Monday, March 14, 2005

The Four Horsewomen of the Apocalipstick

March 4-6, 2005
It was initially supposed to be a budget weekend trip involving The Princess and The Boys -- Maori, Miguelvis and myself parked in a borrowed tent. But in the three weeks it took to get to the slated weekend it somehow morphed into a mid-range weekend trip involving The Four Horsewomen of the Apocalipstick: Regine, Monica, Noelle and myself sharing a room at Surfer's Inn.

The weekend was, in a word: random.

The drive up was uneventful. Arriving, we found what my friend Gino likes to call a "Dior Gray" sky and ice-cold winds. We decided to sack out for an hour... secretly hoping that the weather would be improve by the time morning came fully around. And the sun did come out... the winds however had only picked up in speed.

But we were not to be deterred: we headed over to one spot to check out the waves (for me and Noe) and the sunshine (for Regine and Monica whose sole purpose for the weekend was to come home with a tan). No such luck. The line-up looked too competitive for our tastes... and the beach area non-existent. So we loaded up the car and headed towards another area. Of course we got a little bit lost on our way over... but looked on the bright side and chalked it up as an inadverted sight-seeing tour.

A stretch of beach facing an unsued pier, spot two is usually perfect for sunbathers. Also, the shallow waters allow us to walk almost to the line-up... making it popular in La Union with beginners as well. Except when the winds are howling and the sun has once again decided to go gun-shy. Even if the conditions were less than ideal and the waves were blown out, I still managed to catch some fairly fun rides.

But after half an hour of being buffeted by the wind, exfoliated by the sand and pumelled by the water, we were ready to call it quits. Especially after Noelle -- using her board as a shield -- lost her grip on it and got smacked upside the head. Off we went again... giggling over things that I can't even begin to explain why we found funny... and talking about running through the fields of tobacco we kept seeing along the way. (Regine and I recently quit smoking so the idea of an entire field of nicotine was... well... comforting.)

Back home, dry, and warm we did what any four girls stuck with the prospect of a gloomy afternoon at the beach would do -- we headed up to Baguio! The summer capital of the country was cold and crowded. But we didn't care as we tore through the racks of second-hand clothing... heads imploding over random shirts ("Heroscombie & Fitch") and oooh-ing over great finds (Regine's "Sunkist Good Vibrations" shirt for Php70).

Image hosted by Photobucket.com HEROSCOMBIE! (with our Mad Scientist Monica)



Three hours later, the trunk of the car filled with plastic bags and our bellies full of Pancake House, we headed back down to La Union... where we promptly found out there was a power outage. But only beginning at our place and down the road to our left. All the other resorts and inns had electricity. Hahahaha! (I told you it was all so random)

We hung around at Surfer's Retreat with the LU boys and my "kapatid" Neil for a bit. But the day's events had made us sleepy. And off to bed we went. The house was dark and we kept tripping over things on our way upstairs. And giggling because we felt bad for the guy who'd rented the bed on the first floor -- since he was probably pretty pissed off at all the accidental noise we were making. Least of all the sound of the cooler clattering to the floor when Regine lost her grip on it.

There is no other way to say this: Monica had the bright idea of turning on every single light in the apartment, so we would know when the electricity came back on. Of course, when the electricity did come back at 4 in the morning, we were not too pleased to be suddenly woken up by the yellow glare of every single light in the room. I dont even want to imagine what Downstairs Guy's reaction was. On behalf of our Mad Scientist, I am sorry if we ruined your Saturday night.

Sunday morning. Fresh sunshine. NO WIND. After a quick breakfast of banana chips, granola bars and assorted crap (we had a LOT of junkfood) we headed back to spot number two. And it finally lived up to the reputation Noe and I had been telling the other two girls about. We set up camp with the cooler, the mat and Brown Belly's official Huge Pink Beach 'Brella. Noe and I headed to the line-up. Regine and Monica coated themselves in various tanning products. All was good.

I had a couple of really good rides. And one particularly bad wipe-out. Then a few more okay rides. Periodically I'd come onshore to get a drink and chill out before heading back out. At some pointm random children came to sit in a semi-circle at our mat. I thought they were talking to Regine and Monica. When I walked up to them to take photos I realized they weren't. The kids were literally just sitting there looking at them. Random, I tell you. Random.

The small people left after we convinced them that neither Monica nor Noelle was a celebrity... (and after they "looted our snacks" as Regine puts it). Noe and I were back in the water and almost ready to call it a day.
And then it happened.
A wave bigger than I'd ever attempted to take. Luke told me to go for it, I didn't think it was wise. And then, for some inexplicable reason, I paddled for it anyway. And summarily got my ass royally kicked. My board was nose-diving, so I scooted backwards. It levelled off. And then... madness. The board flipped over. A fin got caught inside my rashguard. It sliced me at my hip then continued traveling up. I unhooked it -- the board flipped back over. The tail slammed into my throat and chin. And then I was underwater.

Oddly enough... I wasn't freaked. I'd had worse wipe-outs... this one just looked worse because of the blood and the bruises. But it hurt enough for me to come back on to dry land... to check on the gash and, admittedly, to try and even out my rash guard tan. We ooh-ed and eeew-ed over my cut. Laughed about Mang Bong chasing the umbrella across the sand and wondered what this one bag of potato chips we'd never tried would taste like.

Three hours later... we were heading back down to Manila. A random weekend full of random events. And enough estrogen to see a tweener to puberty.

The Randomness in Photos - go on and browse the pics... and comment if you must. We wont mind... much. Haha.
How Random Was Your Last Trip?

3 Comments:

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7:31 PM  
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6:37 AM  
Blogger kyle phillup said...

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10:59 AM  

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