Clever Title Here

You belong among the wildflowers, you belong in a boat out at sea

2010-02-14T14:55:00.000-08:00

* * *

So we're T minus eight days until we sit for the Bar. Frankly, I'm just ready to have it over with. I've had moments of stress, moments of hysteria, and moments of pure confusion, but when it comes down to it, I'm just ready to be done with it.

I'm ready to be more active again - the weather has gotten beautiful here lately and I hate wasting sunny days inside. There are hikes to be made and fish to be caught and yoga to be practiced.

I'm ready to start planning - we've got a house purchase in the works (knock on wood) and I have landscaping and painting and decoration daydreaming to be doing.

I'm ready to read for fun - I've ordered a couple new books as incentives for finishing up this studying business, and they've been calling my name ever since they got here.

I'm ready to finish the unfinished - I've got scrapbooks half-done and a baby blanket half-knitted and pictures ready for frames.

I'm ready to hang out with people again - this studying thing has made me into an incredibly boring person, and I'm ready to just relax with my family and friends for a while, and not have the nagging feeling that I'm supposed to be doing something hanging over my head.

And really, I'm ready to start spending quality time with my husband - ever since we met, we've been "in the middle of something," whether it's school or internships or wedding planning. I'm ready to be able to just enjoy him for a while!

* * *

On the bright side, we had a beautiful Valentine's Day! I made blueberry muffins for breakfast (from a box...it was the least time-consuming thing I could do and still feel like it was "special"), and then opened our gifts! My husband got me a fishing lanyard and some fishing tools, and I got him a picture frame display as sort of an early housewarming/V-Day gift. Then we took Noodle to the dog park up the street, and tonight we'll cut the studying early to grab some Mexican food and watch "Couples Retreat."

* * *

So this is the New Year

2010-01-07T09:38:00.000-08:00

* * *

It's been oh so long! But it's a new year, new habits, right?

I'm anxious to see what 2010 has in store for me. 2009 was so action-packed that it will be hard to compete. I went from law student to juris doctorate, from girlfriend to fiance to wife to future baby mama, and from California to Nevada.

This year, we'll go from newlyweds to parents, juris doctorates to esquires, renters to homeless to homeowners.

I suppose that, really, that's plenty.

* * *

So that's what we're doing now...holing up back in Nevada, studying for the Bar exam with our trusty pup.

And I'm due June 1st. We recently found out he's not an "it" after all, but an actual little boy! Which, I suppose, explains the marathon kickboxing sessions in my belly. So in between iPod law lectures, we travel to Idaho for doctor's visits.

And in between that, we try to make time to keep ourselves sane. Our Christmas gifts to each other were snowshoes, so we're going to head up to Tahoe to give it a shot on weekends. And we've been taking our dog to the dog park to get all of us a little fresh air, so...hopefully we'll keep our sanity after all.

And here's my parents' new pup, on the left, with ours on the right. They're pretty much soulmates...in a purely platonic, neutered-male-dog kind of way.

* * *

If ever there was someone to keep me at home, it would be you

2009-04-28T14:01:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, I haven't been doing much hiking lately. Or, for that matter, camping. And yes, that's devastating to me.

Although I can't complain too much - the last time I did go camping, out in "my" Anza-Borrego Desert, I got engaged!

That's right. The cute boy who kept up with me last year in Anza-Borrego, and since then has put up with all my other expeditions, proposed to me on February 4th. And it was perfect. Because, let's face it, it's hard to mess up a desert-camping-with-wine proposal. Especially when you've got scenery like this:

And this:

And you're camping somewhere like this:

And the next morning, you get to hike somewhere like this, Oriflamme Canyon, leading up to what's supposed to be a breathtaking waterfall:

Because even though we didn't make it to the top (a freak thunderstorm hit and we had to race back down through the brush), and even though my car suffered for it all (broken and leaky shocks and a gnarly scratch down the driver's side), it was the most perfect trip a girl like me could ever have asked for.

* * *

So now, we're planning the wedding. It will, appropriately enough, be an entirely outdoor affair. And even though it will be in the heat of summer and we have to spend the months beforehand living apart, doing internships in separate cities, I have no doubt that it will be as perfect as its beginnings.

* * *

She just smiled and laughed at me and took her blues back again

2008-10-19T09:26:00.000-07:00

* * *

So yesterday, with a serious craving for some fall air and apple cider, we took a jaunt to Julian to pick apples. It was the perfect fall day - warm and sunny with a nice mountain breeze coming in the car windows - and we got an early enough start that we were able to get there, get our apples, and eat lunch - and still be home by 3 to hit the gym and do some studying.

These are some random out-the-window shots of the drive up:

I've hiked near this one, a little over a year ago - unfortunately, I don't think I had my camera with me at the time, because I can't seem to find a blog post here about it. It was a beautiful hike, though, and there were a ton of horseback riders - which made me miss my horses terribly!

From here, you can almost see Anza-Borrego, "my" desert. I've hiked there a couple times - once getting lost, once not getting lost but getting very tired, and once with the cute boy I now live with!

And here's Lake Cuyamaca, where we caught a whopping zero fish a couple of weeks ago. I guess you win some, you lose lots?

And here, even though it doesn't show very well, is the reddest field of...something...I've ever seen. It was really brilliantly-colored in person, and it made it feel that much more like fall!

Then we got to Julian. This photo about sums up the entire town.

We had to go through and past Julian to get to the orchards, which wasn't too much skin off our backs (except in the motion-sickness department, which got a little gnarly at times), considering it all looked like this:

And then we got to pick apples! And boy, did we pick apples. 24 pounds' worth of apples, to be precise (plus the one we couldn't resist eating in the orchard). It was ridiculously fun, aside from the obnoxious couple with their obnoxious child running around poaching on every tree we hit!

Then we went back into Julian, had lunch at the Cowgirl Cafe, and hit the road to come back and (blech) study.

So now I'm busy finding apple recipes. So far I've got: Mom's apple pie filling, some roasted applesauce that I fell in love with last fall, fresh apple juice every morning, and caramel apples. Yes, we made a trip to the Julian candy store after lunch yesterday to buy caramels for the caramel apples. And yes, their quantity diminished significantly on the drive home.

* * *

And I say to myself, what a wonderful life

2008-10-08T09:16:00.000-07:00

* * *

I'm a very proud mom right now. The broccoli and kale I planted last Friday are sprouting, and so is one "batch" of lettuce.

See? Here's a very poor picture of my baby lettuce. All in all, there are 11 sprouts - unfortunately, they're all really close together, and I'm going to dread the day I have to thin them out (which always seems like code for something very cruel).

And here's a very poor picture of my one lonely broccoli sprout, which makes me terribly excited too, because it was so hot here yesterday (almost 90, even by the beach, and it's going to be toasty again today) that I was afraid they wouldn't germinate.

And here! Here's my potted kale, which I'm now wishing I would've planted in the ground so I could have much more of it. I'm sort of a kale addict, and just got a bunch of new recipes for it. I think I saved a few seeds though, so maybe I'll plant a few next weekend (in the ground) to see if I can stagger the harvest a little bit.

* * *

And here is my little monster - I mean, my little darling. Grace has a bit of a laundry fetish, and yesterday, for a study break before our Evidence final (how sad is it that laundry = break for me?), I did a few loads of laundry.

Obviously, Grace was a very happy cat.

* * *

And I tried to sing, but I couldn't think of anything

2008-10-06T20:00:00.001-07:00

* * *

I miss my horses!

Tell the repo man, and the stars above, that you're the one I love

2008-09-18T12:49:00.001-07:00

* * *

So, Sunday, after I'd spent all weekend admiring my "squigglies" and begging my boyfriend to take me fishing, he caved.

So we gassed up the car, packed up a picnic and sunscreen, and drove out to El Capitan Reservoir to catch some fish.

After three hours, two different spots, and a really annoying couple of guys in a boat that kept running over our lines, we hadn't caught a thing. Neither of us, actually, had even gotten a bite.

So we packed up our picnic and sunscreen and went home.

On the bright side, it was a beautiful day and the lake is a really close, convenient place to go when we need a break from schoolwork - it's only about a 40-minute drive from our house.

Here's what it looked like:

* * *

What though the odds be great or small, Old Notre Dame will win over all

2008-09-14T10:18:00.001-07:00

* * *

Yes, those are lyrics to the Notre Dame fight song. Which I've been forced to memorize.

So, in the spirit of football season (which has been consuming my weekends, despite my futile protests), I give you this:

Pre-Game Coin Toss Makes Jacksonville Jaguars Realize Randomness Of Life

* * *

I've still got sand in my shoes

2008-09-13T12:00:00.000-07:00

* * *

So the gardening continues. I'm sure I'll run out of soil/space/sun/time eventually, but until then, I can't get enough of having my back sore and my feet muddy and my fingernails dirty.

After a day of having my mint garden planted, I had to move it because the area they were in that I thought had 6-8 hours of sun every day is actually protected by some strange overhang, and only got about 3.

So I planted these, instead:

* * *

It's the most colorful coleus I've seen in a long time (so I totally splurged on it), sandwiched between two other shade plants (which I've forgotten the name of at the moment and can't bother myself to get off the couch, walk thirty feet, and check), which are the prettiest deep maroon-purple color. They look like coral bells, a little bit, but obviously aren't. The tag says they reproduce by bulbs, so I'm hoping they take off and it turns into a pretty shade garden.

So I moved my mints here, and put edging around them (which turned out to be a hell of a project, not like the easy fix I'd thought it would be). I haven't quite decided what to put next to them, but I'm thinking maybe my carrots and onions. I ordered seed a couple weeks ago, but haven't put them in yet. I'm also going to be planting some lettuce, spinach, and kale - but I don't dare put them out until it cools off a bit. A lot. The mints look tiny and scraggly in this picture, but I'm optimistically thinking that they'll do the mint-like thing and take over that section.

* * *

I also put edging around the tomato and basil.

And, I added two more herbs to my little potted collection. A rosemary plant, and the purple sage on the left. They seem to get along just fine with my lavender, and I'm a happy girl having all these plants to take care of and smell when I go outside for my morning coffee or my evening cocktail!

* * *

In other news, I've been stocking up on fishing tackle (or, as I like to call them, "squigglies"). We're going fishing at El Capitan Reservoir tomorrow morning, as long as today's full lineup of college football doesn't leave us too tired/backlogged on homework/hungover to get out of the house tomorrow!

But anyway, I'm up to 23 "squigglies" now. Aren't they pretty?

