch in that water!
An umbrella walk
Hard to keep dry feet on this hike
It could be better, I suppose, but I’ve seen much worse.
One of the few “off-road” spots
Mary’s old school. She seems to be doing well in Manila.
This was the beach access passage. I didn’t enjoy walking through that mucky water.
On the beach
Stormy seas
Surf’s up! It may not look like much, but normally the bay has no waves at all.
Speaking of nature’s beauty, here are the Blue Butterfly gals.
Beef and onion pie for my after-hike supper.
Gathering for the Hash circle
Cumslinger must be thinking, “How am I going to compete with that?” as his girlfriend, Whatever You Want, has her eyes on the prize.
The Hash Gash and a photo bomber.

It was a nice Hash run despite the foul weather. After the Hash, some of us gathered at It Doesn’t Matter for some more imbibing. I got a banana split to go from Sit-n-Bull to take home with me, and it was masarap!

Four days of rain impeded the outdoor drying of my laundry, so yesterday, my helper brought it inside. Whatever it takes, including a blow job from the fan.

I covered the unfortunate passing of Rex Lewis in yesterday’s post, and today that story made the news. The biggest surprise for me was that Rex was only 57. He was frail and sickly, so I had him pegged as being older than me. This photo is also featured in the news article I linked:

Rescuers try to save a 57-year-old British national who drowned after pulling his son toward a shallow portion of the water at a beach area in Olongapo City on Sunday, July 16.

A good man gone too soon.

On a lighter note, there is this:

Good to know.

I’m no expert on commas, but I know better than to misuse a colon like this:

Nope, not even if it were a semicolon.

Alright, that’s all for today. I’ll leave you with some Marty Robbins for your listening enjoyment (it’s only two and a half minutes, so suck it up and enjoy some old-school country western music that I grew up on courtesy of my father).

I’m talking to you, Kevin Kim

UPDATE: The most egregious errors noted in the comments have now been corrected. Thanks, Mr. Kim.

Hashy beach day

Yesterday’s Hash was refreshing in its easiness–a mostly flat 4.5K walk on the streets and beaches of Barretto, Baloy, and Matain. It even featured a refreshing beer stop at Laharny’z on Baloy. On-Home was at the Smokes and Bottles resto-bar, a pleasant venue in Matain.

The joy of an easy trail with no fucking hills to climb is a rare treat, indeed!
Gathering at the VFW for words of wisdom from the Hare before hitting the streets and beaches.
On-On!
A glove without a hand
Hitting the beach
Barretto Beach. Baloy is on the other side of that promontory point in the bay.
Beach walkers
Sandy stepping
Chico and the Man (am I the only one old enough to get that reference?)
Define the opposite of pristine
Leaving the beaches of Barretto behind
And headed for Baloy.
On top of that promontory point I mentioned earlier.
Baloy Long Beach
Looking for the way down
And there it be
The most challenging part of the trail, for sure
But thankfully, it didn’t last long.
Come on down, the water’s fine
Strollin’ on the sand again
Who’s that handsome fella?
Here comes some Hash Gash
Beer stop
A group shot before continuing with the hike.
We’ve still got a river to cross. (seeing that guy doing a backflip in mid-air is pretty funny)
That river I mentioned
And crossing said river. Actually, it’s the Matain River, not the said river.
One of the Hares, Buddy Fucker, with powder in hand
Heading for the On-Home venue
And here we are
Early arrivals
Party girls
I guess that’s why his Hash name is “I Suck Dick”
It was Fuck Buddy’s birthday, and the Filipinas were drinking the hard stuff.
And as is the custom, we wished her a Hashy Birthday by making her a cake.

After the Hash, I enjoyed some additional adult beverages at Snackbar, then took a trike back home. Had some chat with my sweetie Swan (who has zero interest in Hashing) and then hit the hay. The power went out around 4 a.m., and I woke up a sweaty mess. But the day has gone better since.

More on today, tomorrow.

I still can’t drive 55

But I can Hare it! Yesterday was run #1555 of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers, and it was my honor to help lay the trail. Seeing as how I was born in 1955, it was a blessing to still have the stamina and ability to do three moderate climbs on a 6K trek.

