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.

2 thoughts on “I still can’t drive 55

  1. And a beef stew lunch at Johansson’s when the work was done.

    I’m trying to remember whether I’ve ever seen your own slow-cooked creations paired up with taters—as God intended.

    And she was swingin’

    I’ve seen enough YouTube “fail” videos to know that the rope always eventually snaps. Careful!

    It was good to see 18-Kilo Ass back out after missing a couple of months.

    And he’s somehow looking even slimmer.

    Movin’ on out

    Looks to be a Lord of the Rings adventure. Always good to remember how large and humbling the forest can be.

    Time to move on.

    Is it too early for congratulations? Looks as though you’ll be back in a legitimate house. Awesome. The breathing room! And I hope that this new area is already so developed that there’s no chance of there being a new house to block your nice views.

  2. Kev, I usually add potato chunks to my stews, but I can’t remember the last time I ever even attempted to make mashed potatoes. I’m one lazy fucker in the kitchen!

    As for Jo swinging, the rope breaking would be the least of my worries. I looked at how the swing was tied to a branch high up in the tree and thought, “damn, how much can that branch hold? And if it breaks, that’s gonna be a hell of a headache!”

    Papers have been signed and money has changed hands, so unless I’ve been scammed, the move is on effective October 1. More on that in today’s post. This house sits high enough up the hill that any future construction below will have no impact on the view.

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