* * *

Here comes the sun, it feels like years since it's been here

2008-09-05T19:49:00.000-07:00

* * *
I promised I'd be back. And even though it's not with exciting places I've been (but it will be again, I promise!), it's with exciting things I'm doing.

Like starting a garden in my new beach house.

An herb garden, with lavender, cilantro, dill, garlic chives, two kinds of basil, and four kinds of mint.

And a vegetable garden, with an Anaheim pepper plant that's getting ready to produce, and a tomato plant, that probably won't last long enough to produce!

But I love them all anyway, and here are pictures to prove it!

* * *

Here's my lavender plant (I've always been a bit of a sucker for anything lavender-scented, especially, you know, lavender plants), which I planted in a great ceramic pot I found lying around the yard unused. The others are my herbs, in the box I brought them home in.

And here are my mints! From left to right, there's lemon mint, spearmint, peppermint, and water mint, which I've never actually heard of, but smells so sweet and delicious that I couldn't resist! They're going right underneath my roommate's window, so I'm hoping he doesn't mind the smell of deliciousness coming into his room every night...

And here are the herbs I planted last night: dill, garlic chives, and cilantro. This may or may not go well, because when I started digging up the dirt to add the topsoil, I noticed that the shrub nearby had firmly entrenched its roots under my proposed garden site... But according to my mom, cilantro is indestructible. So I planted it in the sketchiest of the spots.

And this! This is a pepper plant, in all its leggy glory. I've read a few times that it's hard to transplant peppers, and that they're sort of picky about conditions, but I couldn't resist the possibility of having fresh Anaheim peppers to stuff for dinner one of these nights!

So that's the garden, for now. I've got more seeds coming - cold-weather greens like lettuce, spinach, and kale. Plus some onions, and some carrots.

I'll keep you posted.

* * *

Next weekend I'm off to Cuyamaca for an overnight fishing trip.

But first, I've got a Notre Dame football/roommate's birthday/roommate's friend's birthday barbecue to attend to.

Happy Saturday!

...and then she was back again

2008-08-28T15:27:00.000-07:00

* * *

I've been busy. Really, really busy. But I promise, I really haven't forgotten.

I've got pictures, and some of them are pretty and some of them are blurry and some of them are of places I'll never go again and some of them are of places I can't wait to go again.

And, I'll show you them all.

But first, I need a nap.

* * *

The truth is we say not as we do

2008-05-11T18:45:00.000-07:00

* * *

I've been to places since I've been gone. Fun places. Beautiful places, even.

Places like Anza-Borrego (another trip, this time with company - which I'm not typically used to having on my jaunts. But he was cute, and he kept up with me, so.)

And places like Joshua Tree National Park, on a failed (I like to say "postponed") attempt to climb Eagle Mountain, allegedly the highest in the park.

And places like El Capitan Open Space Preserve. It's one of my favorite local hikes - accessible and easy to do on a weekday morning, but still strenuous enough that you feel like you've done a "real hike."

And Austin, on a whim, to see Built To Spill at Stubb's.

And then Zurich, Switzerland, to see my little brother, ski in the Alps, and eat lots of chocolate.

And Joshua Tree, again, for another "postponed" attempt at climbing Eagle Mountain. But look what else I saw:

So la vita es bella, still, even with full-time law-student-ness periodically kicking my butt.

Next on the agenda? Barcelona, Espana, and the side trips that will ensue. I'm leaving in a week, and couldn't be more excited - or less prepared - if I tried!

* * *

Sleep Through the Static

Trouble travels fast
When you're specially designed for crash testing
Or wearing wool sunglasses in the afternoon
Come on and tell us what you're trying to prove

Because it's a battle when you dabble in war
You store it up, unleash it, then you piece it together
Whether the storm drain running rampant just stamp it
And send it to somebody who's pretending to care

Just cash in your blanks for little toy tanks
Learn how to use them, then abuse them and choose them
Over conversations relationships are overrated
"I hated everyone" said the sun

And so I will cook all your books
You're too good looking and mistooken
You could watch it instead
From the comfort of your burning beds
…Or you can sleep through the static

Who needs sleep when we've got love?
Who needs keys when we've got clubs?
Who needs please when we've got guns?
Who needs peace when we've gone above
But beyond where we should have gone?
We went beyond where we should have gone

Stuck between channels my thoughts all quit
I thought about them too much, allowed them to touch
The feelings that rained down on the plains all dried and cracked
Waiting for things that never came

Shock and awful thing to make somebody think
That they have to choose pushing for peace supporting the troops
And either you're weak or you'll use brute force-feed the truth
The truth is we say not as we do

We say anytime, anywhere, just show your teeth and strike the fear
Of god wears camouflage, cries at night and drives a dodge
Pick up the beat and stop hogging the feast
That's no way to treat an enemy

Well mighty mighty appetite
we just eat 'em up and keep on driving
Freedom can be freezing take a picture from the pretty side
Mind your manners wave your banners
What a wonderful world that this angle can see

But who needs to see what we've done?
Who needs please when we've got guns?
Who needs keys when we've got clubs?
Who needs peace when we've gone above
But beyond where we should have gone?
Beyond where we should have gone
We went beyond where we should have gone
Beyond where we should have gone

Love me, love me, say that you love me

2008-04-21T20:14:00.000-07:00

* * *

I haven't forgotten you, and I hope you haven't forgotten me.

I'll post again. I promise. And there will be pictures and words and fun will be had by all.

* * *

Keep losing my mind looking for the peace that I'll never find

2007-11-12T10:20:00.001-08:00

* * *

So. Yesterday I woke up and decided I wanted to go hiking, but that since I had lots to do, it would have to be a quick one. So I chose Bow Willow Canyon - 7.6 miles, mostly flat, an easy two-hour jaunt through the desert. You know, it'd be enough to get some fresh air and sunshine, but I'd still be home in the afternoon to get "real life" things done. Oh, how unpredictable days like this can be. As you'll see, what started off as plans for a relaxing stroll through a canyon turned into an all-day trek over mountains and through cactus groves and almost into Mexico before I realized that what looks like east in the summer is south in the winter. Oh, those conniving sun angles.

Anyway. Here's where I started, at the mouth of this wash (which I'm not even sure was Bow Willow after all...). It was wide and sandy - almost like walking through beach sand the way your feet sunk in.

And, truth be told, although it was pretty here, and the sky was blue and the breeze was wonderful, it (as it started out here, anyway) wasn't my favorite Anza-Borrego hike so far, if only because it was fairly monotonous throughout. See how bleached-out everything looks? It might be this time of year, though; mid-morning in the middle of November isn't probably the most colorful time to be in the desert.

But obviously it had its moments. When you got further into the canyon, the colors contrasted a little more and it started to resemble the desert I know and love. (You know, the one with colors...)

There was all this mangled brush - you had to do a bit of navigating in spots, and I was constantly worried I'd stumble into a snake. Surprisingly, I didn't see a single one the entire day.

The wash, obviously, went on like this for a while - sort of uneventful but taking some surprisingly subtle but crucial changes in direction. Which is what I blame for what happened next.

And this is what happened next. See these cacti? Across that field is a low saddle that looked like it might head toward something more interesting than where I was. And that looked like it might head toward the west, which in my twisted logic was an easy way to make a loop hike out of an out-and-back hike. Besides, like I tell people all the time, "you can't get lost in the desert. You can see everything in the desert; it's impossible to get lost in the desert. It just doesn't happen."

So... over the cacti and through the brush, to a cooler location we go.

This is the saddle I was headed toward. See? Much more interesting than where I was headed, right? And I'm thinking to myself, "I was headed south, this will take me west so I can loop back onto the trail I was on. I'll just cross-country it, because I'm sure I'll be able to see where I need to be; it's the desert, after all. You can't get lost in the desert."

See? This is what kept me going. More interesting stuff. Look at this - it's like sticks... with... leaves. I don't know; maybe it was heat exhaustion that made it seem awesome at the time.

More cacti. This is about the time where one of them attacked me. And before you laugh, read this. It's true - these buggers suck onto you if you so much as brush them. In fact, I thought I'd been bit by a snake, because the first one (of many) that got me made this weird "thwap" noise as it embedded itself into my Achilles tendon. I totally froze for a second, convinced I'd been rattlesnaked and would die a slow, painful death in the middle of the desert.

When I looked down, it was this, stuck straight into that soft spot of my heel between the bone and the tendon. Not awesome. And to think - I was wearing thick socks, hiking boots, and pants - I can't imagine if I'd been wearing my trail runners or shorts at the moment. Luckily, I always carry two or three bandannas, and I used one to make a loop around the thing and pull it out. No easy task - and I still have bruises from where the barbs got pulled out. Oh, and just for the record? That's bigger than my size-9, gigantic hiking boot. It's big. And sharp.

But it was worth it when I got to the top, because look. See down at the base of that far hill? That's where I'd been before I decided to trek across the mountain. And I hadn't had nearly as good a view from down there as I did from up here. And look at the sky! How blue is that?

Here's the view toward where I was headed. I suppose my first hint that something was about to go very, very awry was the fact that those mountains looked nothing like the ones I'd been in. In fact, I later realized I was heading into an entirely different mountain range: the Coyote Mountains. Yeah. They go into Mexico. Why I didn't pay attention to this little detail at the time, I may never know.

On the way out (or what I thought was "out" but turned out to be "away from where I thought I was going"), I did see some cool sights. Like these bighorn sheep! I couldn't believe how close I was before they ran! There were probably 25 or so - this mom and two babies got separated from the rest of the herd and just sort of kept an eye on me while I walked by.

And this was part of the rest of the herd. If you can ignore my nonexistent photography skills, you can (sort of) see them at the bottom of the photo. I was actually surprised at how small they were - I hadn't seen them since I was a kid, and they seemed much bigger then.

And then. For the next, I don't know, ten miles, I've got no pictures but this one. Why? Because I pulled a rookie hiker move and got completely, retardedly, insanely, I-thought-irretrievably lost. Because my internal navigation system is, well, nonexistent, and because I didn't have a compass or anything but a sketched-out map, and because the winter sun angles are much more unreliable than the summer angles, I ended up going this way instead of that, and then that way instead of this. Sigh.

So I trekked down one canyon, into another canyon, turned around and hiked back up the second canyon (which, now, I think may have been Carrizo Gorge), up a hill, back down a hill and then up another hill because the first wasn't high enough to see over the second, down a hill, down two more hills (how that happened, I still don't know), past a long-abandoned truck, and...well, you understand. I was lost. After a while, I took off my hiking boots, put on my trail runners (why I had them in my pack, I still don't quite know, but I'm not going to look that gift horse in the mouth) and literally ran across these hillsides.