The path we set for the Kennel to follow. That purple line is the way of the short cutters.
My fellow Hare, Blow My Pipe

I had my hands full with powder and chalk, but here are a couple of the scenic shots I managed to take while marking the trail:

There was Easter Mountain, of course
The Subic side of town
And the beloved Barrio Barretto
And a beef stew lunch at Johansson’s when the work was done.

I went home, showered and changed, then headed back to the VFW for the 2 p.m. start and provided last-minute guidance and instructions for the group.

The calm before the storming of the hills

I wasn’t on the trail, of course, but here are some photos others took during the hike.

Short cutters Buddy Fucker and Fuck Buddy
And she was swingin’
It was good to see 18-Kilo Ass back out after missing a couple of months.
I just call him “ISD” because I find saying his name out loud (I Suck Dick) a little disconcerting.
Movin’ on out
Move that Ass!
Nearing the finish
And On-Home achieved!
A gathering of Gash
Hare’s on the ice! (Derby’s Bitch had to join us for the crime of professing to have liked the trail).

As is our custom, after the Hash circle was completed, a contingent of Hashers reconvened at It Doesn’t Matter for more beer imbibing. Since I didn’t do the trail, I had already been drinking longer than usual and departed early. I did make one more stop on the way home, though:

A Sit-n-Bull banana split to take home for my bedtime treat.

Fuck the carbs. I’d rather die fat and happy than deny myself life’s simple pleasures.

As I prepared this post, I checked to see if I had ever used “I can’t drive 55” previously. It turns out I had, in a post about my 55th birthday. Loads of pictures and memories in that one. I still find it shocking how everything you thought your life would be can fade away into nothingness. Well, I’ll try and do better with holding on to this new life I’ve found in the Philippines.

An interesting morning today. I’ll write about that tomorrow, but here’s a little foreshadowing:

Time to move on.

Milli Vanilli

Welp, another milestone in my Hashing career–my first-ever journey with the Manila Hash House Harriers. They were here in Barretto for an outstation run, and several of us Subic Hashers joined in the fun. In fact, the Hare was none other than Leech My Nuggets, who, unbeknownst to me, used to Hash in Manila back in the day. There were two trail options, long and short, and being the old fat fucker that I am, I opted for the short. A tad over 3K all in and covering a familiar portion of the My Bitch trail.

The path I took began at the Outback Resort and ended at the On-Home venue–Johansson’s.
The view from the Outback
And we are On-On!
Up this narrow alley way
And into Alta Vista
As you can maybe see, I’ve fallen pretty far behind the group in front of me…

But there are still some stragglers behind me
Back on the Bitch. I’ve let it be known that when my time comes, I want to be cremated and spread on the Bitch trail during a Hash run.
A shady spot
Upsy daisy
The Hare (shirtless) was waiting at the Four Corners junction–long trail to the left, short trail to the right.
That’s Jay, owner of the Hot Zone bar and former Grandmaster of the Subic Hash. He quit our group a couple of years ago, so it was good to see him out on trail again.
My Easter Mountain shot
Jay had his dog with him
A view of the Kalaklan Ridgeline. Those houses are at the far end of Rizal Extension
The view from here
Barrio Barretto
The tall building in the center is the Capitol Reef Hotel. The other side of that little peninsula is Baloy Beach.
Some new construction, all by hand–there is no vehicle access up here.
One more bay view
Then down we go
Back on the pavement
And On-Home. Let the beer-drinking begin!

You can Relive the hike here if you are so inclined:

So, one interesting aspect of Hashing with an out-of-town group is observing their Hash circle rituals. Manila doesn’t do the ice thing but has other tools of humiliation to impose punishment. Some of the things they did struck me as a tad gay (not that there is anything wrong with it):

I’m not exactly sure just what the heck is going on here.
I’ll take sitting on the ice over this any day!

It was a good Hash, though, and I enjoyed the experience. Plus, I got a nifty new Hash shirt!

The front
I *think* this is referring to a change in Hash leadership that took place at the end of the circle.

