Here's To Something New

I sit here typing this dispatch from Olympia, Washington, on the verge of a ten day silent retreat.

For the next several hundred hours, I'll be a few miles off of I-5, meditating and delving into something new. I could elaborate, - and I plan to - but I must hit the road.

I'm excited. I'll be back shortly to tell you how it went.

One or More Things I Did Today (A Saturday in Bryce edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 16th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Alarm went off, just prior to sunrise.
• I still have the run of the place. Rainbow Point and I against the world.
• After photographing the splendor, I drag my Thermarest to a nice little nook on the edge of the ground and plop down for a nap, bare feet warmed by the rising sun.
• A inter-species misunderstanding occurs when a chipmunk tries to snuggle with my ear, causing alarm in both parties. I bolt upright, banging my elbow on a rock.
  
• Awake now, it's time to pull my folding chair out and enjoy some breakfast.
• Having conquered breakfast, and with my fellow tourists pouring into the area at an impressive rate, it's time to scope the rest of the park.
  
• I hit the visitor's center, then my destination: Fairyland Loop.
• And I am quickly ecstatic, because this Fairyland place - indeed, this Bryce Canyon - is spectacular.
  
• After shambling through the hoodoos and spires for many hours, shirtless, sans sunscreen (and sans common sense), I emerge at the Sunset Campground, the same spot that eluded my search the previous night.
• To celebrate the discovery, and because I had eaten all of the meager provisions I had packed for the 8 mile hike, I help myself to a slice of pizza and a beer (and a nap) from the general store.
• Polish off the last leg of the loop, visualize a congratulatory auto-high-five, and commence to more exploring.
• Finding all of the first come, first served campgrounds are full, I make dinner in the picnic area.
  
• Let me save you some time in the future: it may not be impossible to cook a beet in a tiny pan on top of a Coleman propane grill, but there are easier endeavors out there.
• Dinner complete, I visit the Lodge and bide some time until the 9pm start of the Aliens presentation by one of the park rangers.
• Appreciating the free entertainment (and refraining now from making a joke about the average level charisma found in my sample of Bryce Canyon rangers), I also realize I'd probably be better served sleeping than sitting through another second of this Aliens presentation.
• Still without a legit campground, I make my way back to Fairyland Point.
  
• If I had left the Aliens presentation 5 minutes earlier, I would have not encountered the two gents who decided to take a well worn page from the Book of Youth and spend their Saturday evening in what can fairly be expected to be a discreet place, indulging in smoke.
• Ignoring these champions, I proceed to drag my supplies over the wooden beams (re: the fence) and make myself a little burrow above the Fairyland Loop.
  
• No bears or cougars, or bugs, visit me that night, but I have fitful sleep nonetheless (my sleeping bag is rated at 15 degrees, or about 50 degrees less than the air at Fairyland).

Picture of the day:

My view from the spot I awoke, Sunday (cheating a bit on this picture of the day thing...)

As they say, "It were a Day".

I have survived Zion.

With all limbs intact. No 127 Hours moments for this guy.

I left both my heart and my cell phone in that magnificent valley.

Until the next time I fall enamored with a place,

One or More Things I Did Today

And Let It Be Known, that on July 9th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Woke up at dawn to the sun rising over Joshua Tree. Not a rattlesnake or tarantula to be found.
• After having considered waking up, dragged sleeping bag and Thermarest behind a big rock.
• Commenced to sleep again.
• Sun finally peeks over rock and apprehends my feet in its glare.
• Time to get up!
• Homemade granola for breakfast. Yum.
• Pack it up and head to Lost Horse trail.
• Somewhere in the region of a six mile hike. Don't encounter another soul during the hike, but do encounter sweeping vistas and excellent conversation.
• Return to campsite. Proceed to scurry around the rocks and crevices at our campground, Jumbo Rocks.
• By this point, the flies have made themselves known. I'd swear they were buzzing my head just for S's and Gigs*.
• Jeffrey, flies, and I explore the wash and rocks for an hour or so before coming to this realization: "hey, we've been in the blank sun all day**".
• Nap.
• Back up!
• A ranger approaches!
• Nature walk to Skull Rock at dusk? Is that a come-on? It is? Sounds great!
• Turns out come-on means nature walk, which is just the same, because we learn about some of the more prevalent fauna within Joshua Tree.
• Some of the purposes the Indians of Joshua Tree used the plants we saw for: sorethroats, indigestion, upset stomach, constipation, birth control, diarrhea, headaches, fevers, juggler's despair.
  
• About this time, undue faith in Western medicine aside, I begin to appreciate the difference between "used for" and "worked for". That, or there must have been some pretty powerful placebo at work in that desert.
• Besides Jeffrey, myself, and the ranger? Germans. Tons of toe-headed, fair skinned Germans. I love Germans. And apparently they love Joshua Tree.
• Return and make dinner. Discover I've neglected to bring a pot along for this wild ride of a summer.
• Laugh at the camping pots and pans I bought at Fred Meyers.
  
• Zatarans and instant mashed potatoes: the dinner of kings***.
• Our ambitions for another night of Tecate, stars, and conversation are cut short by descending exhaustion, hard and fast.
• No tent, thanks.
  
• zzzz.

As they say, "It was a Day".

Oh! Almost forgot. The picture for the day:

German children playing under a desert's moon

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*As part of our partnership with Google and Disney, we agreed to keep WIDWINW G-rated.
**And our lack of visits to the facilities begin to draw question towards our hydration. G-rated, y'all.
***If kings cooked on a propane range while shirtless and delicately operating a sauce pan that has been conscripted into service as a pot. You know, old fashioned king stuff.