And look - there was even water. You can't see it but this sign says "AGUA/WATER" and in that box are about six sealed jugs of drinking water. So I filled my Camelbak and trekked some more. At this point, I'm really not sure which direction I was headed. But I had water and sunscreen, so I was prepared for (almost) anything.

Oh yes, it was an adventure, all right. After too many more cholla encounters to count, and after bruising myself repeatedly while scrambling over rocky hillsides, and after narrowly missing a concussion but not whiplash sliding halfway down a hill...well, I made it to S-2, which was the road I'd originally turned off of to get to the road that took me to my trailhead. Unfortunately, I was about a mile and a half from where I'd gotten off that road. So I walked on the shoulder of the road for a while, came to the dirt road that took me to the trailhead, and have never been more relieved to have "only" 2.4 miles left to where I needed to be. See that narrow road in the distance? That's what I was headed on.

And don't worry, Mom. I yelled at myself for you, so you don't have to do it: "This is why you don't hike alone. This is why you tell someone where you'll be. This is why you don't just go off bushwhacking when you don't know the area." But look at it this way: at least you raised a tough broad for a daughter! Sure, a disobedient tough broad...but still! You should be proud!

Yeah, I've never been so happy to get to my car in my life. Because after six hours that should've been two, five cactus-attacks that should've been none, 16 miles that should've been less than half that, and sunscreen in my eyes and dirt on every inch of my body and a sunburn in the middle of November, I was beyond ready for a shower and a stiff drink.

And just in time, too. The second my car came into sight, it started to rain. So, you know, things could've been worse - I could've been caught in a flash flood. And besides, look at all the things I would've missed if I'd stayed on that boring first trail! No bighorn sheep, no jackrabbits, none of this scenery:

So I'll be back. Oh, I will be back. Next time, though, with a GPS. Or at least a map and compass and some brushed-up navigation skills!

* * *

Someone's Daughter

I wanna sit and talk and laugh with you as the ends,
I wanna see your smiling face before the new begins,
You never know what it means to see the sunlight in your
hair and dancing everywhere.

I wanna shout about it,
But I keep quiet about it,
I wanna laugh about it,
But I don't joke about,
Wanna live without it,
But I can't do without it.

I'm someone's daughter,
An' your somebody's son,
Can I ease your pain 'til the morning comes,
I'm no one's daughter
I belong to the sun,
Gonna ease your pain 'til the morning comes.

Keep looking for the reason high and low to let it go,
Keep losing my mind looking for the peace that I'll never find,
I wanna know what it feels like to be the sunlight in your hair and dancing everywhere.

I wanna shout about it,
But I keep quiet about it,
I wanna laugh about it,
But I don't joke about,
Wanna live without it,
But I can't do without it.

I'm someone's daughter,
An' your somebody's son,
Can I ease your pain 'til the morning comes,
I'm no one's daughter
I belong to the sun,
Gonna ease your pain 'til the morning comes

The vines climb trees towards the light

2007-11-02T14:42:00.001-07:00

* * *

So. No hiking lately, and probably not for a while, because of the gnarly wildfires we had last week - all the spots are, you know, charred.

Instead, I went back to Nevada to see my parents and do some Thanksgiving planning, fall cooking, and "horsekeeping."

But I did take pictures of it all, because let's face it, I'm sort of a camera addict. On my way out of town Tuesday on the 15, the streets were deserted, except for some evacuees. Every radio station was playing constantly-updating news on the fires, and there were National Guard people and Red Cross Disaster Aid vehicles and firetrucks everywhere. It felt like I'd driven onto the scene of a nuclear war movie.

At times, you could have confused the smoke with fog - because it does get foggy here. But all you had to do was breathe for a reality check. With my A/C blasting, a scarf around my face, and my windows up, I still had watery eyes and a sore throat from the smoke. And my poor cats, who I'd loaded up for the 11-hour drive, were sneezing and wheezing. No good.

Then, as soon as you thought you'd left the smoke behind, you got to San Bernardino, and saw this plume of smoke. It was weird too - it almost looked like a volcano or something.

And the sky turned the strangest colors - it was orange and brown and gray and black all at once. Apropos for Halloween, I suppose? Notice the completely-deserted highway. And this is the 215 - a pretty major road. For a second I panicked and wondered if I'd accidentally missed a road closure or something. It was so, so, so windy here, too - it was blowing my little car all over the road, and the only high-profile vehicles I saw were pulled over on the side of the road, rocking away.

But then. Then I got out of the mess, drove through the desert on 395, and came to the Eastern Sierras. It was clear and beautiful and cool, and I even got to see some spectacular fall colors, right as my camera batteries died. This is Lone Pine, near Mt. Whitney (which, knock on wood, Mom and I will be hiking early next summer!).

* * *

So, I spent a few days back home, cooking and putting together Thanksgiving recipes and picking apples and making applesauce and fruit leather. This is our Halloween spread. Like the pumpkin vase? How about the pumpkin tealight holders?

And this is what we ate: Eyeball Soup (which was my favorite!), Sand-Witches, Pumpkin-Pomegranate Salad, and Berry Scary Martinis!

And then we had a Sunday brunch: maple-apple-cranberry tart, with fresh apples from the tree, and pear-nectar Mimosas! It simply doesn't get any better than this!

* * *

Honeymoon Child

You are true honeymoon child
Conceived on an island in the sun
Heels dug in the white sand
Loved and adored from day one

Raised in a wild space
Between two hearts
With the vines climb trees towards the light
Running naked, dragging a kite
Or your dress on a string

You bring up the soft side in everyone
We gather like ravens
On a rusty scythe
Just to watch
Such a little dove
Just to watch
Such a little dove
Fly away

Mr. bones from town said he saw you the other day
He said you changed but he wouldn't say how
Well it can always turn
Yeah, it can always turn
A wing can always turn

And the flames went higher.

2007-10-24T08:27:00.000-07:00

I would like to say that everything you see on the news about these fires is sensationalism, but the truth is, it isn't. In fact, it's really the tip of the iceberg.

Because it really is devastating - it looks and feels like you're living a scene from War of the Worlds or Armageddon or Independence Day. The sky is orange at night and black in the afternoon, and when you go outside you have to put something over your mouth and nose, and your eyes water like you're cutting an onion.

People walk around like they're in a daze, and the highways are abandoned. Schools and businesses are closed. When you wake up in the middle of the night to helicopters overhead, your first reaction is to check the news to make sure you're not being evacuated. And when you hear someone yell, you don't assume it's a party anymore; you assume it's flames. Because you can see the flames over the hill, and smell the smoke, and hear the sirens, and let's be honest, that's just nerve-wracking.

That said, I have to give major kudos to the city and county - because, seriously, the reaction to the fires was so fast, and so efficient, and so positive that it made things infinitely easier than they might otherwise have been. And also major kudos to the citizens of San Diego - I haven't heard a negative word throughout the whole thing. In fact, people are taking time off from work to help out, they've exceeded their donation and volunteer requests, and people are actually making parties out of the evacuation centers. It's really, really amazing - and I'm not a person who's amazed at the human condition very often. When I compare it to Katrina (and I'm not the only one who's doing this, so I don't think it's that unfounded - they've made plenty of parallels on the news and around town), I feel lucky, and proud, and excited to be living in such a positive, efficient, supportive community. There were signs in other parts of town saying things like, "Evacuees, welcome to Ocean Beach - anything you need, just ask!" So yeah, while it's very, very bad, something about it is also very, very good.

* * *

In the light of these events, I left yesterday afternoon. I canceled my plane ticket for my already-planned Nevada trip and drove up, extending the trip by a few days. Classes were canceled for the week, and we weren't allowed to use the streets, power, or our cell phones, and volunteers were being turned away. So I felt like I'd be doing more of a disservice, by being a burden, if I stayed.

On the way out of town, I drove by one of my favorite hiking spots, and it's unrecognizable - it's totally black. The homes near there are collapsed and charred, and the smoke was so thick that even in my car with the A/C on and a scarf over my nose and mouth, I felt like I was choking. My cats and bird - which I took with me "just in case" - were sneezing, and all our eyes were watering. It was so dark it felt like you were driving through thick fog at dusk, and most of the other traffic was people with horse trailers and pickups loaded up and masks over their faces.

I tried to take a few pictures as I drove, but I can't get them onto my computer until I get back to San Diego.

* * *

Ring of Fire

Love is a burning thing
and it makes a fiery ring
bound by wild desire
I fell in to a ring of fire...

I fell in to a burning ring of fire
I went down,down,down
and the flames went higher.
And it burns, burns, burns
the ring of fire
the ring of fire.

The taste of love is sweet
when hearts like ours meet
I fell for you like a child
oh, but the fire went wild..

In this nature show that rages every day

2007-10-13T16:01:00.001-07:00

So...my "hike of the week" was out to the Carrizo Badlands near Anza-Borrego. In fact, it could be part of Anza-Borrego; I really don't know, because on the way there I went in and out San Diego and Imperial Counties about a dozen times, and through about as many "designated wildernesses" and "protected areas" and "BLM land management areas," and "state parks" that I sort of lost track of where I was. As near as I can tell, though, I was sort of on the outskirts of Anza-Borrego.

This particular hike wound through Arroyo Tapiado and Arroyo Seco del Diablo. It was really, really, really, really, really, really....yeah...really spectacular. But then again, I've always been a bit of a "desert rat," as my mom would say. Because no matter where I go, I'm always most at home in the desert, when I can see for miles, am the only person around, and there's not a drop of water to be found.

So anyway, I drove east on I-8 for about an hour and a half - these are some windmills near Live Oak Springs - and despite what this picture would have you believe, I hit some fog right before this in which I was 100% convinced I was going to come to my own tragic demise. It was so thick I was terrified driving 35 on the interstate over the summit. This was, luckily, right after that. And when I stopped for gas near here, it was so cold, and so windy, that I was wishing for my parka. Unfortunately, there's not a huge demand for that in my daily San Diego life, which means it was back in Reno, and I was left freezing as I filled up my tank.

But then. Then I turned off I-8 onto Highway S-2 at Ocotillo. And it turned into badlands and desert, and I felt right at home. It was before 9:00 in the morning, and was already about 80 degrees. Oh, and the wind! The wind, when I stopped for this photo op off S-2, was so strong it blew my car door shut on me when I was getting out! But this is an overlook view of the Carrizo Badlands. How's that for some gnarly territory?

