I’m still here. So far. I hope the transition to the new host goes smoothly.

I don’t much care for the Hare for yesterday’s trail. It was a hotter than usual afternoon. The trail started halfway up Rizal Extension, which made it a pain in the ass to get to for me. Which is why I said fuck it and made my own trail. Actually, I met up with Scott, whose healing ankle wasn’t up for a mountain climb, and did a street walk with him. At the end of our hike, we had a late lunch/early dinner at Sit-n-Bull.

After our meal, we walked up the street to the VFW for the Hash circle. I got called out for a Hash crash and was required to sit on the ice for my non-Hash-related drunken tumble on Friday night. That’s okay.

After the Hash circle, I joined the group at It Doesn’t Matter for some more beers. I was mindful of my inebriation level and departed prior to reaching the danger zone. It feels good to be back in control!

Hopefully, it will be a more normal Hash adventure next week with pictures and everything.

(With apologies to ZZ Top)

Hash shirt, hiking shoes
But I don't know where I'm goin' to
Fresh powder, bright chalk
And now I know where to walk

Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy about a well-marked trail

Steep hills, thick grass
But I ain't losin' my ass
Checkpoints, creek beds
But I'll keep movin' ahead

Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy 'bout a well-marked trail

Commenter Kevin asked for a post showing how a Hash trail is marked, so I will attempt to do so using yesterday’s trail as an example of a well-marked trail. The trail itself was overall the easiest I’ve done in recent memory. I forgot to turn on my tracker, but the Hare said the short trail was 4K. I finished in just over an hour, so I doubt it was actually that long.

The climb I did was of average difficulty and length, but damn, my poor old lungs were making me wonder if my days in the hills are numbered. I had to pause a couple of times to use my inhaler, but I finally made it to the top. After that, it was clear sailing without any issues. In fact, I was surprised to find myself at the proverbial end of the trail much sooner than I expected.

Let’s do it again through pictures, shall we?

So, you have the powder on the ground, which indicates you are on the trail. The chalk arrow points in the direction you should go, and the “1” confirms the marking is for the day’s trail, #1541. That’s important because we often encounter marks from previous Hashes, and without a number, you may follow an old trail. The circle with the “x” is a checkpoint. Some Hares will place a checkpoint when there is an intersection of trails. This requires the Hashers to explore the various options until they find the right path. If they come to the three lines, it means On-Back; you are on the wrong trail. You know you are on the right trail when you find a chalk or powder marker, which indicates you are “On-On!” I personally despise checkpoints and never incorporate them into my trails as a Hare.

After the Hash, I had some more beer at Sloppy Joe’s. I even bought Jamaica a lady drink. When I was walking back towards my end of town in search of a nightcap, I heard Jenn calling out to me from across the highway at Whiskey Girl. So, I got to finish the day with some cuddling. That’s always nice!

Here’s the original version of the song I re-wrote for this blog post:

Feedback from yesterday’s trail was mostly positive, although we could have done better marking in a couple of places where the path was unclear. Hey, nobody’s perfect! I’ll share the pictures that others took along with a few from me taken while laying the powder.

My co-Hare and I did some scouting yesterday and pretty much finalized our trail for Monday’s Hash. We’ll go back out in the morning and put chalk on the trees and powder on the ground for the Kennel to follow.

That’s the trail; you can Relive the scouting adventure here:

Now, about my Friday night. I did decide to skip the SOB. Back in the old days (pre-scamdemic), I only attended the SOB once a month or so. When the SOB resumed last year, I went every week as a show of support and appreciation to the sponsoring bars. Lately, they have had more attendees than they can accommodate, so I can take a break and give my seat to someone else to watch the show.

I started out at Cheap Charlies, where I enjoyed some facetime with Nerissa. She’s definitely not the typical bargirl type, at least not yet. I need to decide if I want to take the next step toward a potential relationship. As with Mary, I’m just not sure I want to give up my freedom from drama and my ability to do as I please. I know some positives come with having a girlfriend, too, but damn, why risk it?