One or More Things I Did Today

And Let It Be Known, that on July 8th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Went for a run alongside the lovely LA River.
• Visited the Sony Pictures lot in Culver City to pick up Jeffrey.
• While there, the following ensued:
• Planked Ecto-1*:

• Left my cell-phone in the private bathroom of the Indio Target. Rather than backtrack 20 miles, decided we'd pick it up on the return from J-Tree**.
• Made it out to Joshua Tree in time to find the place more or less deserted***.
  
• Drank beer under the stars until later than we thought it was.
• A first: slept in a sleeping bag, outside, sans tent. Where have I been all this time? Highly recommended, even if there's a chance I rattlesnake/scorpion/tarantula may take your pie-hole for a cozy motel.

As they say, "It was a Day".

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*Anecdote Corner: According to Jeffrey, Sony is interested in making a third Ghostbusters film, only no one has been able to reach Bill Murray. Apparently BM doesn't have an agent, but rather an answering machine that he periodically checks when he decides he wants to work. In other news, I'm hoping to be reincarnated as Bill Murray. But instead of being reincarnated as Bill Murray, I'd rather just have an answering machine I can decide to check when I want to work. Is that too much to ask? No? Thanks for the confirmation. I figured as much, but I needed a little affirmation.
**Worked like a charm.
***Wait, just now picking up on the linguistic similarities between "deserted" and "desert". Is there something going on here? Let me know.

Los Angeles River: Fragile Ecosystem At a Crossroads

So this morning* I went for a bit of a jog.

The goal was to ramble aimlessly around Chris and Rachael's place, check out some scenes, and make my way back in time for some blogging.

And then I came across the splendor of the Los Angeles River**, and I knew I had to draw attention to this special place.

Cats, or "Reminds me of the cover of this"

Los Angeles River, facing one way

Dip my toes where the river flows

Los Angeles River, facing the other way

A babblin' brook

Like so many of our natural resources, I fear the Los Angeles wetlands may vanish forever if something is not done to reverse the destructive trend that has probably been in place for decades or something.

Let's all do our part to make sure the wonderful smells of this unique place remain pungent for our children to savor in the future. We can each only do our part, so let's start by doing that a lot.

Thank you for your donation. Your Los Angeles Wetlands vinyl decal*** is in the mail.

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*Editor's note: I actually went for this jog last Friday. Linear time, y'all!
**Did you even know such a thing existed? The Los Angeles river? Sounds like something out of Demolition Man.
***Fits windows of all Suburu models.

The Turkey Sandwich and the Sea

Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the turkey sandwich.

Introducing: Planking Across America

It's time to write a post I've been putting off for a little while now.

To be frank, I didn't know quite how to go about introducing this section of the blog.

"Am I manic enough right now to do justice to this inaugural planking post?", I wondered, sitting here in the side yard of Oren's place in Monterey.

And, "While this blog has embraced its fair share of the absurd and asinine*, do I really want to go whole hog on that front**?"

But then I thought back to when I first heard about planking***, and I became inspire to push forward with vigor.

If you have heard of planking, yes, sadly it's become a feature of this blog. If you haven't, then I encourage you to click on the link above.

The origin:
At a bachelor party for my dear friend Peter a couple of weekends back, I was introduced to the idiot's Theory of General Relativity. In something that only Australians could have come up with, planking entered into my world like a terrible vision to some half-witted prophet.

After sitting there for a weekends worth of gestation, this superlatively stupid idea emerged out of the other half of my brain, like some sort of moronic butterfly.

So, without further ado, and in the spirit of all of the great fools that have graced our world through the years, I'm pleased to share the ne plus ultra of inanity, the latest contribution towards the ultimate decline of culture within Western civilization,

Planking Across America:

Planking the front porch of 3946 Davis St., Departing Portland, Self Portrait

My god, look at that exquisite form. Like a horizontal Ken Sailors, I lay and ply the trade of the honest.

This inaugural planking post is dedicated as a bachelor party gift to the man who inspired this section, Peter Olah. This one's for you, Pete.

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*Hm... new masthead?
**Irrelevant point as of this typing. The truth is I was already too deep to get out when I began this post.
***"Potentially dangerous". Let the sensationalism commence!

One or More Things I Did Today (last Friday... a bit backlogged on this front)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 1st, in then year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Dang, y'all, this were a GOOD DAY*
• I took a day off to head out to the Point Reyes area of the Bay, just north of San Francisco. Having received a number of good leads on Bass Lake and some waterfall that apparently comes right down to the Pacific Ocean (this one). A lengthy post can only do this experience justice, so look to see that in the near future. In the immediate timeframe, though, suffice it to say that if you've got a day or so to spare, a car, and are in the Bay area, go check out this area. Bad. Ass.
• Speaking of experiences that absolutely warrant full-length posts, I was lucky enough to take a trip down to San Jose Friday evening to be a guest of my friend Shelly's family, the Kambojs. Here's where I would utilize some shorthand, contrived means of emphasizing that this was a singularly cool experience. Not being one to buck convention: Um, Dang. Until the post that I will write on that evening, please accept this Beatnik** poem to sum up how amazing that was:

Daaang, man,
That food was
So good!
I can't believe
, well, actually I can,
how much I ate!
Indian food.
Delicious.
Snap, rap
flim flap,
Do dap.
Thanks!

As they say, "It was a Day".

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*Like our subsidiary, Google, we're always rolling out new products here at WIDWINW. Feast your hungry eyes on this inaugural use of big ol' blue font to express something of unusual significance.
**More to come soon on this blog about Beatniks. The short of it: I've recently had a minor epiphany about Beatniks. I'll leave it at that for now.