Yesterday’s Hash was a different kind of challenge and one I’m more suited to endure. In honor of the birthday of the Grand Master (who was also the Hare), the Hash trail was a stroll through several Barretto bars with a special celebration at the On-Home venue.

We gathered at the VFW and at the appointed hour (2 p.m.) began our trek.

I guess I shortcut the party by leaving early, but I know when to say when. At least most of the time.

Five years ago, I was still strolling around Saigon (or Ho Chi Minh City, if you prefer).

In today’s YouTube video, Reekay talks about his biggest mistake in the Philippines. No real surprise it involved a woman.

Humor me these:

Halfway through my Tuesday here, and what comes next is going to happen on Baloy Beach. Whatever that may turn out to be, you can read about tomorrow right here at LTG.

And as an added bonus, here is the “hearing the Turtles for the first time” video:

Luckily, I didn’t have to experience the nightmare firsthand. I wound up taking the My Bitch option to the Hash On-Home at Always Wet’s house on Rizal Extension. I had a few beers there, then left before the Circle commenced. I was one of the first to arrive, which wasn’t that unusual given my relatively short alternative trail, but what was weird was that the Hare, Vienna Sausage, had yet to return from marking the trail. His girlfriend (Always Wet) said he’d left at ten in the morning and was still out there. Hmm, it was 3:30 now, and the Hashers had started the trail at 2:00. What was going on? It was close to four when the first runner, Leech My Nuggets, showed up, and he wasn’t a happy camper. It seems that the Hare had gotten lost in the thick underbrush and rampant grasses at this time of year. Leech encountered Vienna during his retreat, and they found a different way down from Kalaklan Ridge.

But wait, it gets worse. The Circle normally starts at 4:00 p.m., but there were still several unaccounted-for Hashers at that time, so we waited. And waited. I still had the walk back into town ahead of me, so I decided to leave shortly after five. As I departed, five of the missing Hashers arrived via trike. Yep, they had been lost but eventually found a way back down from the ridge. I didn’t see Gary and his wife (new enough to the Hash to be unnamed), but I assumed they had taken a trike, too, and decided to go home. So, I proceeded on my hike back to town and went to the after-Hash venue at IDM to await my fellow Hashers. I was enjoying my beers and telling jokes to the waitresses I was treating to lady drinks (that always makes my jokes funnier somehow) when I saw my phone had a “missed call” from a name I didn’t recognize. When I opened Messenger, I saw this:

John, it’s Gary. We are stuck up on the mountain. Can you call please.

Oh shit. It was after seven now and pitch black outside. And it was raining. Getting down from Kalaklan Ridge is challenging under the best circumstances. But being lost up there in the dark is the stuff of nightmares. I don’t hear well on the phone, so I went over to another Hasher, Demolition Derby, and asked him to help with the call to Gary. Derby had Gary describe his surroundings and guessed that he might be on or near the ridgeline road. It’s dirt and rugged but easier to hike than a trail, especially at night. There are also occasional shacks and people to maybe provide assistance. Thirty minutes later, Gary messaged that “all was okay now.” We called back, and they had found the ridgeline road and were making their way down to the highway. They still had a long way to go. It was after nine when he messaged that they had made it home. Scary shit. I hope I never have to experience being lost in the middle of nowhere when the sun goes down.

Here are the “Hash” photos I took during my journey on the Bitch.

And now you know the rest of the story. The sad thing was, by the time we learned we had lost Hashers, the rest of us were in no condition to attempt a rescue. That’s why it’s best to stick with a group that knows their way around whenever possible.

Eight years ago I had a drunken birthday at Shenanigans in Itaewon:

Today’s YouTube video is a brief update on the Philippines mayor who turned out to be a Chinese spy. It seems she has fled the country. Surprise, surprise.

And some quick humor (I have a party to attend to):

So, it’s my birthday and we are having a party at The Rite Spot. Except it is raining at the moment. Here’s hoping that ends soon. Swan and her family having been cooking up tons of food, mostly stuff I like (baby back ribs, chicken wings, etc). I’ve also got some chili brewing in the crockpot. I’ll give you a full report on the festivities tomorrow!