After I left Cheap Charlies, I was feeling a little hungry. Running through the options as I walked down the highway, I decided to pay Thumbstar a visit. It’s rare for me to patronize this venue for various reasons, but their shwarma shop was enough motivation to overcome them. Plus, a girl I met at Queen Victoria several months ago messaged me that she was working there now, so it seemed appropriate to pay her a visit too.

It was weird being in Thumbstar on a Friday night during the SOB. Thumbstar briefly was a participating bar in the SOB, but because of some disagreement over something, pulled out. And now Thumbstar’s management is engaging in a Bar Wars tactic–a competing event on Fridays they call the SOP. It’s ridiculous and, frankly, one of the reasons I don’t visit this bar very often, but by chance, here I was, experiencing my first-ever SOP. It’s nothing like the real thing, though. No dance competition, just the regular Thumbstar crew.

When I arrived, I saw Che, the former Queen Vic waitress, on stage dancing. So, I called her down to join me. She tried to order a bottled beer double lady drink for a whopping 350 pesos, but I put a stop to that, and she settled for a more reasonably priced single drink. I did buy her two (or maybe more), so it’s not so much the money as it is the principle. My waitress had difficulty understanding my drink order (a shot of gin in a tall glass and a can of soda water on the side). Seems simple to me, but it was confusing to her, and I admit I got a little frustrated and cranky with her. Felt wrong about being a grumpy old man, so I bought her a drink too.

The best part of the SOP is that drinks AND food are all buy one get one free. So, I got two chicken shwarmas for the price of one. Che wanted chicken, so the second order went to our waitress. The waitress wanted fries, so we shared those as well. The way I drink, every order is a double–the shot of gin and the can of soda. So, last night at least I could get my soda water for free.

And in a first for me, the waitress picked up my phone from the table and took a selfie without being asked (or asking permission). I didn’t care, of course, but joked that my wife would be very angry when she saw it. That made her nervous until I explained I was kidding.

And then a two-week millionaire (the name we expats use for free-spending tourists) came in and called most of the dancers down from the stage to join him at his table. I snuck a picture of his bounty and their booties.

I have to admit; I had a better time at Thumbstar than I expected I would. I decided to make Queen Victoria my nightcap destination, and I appeared to be the only customer in the bar. No idea how they stay in business, especially when they were paying a live band to perform with no audience. Anyway, I was joined at the bar by two friendly waitresses, and I enjoyed sharing a drink with them to end my night on the town.

And now it seems I have a dinner date with Mary tonight. There’s just no telling that girl no.

Oh, I almost forgot. I came across this post of mine from 2009, back in the days this blog has some substance. I found it especially interesting given what’s been going of late with the media covering up the sins of our government rather than reporting them to the people. Our founders believe a free press was the “fourth estate” that would help preserve our freedoms. Instead, they are facilitating their destruction.

Half a trail is better than none, I suppose. And while I avoided a couple of hills, my trail, including the distance gained when I walked to the start from my house, was a respectable 8K.

When the Hash was over, I walked back to Barretto and stopped at Snackbar for my nightcap. It was nice to visit with one of my old favorites there, Heidee, again. During our conversation, she asked me how my girlfriend was doing. I was surprised and told her I didn’t have a girlfriend, then asked what made her think I did. Heidee said to me that Lydell and another Snackbar waitress saw a girl on the Jeepney, and she had a keychain with my picture on it.

A friend had gifted me several of those key chains, and I gave them away to some young women I know. I’m unsure who it was on the Jeepney, but she wasn’t my girlfriend. This is just another example of how everyone *thinks* they know your business in this little town. Kinda scary, in a way.