One more Hash to add to my participation list:

  • Subic Bay H3 (my mother Hash)
  • Humphreys Hangover H3 (the Hash that named me in Pyeongtaek)
  • Angeles City H3
  • Corona H3 (also in Angeles City)
  • La Union H3 (I’ve done several with them, including the Valentine’s Hash in Baguio)
  • Pattaya H3
  • Pattaya Jungle H3
  • Manila H3

I titled this post Milli Vanilli as a kind of play on the Manila name and some of the Hash group’s effeminate rituals (oh, I forgot to mention, this is an exclusively male group, no women allowed). I was never a fan of the Milli Vanilli singing duo and had actually forgotten about their lip-synching scandal, and it’s tragic outcome for one of the singers. No offense intended!

Doing the short trail meant I started drinking early (in Subic, the free beer doesn’t flow until 3:30) and the Manila Hash circle seemed inordinately long, which of course, required additional beers to pass the time. I was buzzing when it was finally over, but that didn’t stop me from paying a visit to Cheap Charlies. Hey, it wasn’t even six o’clock yet on a Saturday night!

My regular crew seemed happy to see me again.

A couple more beers (and lady drinks, of course) later, I crossed the highway for a nightcap at Wet Spot. I stayed longer than I intended because the owner Daddy Dave was there, and we had some catching up to do. It turned out to be a nice evening on the town.

In other news, I looked at a potential house rental yesterday. It’s actually where Swan was living with her significant other, but she needs to move out now that he’s gone.

It needs some work, including a gate across the front so my dogs have a yard to play in.
The inside needs some work as well, including kitchen cabinets and aircon.
But the view is acceptable as is
I could get used to seeing that every morning

Some negotiations are to come with the landlord. I need to pay six months’ advance rent to pay for the work that needs to be done. I’m okay with that as long as I have a good lease agreement to protect my investment. Hope it all works out.

The Sunday feeding at Hideaway is the next item on my agenda. We’ll see what happens after that.

Ko Lan oscopy

Here’s the lowdown on my Saturday adventure with the Pattaya Jungle Hash House Harriers. The Hash took place on Ko Lan island, around seven kilometers off the coast of Pattaya. The island is small (4K by 2K), so our trail covered a lot of ground, relatively speaking.

Less than 4K with a moderate climb

They say getting there is half the fun, so I’ll start the tale with that part. The ferry to Ko Lan launches from the Bali Hai pier, located on the far end of Walking Street. So, I took a Baht Bus from my hotel to the end of Beach Road, then hoofed it on Walking Street about 1K to the pier. Walking Street is the most infamous street in Pattaya for seedy nightlife (i.e., nude dancing), if that’s your thing. I only visited during the daylight hours on this trip.

If you are feeling devilish, I hear you can have a hell of a good time at this disco.
I was shocked to see just how crowded the pier was on a Saturday morning. I read later that the island sometimes has as many as 20,000 visitors a day during high season.
I guess no boats were leaving from this section of the pier. Either that or it is haunted.
A nice view of Pattaya from the pier.
And a look in the other direction
The type of ferry we’ll be riding
The gathering Hashers
Loading up the boat
And we are off!
Some of my fellow passengers
Dave had the worst seat on the boat. He was drenched from spray by the time we reached the island.
Jo sacrificed the view for a dry ride.
Approaching our destination and the spray is a-flying.
I read that there are around 8,000 residents on the island.
Ko Lan is a hilly little place
The beach
Hashers disembarking from the ferry.
A shrine of our times.
That beach I saw from the boat
Our Hare (in the dark shirt) leading us to the On-Home location. His Hash name here is Wild Wolf, but back when he was living in the Philippines and a regular with the Subic Hash, he was known as Slimy Limey. He recently made the news by completing a one-thousand-kilometer walk from Pattaya to Phuket to raise money for a children’s charity he supports.
Our host venue was a small restaurant on the beach. They set us up in some storage space out back for the Hash circle. Pattaya Jungle Hash also does the before and after circle format. The only problem I have is sitting around waiting to get started.
I passed the time counting the shells of this pillar.
And we are (finally) On-On!
We started out on the frontage road along the beach.
Nearing the end of the beach
Along a rocky shoreline
Down the road…
…and up some steps

Then things went south for me. About halfway up the steps I had a breathing attack. Dave and Jo waited for me to reach them, and when I arrived I thought I was going to have to turn back because I didn’t think I could make the rest of the climb. I had my portable nebulizer in my backpack, so I pulled that out and inhaled some salbutamol into my lungs. After about five minutes I had regained a semblance of normal breathing (at least, as normal as it gets for me) and opted to continue the hike. I made it the rest of the way without much difficulty.