We came. We saw. We marked the trail. We sat on the ice. Just a typical day in the life of a Hare with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. I joined my counterparts (Pubic Head and Blow My Pipe) in laying the powder, paper, and chalk marks to guide our fellow Hashers on Run #1615. All who did the trail survived (as far as we know), and that is the primary indicator of success in my book. It was a short trail at a little under 5K but had a challenging climb up to Kalaklan Ridge and a steep down before ending at the On-Home held at Hasher Tung ‘n Gruve’s beachside residence. I didn’t receive any negative feedback on the trail, and a couple of Hashers were surprised that the fat old guy made that climb.

Yeah, about that. It was an ass-kicking up, but thankfully, it wasn’t a killer. Honestly, if I didn’t feel obligated to my fellow Hares, I would have turned around early and called it a day. I’m not sure what it is lately; I just don’t seem to have any energy or stamina. I fear it may be the vestiges of old age, and the only cure for that is one I’d prefer to avoid. We will see what the future brings. In the meantime, I’ll try and keep thinking positive thoughts, and hoping this too shall pass.

Another Hash in the books. It is always nice to live to tell about it.

Memories today include my kids enjoying life on the farm circa 1981:

Coincidentally, in today’s YouTube video, Reekay talks about the perils of dating crazy women. Now, Eun Oke’s craziness only manifested when she’d been drinking to excess, but sadly, that was pretty much all the time, at least when she was around me. I’d try to get her to slow down, but that would trigger an outburst. Finally, I had enough and walked away for good. For years afterward, even when I was living here in the PI, I’d get a video call on Messenger at three in the morning from my drunk ex. I eventually just stopped answering. Another example of there are worse things than being alone.

Today’s attempt at humor:

Not sure what’s on tap for the rest of my Tuesday, but it will likely involve some cold bottles of San Mig Zero. I’ll fill in the gaps tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy this clip from Deliverance. Who knew Joe Biden was such a talented banjo player back in the day?

I took a hybrid approach to yesterday’s Hash, taking the My Bitch trail from my house to the On-Home at the end of Rizal Extension, a tad over 3K. Pubic Head and Buddy Fucker also left from their houses, and we met up along the way at mountain mama Onelia’s place. In an unheard-of precedent, Vienna Sausage laid a trail that was only 2K in length, although it did feature a couple of hill climbs. We encountered several of the hard-core Hashers who had hiked the trail and then walked it again in reverse to get some more distance in. The last portion of my hike was the beginning of the “official” Hash trail, so technically, I did part of it at least. And my trail was longer, so there!

But I wasn’t done yet. I had a few beers at Tiny Cunt’s house (the On-Home venue) but departed just before the Hash circle began. I walked the 3K back into town and had dinner and some more beers at our traditional after-Hash hangout, It Doesn’t Matter. The other Hashers rolled in about an hour after my arrival. After drinking my fill, I popped into Myleen’s and grabbed a couple of slices of apple pie to share with Swan at home.

And that’s the way I rolled yesterday.

And speaking of memories, the Westminster Facebook group I belong to posted this old photo of our high school swimming pool.

A more recent memory was from seven years ago, when I took my nephews on a bar crawl in Anjeong-ri.

Today’s YouTube video recounts the vlogger’s experiences as a newbie in the Philippines. Some good advice is to bring in fresh hundred-dollar bills. Most exchanges will not accept old versions or any writing or other damage. I made that mistake the last time I brought in dollars, and I have several hundred that no one will take. You can also enjoy the street scenes of downtown Cebu during the narration.

Maybe these will make you smile:

For some reason, I thought of the Eddie Rabbitt song, Every Which Way But Loose, today. I enjoyed Rabbitt’s music back in the day, but I don’t think I ever purchased an album. I’d also forgotten that he died back in 1998. But he lives on through his music. Thanks for that, Eddie!  

No surprise that the weather was wet for yesterday’s Hash. And our Hash calendar dictates that we are “On-On” every Monday rain or shine. Yesterday was no exception to that rule. So, us Hares headed out to mark a rainy day trail at 11 a.m. We had two climbs. The first was mostly steps and paved. The second was up a dirt trail. I opted not to take that route; instead, I marked a street trail back to the On-Home venue at the One Three Resort. Both versions were just shy of five kilometers.

The rain varied in intensity throughout the day. I used shredded paper to mark the path and tried to find places to drop it where it wouldn’t wash away. Feedback from the Hashers was positive—the trail was easy to follow and a good one for a rainy day. That’s what this Hare wants to hear. I asked around and didn’t find anyone who said they had done the easy version I marked, but at least there was that option. Mission accomplished!