This provides a good segway to me telling about some edits to yesterday’s post. I had revealed some private and personal information about someone I know, and a regular reader commented that I was wrong to do so. When I took a step back and looked at it again, I realized he was right to call me out on it. It was not my intention to cause anyone pain or shame, but if the information that I shared came back to her, she would likely be devastated. No excuses; I just wasn’t thinking about the potential repercussions. I appreciate that thanks to this reader, I was able to make the edits shortly after publishing the post, and hopefully, no damage was done.

I tend to forget that this blog isn’t a personal diary and that what I share has a potentially larger audience than I imagine. Perhaps some with bad intentions. Like that Dick who tried to use my sketchy history with love (i.e., four marriages) to undermine my relationship with a woman I cared about. You’d think I’d have learned by now.

Anyway, I’ll try and do better in the future. I have taken to changing the names of some of the people I write about here. Going forward, I’ll keep in mind that some things may be best left unsaid. But don’t worry, dear readers; I’m quite sure that I’ll continue to serve as a bad example.

Yesterday’s Hash trail proved to be quite the challenge. A long hard climb to the top of Kalaklan ridge, and then stroll on the ridgeline before descending back down to Barretto and the On-Home at the VFW. My tracker says it was a 7.7K journey, and that was on the SHORT trail.

Anyway, despite the difficulty, it was nice to be up on the ridgeline again. I was recently looking up at Kalaklan from my barstool at Cheap Charlies and missing the views from up there, so it was good to see them again. There are no really easy ways to get up there, but the one taken was at the higher end of the difficulty scale. My poor nephew Josh wasn’t in condition for such a challenging hike, and I was worried about him completing the journey safely. Luckily, he made it back down. Once we were on the street again, I asked if he wanted to trike back to the VFW, but he insisted on completing the trail with the rest of us.

Some after Hash beverages at It Doesn’t Matter, then home for some well-earned sleep.

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

And now my masseuse has just arrived. Time to enjoy some Valentine’s Day comfort.

Camp John Hay, that is. This is the second time I’ve had the pleasure of hiking through the forested trails on this former U.S. military installation. The path we took on the short route (6.5K) had its ups and downs, but no exhaustingly long climbs. And the lungs didn’t give me any trouble during the hike. Thanks to the La Union Hash House Harriers for the invite and for providing everyone with a Hashy good time.

After dinner, the Subic group gathered at the small bar back at The Log Cabin hotel.

Made the long drive home after breakfast, and I’m a bit exhausted, but it is Sunday, and that means there are hungry girls at Hideaway to feed. And I’m sure they will be expecting some pasalubong from Baguio.

Oh, here are a couple of shots I took on the drive down the mountain looking back at Baguio:

Time for me to get on with it, then. Back tomorrow with more of the inanity you’ve come to expect from me!

It’s strange sometimes how your mind takes you to places you never thought you’d go. I took one of those little side trips this morning, and it turned out to be kinda fun. I’ve already forgotten what the Quora question being answered was, but the response included a reference to Paul Newman playing the banjo in a scene from the movie Cool Hand Luke. Wow, I hadn’t thought of that film in years, but it has always been one of my favorites. Recalling that scene of Newman with the banjo got me trying to think of what the song was that he was singing. I knew I really liked it, but I was drawing a blank. So the search was on. And with the help of Duckduckgo (fuck you, Google!) I found it:

Here in the real world, yesterday’s Hash seemed to go well. There were many positive comments about the trail from the Hashers, and no one got lost or injured. For some inexplicable reason, three of the girls voluntarily took the long trail and were the last ones to reach our On-Home at Johansson’s. I was worried about them and relieved when they finally showed up.

Sorry, I haven’t seen anyone posting pictures from the trail, so that’s all I have for now.

While the Hashers were out, I went to the Outback pool bar to check on Josh. He was ensconced on a beach-view stool and tapped into the wifi, working on a course assignment for his Masters in Divinity he is completing online. Josh had asked me earlier where he could buy some shorts, and I suggested he take a trike to Divimart, a few blocks up the road from his room. He was wearing shorts, so I was glad to see they had his size. I asked how he liked his first trike ride, and he said it was pretty cramped and uncomfortable. Then he told me the driver had charged him 300 pesos. What? That’s a 50 peso ride at most, even with the “skin tax” (a Filipino wouldn’t pay more than 20P for such a short trip). I felt bad that he had gotten scammed on his first day in town, but he really should have known better.