The breathtaking view
That’s more like it
On up
I saw some of these (whatever they are) along the way. I guess passersby leave an offering to whatever they worship in the form of a soft drink. I’m sure they have good intentions, but it looks like trash to a non-believer.
Speaking of trash, litter was almost non-existent in Pattaya, not so much on Ko Lan. The Wiki link I left above says that the island generates more garbage than can be hauled away. So, I guess the locals don’t have much incentive for proper disposal. To be clear, the beaches appear clean, but these backroads, not so much.
The old dirt road
And back on the pavement
The view from up here
And then heading back down to the beach

Once we arrived back at our On-Home venue, we got a table in the restaurant to order some lunch.

This? Nope, not for 1000 baht!
I wasn’t in a crabby mood either
Decisions, decisions. I wonder what the “burnt” mussels taste like?
Guess I’ll never know, because I went with the Tom Yum soup…
…with prawns. Very tasty. Or should I say, “Yum!”
Gathering for the “after” circle

The Pattaya Jungle Hash doesn’t normally have the ice feature. Dave wasn’t having that, so he went to the nearby 7/11 store and bought bags of ice to add some Subic flavor to the proceeding. It seemed to go over quite well.

The last boat back to the mainland left at 4:00 p.m., and as the Hash circle drug on, I was getting a little nervous. As much as I enjoyed my time on Ko Lan, I wasn’t keen on sleeping on the beach. I left the circle a little early at 3:30 just to be on the safe side.

Heading back to the docks
I bought a tall can of the local brew to help pass the time until departure.
The stragglers boarding the ferry for Pattaya
Pattaya on the horizon
We were all a little drunker than when we arrived.
“You getting seasick, Jo?”
Pattaya, here we come!
And back on the Bali Hai pier. Check out that girl. No, I mean the one wearing her backpack wrong.

But wait, the fun wasn’t done. There was an after Hash gathering at a bar called June’s. And at the end of the pier, there was a Baht Bus waiting to take us there.

Soi 25, you say? I’d never gotten that far before.
I used to hang out at Sin Bin long ago. The one in Itaewon, I mean.
And I’ll be going to Cheap Charlies later today. The one in Barretto, I mean.
Hanging out at June’s bar

True confession time. I don’t remember much about my time there at June’s bar. I was over my beer-intake capacity, and things are all a little bit fuzzy.

But by the look on my face, I seem to be having a grand ol’ time hanging out with Buddy Fucker and Slimy Limey.

Food was coming, but I knew I was entering “now or never” territory, so I said my goodbyes and headed for home. Well, my hotel, anyway.

It all looks so familiar. And so oddly different at the same time.

I walked and walked but didn’t find any familiar landmarks to guide me. Finally, I hailed a cab. The fare to my hotel was 300 baht; the most I’d paid previously was 200. It turns out I had been walking in the wrong direction all that time. Oh well, the taxi driver got me where I was going. The fucker was a no-show for the trip I arranged with him to the airport the following day, but that turned out alright too.

A bedtime treat at my favorite restaurant, then across the street to my hotel and the peace and comfort of my bed.

I still don’t know how my phone got wet, but when I picked my shorts up off the floor the next morning, they were wet too. I wonder if I peed my pants on the way home?

Anyway, that’s how my last day and night in Pattaya went down. And yesterday, I posted about the longest day that followed. I enjoyed my time in Thailand, but it’s good to be back in my little town again. It’s hard to get lost here.

Stick around, and we’ll see what happens next.

Maybe next time. Although, I’m thinking Vietnam is due for a revisit.