And that’s what our rainy day Hash looked like. We finished marking the trail just before one. The Hashers gathered at the starting location at two. The other Hares went to send them off, but I elected to just stay at the One Three Resort and wait for the group to arrive. The first of the runners appeared around three. So, I had a couple of extra hours to spend drinking beers. By the end of the Hash festivities, I was soaked in more ways than one. Coincidentally, Swan was visiting relatives a couple of doors away from the resort, and she joined me while I waited for the Hash to begin. Then, she returned afterward, and we rode home together in a trike—a nice finish to the day.

It rained all night and is still raining today. ‘Tis the season and all that. I’m still not longing for those scorching days of heat, but it is early yet. I might feel different come September.

In today’s YouTube video, Reekay offers three mistakes that will alienate you from the expat community. I don’t believe I’m guilty of any of them, and really, they don’t seem all that common or bothersome. I mean, it is pretty natural to be asked, “Where do you live?” I just give a generic “Alta Vista” response, and that’s no big deal. No one has ever tried to find me or just drop by without an invite. I’ve never dated anyone’s recent ex, and no one has dated one of mine that I know of. Again, I’m not sure why I should care. The borrowing money thing is situational. I think the expat community needs to stick together and help one another out in an emergency. But there’s a difference between asking for a medical treatment or paying a bar tab. Like I said, none of these have been a real issue during my six years as an expat in the PI.

The jokes are on me:

Come on back tomorrow!

…flat as a board. And you gotta have water to surf and that massive rain storm provided plenty.

I felt like shit all day yesterday, but when it was time to Hash, I headed out. I got maybe 100 yards from home and was out of breath (it is a very slight uphill). I almost turned around then and there but convinced myself to push on. A bit further up the road, I had to stop once more to catch my breath. Not good! I reached the point where the Hash trail intersected with my path and waited for the Hashers to arrive. I knew I wouldn’t be doing any climbing whatsoever, but I figured I’d tag along until the first up, then make my way to the On-Home (at Leech My Nuggets house in Alta Vista). About a kilometer later, I said goodbye to the group and began my solo flat trek. Not long afterward, the sky opened up, and I was drenched from head to toe. Yeah, it was as fun as it sounds. I was heading up Sawmill Road when a trike pulled over and offered me a ride. Well, I was going to catch one at the 7/11 anyway to avoid the uphill walk to Alta Vista, so why not? My trail was 3K or so all in.

I wasn’t feeling much better during the Hash Circle. When the rain let up about halfway through the festivities, I headed for home. And last night might have been my worst night ever. In addition to feeling weak and breathless, I developed a pain in my chest. Not sure what the fuck that’s all about, but I’m hoping what I’ve assumed to be lung issues isn’t heart-related instead. I think it might be acid reflux or something similar, but I don’t recall experiencing that before. I bought some meds for that this morning, but so far, the ache is still there, although it has moved down to my mid-section. Before going to bed last night, I gave Swan the contact info for my kids, just to be on the safe side. It freaked her out, though.

So, I have a lot to discuss with the pulmonary doctor today. I am going to the newly reopened hospital in Barretto, and hopefully, they have the facilities to perform any necessary tests to diagnose and correct whatever ails me. As is the case in most hospitals in the PI, there are no appointments– I have to show up and wait on a first-come, first-seen basis. We stopped in on the way to Royal this morning and signed up. The doctor is scheduled to arrive at 2:00 p.m., and I’ll be there at 1:30 waiting. Damn, I hope this goes well. I hate feeling like this, and I really miss my walkaholic life.

Not the best of days, and hopefully the worst is over.

It’s been interesting watching the left’s convulsions since the failed assassination attempt. All that unity talk lasted less than a day, and now Trump is a fascist again. Oh, and Vance will also participate in the destruction of democracy. Whatever. Pick a better candidate next time, Dems. Trump didn’t make America great again in his first term, but it was a lot better than it is now.

And even the ads I’m seeing on Facebook are changing.

Today’s YouTube video is a short but interesting account of a guy choosing the Philippines over the Scottish homeland that he loves. Yeah, you need to exercise moderation and self-control if you are going to adapt to the lifestyle here, but I would be very unhappy living in the USA.