Josh is trying to get back in shape after being laid up for months with a severely broken leg. He walks with a limp now and has this massive bump on his hip that will require surgery to remove. He did okay on the Baloy hike, but no way he could do some of those trails up in the hills. Still, he is lucky to even be alive after getting run over by a truck while riding his motorcycle.

The On-Home was where Josh is staying, and I invited him to watch the circle proceedings (he’d have to buy his beer from the bar, though). He seemed to enjoy the spectacle, especially some of the Hash songs. We’ll see if he wants to participate in the Hash rituals sometime during his visit.

I was feeling tired at the conclusion of the Hash (the Angeles trip had interrupted my sleeping hours), so I went home directly after we finished the free beer portion of the circle, and I was in bed by 7:30. That might be a new record for this oldtimer. Josh was already “home” and hung out with a couple of the female Hashers, Trouble Cumming and Black And Dick Her.

Today is Joy’s birthday, and I’ll be doing a special feeding at Hideaway bar in her honor. I invited Josh to join the festivities, gave him directions, and told him no more than 50 pesos for the ride. We’ll see how that works out.

Full report tomorrow.

It’s Hash Monday, but since I’m a Hare, I have already made the trail. I’ll meet the group at the VFW starting point, offer guidance, and send them on their way.

I hope everyone enjoys the trail. Nothing all that new to see and not particularly challenging for most folks, but it’s still a pleasant hike.

The Hideaway feeding went well last night. I had several dishes from the Jewel restaurant delivered, and the girls devoured the feast in record time. My cornbread also seemed quite popular.

I had a few and bought a few, as usual. I got home and set my alarm for 12:30 in anticipation of my driver’s 1 a.m. arrival. I woke up a little after one to pee and had an “oh shit!” moment when I remembered where I was supposed to be. I’m not sure what happened, but my phone was lying on the floor, and the alarm had been turned off. Next time I will keep my phone out of arm’s reach.

Anyway, we arrived at the airport just as passengers were beginning to exit the terminal. We were loaded up in the car within ten minutes and headed home to Barretto.

I took Josh for a walk on Baloy Beach this morning and followed up with lunch at Sit-n-Bull.

That’s it for now. More about today, tomorrow.

I survived another Hash. The way my tired old lungs were screaming during the climb, I started imagining the day when I just collapse, gasping on the trail. I did fine on the flat ground, though.

What made it all the more challenging is that in a “let’s go, Brandon” moment, I forgot to bring my trekking pole with me when I left home. I’ve really come to rely on that tool for balance and stability when I hike on uneven ground. I missed it most on the steep descent because the stick acts as a brake to my gravity-induced forward momentum. I didn’t fall, though, so I’m thankful for that.

We started the hike in Calapadayan, and I walked to the trailhead. I was somewhat regretting that when my lungs were poofed out early on. Nice trail of about 6K (plus another 3.5 for me). There was a second climb at Black Rock that I avoided. I might have tried it with my pole, but not worth the risk without it.

As usual, many of us made our way to It Doesn’t Matter at the conclusion of the Hash circle activities. And that’s where the fun ended for the night. And so does this post.

Not much to say about yesterday’s Hash trail because I didn’t do much of it. The meetup was at Columban College (near Barretto High School, where the Friday group gathered last week), and so once again, I opted to take the shorter route through the hills to get there instead of doing a long-ass street walk or using a trike. I’m still uncomfortable being unaccompanied in the wild, but as a commenter here pointed out, there is danger in everything, so just man up and do it. I’m paraphrasing, but with the exercise of prudence and diligence, it is not inherently unsafe to hike alone.