Then, after 22 or so miles on S-2, I came to my turnoff - a dirt road that took me 4.5 miles to where I started hiking. Really, the road kept going - it's what I hiked on most of the way - but it was pretty tough in some spots for my little no-four-wheel-drive-having Saturn, and besides, what's the fun of driving through all this scenery when you can get up close and personal with it?

This was near the beginning of the first canyon, Arroyo Tapiado. It started off kind of shallow like this, then wound pretty tight and the walls sort of loomed over you. Which was nice considering it gave me some shade and a serious windbreak.

The reason people come out here, mostly, is for four-wheeling and these caves. As I learned from my handy little guidebook, it's pseudokarst territory. Here was one such cave. I wanted to explore them more - there are dozens of them - but I wanted to do a little "recon" on my first trip out, and I was a little nervous to go too far in there alone, considering the earthquakes we've been having lately. So that'll have to wait for next time - but I definitely plan on there being a next time. This is the view in from outside.

And this is the view out from inside - or at least as far as I ventured.

So Arroyo Tapiado sort of continued like that for a while - twisty canyons and caves - until about 6.5 miles in, where it opened up a bit. This plant was growing out of rock, which sounds impossible to me, too - but I promise I'm not making it up. Look, here's a picture to prove it.

Then at mile 6.7, according to my awesome navigational skills (OK, OK, so it was according to my guidebook...), I veered off to the right and up a slope and out of the canyon. I walked about a hundred yards and by the time I looked back, I couldn't even see that canyons existed anymore. It was strange thinking that the canyons were under the ground I was walking on - I can't imagine accidentally coming across one of those! It was pretty amazing, though - when I got up to the flat, I felt like I was the only person on earth. That's probably kind of creepy to city people, but it's a feeling I live for. I couldn't see a sign of civilization in any direction (well, except for the road I was on, which I hadn't left yet), and it seemed like I could see forever. Plus, there were all these teddybear cholla cacti here - it was like they only grew in clusters.

And this is what I mean by thinking you can see forever - those are the Coyote Mountains to the south.

And this is the tall, tall sagebrush - or, whatever it is. It's not like any sagebrush I know - it's about the size of a manzanita - but it's sort of the same color and the woody part looks the same. I need to get a plant guidebook. Regardless of what it was, it gave me some wonderful shade while I sat down and practiced my navigational skills and ate a sandwich and an orange I'd packed. Let me tell you this - if ever you have had the opportunity to eat a juicy orange on a hot desert day, you'll know what I mean when I say it's about as close to heaven as you can get.

And then, at about mile 9, I started into Arroyo Seco del Diablo. I wasn't sure I'd ever get there - I couldn't see anything that even suggested a canyon from where I'd eaten lunch, which is why I was trying to practice my map-reading - I was panicking. I was convinced I was lost in the desert.

Believe it or not, Arroyo Seco del Diablo was quite a bit different than Arroyo Tapiado. For one thing, it was sort of a different color - the rock walls were more orangey than gray. And for another thing, the rocks were much smoother - there was even this collection of rocks that looked like they'd been sculpted into shapes. My picture-taking skills do it no justice - and neither, I suspect, does the harsh light of the desert - but these are them. Some of them looked like little faces, which would probably have been creepy in the right circumstances.

And, of course, there's the geology. I'm not exactly a geology whiz, but I find it fascinating nonetheless. Not to mention, how blue is that sky?

More geology... Mom? Dad?

And here was a "tributary" of the canyon. It went on for a while - I'd have liked to explore more, but as I said, I wanted to do some general reconnaissance before I did too many side-trips. Although now that I have a general feel for the lay of the land, I'm half-tempted to go back, like, tomorrow to do some more exploring. I just can't get enough of the desert. Although I suppose, realistically, that will have to wait until after I do some "real life" things. Like, you know...homework.

Oh! And the beetles! Arroyo Seco del Diablo will forever be known to me as Dead Beetle Canyon. I swear, there were thousands of dead stinkbugs. It was like a stinkbug cemetery in there! I didn't see any alive, just tons and tons of dead buggers. How weird is that? I mean honestly, there had to have been thousands of them.

And another geological oddity. Or, I don't know, maybe not an oddity. I don't think I've ever seen it, so it seemed odd to me...I have no idea what this is. It was like round, circular rocks just sort of "stuck" into the canyon walls.

And this is what they looked like up close - almost as if they'd been broken in half.

Near the mouth of the canyon, there were manzanita groves and what the guidebook called "a small seep" in the floor of the canyon. It did get kind of soggy here, which was weird, considering it's, you know, desert and all. I wasn't expecting it, and when I took a cross-country detour, my foot sank into bog-like ground. I have to admit, it sort of scared me.

And then, after about 15 miles, I cut across some foothills cross-country, made it back to the road, and walked another mile or so back to my car. At this point, the wind had really started to kick up, and I was hot, and my feet were tired, and I had sunscreen in my eyes and dirt in my hair, so when I saw this sight - my little trooper of a car sitting and waiting patiently where I'd left it - I couldn't have been happier.

Needless to say, it was an amazing trip. I'll definitely be doing it again soon. And, aside from its length, not a hard one - there weren't many hills, and the ones that were there were pretty tiny. If it weren't so far away, I'd make this a regular thing, because I'm thinking it's my new favorite hike. (I know, I know, I say that every time...but this one wins just by virtue of the fact that it's desert, and I could pretend I was "home" for a day.)

* * *

Imitosis

He's keeping busy
Yeah he's bleeding stones
With his machinations and his palindromes
It was anything but hear the voice
Anything but hear the voice
It was anything but hear the voice
That says that we're all basically alone

Poor Professor Pynchon had only good intentions
When he put his Bunsen burners all away
And turning to a playground in a Petri dish
Where single cells would swing their fists
At anything that looks like easy prey
In this nature show that rages every day
It was then he heard his intuition say

We were all basically alone
And despite what all his studies had shown
That what's mistaken for closeness
Is just a case of mitosis
And why do some show no mercy
While others are painfully shy
Tell me doctor can you quantify
He just wants to know the reason why
The reason why

Why do they congregate in groups of four
Scatter like a billion spores
And let the wind just carry them away
How can kids be so mean
Our famous doctor tried to glean
As he went home at the end of the day
In this nature show that rages every day
It was then he heard his intuition say

We were all basically alone
Despite what all his studies had shown
That what's mistaken for closeness
Is just a case of mitosis
Sure fatal doses of malcontent through osmosis
And why do some show no mercy
While others are painfully shy
Tell me doctor, can you quantify
The reason why?

Sometimes I feel lighter than the air

2007-10-07T18:50:00.001-07:00

* * *

Today I hiked at Cuyamaca Rancho State Park - more specifically, the Harvey Moore Trail (then cut over to the East Side Trail, because I'm gangster like that). It was, by far, the coolest hike I've done since I've been here - I hit just about every type of landscape imaginable, and was alone except for two bikers, two hikers, and, of course, the wildlife. There were six wild turkeys, three tiny snakes (and yes, I had to swallow some serious flight instincts to keep going after seeing the first one, let alone the second two), two redtail hawks, and a pretty white owl. If I'd had a few more species in there, I'd have had my own SoCal 12 Days of Christmas song!

Anyway, so I started off at the Sweetwater Parking lot, which is on the shoulder of Highway 79 between Descanso and Julian. I got there early enough that traffic wasn't a problem - it would've been later on, since it's a two-lane, winding highway, and it's apple season in Julian, the apple pie capital of the state.

But anyway. So you start off by going pretty steadily - but gradually - uphill for about two miles. It's a pretty well-maintained trail, being a state park and all, but I only saw two other hikers - a pair of guys who I played leapfrog with when I stopped to take pictures and they stopped to look at maps, until they realized they weren't on the trail they wanted to be. After that, I had it almost entirely to myself. There'd been a fire a few years ago, so lots of the trees looked like this - totally charred, except for the "new" growth coming in. This picture does it no justice, but it was a really spectacular contrast between the black and the bright green, and the bluest sky I've seen in a while.

This is what the view looked like from the top of the first little hill. It was a gorgeous fall day - super windy, though. There were gusts up to 45 mph, according to the news. But it felt good to me, if only because it was different than the "sunny June afternoon" climate I'm used to living in 24/7.

This is what the trail looked like - like I said, pretty well-maintained. I saw lots of horse hoofprints too, but didn't see any horseback riders until I was back at the parking lot at the end.

And then, at about 2.5 miles, this is what you see. These grassy hillsides dotted with oaks are my absolute favorite California landscape. And it was really something today, with the wind blowing the grass and the hawks circling overhead.

Here's the view from about the middle of the saddle, and if you look really closely, you can see the ocean. It was that clear a day - which is saying something for southern California, because usually at this time of the morning there's either a marine layer covering it, or smog.

After you pass all the grasslands - that saddle I covered was called "East Mesa," although it's not exactly a mesa so much as it is a long hillside - you come to this primitive equestrian campground, Granite Springs. It has pipe corrals and hitching posts, and the cleanest campground bathrooms I've ever been in, ever. Seriously. Spotless.

And then maybe a mile past the campground you hit wooded conditions again. And, see, I got my fall colors! Sort of...I'll probably go back in a few weeks to see if the leaves have turned from greenish-yellow to yellowish-orange. Apparently fall comes late in this neck of the woods.

This was just a cool clearing - there were more pine trees up here than I'd expected, although at 4820 feet, I guess that's pretty typical. I'm not used to being at any significant elevation anymore.

And then the trail narrowed and winded around a bit more as you went into Harper Creek Canyon. It got pretty steep right after this - it was overgrown and there was a series of switchbacks that were pretty brutal on my knees.

And here's Harper "Creek." I say "Creek" instead of Creek because, well, there's no water. I'd been misled. But it was pretty cool geologically - you could definitely tell where the water had been flowing, because the rocks were so, so, so smooth, and there were actually sections of them that had been eroded entirely to look like they'd been man-made to hold water.

More of the canyon. Right after this, you cut back down to the "creek" bank, and while I was staring at a group of wild turkeys, I completely missed the signpost for my trail - I was supposed to leave the Harvey Moore Trail and hook up to the East Side Trail - and ended up doubling back when I found myself heading north instead of southwest like I should've been. No bother, though - it was such a nice day and such pretty scenery that I didn't mind the "side trip."