Some humor before I go to the hospital:

Okay, my transport to the UltraCare facility will be arriving soon. I’d best get prepared. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Another Monday, another Hash. This week, some of the Gash were the Hares, and they laid a pretty nice trail that was well-marked and a little different. It wasn’t all that difficult, but I wound up shortcutting anyway. My “sane” group didn’t wait for me this week, which was disappointing but understandable. I’ve got so slow going uphill that it takes the fun out of hiking with me. Swan and some others were with me, so it’s not like I was alone on the trail. The problem was we got into an area that was unfamiliar to me, and it appeared there was a second climb in store, and I just didn’t have it in me. Since I didn’t know an alternative path, I retreated back to the highway and rejoined the trail down the road. My shortcut was longer distance-wise, but I assumed it was flatter. Turns out, what I perceived as a pending climb would have led me back down to the valley. Still, better safe than sorry.

After the Hash, Swan and I caught a trike to It Doesn’t Matter for the post-Hash gathering. Turns out, I might have had too much to drink. I’ll do better next time.

Speaking of drinking, Facebook carried me back thirteen long years ago to an Itaewon Friday night at Dolce Vita Pub.

Eight years ago, I was walking the shady back paths on Namsan in Seoul.

The looming war with China will be fought on many fronts. The Chinese have already infiltrated even the lowest branches of Filipino government. To what end, who knows? I’m sure the corruption agents can be dual purposed as military assets. And the same things is taking place back home in the USA as well. Shocking how many of the illegal border crossers are Chinese. Today’s YouTube video details some of what is happening here in the Philippines.

Gonna go for a walk on the raunchy side for today’s humor offering.

That’s all for now, folks.

It never seems to get easier, but I’m still in the fight. Barely. We did a pretty massive shortcut on the Hash trail yesterday, eliminating a climb to the top of Kalaklan Ridge. But the climb we did do was almost more than I could handle. Once again, I had a massive struggle in my head to overcome the urge to say “fuck it” and flatland it back to the On-Home. That was half the battle; the other half was actually getting to the top. It was slow going for me and almost painful, but I made it. I’m just not ready to give up the hills and the views you earn by climbing them yet. And to cut myself some slack, I’ll be sixty-nine next month. I reckon I’m blessed to still have the ability to get out there and try. The day will surely come when my get up and go has got up and gone, but until then, I’m going to keep on keeping on as best I can!

I walked the beach back to It Doesn’t Matter to partake in the after-Hash comradery. And stopped at Myleen’s before catching a trike home.

Facebook memories reminded me of a time when climbing came easier for me.

In today’s YouTube offering, Reekay speaks to the Filipino mortality culture. All Saints Day here is like something I’d never seen; families and loved ones pack the cemeteries to remember and honor the dearly departed. I’m pretty sure the dead don’t care, but it is another example of how family-centered this culture truly is.

Just cremate me and scatter my ashes on a Hash trail, thank you very much.

Humor time:

Tomorrow is another day, and I plan to be here then to tell you about this one. See you then!

Yesterday’s Hash trail was surprisingly short, around 4K. A little shorter for me because I didn’t start at the VFW but met the Hashers as they passed through Alta Vista. The route we took featured one moderate hill climb. No hill is easy for me these days, and I was huffing and puffing all the way up. But it wasn’t that long or that steep, and I made it to the top alive. The On-Home venue was at a private “farm” just past the end of Rizal Extension. We’d hike through there regularly a couple of years back, but it’s been fenced off and posted “No Trespassing” for quite a while now. It was nicer than I expected, kicking back and enjoying the peaceful setting. However, I didn’t stay to participate in the Hash Circle, opting to head down the mountain while there was daylight, and I was relatively sober. Many of my fellow Hashers joined me for after-Hash refreshments at It Doesn’t Matter. I had considered skipping this week’s adventure, but I’m glad I joined the hike.

Now, for a stroll down memory lane:

It’s election season, so forgive my injection of politics:

Today’s YouTube video has a vlogger talking about the practicalities of the rainy season in the Philippines. I’m enjoying it compared to the heat so far.

And let’s see if I can tickle your funny bone today:

That’s all she, I mean, he wrote. But I shall return tomorrow.