Anyway, shortly after leaving the house, I realized that I had neglected to use my nebulizer before departing, as is my custom. My lungs ain’t what they used to be, and even a minor climb will often leave me feeling breathless. Well, shit. I didn’t have enough time to return home and still make it to the start, so I just pushed on. I always carry an inhaler in my pocket, so I took a couple of squirts from that and hoped for the best. Turns out Columban is exactly 1.25K from my house, and the one climb involved wasn’t a killer. So far, so good.

I headed out with the Hash group and went as far as the beginning of the first climb. I’d done it before, and it was not all that tough, but a voice in my head said, “are you sure you want to do this?” It turns out the answer was no. I told my fellow back-of-the-pack Hashers that I was going to keep it flat and I’d see them at the On-Home. I did around 5K before arriving at the Hare’s beer stop at McCoy’s on Baloy Beach. The Hare had arranged for a short banka boat bay tour, which was a nice break from the norm, although I declined to participate in that event as well (I didn’t want to wade out to the boat or take my shoes off). Yeah, I guess I was just in a lazy mood. I had a couple of beers at McCoy’s, then walked up the bach to Da’Kudos, this week’s Hash venue.

I didn’t take many photos, but here are some from others who did:

I guess it is no real surprise that there are a few assholes in our group. And yes, I recognize that some of my fellow Hashers may consider me to be one. But generally, I don’t engage or interact with the jerks. Still, I encountered two at IDM last night. No big deal, I can handle it, even if I don’t much care to have my buzz killed by self-important losers like those two.

And on that note, I think it may be time for me to take a break. I’m leaning toward not Hashing next week at all. Maybe a little distance will improve my perspective.

From the beaches, to the mountains
On the highways filled with cars
God bless the Subic Hash
Where we walk so far...

Okay, it needs a little work, but it just came to me as I sat down to write this post. Sue me.

Yesterday was a nice mix of terrain and paths that we have not recently walked. The beach was packed with more locals than I recall seeing enjoying the sea and sand, but the New Year’s holiday wasn’t quite over (a three-day weekend). The climb up Kalaklan was a killer, or it could have been the way I was breathing, but here I am to tell the tale. The trail started and ended at It Doesn’t Matter. I limited myself to one beefy taco, and it was surprisingly good for pub fare. The Hash is my cheat day for beer, and I took full advantage, sticking around for a few more when the circle was done.

And that was the ups and downs of yesterday’s Hash.

I’m trying to up my daily step count as I fight the battle of the bulge. In that regard, I have lengthened my dog walk routes some. I also took a morning stroll through the neighborhood.

I also enjoyed taking a peak into the future from various perspectives.

That’s how I spent my sloppy seconds. It just keeps getting better and better.

The annual Hash Candy Run was a success, with a huge turnout of Hashers spreading joy in the form of sweet treats for the children in the neighborhoods we marched through. I brought more candy than I could carry (I literally had to transfer some to my backpack), and I still ran out before reaching our On-Home destination at Smoke and Bottles. I don’t think a country where the women love sex as much as they hate birth control will ever suffer from a population decline. At least once a year, some of those poor kiddies get some sweets to eat. A little bit better than nothing at all, and it’s nice to be out there being a part of it.

It was a sweet day for the kids we saw, and I’m glad we could spread some joy. Got a big community outreach with some native folks in Olongapo tomorrow. Looking forward to that as well.

Look for a full report on that event soon!

I saw Taj Mahal live at a small club in Huntington Beach, California, called “The Golden Bear” in the mid-70s. That “Candy is Dandy” line is from one of his songs: Ain’t Nobody’s Business. Classic!