Once I finally got back onto the right trail, there was only a little less than two miles back to the parking lot. I passed by the park headquarters and Indian museum on the way there, but they looked pretty deserted, so I didn't stop.

Anyway, I remain convinced - no matter how cool the trail is - that the last two miles of any hike officially suck. This one just sort of paralleled Highway 79 for two miles, and got really bug-dusty to boot. Needless to say, after 10.5 miles of walking, shoes covered in black dust, and a shirt-sleeve that had definitely made contact with poison oak more than a couple times, I was ready for a shower.

Still, I'll definitely be exploring more of Cuyamaca. It's a 45-minute drive from my apartment, but really, it's so worth it. You get almost every California landscape there is - grassy hills, woodsy groves, chaparral-covered trails, mountain vistas, rocky canyons...if ever there were a reason to stay in southern California - which I assure you, there isn't - this would be it.

* * *

It's Great When We're Together

It's great when we're together
Sun or rain
I know that I can't live without you
But you're just like the weather
When you change
And you refrain to speak to me

Sometimes I feel lighter than the air
When you shine
You brighten up my day
Sometimes I feel lighter than the air
When you shine
You brighten up my day

It's great when we're together
Whether or never
It's the same
And I know I am not new to you
Got to be clever
Don't fool around with me I'll treat you good

Sometimes I feel lighter than the air
When you shine
When you shine
You brighten up my day
Sometimes I feel lighter than the air
It's great when we're together
You brighten up my day

It's great when we're together
Sun or rain
I know that I can't live without you
But you're just like the weather
When you change
And you refrain to speak to me

What about your mind does it shine?

2007-10-05T20:35:00.000-07:00

* * *

It's been a while, partly because I've been super busy being a real student and all, but mostly because I'm sort of a slacker. Wait, do those two go together? OK, I'm blaming it on being busy, because that sounds better.

* * *

Anyway, so I'm on a bike kick lately, and this week I took the Mule Hill Trail in Escondido. It actually starts at the same trailhead as the Bernardo Mountain hike I do so often, but instead of heading northwest, you head south-ish. Or something. I'm bad with directions.

It starts off as a wide enough road for vehicles (although they aren't allowed) and mainly flat. There are some historical signs along the way, too - apparently there were some battles in this area. If I knew more about history, I'd tell you about it, but since I don't, here's an interesting article, if you're so inclined.

Then it kind of winds by all these strawberry fields (and I always get that Beatles song stuck in my head as I'm passing, too) that smell so good I could just die - even when the strawberries have been picked and they're digging up the old plants, like they were this time, it still smells like strawberries. And the fields have these mansions overlooking them, which seems unfair when you consider the migrant workers who are picking the strawberries, but I like to think the mansion owners are hospitable and bring the workers lemonade on hot afternoons and pay them well and have parties for them. But, I'm sort of a daydreamer like that.

After that, it sort of heads out through some flatlands and over a creek. Then you make this stiff turn to the...east, maybe? It was kind of early when I was there, which is why it looks all shady - it was actually a beautiful day. But then again, aren't all days beautiful in California?

Then at about four miles in, it turns into a "real trail," by which I mean, it curves and is narrower - less of a road and more of, well, a trail. It's really pretty the whole way - one of the cooler trails I've taken in southern California, which is sort of surprising since it's not as remote as lots of the others I've tried. The trail starts looking like this, but I didn't take pictures of some of the best parts, because I was busy, you know, riding my bike and stuff.

And here's my trusty steed (oh yes, I've named it - Rocinante - you know, like Don Quixote's horse?) near the picnic area at about five miles, where the trail gets kind of rough. I turned around here this time like a big wuss, but next time I'm going to keep going past here. But a 10-mile trip was good for me this time - it was a nice jaunt without exhausting me! And when I do go again, I'll take better pictures, because these certainly don't do it justice.

* * *

Gone

Well look at all those fancy clothes
but these could keep us warm just like those
and what about your soul? is it cold?
is it straight from the mold and ready to be sold?
and cars and phones and diamond rings
bling bling
those are only removable things
and what about your mind does it shine or
are there things that concern you
more than your time

gone, going, gone
everything
gone
give a damn
gone, be the birds when they don't wanna sing
gone people
all awkward with their things
gone.

look at you out to make a deal
you try to be appealing,
but you lose your appeal
and what about those shoes you're in today
they'll do no good
on the bridges you've burnt along the way, oh
you were willing to sell anything
gone with your hurt
leave your footprints
and we'll shame them with our words
gone people
all careless and consumed
gone
gone going gone
everything gone,
give a damn
gone, be the birds when they don't wanna sing
gone people
all awkward with their things
gone.

If you don't understand him and he don't die young, he'll probably just ride away

2007-08-24T15:19:00.001-07:00

So my most recent - and only, lately, since school's back in session - expedition was up to my uncle's ranch near Carpinteria. I was there to ride my little orphan mare, Bonita - the love of my life, the apple of my eye, the reason my world turns and I wake up in the mornings. And, when she's misbehaving, the bane of my existence.

So I drove through L.A. on the 5 to the 101 through Ventura, which wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected, traffic-wise, because it was a Saturday morning. When I got into Carpinteria, I had a killer view of the smoke plume from the Zaca fire in Los Padres National Forest over the mountains. See that smoke? It's just a little to the left of the ranch at this angle - which was kind of an intimidating sight, considering it's the fourth-biggest fire in California history, and there's a ton of dry chapparal between it and the horses and mules they have up there. When we talked to the fire guys later though, they said it'd be at least two weeks before anyone needed to worry. Which was reassuring until you looked at the smoke again, or when you saw that on the map, the fire was only 10 miles away as the crow flies.

So this is the room I get to stay in while I'm there. It's super relaxing, because it's completely in the middle of nowhere (at least, as much "in the middle of nowhere" as you can get in California) on top of a mountain. All you can hear at night are crickets and the shuffling of the dogs sleeping outside your window. And don't think you've seen stars, or the moon, until you've seen it from a mountain on the west coast. The only better skies I've seen are Nevada skies, and this is definitely a close second.

And this is the view I wake up to in the mornings. How much better can it get? Mountains, Carpinteria, and the ocean. The only thing that keeps it from being even more awesome is the fact that the fire was sort of messing up the sky. On a clear day though, you can see forever, past the beach to the oil rigs and then some.

And this is the shower you use after a long hot dusty ride. Yeah, that bucket. But it has hot water, and you get frogs for company, which is kind of a trip. It's actually much nicer than "showering with a bucket" sounds like it would be.

And this is my baby!! Doesn't she look sweet, all dressed up and waiting patiently? And after 6 months of not being ridden, all she left me with was a bruised calf (which I half-blame on my little cousin's mule anyway), a blister on my left ring finger, and a very, very sore butt. But really, the butt thing wasn't her fault at all - it was mine, for not having ridden, especially on the trail, in ages.

And this is the country we (my uncle's girlfriend and their son, my nephew) rode through on our way down the canyon. We rode past this, down the steep canyon trail to a creek bed where the scent of a dead bull got the horses all crazy (and we had to tie them up and go see the carnage), past an old rock quarry (the rocks from which were allegedly used to build the Santa Barbara Mission), through a neighbor's orange grove (where we picked the juiciest, sweetest oranges you will ever taste to get us back up the hill), past the 150 (where Bonita didn't even flick an ear at the sound of the motorcycle crew that rode by), and back up the road to the ranch. I'd have taken more pictures, but my camera batteries died.

Obviously, I'm a very lucky girl. There were cold beers in the cooler when we got back from our rides, a mountain breeze on the hottest part of the ride, and juicy oranges just when you thought you'd never make it back up the hill. The only bummer was the drive - and it wasn't as bad as it could've been, since I went through on a Saturday morning and back on a Sunday evening. Either way, it was worth it - I got to be a cowgirl again and escape my parking woes and homework and noisy neighbors for a while.

* * *

Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

Cowboys ain't easy to love, and they're harder to hold
They'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lone Star belt buckles and old faded Levis
And each night begins a new day
If you don't understand him, and he don't die young, he'll probably just ride away

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let them pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
'Cos they never stay home, and they're always alone
Even with someone they love

Cowboys like smoky old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
Them that don't know him won't like him, and them that do sometimes won't know how to take him
He ain't wrong
He's just different
But his pride won't let him to do things to make you think he's right

Shook the blues out of your hair

2007-07-27T16:12:00.000-07:00

Oh, if I'd had my camera yesterday! I hiked Bernardo Mountain, which has become my go-to hike that I do about once a week when I want more than my daily four-mile city walk but don't have the time/money/gas to drive far enough out of town to another peak - Bernardo is the closest by far.

But anyway, I hiked Bernardo Mountain yesterday, and it was the first time I've done it in the afternoon (which turned out to be a bad idea because I ran out of water halfway up so was exhausted by the time I summited, then I came home with a gnarly sunburn with weird lines from my Camelbak and the tank top I was wearing). But it was so clear I could see the Pacific! From 35 miles inland!

* * *

Also, in the spirit of moving soon, I took a few pictures of my apartment in a rare moment of cleanliness. This is the living room, complete with the wine rack Dad made me and the peacock feathers Mom collected from the peacock for me!

And no apartment would be complete without a liquor cabinet (minus the "cabinet" - more like a "liquor shelf," I suppose) and martini glass set!

And this is my "yard." It's actually the alleyway between my cottage apartment - that door in the kitchen leads to this - and my neighbors. And it looks much cuter in person, I promise.

And I'll take some of the bedroom once it's not covered in the remnants of my unpacking-from-camping project. As you can see, I don't exactly get a lot of light, which is one of the reasons I'm moving. Plus, it's super expensive for one person. But I love it, mostly - it's an awesome location and a quiet, safe neighborhood and really central to everywhere I need to go. But...my new place will be just as awesome, I'm sure!

* * *

Beautiful Way

Searchlights on the skyline
Just looking for a friend
Who's gonna love my baby
When she's gone around the bend
Egyptian bells are ringing
When it's her birthday
Sweet nothin', I'm talking about you
There's a hurricane blowing your way

Ooh such a beautiful way
To break your heart
Ooh such a beautiful way
To break my heart
There's someone calling your name
It's driving you insane

You were wearing that stained raincoat
And your umbrella was a tangled mess
You were washed up on the glittering shoals
Looking for another crime to confess
You bribed yourself
Out of a place in the sun
But you had some change to spare
So you said you wanna spend it on me
And shook the blues out of your hair

Ooh such a beautiful way
To break your heart
Ooh such a beautiful way
To break my heart
There's someone calling your name
You're gonna miss that train

What about your mind does it shine?

