…always get me down. Especially rain on Hash Monday. And even more so when Vienna Sausage (Günter) is the Hare.
So, it rained all morning yesterday and I had pretty much resigned myself to walking the streets with an umbrella to the Hash On-Home at Derelick’s place. But then the rain halted and I decided to at least go to the designated meet-up spot since it was right here in my subdivision. I’m always wary when Günter is laying trail and I had in fact resolved to never participate whenever he was Hare again. But he told the assembled group that the path he had in mind was less than 3KM and that we would have one ascent going up to My Bitch from Marian Hills.
Well, that’s familiar territory for me and I figured what could go wrong on a 3K hike? So, I threw caution to the wind and Hashed with the group. I won’t call it a big mistake because a big mistake would have resulted in broken bones. Let’s just say I was very lucky it wasn’t a big mistake. Now, I will say that when Günter scouted the trail it hadn’t rained. But on this rainy Monday, the steep uphills and crazy downs he loves were a muddy and slippery mess. And there were at least three times on this relatively short hike where I felt endangered. And that takes pretty much all the fun out of the endeavor. I know that last time I ranted about one of Günter’s trails I said “never again!” And this time I really, really mean it.
Back at the On-Home, I sulked and drowned my sorrows as best I could.
Shortly thereafter they ran out of the kind of beer I drink. That was the last straw for me and I left before the completion of circle ceremonies. I hoofed it over to Sit-n-Bull where I enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich and coleslaw for dinner. Then I moseyed over to Mango’s for a nightcap before heading home.
Woke up a little sick during the night. I’ve had a runny nose and been sneezing all day long. No temperature though so I’m betting against this being COVID related. It does make you stop and think though. I actually have determined that I WOULD NOT go to the hospital for a test. The last place I want to be is in a quarantine ward at some shit-hole facility. And I have a suspicion they’s call it COVID whether it was or not. Nope. If I’m bound to die it will be right here at home I hope.
Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old
Sometimes I’d like to quit
Nothing ever seems to fit
Hangin’ around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down
What I’ve got they used to call the blues
Nothin’ is really wrong
Feelin’ like I don’t belong
Walkin’ around
Some kind of lonely clown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down
Just for the record, I never cared for that song. Although these days I can relate to it more than I’d like.
“I know that last time I ranted about one of Günter’s trails I said ‘never again!’ And this time I really, really mean it.”
When, oh when, will Current John learn to listen to the wisdom of Past John? Pretty much all of your existential questions about life and love have already been answered, I’d say, and you have a blogful of wisdom to consult. Heh.
About that “enjoy the beach views” picture… I’m paranoid now. Is that a lady? Can we be sure? Or is it that, when you’re in Southeast Asia, you just let go and admire anything that looks pretty, whatever the actual reality may be?
Heh is right. Past performance is no guarantee of future results. Or those who refuse to learn from past mistakes are destined to repeat them. One of those.
Yeah, that’s a real woman in the photo–I could feel it inside me. *ahem* Actually I did get a good closeup view as she was dining in Mango’s with her husband/boyfriend. None of the tell-tale bakla signs.
Has anyone who doesn’t own a bar ever died on a hash?
I’m not aware of anyone dying on trail, and I have asked that question. Other than some cuts and bruises (I got stitches once) I guess the most serious events have been people getting lost and stuck out in the wild overnight.