How wonderful was yesterday’s Hash trail? Well, it inspired me to steal write a song:

All alone at the end of the Hash trail
When the hiking is replaced by brews
I was thinking 'bout a pathway I love to take
But I seldom use

You know I've always been a hiker
(Spent my life walking 'round)
And it's so hard to change
(Can't seem to just sit down)
But the hikes I've seen lately
Keep on turning out and churning out
And climbing out the same

So put me on a Hash run
And let me follow the signs
And take it to the ridgeline one more time

Yeah, I won’t quit my day job. Even though I don’t have one.

A couple of weeks ago, while I was sipping a cold one at BarCelona and looking out at Kalaklan Ridge, I got to thinking about how long it had been since I’d last hiked up there. So, when I heard from 18 Kilo Ass (who Hared along with Leech My Nuggets) that we’d be doing the ridgeline, I was glad, even though I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy trek.

The up, as expected, was challenging, but I’ve had worse climbs to the ridge. Once we reached the top, Leech and 18 Kilo did a down trail, but my group didn’t fall for that ruse (you go down and then do ANOTHER climb back to the ridge); instead, we continued walking the line knowing our path would once again cross the Hare’s trail further on. And then, I encountered a dilemma. There was a visiting Hasher in our group, and he was slow and ill-equipped to handle a Leech level of difficulty. The first climb had kicked his ass to the point where even walking the relatively easy ridgeline required him to rest frequently. Now, unlike our Wednesday/Friday hikes where we stay together, a Hash is more of an individual endeavor. So, no matter how fast or slow you might be, you can just follow the trail markings to find your way. Except since we had shortcutted to avoid that first down, we weren’t on the Hash trail, and there we no marks to follow. Experienced local Hashers know ways to get back to the On-Home, whether the trail is marked or not. This new guy wouldn’t have a clue and so leaving him behind was really not an option. On the other hand, standing around waiting for him constantly was really killing the joy of my hike. So, Pubic Head and Buddy Fucker stayed behind to wait on the slowpoke (and if I’m calling someone that, you know they must be like molasses), and I moved on alone.

Now, I knew where I was and pretty much knew how to get where I was going, but I’m never really that comfortable hiking alone up in the hills. Too much can go wrong in a “one false step, and you are in a world of hurt” kind of way. That’s why I like the Hash and group hikes; otherwise, I’m pretty much confined to the streets. So, when I came to a path I was familiar with and knew it was not overly difficult, I decided to forego the reunion with the Hash trail and just make my own way back to Barretto. And then, about fifteen minutes later, lo and behold, my path intersected with the Hare’s trail. Crazy coincidence and I wasn’t going to challenge fate, so I followed the well-marked path of the Hares. I’d never gone that way before, and it featured a climb and a couple of rough spots, but I kept my eyes wide open and hiked as safely as possible. Before too long, I ran into a group of non-shortcutting Hashers, and my lonely vigil was over.

I got a little chuckle later in the hike as we did the final down into Barretto–Pubic Head and the new slow guy were actually AHEAD of me on the trail! A masterful job of shortcutting, to be sure!

To the pictures then:

Here’s the way to Relive the hike if you so desire:

And now for the rest of that song:

You can spend all your time walking backroads
You can spend all your hikes wasting time
If you fell down that ravine tomorrow
Would you still be fine?

And when you're looking for the chalk marks
(Nobody seems to care)
And you can't find the trail
(Can't find it anywhere)
When there's nothing that's worth seein'
Still you're coming back, you're running back
You're coming back for more

So put me on a Hash run
And let me follow the signs
And take it to ridgeline one more time

And it goes without saying that I offer my sincerest apologies to the Eagles.

It was a pretty nice Hash trail yesterday, up until it wasn’t. Longish at 8K, but the only significant climb wasn’t all that bad. Part of the down was through a creekbed, but the stones let you stay above the water. In fact, things didn’t go wrong for me until we were back down in the valley. I’d written about a Wednesday hike a couple of weeks ago where trying to avoid the flooded road along the berms/levees/dikes in the rice patties had proved fruitless. When I found out the Hash trail was also going through the same area, I expressly asked the Hare (Almoranus) about the water, and he assured me we could complete the hike with dry feet. So, when the designated path led back to the flooded road, I was a little pissed.