2007-07-25T13:01:00.000-07:00

So, I drove up Highway 1 from San Diego to Montana de Oro State Park, right outside Morro Bay, on Sunday - and no matter how many times I see Morro Bay, I always fall in love with it all over again.

My biggest mistake, though, was trying to cross LA along the coast on the 1 instead of going straight up the 5. I thought I'd avoid traffic, because typically the 5 is an absolute nightmare (it took me three hours to get through LA on the way home!), but it turned out, Highway 1 is actually just a bunch of city roads along the South Bay of LA, which is, as my little guidebook called it, "Tarantino-esque," a nicer saying than I would've used (like "run-down" or "industrial" or "shithole"). And I hit every red light possible, I swear to you. It ended up taking me about three hours anyway, and I was too scared to stop for gas.

Outside LA, though, I hit Laguna Beach, which was, well, pretty touristy and bleached. Then I went through Malibu and Ventura and Santa Barbara. I love Ventura and Santa Barbara - in fact, I spent lots of summers there with my godparents and uncle when I was growing up. Malibu, though? Ick.

So yeah, the first night, I stayed at Montana de Oro State Park. It was a lot of this, which I liked - there's a huge difference between northern and southern California, obviously:

This is the ranger station near my campsite. It wasn't that late when I pulled in - maybe 6:30 or 7 - but the fog made it feel like it was much later.

So I curled up in my brand-new tent (thanks, Mom!) with my new Harry Potter book and read until I fell asleep.

Then the next morning I got up early to eat breakfast (fruit and trail mix!) at Morro Rock, one of my all-time favorite places in the whole world.

And I watched the surfers for an hour or so. It looked terribly cold, but there were lots of people out there, even kids splashing in the waves.

So, then I left Morro Bay, resisting a tempting trip to Wavelengths (this surf shop I'm in love with), and traveled up north to...Hearst Castle! This is "the guest house" - I'm not even kidding. I assumed it was the main house, but no. I wouldn't mind being a guest of his, I guess.

This is the pool - revamped not once, not twice, but three times because it wasn't "suitable" for his wife and kids and guests. It looks like something you'd see in Greece to me - and I love love love all the statues he had.

But my favorite was the indoor pool - pictures hardly do it justice. Those tiles? That's real gold leaf inside glass, I kid you not. It was like being inside of a constellation.

After the tour, I didn't have much time to do anything but drive to my next stop, Salt Point State Park. I went through Big Sur, Half Moon Bay, Santa Cruz, and San Francisco, and finally got there just before it got dark. It was hard to get good pictures because I was in a hurry, there was traffic, and the lighting wasn't awesome, but it was basically country like this. And warmer than it looks - I only froze when I woke up in the morning and had to pack my tent up in the rain and wind!

And then I got up early, bought some Chai at a little coffee shop in a little town, and took off for San Diego on Tuesday morning. I took the 5 back, so there aren't any scenic pictures, but this is one I took off the 1 right before I turned off of it. That's the ocean underneath those clouds, and it was even prettier in person.

And then, I made awesome time on the 5 through the central valley, but got stuck in traffic in L.A. for three hours at rush hour Tuesday night. Ugh. Not what I wanted to do after 9 hours of driving.

But the trip was so worth it.

* * *

Gone

Well look at all those fancy clothes
but these could keep us warm just like those
and what about your soul? is it cold?
is it straight from the mold and ready to be sold?
and cars and phones and diamond rings
bling bling
those are only removable things
and what about your mind does it shine or
are there things that concern you
more than your time

gone, going, gone
everything
gone
give a damn
gone, be the birds when they don't wanna sing
gone people
all awkward with their things
gone.

look at you out to make a deal
you try to be appealing,
but you lose your appeal
and what about those shoes you're in today
they'll do no good
on the bridges you've burnt along the way, oh
you were willing to sell anything
gone with your hurt
leave your footprints
and we'll shame them with our words
gone people
all careless and consumed
gone
gone going gone
everything gone,
give a damn
gone, be the birds when they don't wanna sing
gone people
all awkward with their things
gone.

There's something in the air we're breathing

2007-07-17T10:54:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, while I should have been studying for my Entertainment Law final, I hiked Cowles Mountain, in the Mission Trails Regional Park, kind of near SDSU. I was planning on going to Pyles Peak (Cowles is sort of the "almost there" peak on the same trail), but Cowles Mountain came first, and by the time I climbed it, my academic conscience struck so I decided to save it for another day.

It was actually quite crowded - I mean, I probably saw a good 50 people besides me, and this is on a 3 1/2-mile trail. I guess the fact that it's pretty much in the city accounts for that, although it was a Monday morning, so who knows.

Anyway, it was sort of a stiff hike - definitely a workout, which I wasn't really expecting, considering it's basically a city park. This is the view from about a mile up - like I said, it's pretty much in the city, which is convenient for the days I can't/don't feel like driving too far to get to a good spot.

This is the view in the other direction from the same spot - there was about a mile and a half left to get to that peak, and that mile and a half felt like five.

This is the plaque at the top of the peak - I love seeing these things for some reason.

And this, of course, is the view from the top - actually, that peak (underneath me!) is Pyles Peak, which is where I'm headed next time. It's about another mile or so to get there from where I'm standing, which isn't too bad - plus, it looks much easier than the Cowles trail!

So, that was the "little hike" I did yesterday. I'm planning on a few bigger ones once classes are over, though - my peak-bagging streak continues!

* * *

TV Gods

Must be the water, and it
Must be the water, and it
Must be the water, 'cause it
Must be the water, and it
Must be the water, yeah
Must be the water

And there's,
Something in the air we're breathing
It's in the air we're breathing
'It's in the TV,' he said
'It's in the TV,' he said

There are TV Gods
There are TV Gods

It's in the offices
And it's in the cars we're driving
It's in the offices
And wash the car you're driving

'It'll get your eyes,' he says
'So watch your eyes,' he says
'It's in the TV,' he said
'It's in the TV,' he said

There are TV Gods
There are TV gods

There are TV Gods
There are TV Gods

They want to keep you numb
They know you'll stay and come
They know you'll turn them on
They know you'll turn them on

They want to keep you numb
They know you'll stay and come
They know you'll turn them on
They know you'll turn them on

There are TV Gods
There are TV Gods

'It's in the TV,' he said
'It's in the TV,' he said
'Turn off the TVs,' he said
'Turn off the TVs,' he said

There are TV Gods
There are TV Gods

Travel like gypsies living off anything

2007-07-13T16:45:00.001-07:00

So today I hiked Boden Canyon, sort of between Escondido and Ramona. It's an 11-mile out-and-back, and even though you only gain 500' in elevation, you're constantly going up and down small hills, so it's a workout regardless of the elevation change!

This is the trailhead - you park off of Highway 78 in an unmarked "lot" that's really nothing more than a turnaround - there wouldn't be room for more than three, maybe four cars if you all wanted to be able to get back out again.

And this is the view from just past the first curve in the trail - a daunting sight in hindsight, considering I went all the way to that very, very, very back mountain over on the left-hand side of the picture.

About half a mile in I noticed this - so for you geology people, what is it? My first reaction whenever I see aberrations in rocks is to say "fault," but I honestly haven't a clue what I'm talking about, especially considering the way it sort of twists around instead of staying in a straight line.

After a mile and a half or so I came to a dry creek bed - the guide described it as Santa Ysabel Creek, but it was completely dry. Not surprising, I suppose, considering it's the middle of July in southern California. Regardless, it was deep sand, which was kind of a pain to walk in.

This is just some of that SoCal scenery that I like so much. The only problem with this portion of the hike was that it was hot without shade. I mean, it was toasty enough when I was walking under shade trees. The only saving grace was that it got really - and I mean really - windy after about an hour of hiking. It was this hot, dry wind, which doesn't sound pleasant, but when the heat's radiating back at you from the trail, you'll take anything.

This is what we call "a creek" in the desert.

Then the scenery changed really abruptly from desert to wetland/marsh - but only for a little bit. This is part of the ecological preserve, I suppose - it was really green, and the wind turned much cooler right here, which was kind of cool.

More Steinbeckian scenery.

This is the sign for the Boden Canyon Ecological Preserve - there must be another way to come at the trail, because this is facing away from the direction I was coming, and it was almost near where I stopped and turned back.

I think these are eucalyptus trees - I started seeing a ton of wildlife around here - deer, squirrels, the biggest lizards I've ever seen, tons of hawks and other birds of prey, and huge anthills!

If you look really carefully here, you can see two deer lying down - actually, that's a lie. You can only see their ears. It was strange that they didn't move, considering people hunt here during certain seasons.

Anyway, it was a hot, dry hike, but had some really cool scenery changes - and was definitely a workout! By the time I got back to my car, all I wanted was a huge glass of lemonade and a full blast of A/C. I didn't see another person - or, really, see any signs of another person - the entire hike. And it was a Friday in July. Maybe everyone else knows of somewhere cooler to take a mid-summer traipse!

* * *

Also, I made my neighbor cookies 'n creme cupcakes for her birthday this week - they turned out so so so so so good, and it was all I could do not to eat them all myself!

These are them before I frosted them, next to my beautiful bouquet of lavender! And Gracie napping on the futon.

And these, of course, are the frosted ones, the way I delivered to them. The picture's not that great, because you can't see that the frosting has little pieces of cookie in it. And now I have a huge cookie craving.

* * *

We have got no dough at all
Got a jar full of pennies
That don't amount to any
Thing, thing, thing

These are the melodies
With simple harmonies we sing
We sing of the hardship life brings
It brings, it brings, it brings, it brings

These are the songs that we sing
We sing
These are the songs that I sing
We sing
These are the songs that we sing
We sing

These are the songs that I sing
To make the day better
And we have got no home at all
Travel like gypsies living off any
Thing, thing, thing

These are the melodies
With simple harmonies we sing
We sing of the hardship life brings
It brings, it brings, it brings, it brings

Slow down everyone, you're movin' too fast

2007-07-08T10:54:00.000-07:00

So I tried to hike El Capitan (not the rock face in Yosemite, the open space preserve in Southern California) on Friday, but as it turned out, the trailhead was closed for construction on Highway 67 so I couldn't get in, and there was nowhere else to leave my car. So, I drove an hour northeast, in an attempt to hike another trail that my handy little guidebook said might be interesting, but couldn't even find the turnoff.