Remember that story about the little engine that could the fat old man who could? Well, by golly, I successfully completed yesterday’s Hash trail. Granted, it was the short trail, but it was still plenty challenging. The big up for us shorties came at the end, and it was an ass-kicker for me. I was able to overcome the urge to bail largely because there was nowhere to bail- climbing that hill was the only way back to the On-Home. Head down, one step at a time, and puffing out, “I think I can” got me to the top. Finishing felt a lot better than I did after I wussed out last week, that’s for sure.

And that’s the lowdown on this week’s Hash.

In the memory category, I’ve got some “through the years” photographs to share from Facebook. My son had posted these for Father’s Day.

In today’s YouTube feature, Reekay talks about the best the Philippines has to offer. I’m glad to be here to partake.

And we will finish up this post with some humor:

Anyway, Swan and I are doing the foot spa thing this afternoon, and we’ll see what comes about after that. I reckon you’ll read all about it here tomorrow.

One of the benefits of being a Hare is you have the power to dictate the trail your fellow Hashers will follow. At least in theory. Guys like me tend to shortcut or change course as the mood dictates. And even though I was technically one of three Hares yesterday, I was mostly along to help lay down the powder and chalk. Pubic Head and Blow My Pipe already had the trail in mind, and I didn’t contribute anything to the planned course of action. Well, near the end, I took a detour, but that’s just my style.

Our trail was just a tad over 5K but featured two climbs. The first one was a butt-kicker, and the second one, coming late in the hike, wasn’t easy either. The feedback I got from a couple of die-hard Hashers was surprise–they didn’t expect such a challenging trail from the likes of me. Not that I had much to do with it.

Sometimes, the people you encounter along the way are the highlight of the trail. I had cookies and lollipops on hand to brighten their day a tad.

The trail was marked and ready for the Hashers. Pubic Head met them at the Barretto High School starting point and provided last-minute guidance.

I went home, blogged, napped, and showered, then headed back to Subiza for the Hash Circle.

And that was that. I stopped by Snackbar for another beer before catching a trike back home. Not a bad day to be a Hasher, if I do say so myself.

If I lived in condo I would never take the elevator. Facebook memories reminded me why:

Today’s YouTube video is a little different–not from a vlogger I subscribe to. I came across it while doing my usual ‘netsurfing and found it interesting. It deals with the lifestyle of the native Aeta people here in the Philippines. I’ve been involved in several charity outreaches in local villages here, and the Aeta are always gracious, warm, and welcoming. Having said that, I almost never see them integrating into Filipino society. I don’t think it is discrimination; I think it is a choice. A fascinating culture.

To the humor, then:

That’s all he wrote. For today, anyway.

Another Monday, another “run” with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. I modified yesterday’s trail to suit my purposes, but distance-wise, it was the same length as the Hare’s short version (5K). The Hash trail traversed a good portion of My Bitch, so rather than start at the VFW in town, I left from my house and met up with my regular group at Mountain Mama Onelia’s place and continued on with them from there. It was more challenging than what I did in Angeles on Sunday, but not overly difficult. It was hot again, though.

A couple of after-Hash beers, then some takeout from Sit-n-Bull, and my day was done.

In the memory category, I’m reminded that today marks thirteen years since my father passed away. I marked that occasion in a post called “Finished With Engines.”

I’m getting over 57 pesos to the dollar these days, the best it’s been since I moved here. Of course, prices keep going up for many of the things I purchase, but it could be worse. I’d be screwed if my pension were paid in pesos. And I guess it makes things even tougher for the economically challenged Filipinos.

Today’s attempts at humor:

No more Tuesday on the floating bar, but we will try Kokomo’s Tiki Bar and take in the views from there. I’ll share that adventure here tomorrow.

I came, I walked. I lived. Mission accomplished! It was another hot day on the trail, and our “sane” group opted to bypass the three hill climbs the Hare had included. We still walked a tad over 6K, and that was plenty for my tired old lungs. There was an incline on the road near the end, and I needed to pause halfway up to catch my breath. Other than that, the hike went fine.

Unfortunately, there was some controversy at the Hash Circle. One of our On-Home venues overcharged the Hash to the tune of fifty beers. So, naturally, we crossed them off the list for future visits. Word got back to the owner that folks were talking about the ripoff, and he went livid, issuing threats of physical violence to members of the Hash. The Grand Master told the gathered Hashers about the threats, and one Hasher got very upset and said this was all an overreaction and blamed the Hash leaders for not handling the situation more discretely. Fine, he is welcome to that opinion, but he wouldn’t let it go and continued to rant and rave at the Grand Master. The Grand Master finally ordered him to leave. I don’t know if that means he has been permanently banned from the Hash or not. The venue owner in question did post an apology for the threats to the Hash Facebook page today.