Thaiing one On-On

I survived my first outing with the Pattaya Hash House Harriers. It was quite a bit different than how we do things in Subic–some of it I liked, some not so much. They do utilize the ice-sitting, and I got to experience that cold goodness twice in the after-circle. I say after circle because Pattaya does a pre-circle as well. In that one, they discuss the coming trail, go over some Hash business, remind people of the rules, initiate virgins, and punish violators (like the fool who wore new shoes to the Hash). I didn’t like waiting around forty-five minutes for the start of the pre-circle at 4:00. We were out in the countryside, and all the locals knew to bring a chair, but I just had to stand around with nothing to do and nowhere to sit. Yeah, yeah, I shouldn’t be such a whiner.

I was able to purchase this colorful Hash shirt to add to my collection.

It was an “A to A” Hash, which means the trail started and finished in the same location. And that location was over twenty kilometers from Pattaya out in farm country. They had a short and long trail, and of course, I opted for the short option, which was just under 5K. I walked to Hash home bar to catch a “bus, adding another 3+K to my day. So, I’ll start the Hash story with that adventure.

I used Google Maps to plot my course to the meeting place at Buffalo Bar. The problem was it didn’t clearly identify the street names I needed to take. So, I used the Waze app to get directions. The trouble with Waze is that it plots a course for automobiles, meaning one-way streets in the wrong direction aren’t options, even if they would be the best route for a walker. So, I tried navigating around that and screwed things up several times.
My misadventures are captured here, although I did eventually reach my destination.
Along the way I saw a couple of shrines like this honoring Buddha.
Here’s another one.
Came across this Hard Rock Cafe on Beach Road. Maybe I’ll pay them a visit in my quest for Thai food.
Beach Road
This is a “Bhat Bus,”–Thailand’s version of the Jeepney. These were the type of buses that carried us to the Hash trail location.
This building looked interesting enough to take a picture of for some reason.
Ah, the name of that building above.
In my wanderings, I came across this eerily familiar place. Yes, I visited the Pussy Bar back in 2016 and discovered there wasn’t a pussy in the place. I wrote about that experience in a post called “Lola.”
And at last, I arrived at my intended destination, Buffalo Bar.
Where I was joined by fellow Subic hashers, Dave and Jo.
We still had 45 minutes before the first “bus” was scheduled to leave, so I had the waitress order me a chicken quesadilla from the Mexican joint next door. There we no local food options available here, promise! I can honestly say this quesadilla was absolutely the worst I’ve ever tasted. I only managed to down two slices.
The inside of Buffalo Bar.
The route to the start of the Hash trail–23K from Buffalo Bar. Subic Hashers are lucky because we can hit the hills right out the backdoor. Urban Hashes like Pattaya have to travel out of town to find a trail.
Loaded up in the Bhat Bus for the forty-minute ride to the Hash start. It held ten of us in relative comfort.
And we have finally arrived. I’m not sure what the actual number of attendees was, but I’d guess seventy or more. Much larger than the Subic Hash, but then, Pattaya is a much larger city.
Thanks for having us!
The pre-Circle. One of the rules is you can’t photograph at the after Circle. I don’t know why.
And we are FINALLY On-On!
Way off on the horizon, you can just see the Pattaya skyline.
Let’s get it done!
I didn’t mind following her behind, I mean behind her. She was on my bus, but I guess her watch was broken because she wouldn’t give me the time of day.
The trail was mostly flat, but there were occasional challenges, like coming down this embankment.
Through the fields we go.
Those houses ahead were abandoned. In fact, throughout the hike I never saw a local resident or occupied building.
A woodsy stretch
Then back to the wide open spaces.
I think I’d miss the mountains if I lived here.
Even without challenging terrain, I was huffing and puffing a bit along the way. I tried to do my deep breathing exercises, and it helped some.
Marching ever onward
The trail was actually very well marked, but we had to backtrack a couple of times when we veered off course.
Through the palms we go
I can see clearly now.
The farmer wasn’t in the dell; I hope he didn’t mind that we were.
The end is near
The final push
And back to our base camp. Laughed at the ad on this Bhat Bus.
The trail started where it ended, I just forget to turn on my tracker at the beginning.

The after Circle was okay, the usual Hash stuff, but the songs weren’t as raunchy as we sing in Subic. They had a raffle and I won this:

Are these authentic Thai biscuits?