So. I spent three hours driving through mountain highways, which really isn't such a bad way to spend a Friday morning, except for the traffic. And the part where I was really amped about hiking.

On the bright side, I saw some really really beautiful scenery. Such as a ton of orange tree groves. It made me want fresh juice, so when I got home I made some.

And there were these bushes everywhere. I love, love, love them - they're all over the place down here, and I want to know what they are. When I have my own house, I swear it's going to be just covered in these things. Assuming, I guess, I live in southern California.

* * *

I'm making my neighbor cookies 'n cream cupcakes for her birthday. I missed her barbecue last night because I was feeling antisocial and wanted to get up early today for the Farmer's Market, where I got a lovely lavender bouquet that makes my apartment smell good all over, and then this hike:

It's in the Elfin Forest Recreational Reserve, near Escondido. It's something like 13 miles of trails, which is pretty good considering it's a.) free, b.) less than 45 minutes from my apartment near downtown, c.) diverse - you can see desert, ocean, city, and Lake Hodges all on the same hike, and d.) as tough as you want it to be.

This is the beginning of the trail - obviously it's well-marked. In fact, it was pretty crowded, although considering it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I shouldn't have been surprised. Plus, the "June Gloom" has overstayed its welcome closer to the coast, including downtown, so if you want some sunshine, you really have to go inland.

So, I took a right instead of a left at the very beginning and discovered that my very-well-marked trail dead-ended. Well, kind of. Into this sign. But the trail kept going, which made me want to rebel and follow it, but since the ranger seemed to have a pretty strong presence and an even stronger authority complex, I decided against it. For today. But seriously, who does that? Who lets you walk half a mile on a trail without warning that it's going to just end like this?

So I turned back, made a left instead of a right, crossed a creek, and started up the real trail, called, appropriately enough, "The Way Up Trail." My hopes were high at the beginning that it would be a nice, shady trek to the top, because look.

But my hopes were dashed when I came out of the shade and into this. Which I actually kind of think is prettier, because you can see further and more and I'm sort of a desert rat anyway...but still, it was hot. And I don't mean, like, it was kind of hot. I mean it was F-ing Hot.

This was the view from about halfway up. That's Escondido, I think, or part of it. Just when I thought I was going to die from the heat, I got to this point, and the sea breeze hit my back and I swear I have never felt anything so awesome in all my life.

And then, right before my camera died completely, I got to the top. This is Lake Hodges, or the top of it - I think it's dammed up here, and there's also a part of it that's much lower, because this is quite near the top of the peak. Anyway, the picture looks a lot more monochromatic than it did in real life, probably because there was a bit of a haze in the background. The water, though, was so so so blue - bluer than I've seen the ocean, I think. And there was the most beautiful breeze blowing through here. It's a shame that my camera died though, because the view from up here was killer. I guess that's just an excuse to hike it again later, though!

* * *
Brushfire Fairytales

Brushfire fairytales
Itsy bitsy diamond wells
Big fat hurricanes
Yellow bellied given names
Well shortcuts can slow you down
And in the end we're bound
To rebound off of we

Well dust off your thinking caps
Solar powered plastic plants
Pretty pictures of things we ate
We are only what we hate
But in the long run we have found
Silent films are full of sound
Inaudibly free

Slow down everyone
You're moving too fast
Frames can't catch you when
You're moving like that

Inaudible melodies
Serve narrational strategies
Unobtrusive tones
Help to notice nothing but the zone
Of visual relevancy
Frame-lines tell me what to see
Chopping like an ax
Or maybe Einstein should just relax

Slow down everyone
You're moving too fast
Frames can't catch you when
You're moving like that

Well Plato's cave is full of freaks
Demanding refunds for the things they've seen
I wish they could believe
In all the things that never made the screen
And just slow down everyone
You're moving too fast
Frames can't catch you when
You're moving like that
Slow down everyone
You're moving too fast
Frames can't catch you when
You're moving like that

Summertime and the livin' is easy

2007-07-04T17:45:00.001-07:00

So I went back to Nevada for a long pre-4th weekend. We spent the first day or so in Winnemucca, where I got a ridiculous set of blisters hiking Bloody Shins, then headed to Tonopah for a fireworks show at The Base. I'm still not sure what "The Base" actually is, because even after I asked at least 357 times for some clarification, all I got was, "they do some special ops here." Nobody seemed to know what branch of the military was involved, what "special ops" consists of, who was in charge, or how we got invited, but.

Before we hit the fireworks show, we drove out to "The Property,"where Dad's company is doing some work, and Dad and Little Brother male-bonded. Too bad for them, they missed the fake-chicken salad Mom and I were devouring back at the pickup. And did we devour that salad.

They did, though, bring us this little guy. I haven't seen a horny toad in years, I swear to you.

Abby did some climbing too. She's got mad skillz. You know, four legs and all.

This is pretty much Tonopah, or at least the gist of it. Some old mining equipment and pretty skies. In fact, their new campaign is having "the darkest skies in the country." For star-watching and stuff.

The next morning, after the fireworks, we piled into the pickup. This is how we rode - all four of us - for 38 hours. OK, 38 hours is an exaggeration - it was more like 8 - but it felt like much more, considering Mom and I had about ten square inches of leg room between the two of us. That green blanket came to be known as "My Germ Factory" because I had a massive summer cold and was cuddled up with it most of the drive. And those Tupperware containers are holding the remnants of the shortcakes I made for the barbecue we ended up not attending. We had lots of leftovers, considering I'd made enough for 50 people, and only three ended up eating it. But who can complain about leftover cake? Not I.

We'd planned on heading straight back to the 'Mucc, but since it was so hot we decided a drive through the desert was in order instead. We headed to Rachel, Nevada - the nearest town to Area 51, made famous by such films as Independence Day. And probably before that, but.

This is pretty much The Town - this motel/diner/bar/gift shop called The Little AleInn.

When we went inside, it was like I'd died and gone to Tourist Heaven. Seriously. I was the happiest gawker on the planet.

This is the bar. Kitschy, yes? If I had never seen any of this, I couldn't have died complete. I kid you not.

So after we left, we saw The Artist Formerly Known As The Black Mailbox, which is now The Be-Stickered Mailbox, then let the dogs out to pee on this lonely, lonely road headed to Area 51. Like, the real Area 51.

But it was too hot for the dogs' feet, and they jumped back in as soon as they'd gotten out of the pickup, so that ended as soon as it had begun. There were some cool Joshua trees, though.

And then we started The Long Drive Home. These were some hills that looked like giant teeth to me, but apparently not to everyone else, because they made me sound like an insane person as soon as I said it.

There are trees in the desert. See? And ice cream too - we stopped for The Best Soft-Serve Ice Cream Cones Ever in Austin, which totally made my day. My week. My month. My life.

There's also water in the desert. This is The Mighty Humboldt River. Or, just the Humboldt River. Rumor has it, it's the longest river in North America, but it's so twisty it doesn't get the credit for it. Or something.

And, well, that was the trip, pretty much.

After that, I flew out of Reno and am now back in The Whale's Vagina studying hard. Or, you know, not so hard. And planning a killer trip for after classes are over.

* * *

Summertime

Summertime and the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
Oh your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'
So hush little baby, don't you cry

One of these mornings
You're going to rise up singing
Then you'll spread your wings
And you'll take to the sky
But till that morning
There's a nothin' can harm you
With daddy and mammy standin' by.

Isn't that your oil in the sea

2007-06-25T10:03:00.001-07:00

So, I tried to hike Hot Springs Mountain on Friday, which is, allegedly, the highest peak in San Diego County.

The drive up was beautiful - I went through San Ysabel, and then through some cool central-valley-looking scenery, and then through the desert. It was almost two hours from my apartment near downtown to the actual trailhead (or what I thought was the trailhead, anyway).

Here's a windshield-shot. One of these days, I'll be a "real" photographer and give a go at something more than point-and-shooting.

So, after I turned off, the road changed from paved to dirt - with no warning, which is strange for California. And there was construction going on - but only about three guys, just soaking the dirt and moving it around - which is also strange for California. And then past the construction, there were about three completely empty campgrounds - which is also strange for California, especially considering it was a Friday in June. And then, past those, I ended up just parking by an old, rusty water trough because it looked like the road was turning into more of a trail. There wasn't really an option to go up what looked like the highest peak, at least from where I was, so I chose the one to the south.

So here's the view from where I parked.

This is the trail I think I was supposed to come up, on the east side of the mountain. I'm not sure how I was supposed to get there, though - I followed the directions my hiking book spelled out for me, but something seemed very wrong. And, once I got to the top, I found that that trail went up what looked like a higher peak - the real Hot Springs Mountain. I'd hiked the peak next to the highest peak in the county. Sigh.

This, though, was the view from the top of the peak I hiked. It was worth all the weirdness in the world. I'm not positive, but I think those furthest mountains are the southern Sierra Nevadas.

This picture doesn't do it justice, but the entire trail was, like, sparkling. I'm not sure if it was mica or pyrite or what (in fact, I'm surprised I even remembered those as being two "shiny-rock" options), but it was quite pretty.
So after I'd hiked up - it only took about 45 minutes, which is another sign to me that I definitely chose the wrong trail, considering it was supposed to be a 5-1/2 mile hike - I drove back down, and noticed this abandoned house/trailer/structure. Inside were a bunch of those old seats that are connected at the bottom, like you'd find in an old DMV or something, and the whole thing looked abandoned but not all that abandoned, and so I started psyching myself out about that movie The Hills Have Eyes, and decided I'd like to bring a friend, or a dog, the next time I came out.

Anyway, it was a cool trip anyway, if for nothing else than to say I tried. I'm going to try to hike the real Hot Springs Mountain one of these days for sure, though. My new pursuit has become peak-bagging, so I've got a lot of work to do.

And, I'm going to hike Mt. Whitney next summer.

* * *

In unrelated news, I made cupcakes yesterday from my new favorite baking cookbook, Vegan Cupcakes Take Over The World!

I made the Sexy Low-Fat Vanilla ones, and I made mini-versions of them, plus froze the majority of the batch so I wouldn't be tempted to binge in the middle of the night!

This is what they looked like straight out of the oven.

And this is what one of them looked like after my (half-successful) attempt at "decorating" it. I basically just put some confectioners' icing on it, toppped it with a strawberry slice, then topped that with another dollop of icing. They tasted much better than the pictures make them look!

* * *

I'm going back home this weekend, to visit my family before Mom and Little Brother leave for Africa. I've dropped one class - the boring one - so I've got more time now. I shouldn't, because I should be working, but...well, work is sort of for suckers, right?