After that incident, my buzz was pretty much chilled, so I left right away when the Circle was over. My neighbor had invited me to join him and some friends when I was finished with the Hash, so that’s what I did. It turned out to be an enjoyable gathering, and I’ll be reciprocating this Thursday at The Rite Spot.

And that’s the story of my day.

Down on Facebook’s memory lane, I posted this eleven years ago:

Four years ago, I was railing against the scamdemic with posts like these:

Here is a short two-minute video about China’s latest provocation against the Filipino people:

Okay, gonna go with some off-color humor today. Sorry in advance:

And now we are done. I’ll be back, just wait and see.

…and hope I never do again!

Okay, when the Hare is Vienna Sausage, I know I’m in for an ass-kicker. He didn’t disappoint in that regard yesterday. Still, I missed the opportunity to shortcut, so that’s on me. Had I known what lay ahead, I would have been more mindful of my situation and avoided the worst part of the trail. Oh well, lesson learned.

I knew in advance we would be climbing to the Kalaklan Ridge, starting from the end of Rizal Extension. I’m up for the challenge of one good climb at the beginning of the trail, and this one was every bit as hard as I anticipated. The hot weather added a couple of exclamation points to the effort, but we got it done. Once on the ridge, the “short” trail followed the ridgeline road, which is mostly flat and shady. The surprise came at the end, when I was thinking we’d be heading back down but instead had to endure another climb. Once that was done, the down was steep and slippery most of the way. All in, it took me three hours to reach the On-Home on a 7K hike. That’s twice as long as normal for me. I was exhausted and thirsty (despite drinking two bottles of water on the trail) when finished, and oh, did those San Mig Zeros feel good going down.

As long as it took me to complete the trail, I wasn’t the last to make it back. In fact, two Hashers, including the Grand Marshall, didn’t return until the Hash circle was over. They’d gone back to look for another Hasher but never found him (he’d taken a wrong turn but found his way back an hour before they did). The former GM ran the circle, but it was just a bizarre ending to the day. Vienna Sausage came and asked me what had gone wrong with his trail, because he thought it was easy compared to others he’s done. I told him the hill climb at the end had wiped out the group I was with, and had I known, I would have taken an alternate path down. Again, it was not the Hare’s fault; it was mine for not using better judgment. I’ll try not to make that mistake again.

Anyway, I lived to tell about it, so there’s that. Now, it is just another memory.

Speaking of memories, Facebook took me down that road today:

And on to the Quora Q&A:

Q: Is the Japanese occupation of Korea and China still a sensitive topic in South Korea and China?

A: I can only speak to Koreans. I had two different girlfriends who got triggered by the smallest Japan-related issues. What the world calls the Sea of Japan is known as the East Ocean in Korea. Call it the Sea of Japan at your peril, as I learned firsthand from GF #1.

My favorite story from GF #2 was while we were eating at an outdoor street restaurant with a community table. Now, this girl had never gotten over the occupation that occurred before she was born and disliked all things Japan. So, as we were eating (and drinking soju), I noticed her angry face and glares being directed at a young woman a couple of seats down from us. Finally, she says to her, “You are in Korea; why are you speaking Japanese?” The woman was visibly taken aback and responded: “um, because I am Japanese.” Thankfully, my GF let it go at that point.

And NEVER EVER call Dokdo island Takeshima!

I’ve never heard any Filipinos talk shit about the Japanese invasion in 1941. I guess they have bigger things to worry about–like China. And actually, the Japanese have funded several large infrastructure projects here, perhaps in part to say “sorry about that.”

Today’s poor attempts at humor:

Well, technically, it is the sun that browns, but doing the Hash in this fucking heat certainly helps to darken the skin.

So, naturally, I did the short trail yesterday, hoofing it from the VFW to the On-Home at Tiny Cunt’s house at the end of Rizal Extension. That was blissfully only 3+K, but it did feature two moderately long climbs. My walking fun wasn’t done yet, though. I had a few beers after the hike and before the Hash Circle commenced, then departed and walked the 3K to It Doesn’t Matter. At least it was all downhill. I’d rather walk (mostly) sober in daylight than try to find a way back to town in the dark. Anyway, another Hash I lived to tell about, so here goes:

After a few more beers at IDM, I was ready to call it a day. Swan had been taking care of some business in town, and she had her trike driver swing by and pick me up. I skipped dinner, had a smoothie, and hit the sack at 8 p.m. I earned it!