So, we did the usual beer drinking, although they didn’t have Zero beer, so I did the San Miguel Light. More alcohol and calories, but I’m on vacation, damn it! So, I was feeling no pain when we boarded the busses back to Pattaya and another Hash bar called I-Rovers.

That would be it. I need to find it again tonight. Tonight I’m meeting an old dart friend from Barretto who lives here now.
I *think* I only had one beer at I-Rovers, but I took a picture of my dessert. As good as it looks.

Well, I was more than a little drunk at this point, and I had no other way back to my hotel than my feet, so I headed out. Walked through an interesting bar area along the way. I need to go back at some point and check it out more thoroughly.

Looks like my kind of place! And I just spotted the clue about location on the sign–LK Metro is a famous bar area here. I’ll be back to explore!
And these marijuana shops are all over the place since pot was legalized last year.

Stop! You’re killing me!
I’ve heard about the kink in Thailand–girls with something “extra.” No thanks!
Another pot shop
Talk about getting high!

Anyway, I found my way to the hotel, safe and sound. I miss having my trike driver friends around, though. I need to be more careful in the future; stumbling around in the dark in a strange city is not a good idea.

More adventures to come.

Drenched in drama

Yesterday’s Hash was a wet one; the rain began right when we started and continued off and on throughout the hike. We were fortunate that the rain ended just before the Hash Circle began at the On-Home, Malibog Mountain Momma’s place, which offers little shelter from the storm. The “easy” trail was 7K and mostly flat, but the one climb came near the end, which made it a little more difficult. The way I was loudly wheezing during the ascent had several of my fellow Hashers worried that I wasn’t going to make it. I did, though.

The drama came in the form of Angie’s friend, Rose. She is the one who stole 500 pesos off my kitchen table a few weeks ago. I was surprised to see her at the Hash acting like nothing had happened. I told Angie I wouldn’t pay for Rose, but she participated anyway. At the conclusion of the Hash circle, Rose approached me asking to borrow 500 pesos! I let her know in no uncertain terms that that was not going to happen after what she had done. I was pissed and decided it was best for me to leave, so I headed down the mountain. I caught a trike to IDM and was the first Hasher to arrive. About two beers later, the rest of the pack arrived, including Angie and Rose. I bought Angie a beer and ignored Rose, who was already obviously very drunk and had brought two bottles of Hash beer with her (a big no-no. Yeah, it is stealing.) After a bit, Rose approached me again, and this time I didn’t hold back, telling her to keep the fuck away from me. She slinked back over to her chair; I paid my tab and headed home. Angie messaged me this morning, apologizing and promising that Rose would never attend again. A little late, the damage was done.

The easy trail is in red, and the hard trail is in yellow. The easy trail was actually longer than the hard trail but didn’t have the steep vertical climb the others had to endure.
Gathering for last-minute instructions from the Hare, Vienna Sausage.
The Hardheads board a hired Jeepney for the ride out to the start of their trail. I’m told only seven of the twenty-eight Hashers in attendance yesterday opted for the hard trail.
And the sane group begins their trek from the VFW.
The trail took us through Alta Vista
And back out the other side
On the muddy streets of San Isidro
Cookie time!
I wasn’t sure where the Hare was leading us…
But it turned out to be a valley walk. Wet and mild!
On-On Whatever You Want
Be careful, ladies!
Now which way do we go? The rain had washed most of the powder markings away.
But we eventually found our way.
Easter Mountain through the rain
It was touch and go, but I made it to the On-Home alive!
It’s nice on ice!
Our hostess with a BIG surprise

I received recognition (and time on the ice) for completing my 250th run with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers.

And then the drama I mentioned earlier began.

I’ll take that as a sign!
Maybe so. Lots to think about during my getaway to Thailand. Lord, don’t let the drama follow me there!

King of the road

All trails lead to Yero’s. At least they did for yesterday’s Hash.