* * *

I'm visiting Zion National Park in a few weeks. I haven't been since I was a little kid, and I hardly remember it.

* * *

Excuse Me Mister

Oh - excuse me mister
Do you have the time,
Or are you so important that it stands still for you?
Excuse me mister
Want you lend me your ear,
Or are you not only blind but do you not hear?
Excuse me mister but isn't that your oil in the sea,
And the pollution in the air mister,
Whose could that be?

So, excuse me mister
But I'm a mister too.
And you're givin' mister a bad name,
Mister like you.
And, I'm taking the mister from out in front of your name,
'Cause it's a mister like you that puts the rest of us to shame.
It's a mister like you that puts the rest of us to shame.

And I've seen enough,
Oh - I've seen enough,
I've seen enough to know that I've seen too much.

Excuse me mister
Can't you see the children dying?
You say that you can't help them,
Mister you're not even trying.
Excuse me mister
Just take a look around.
Oh, mister just look up and you will,
You'll see it's coming down.
Oh, excuse me mister but I'm, I'm a mister too.
And you're givin' mister a bad name,
Mister like you.
So, I'm taking the mister from out in front of your name,
'Cause it's a mister like you that puts the rest of us to shame.
It's a mister like you, puts the rest of us to shame.

And I've seen enough,
I've seen en..., I've seen en...,
I've seen enough to know that I've seen too much.
I've seen enough,
Oh - I've seen enough to know that I've seen too much.

'Cause mister when you're rattling on heaven's gate.
By then it is too late.
'Cause mister when you get there,
They don't ask what you saved.
All they'll want to know mister is what you gave.
So, excuse me mister
But I'm a mister too.
And you're givin' mister a bad name,
Mister like... you.

So, I'm taking the mister from out in front of your name,
'Cause it's a mister like you puts the rest of us to shame.
Mister like you, puts the rest of us to shame.

There were so many fewer questions

2007-06-05T17:06:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up early enough to do yoga, go for a long walk, get my homework finished, clean the house, and cook a "real" lunch (steamed veggies, not exactly gourmet, but by "real," I mean, "not a granola bar") all before class at 1:00. Pretty impressive for a girl who, once upon a time, wouldn't have even thought about opening her eyes before 10:00 a.m., yes?

This is where I walked, through Maple Canyon. The loop I took was about four miles, which is pretty much perfect for a weekday morning jaunt - an hour of exercise, hills and everything, without having to drive to a "real" hiking spot. The pictures aren't great because it was gray and damp, and my camera batteries were running out so I had to click before it died, which happened about five seconds after I turned it on. Anyway, this is the trail:

It doesn't look like much, but it's a nice respite because it's in the middle of the city, right between downtown and Hillcrest, two of the most populated spots in the city. This is the 1st Avenue bridge, that runs right over it:

This is on 1st Avenue, right after the bridge. Isn't it weird the way the trees are completely purple? They've been like that now for like two or three weeks. They smell divine, too - I'm not sure what kind they are, but I'm definitely going to have to find out:

* * *

So then I had my first Entertainment Law class. I think I like the professor - he's a total southern-good-old-boy-shmoozer type, but there's something really likeable about him. And I'm not generally one for liking southern-good-old-boy-shmoozer types. He did, however, assign us 150 pages of reading for Thursday, so I may change my tune before too long. Then again, he also let us out half an hour early and has some interesting stories about the years he spent as an NFL attorney and a Fox Studios attorney, so.

* * *

And in other news, today the universe imploded on itself when the following was announced:

Salem, AB (GNC) - The Ku Klux Klan, more commonly known as the KKK, has become infamous for its crusades against blacks, Jews, and until now - homosexuals. But when a Grand Wizard, the highest ranked member of the KKK, came out of the closet last week and announced his homosexuality, some were baffled while others were supportive.

* * *

Holes To Heaven

The air was more than human
And the heat was more than hungry
And the cars were square and spitting diesel fumes
The bulls were running wild
because they're big and mean and sacred
and the children playing cricket with no shoes
The morning we woke up man
To a seven-hour drive
Well there we were stuck in Port Blair
Where boats break and children stare

And there were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to
heaven, mmm
Man and there were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to
heaven, mmm

Disembarking from the port
with no mistakes of any so
Moving southly engine running smooth
Officials were quite friendly
once we drown them w/ our sweet talk
and we bribed them w/ our cigerettes and booze
The next morning we woke up man w/ the sunrise to right
moving back north to port blair
where boats break and children stare

And there were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to
heaven, mmm
and there were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to
heaven, mmm

We drew our own constellations

2007-06-03T17:35:00.001-07:00

I hiked Bernardo Mountain today. It was actually my third try at hiking it - not because I couldn't do it the first two times, but because I didn't even start down the right trail the first time, and ended up hiking Mule Hill Trail, around some strawberry fields and through some marshlands, and because the second time I missed the turnoff and ended up going around Bernardo Mountain. You know, like, around the base. Which was okay, as it turns out, because both were really cool hikes anyway. And I'd forgotten my camera both times, so.

Today, though, I got there. I went up the right trail, didn't miss my turn, and made it up to the peak. It was pretty populated at the get-go - I saw about a million bikers on the main trail down near the base - but I was alone on the way up, at the top (which was meditative - I could see I-15, and clear to the ocean, and it was quiet except for the birds and the whir of the freeway), and all the way down again.

Here are some pictures of the way up.

A "tunnel of trees," as an 8-year old wrote in the guest book at the top. The chapparal here was so thick and so high it was like walking through a forest - and I barely had to duck my head.

The view from what I guess is the northeast (?) side, about halfway up the mountain. These houses are incredible - you can't see from this picture, but they're all at least three, some four, stories, and have pools and big, rolling lawns. It's like The O.C., but in Escondido.

This is Lake Hodges, from maybe 4/5 of the way up. It looked really, really green today. I'm not sure if it always looks like that, or it's just this time of year or the sun angle or whatever. Either way, it was an amazing view.

This is the guest book at the top. The mailbox says "Mountain Mail," and it's sort of a tradition for people to add a little blurb in the journal. Some people talked about how many times they'd been there, how the weather was, how long it had taken them to get up there. Some wrote something meaningful, some wrote something funny, some just signed it. There were notes from kids, from a 71-year-old man, and from a couple of girls who'd ridden up on bikes with Coronas on Cinco de Mayo. (By the way, I'd like to hang out with those chicks! Girl power indeed, because it's not an easy trail to hike, let alone bike.)

There's really no story behind this one - it's just a tree near the turnoff. But it was so typically California I had to post it. It made me want to come home and read Steinbeck in the bathtub.

And this is a bench by the stream a little over a mile into the main trail, before you start up to the peak. It's really shady, and every time I walk through there, it smells so good - almost perfumey - and I can never figure out what it is. None of the trees seem to be flowering, and there aren't many flowers around, so.

* * *

Constellations

The light was leaving in the west it was blue
The children’s laughter sang
And skipping just like the stones they threw
Their voices echoed across the waves
It’s getting late

And it was just another night
With a sunset and a moonrise
Not too far behind to give us just enough light
To lay down underneath the stars
We listened to Papa’s translations
Of the stories across the sky
We drew our own constellations

The west winds often last too long
And when they calm down, nothing ever feels the same
Sheltered under the Kamani tree
Waiting for the passing rain
Clouds keep moving to uncover the sea
Stars up above us chasing the day away
To find the stories that we sometimes need
Listen close enough and all else fades
Fades away

And it was just another night
With a sunset and a moonrise
Not so far behind to give us just enough light
To lay down underneath the stars
Listen to all translations
Of the stories across the sky
We drew our own constellations

Every place feels like a familiar town

2007-05-31T17:51:00.000-07:00

Two weeks 'til Bonnaroo! Not that I'm, you know, counting.

* * *

I hiked around the base of Bernardo Mountain today. Very, very cool. Er, hot. I was trying to get to the peak, but apparently missed the turnoff, so. For the third time this week, I forgot my camera.

* * *

I could use a good Thunderstorm.

* * *

Free

We could let this love be the fading sky
We could drift all night until the new sun rise
Pass me a drink or maybe two
One for me and one for you
And we'll be

Free, Free
Free, Free

Here comes corner winds and the changing' tide
We better drop them sails and get inside
When will the weather ever let us go
I guess we'll have to wait until the trade winds blow
When we'll be

Free, Free
Free, Free

There's nothing in between
What we are, what we see
There's nothing in between
What we are, what we see, what we are
We are just

On a life boat sailing' home
With our drunken hearts and our tired bones
Well I just take one last look around
Yeah an' every place feels like a familiar town
And now we're

Free, Free
And don't you wanna be
Free
From time to time a little

Make a kinder place with my own two hands

2007-05-28T17:07:00.000-07:00

I hiked Sunset Trail today, and forgot my camera. Which was a shame, since it was the coolest hike I've been on in this area. Mountains, lakes, meadows, and sunshine. Is there any better way to spend a holiday? I'm thinking not. And it certainly beat the beach crowds, even with the fog that won't go away.

* * *

I'm reading East of Eden, and can't seem to put it down. And I thought that Steinbeck feller was impressive with Cannery Row, Tortilla Flat, and The Pearl. Turns out it was only the tip of the central-valley literary iceberg, because this one's my favorite for sure. So far.

* * *

Classes start again a week from today. I'm not really dreading it, but I'm not really looking forward to it either. I'm taking Professional Responsibility and Entertainment Law. At least it's something different.

* * *

Joanna Newsom. I'm obsessed.

* * *

This is from the hike Mom and I did at Water Canyon a couple weeks ago. This is a rock face we ended up having to crawl through, and even though it might not look like much from this angle, you'll have to trust me - it was much:

This is the view from the top. Mom said, "Even the Alps couldn't beat this." But I haven't seen the Alps yet, so I'm going to have to wait until I agree with her.

* * *

With My Own Two Hands

I can change the world
With my own two hands
Make a better place
With my own two hands
Make a kinder place
With my own two hands
With my own
With my own two hands
I can make peace on earth
With my own two hands
I can clean up the earth
With my own two hands
I can reach out to you
With my own two hands
With my own
With my own two hands

I'm gonna make it a brighter place
I'm gonna make it a safer place
I'm gonna help the human race
With my own
With my own two hands

I can hold you
With my own two hands
I can comfort you
With my own two hands
But you got to use
Use your own two hands
Use your own
Use your own two hands