I’ll be one of the Hares next week, so you know it’s gonna be a good one. We’ll see if the Kennel agrees.

A nice stroll down memory lane today courtesy of Facebook:

This is not my memory, but it did give me a chuckle:

Okay, let’s do the Quora Q&A thing:

Q: What is the most inexpensive way my family can deal with me in the event of my death? Is it free to donate my body to science and hold no funeral, no casket, if I’d rather they don’t spend money on my corpse?

A: That’s exactly what my father wanted and did. The medical university that received his donated body took care of all the arrangements, like picking up his remains from the hospital where he died. Several months later, I got a notice that they were finished with him, and I was asked to pick up a cardboard box containing his ashes. Later, my brothers and I poured them into the river in his hometown, and that was that.

Dad always lived life on his terms.

Let’s try to lighten things up a tad:

Alright, that’s all for now. Nothing special going on today, but I’ll write about it anyway tomorrow.

Well, in normal Hash parlance, HHH stands for Hash House Harriers. But yesterday was Hashing Hard and Hot. Yes, it is the Philippines, and a tropical climate is expected. But even folks who have lived here for decades are complaining about the recent heat wave we’ve been experiencing. Hurry up and get here rainy season!

The Hare for yesterday’s trail, Vienna Sausage, is notorious for the difficulty of his trails. Our “sane” group of Hashers opted to take a different route up to the Kalaklan Ridge than the one the Hare chose. It may have been easier, but it was by no means easy. We did intersect with the actual Hash trail near the end of our climb, but by then, I was totally whacked out. So, four others and I took a shortcut back down to Barretto. It was definitely the right call for me. Even when I was back on flat ground for the walk to the On-Home, each step was tortuous. I had to resist the voice in my head telling me to catch a trike. I don’t mind shortcutting a trail, but by golly, I’m going to arrive at the end on my feet. Or die trying.

And then a sad Facebook memory:

Quora Q&A time:

Q: Joe’s Great Granddad owed my Great Grandad $100. Can I sue Joe for the money?

A: Yes, you are entitled to reparations for the sins of Joe’s great-grandad.

I hope the sarcasm came through.

Humor me this:

So, back to Dr. Jo this afternoon for what she calls “a crucifixion.” I’m getting the last of my stem cell injections that involve multiple painful needle jabs into my back. I also sent her a link to this post on Kevin’s blog and asked for her thoughts. Not sure she’ll have a chance to read it before my appointment, but I’ll share whatever insights she may have.

Another week, another journey up to the Kalaklan Ridge. I’ve taken the path to the top the Harriettes chose a couple of times previously, but damn, yesterday was a lot harder than I remembered. Might have had something to do with the heat. Once we were on the ridgeline path, I opted out of doing another down and up, choosing instead to carry on my way until I rejoined the trail for the steep down to Barretto. Even with the shortcuts, my path was 6+K, although I counted the 2K I walked from my house to the start in that total. Here are some photos from yesterday’s Hash:

Speaking of which, my friend Kevin Kim, a frequent reader and commenter here at LTG, reports he has been hospitalized in Seoul. Best wishes for a speedy recovery, Kevin.

Just in case anyone missed the Eclips yesterday, I found this picture for your viewing pleasure:

And now for that Quora Q&A thing:

Q: Have you ever been treated differently because of the car you were driving?

A: Back in the early 1970s, I was a recent high school graduate living in Orange County, California. My high school sweetheart had moved to San Diego. I’d go down to see her a couple of times a month. There was an immigration checkpoint in San Onofre, and every time I’d get stopped for a search. I was a long-haired hippie type back then, and I figured I was being singled out because of the way I looked. One day, in frustration, I confronted the immigration officer and said you are harassing me because of the way I look, right? He laughed and said, “No, it’s your car. It fits the smuggler’s profile.” Who knew a ’64 Chevy Impala was so popular for bringing in folks from Mexico? Well, it did have a big trunk.

Yeah, back in those days, our nation actually defended its borders.

What’s so funny?

Okay then, time to get ready for my visit with Dr. Jo. Back tomorrow with a full report.