The red line is the path the Hare intended. The orange line is the route the “sane” group chose. Our trail was actually a tad longer than the Hare’s but much, much flatter.
The “sane” Hashers gathered at the Alta Vista Community Center. Six of us this time (not shown is Pubic Head since he’s behind the camera for this and many other shots in today’s post.)
There’s Pubic Head
We speculated about how much longer this tree will remain standing. I don’t see it making it through rainy season, especially if there is some wind involved.
Trailers for sale or rent…”
Flower power
Forward march!
Through a village in San Isidro
Over the river…
…and past the hills…
…to grandmother’s house, we go. Actually, I didn’t see a grandmother, but a flock of hungry kids came out looking for their biscuits.
Waiting on the slowpoke
There was one spot where our sane trail intersected with the Hare’s trail, and who should we encounter at that moment? None other than Leech My Nuggets, probably the fastest Hasher in our Kennel.
Almoranus and a virgin Hasher weren’t far behind.
But we kept right on marching to the beat of our own drummer.
We just marched the dusty trail
Another cookie delivery
Who let the dogs out?

Looks like this cow liked the look of Fuck Buddy’s ass…
If you say so. But may I enter?

Through a neighborhood in Calapacuan…
…and onto the National Highway.
We arrived at our On-Home venue, Yero’s, six kilometers from where we began.
Ain’t that a pisser?
Some Hash Gash for your viewing pleasure.
I passed the Hashit to Leech My Nuggets, charging him with being so fast and agile that he makes me appear old and fat. He advised me to have a look in the mirror.

And that’s pretty much the story of how this week’s Hash went down. The other thing that happened was my decision to stop by Snackbar on my way home. I saw someone there I’d missed, and I remembered what it was like to have passion in my life. All the beer in the world won’t fill that void, but it doesn’t stop me from trying.

Facebook memories showed me a happy couple who got together a few years before I was born.

Mom and Dad before they were Mom and Dad, circa 1950 or so.

Alrighty then, time for me to get out of here.

A path less traveled

I almost skipped yesterday’s Hash. The fact that the trail started way out near the top of Rizal Extension was one pain in the ass factor. The On-Home was at the private residence of Malibog Mountain Momma, which is also off the beaten path at the end of Rizal Extension and meant my drunken stumble home after the Hash would be more perilous than usual (trikes that far out are few and far between). But Pubic Head suggested we do a “sane” trail that started in Alta Vista and avoided the main ups and downs of the Hare’s intended path. So, that’s what we did.

What Leech My Nuggets had planned for us…
The yellow is the path my group took instead
Just a handful of us did the alternative trail
Off we go! The skies were threatening, and the thunder was rolling, but the expected raindrops never fell.
That mountain we climb at Easter
Only one moderate climb on our chosen path
But that didn’t stop us from taking a breather halfway up.
Damn, what was it I ate last night that left me feeling so gassy today?
Sorry about that, ladies. That’s why they call me an old fart.
A view from on high. Yep, it is burning season again.
Looking back toward the water
And a valley view
And we did connect with the intended trail near the end of our hike
The steps of a resting development
It was nice seeing my mountain friend, MJ, again.
Onward we go!
My favorite view from the hike
Down we go!
Our On-Home venue. The old timers tell me that when the guy who built this place out in the wilderness was still alive, the Hash On-Home here was a regular event. It was nice of the widow to have us out again for old times’ sake.
It’s on a sizeable tiered lot, well maintained and landscaped.
Hanging out
Sitting around
Circle up!
I got the Hashit, the Subic Hashit
For being stupid on trail today
I have to hold it until I pass it
Won’t someone take my Hashit away?
Drink it down, down, down, down…

At the conclusion of the Hash circle, I began the long trek down Rizal Extension into town. Luck was with me, though, and an empty trike appeared before I had logged a kilometer.

I briefly attended the after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter.

And so ended another Hash Monday.

What’s in store for tonight?

More of the same old, same old, no doubt

Take it on the run

I didn’t do the Hare’s trail yesterday. I didn’t like the hassle of getting to the start way up on Rizal Extension, and I don’t like the Hare or his shitty trails. So, I made my own way. Ashley asked where the trail began, and I gave her the option to join me. She agreed and brought her friend Rose along. They arrived in time for some lunch before our hike.

Baby back ribs, Brussels sprouts, and garlic bread.

