At least, that’s what Shakespeare says. Kinda.
The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.
Sir John Falstaff in Henry IV, Part 1
Of course, in the context of that play, Falstaff’s discretion was acting cowardly. Regardless, I am alive to tell about yesterday’s Hash adventure, and that’s the most important thing, at least to me.
It rained most of the day, and then, as if by magic, the rain stopped and didn’t start again until we were safely On-Home at It Doesn’t Matter. But the damage had been done with the steep climbs and descents laid out by Vienna Sausage (Guenter) being a muddy and slippery mess. My usual wingman, Pubic Head, opted to stay on the pavement, saying that the planned trail was difficult enough on a dry day. The other members of the “sane” group had already departed, and I was loathe to make that steep climb on my own, given that my unfamiliarity with the area would make it hard to shortcut should I deem that necessary. I reluctantly decided to forego the trail as well.
I waited at the start until the scheduled 2 p.m. departure time for the sane group, expecting Black And Dick Her’s arrival. She turned out to be a no-show, so I headed out on my own pavement hike. I began on Abra Street, then circled back around randomly until I found myself on Rizal Extension. The Hare had said in his pre-hike briefing that the first part of his trail came down from the ridgeline, crossed Rizal, and then continued over another hill on the way to the On-Home venue. I decided to check that out and decide what to do from there.
When I found the trail again, I recognized this portion was one I had previously hiked, although my recollection was vague at best (pretty much like everything else in my garbled brain these days). But at least I had some familiarity which gave me the confidence to go forward, knowing I could always bail and go back the way I came. So off I went.
These days, when I hike alone, I keep things pretty flat in areas where other people reside. My nightmare is to take a plunge somewhere way up in the hills where no one would ever find me, and I’d suffer a slow, agonizing, and lonely death. Hey, I have a good imagination! But this trail started with steps and paved sidewalks, and when the concrete gave way to dirt (and mud), the climb wasn’t scary difficult, and there were no big dropoffs–even if I were to trip, the fall wouldn’t kill me. The higher I went, the more familiar my surroundings became, and at the top of the hill, I found myself on the well-known My Bitch trail. Now I had the confidence to continue on the Hare’s well-marked path the rest of the way On-Home. I also reminded myself that even if some tragedy were to befall me, the main body of Hashers were all coming from behind, and at least someone would find my corpse while it was still warm.
I successfully completed my journey to It Doesn’t Matter without a single trip or fall, just a couple of minor slips that kept me focused on the task at hand. It is certainly more fun to have some companions along on a hike, but I was kind of proud of myself for finding the courage to go it alone.
Here are some photos I took along the way:
After the Hash, I took my drunken ass to Sit-n-Bull for some grub.
It turned out to be a better day than I expected. I’m glad I lived to tell about it!
Sandwich at the end looks good! The trail, while beautiful, looks treacherous, especially that muddy descent and that area where you need roots for footholds. Yikes. At least you’ve lived to Hash another day!
2 exes in one town is quite a feat
never mind 2 exes in the same hash group in the same picture 📸
do they both know about each other?
Either you’re a prolific lover or your town is small
I’m gonna to with ” handsome lothario’
good for y’all to keep up with your exercise regimen
I see some taut flat stomachs on the womenfolk and rounded igloos of mushy bellies on the gentlemen
They say opposites attract .
also
do the bars bid to be the host venue for each of your hash gathering or do they consider it a rare inconvenience?
They’d have to balance their regular customers, with the extra waitstaff needed to serve your needs. But I guess the bigger profit margins would win out the day on that decision.
Did I read somewhere that you’re one of the leaders? back when you had a bigger house you could always invite everyone to cool off , and impress the ladies with your big yard too.
what happened to your bid for power?
and last question
will you ever pick up the darts again? Some of your finest hours were in darts, and while that did not help you when you wanted to lose the beer belly, you had some mental health goals there to keep your mind sharp.
Could your recent forgetfulness be attributed to your watching more Television and throwing fewer darts? What do you do to maintain a modicum of mental acuity? As you get older, you may want to consider that.
your body is in great shape ( though I use that word liberally), because you walk thousands of kilometers a year. What of your mind? Writing here sure does take some time for you, but there’s been a lack of mentally-challenging tasks in recent months J. Do you read? play board games, card games , online games? There’s gotta be more your brain activities other than remembering where you last saw your keys and your phones.
Emotionally, no notes there. You have had all sorts of Emotionally challenging events , enough to last a lifetime. Physically, you carry your beer belly all over town and that’s adequate exercise I would think. Though I should mention that swimming offers more total body exercise 🤔 I am surprised that in all your years on Barretto you’ve not considered taking scuba or diving lessons. I heard there may he wrecks down there full of mermaids and gold.
James, hell, I have more than two ex-gfs in this town. I was just a little surprised to see them posing together like that. I guess they do know each other.
I don’t think it is a bidding process; we’ll approach a bar and see what they have to offer. The real key is how much they charge for a beer. Anything over 55 pesos, we lose money, so we look for somewhere cheaper. One of the IDM owners and his wife are members of the Hash, which might be another reason we visited this venue. And no, I don’t have a leadership role in the Hash; I’m just an active participant willing to share my opinions when asked. The Hash does store the ice chests and other items in my carport, so there’s that.
I’m sure at some point I’ll start throwing darts again, probably just in an occasional tournament, though. The bottom line, it just stopped being fun, so what’s the point? I was an active player for over 17 years; I just felt like I needed a break.
Yeah, I don’t do much to stimulate my mind. I can’t remember the last time I read a book, and I have a hard time making it through a movie with my limited attention span. I do read several blogs every morning to catch up on the news of the world. I play some solitaire online, but that’s about it. I had a weird dream the other night where I was back at work dealing with some crazy issues. Maybe my subconscious is telling me to find something meaningful to do. Then again, I worked for 35 years; this is my time now.
As for scuba, there are several dive shops in town and lots of WWII wrecks to explore, but I’ve just never felt any desire to strap on the gear and swim underwater. I’ve got a slight case of claustrophobia, and the thought of breathing through a tank isn’t appealing. Probably not a good idea with my limited lung capacity as well.
Kev, yeah, the first part of the trail was more in keeping with Guenter’s reputation for being borderline dangerous. No regrets about missing that. The part I did was challenging, but I never felt at risk.