With my “fuck that” attitude firmly in place, I headed up the hill alongside the road, hoping to find a way to bypass the water. Once I’d gone as far as I could, I headed back down only to encounter a VERY steep descent near the bottom of the hill. I was treading carefully, holding on to tree limbs, and using my stick to steady myself, but it was to no avail. Suddenly, my feet flew out from under me; I came down hard flat on my back, then slid about ten or fifteen yards before mercifully coming to a stop. I was fortunate to only acquire a few scrapes and scratches during the ride down on my ass.

When I stood back up, I was disgusted to discover that I hadn’t managed to bypass the flooded road after all. So, I retreated along the bank back to where I had initially deviated and saw that my fellow Hashers were jumping over a narrow section of the road to reach dry ground on the other side. I joined in and made a successful leap, further demonstrating that my avoidance had been not only fruitless but also unnecessary and foolish.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. When I pulled my phone out of my back pocket to take a photograph, I discovered that it had not withstood the impact of my entire body weight slamming it into the ground. The screen was black and cracked, but the phone’s innards were still working. I could hear my tracker as it continued counting out distance and elapsed time, although I’m sure the mocking tone of voice was all in my imagination. Fuck.

My efforts thus far today to get the phone repaired have been fruitless. The Samsung A53 is a newer model, and no one has replacement parts in stock. I also discovered that I’m addicted to my phone and all the distractions it provides, so in desperation, I bought a replacement this morning (an A23 that I will keep as a backup for future emergencies).

Anyway, no other issues on trail. We did our first On-Home at Johan’s on Baloy since before the scamdemic. So, one more step towards normalcy. I figured the photos I had taken during the hike would not be available for this post, but I discovered almost by accident that they automatically upload to the Google Cloud, so at least I have a few of my own to add to the mix today.

Let’s get to it.

It’s been a while since I’ve done an 8K Hash trail. I had also done a beach walk in the morning. Lately, I’ve been averaging between 15,000 and 20,000 steps per day. It is very rare that I’ll do much more than that–21,000 thousand is a big day for me.

But Facebook memories remembered:

And falling on my ass.

I successfully completed run number one thousand five hundred and twenty-six with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. Well, a portion of it, anyway. Vienna Sausage (Guenter) was the Hare, so shortcutting by the “sane” group was inevitable. Sure enough, after completing the first climb, the trail immediately headed back down again. My group said, “nope,” and stayed up top. It wasn’t long before the Hare’s trail rejoined ours again. This happened twice more, and we didn’t fall for it. I laughed that we all know Vienna too well to get suckered into all those ups and downs. At one point, he had actually tied the tall thatch grass together in an attempt to hide the alternative path. I saw through that gesture and took some joy in breaking through the barricade while shouting a hearty “follow me!” to the rest of our group. Good times!

We took the next to last down and then shortcut our way back to the VFW for our On-Home festivities. The portion of the trail we did was familiar and mostly pleasant, except for the damned thatch grass. Well, ’tis the season and all that.

I didn’t have access to the photos Pubic Head puts together for the Hash page, so the viewing is a little sparser than usual. Sorry about that!

What? Are you wondering what this post has to do with four and twenty virgins? Glad you asked! The Hash Songmeister asked me to introduce a new song at the circle yesterday, and wanting to be a team player, I agreed. At least you didn’t have to hear me singing it!

Four and twenty virgins went down to Subic Hash
And when the Hash was over, there were four and twenty less
Singing, balls to your partner, ass against the wall
If you've never been drunk on a Monday night
You've never been drunk at all

You are welcome!

And here’s a quick peak into the future for y’all:

What was I doing fifty years ago? Pretty much what I’m doing now–enjoying my time in the countryside.

Of course, I wasn’t old enough to legally drink back then, but weed was readily available for ten bucks an ounce, so I got by.