So, when I cleared the table to serve lunch, I moved my empty box of nebulizer juice to the kitchen counter and put 500 pesos underneath it so my helper could buy more at the drugstore. While enjoying my after Hash beers at Blue Butterfly, my helper sent me a message asking where the 500 pesos went. Yep, apparently, one of my guests decided to help herself to the money. I was both pissed and disappointed. When confronted, they both denied being a thief.

After I got home last night, Ashley messaged me. She didn’t exactly implicate her friend, but she did note that Rose was the last one out of the house when we left for the hike. I also recalled that during lunch, Rose had asked me out of the blue whether I had CCTV. That seemed suspicious then and even more so now. I asked how long Ashley had known Rose, and they met at work a few months ago. Anyway, I suspect Rose is the culprit, but I don’t trust either of them now. Lesson learned for a relatively small amount of money.

My plan for the hike was to do the My Bitch trail and then circle around on the backstreets to the On-Home venue. A couple of kilometers into my hike, I ran into the “sane” Hash group going in the opposite direction. My group joined forces with theirs, and we finished the Hash together. This did require a retreat and retracing of steps in the opposite direction, but no big deal.

You can see how far I made it before joining the group, where the red line ends above. Still a pleasant hike over familiar territory, though.
Leaving my place. “What has they gots in their pocketses?”
Bitches on My Bitch
Fancy meeting you guys here…
Combined forces
Long time no see, Easter Mountain.
A cookie delivery to my mountain friend Olivia’s grandkids

Olivia wasn’t around, but I did get to say hello to her daughter Jennifer (mother of those kids above). Pubic Head (Scott) posted these photos of Jennifer today:

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.
Making our way back down
Country livin’
And by golly, we were on the actual Hash trail for the last half kilometer or so.
Blue Butterfly, our On-Home venue
That’s me making myself at home
It’s nice on ice!

Drank my fill of beer, got some takeout food from Sit-n-Bull, then watched a couple more episodes of Lucifer at home. A bit of a roller coaster ride emotionally but live and learn.

Just a little flattery

It’s been said that flattery gets you nowhere, but yesterday at least, it made for a mostly level Hash trail. It wasn’t so much an aversion to hills; there just weren’t any around in the part of San Antonio we visited. Still, we laid a long (10K) trail with a 6K option for those who don’t like too much of a good thing. Most of the hike was through farmland (primarily rice and corn), but it was in an area that hadn’t been Hashed in years, so it was new to almost everyone in attendance.

The On-Home was at the FRA, a venue I always enjoy when I visit. It’s always nice to get out of town for a change of pace. Here’s how it all went down:

This depiction of our trail is on the level. The black line chops off that 4K loop on the right. I did almost the whole trail while laying powder and chalk, and I was flat tired at the end.
My fellow Hares, Pubic Head, and Anal Receptive
The FRA, from whence the trail began and ended.
A short excursion up the highway
Marking the junction–short trail continues straight, and the long trail turns right
Now what do we do?
Well, we sure as hell ain’t crossing that bridge!
The only traffic we encountered on this road
Let’s turn right and go thataway…
Briefly back on the highway…
…before turning up this sidestreet
Cutting through the fallow field
And past the cornstalks
I love this old tree
Keep on keepin’ on!
What it looked like where we was…
This was the biggest surprise of the day…when we scouted the trail last month, you could make this crossing without getting your feet wet. Not so yesterday.
Luckily, it wasn’t all that deep.
Almost done now

We returned to the FRA at noon, and the bus from Barretto arrived at 12:30.

Here come the Hashers!
Providing guidance to the group before they head out for the trail. I opted to keep the water crossing near the end as a surprise. Why spoil the fun?
On-On!
Through the fields, they go!
Posers
Flatlanders
Marching along
Looking good, Whatever You Want.
What kind of nuts are those?
Made it through the water.
Back at the FRA and chowing down.
Drink ’em down, Hashers!
Sweet FRA waitresses did a good job taking care of the group.
Circle up!
It’s nice on ice!
And when it was all over, the group bussed safely back to Barretto.

All in all, a good day, even if we didn’t get too high. I finished my trail marking responsibilities around noon, so I naturally started downing the San Miguel Zeros. We finished around five, and I was definitely done. I went straight home and spent some time with the devil.

I don’t know about that.