Nothing like 5 hours in 100 degrees and 3 hours in 95. Thursday I had finished packing and stuffing all my things into safe places, and with too many bags draping from my landscape, I rocketed out toward Simi Valley for the night. I was so wasted tired from the previous two days of packing, that I spent an extra day and night in Simi just resting and recuperating, and inevitably postponing my exodus toward Sonora till Saturday morning. Being as famished was all apart of my two day exhaustion and dieting on nothing but pizza and soda, when Friday night dinner came around I was fed a delicious homemade pot-pie dinner, cornbread and all, then camped butt on the couch for some Alice in Wonderland, which promptly resulted in me missing the whole thing due to passing out.
Which brings me to this morning when my alarm clock was set for 7:30am, yet somehow I managed to push snooze till 10:30am, at which point I shot out of bed, literally, cause a certain indoor cat was hanging/dangling/screaming by its front paws to the outside of the screen on a very high window.
It took me no more than 30 minutes to gather and lasso my belongings to my horse and let my senses wake up, drank some water, ate a brownie, gave my kisses and hugs, and happily hit the road for some scenic riding through the mountains north of Simi and east to the 5 where I'd shoot right home. I was really looking forward, and I mean really really stoked, to see the new territories along the 23 and 126 highways, cause I had no idea what these stretches of road looked like, other than a two year olds doodle on my google map.
Now, I have seen the 118 and the 5 freeways way too many times to get excited about anything along their routes other than cheap fueling opportunities and new bugs for my headlight. So when I was looking for alternate routes to the 5 north from Simi, this new route just totally lit up my little wheels with exhuberation. One thing that particularly tickled my tail feathers, was when the 23 dropped over the first ridge and gave me this great view of the Fillmore valley and the upcoming corkscrews, hairpins, and fun little whoop-dee-woos leading me to the valley floor. There was what looked to me like none other than a large sand mining operation off to the left. I know, super exciting. But when I finally wound my way into the lusciousness of the agricultural farmland happening between Fillmore and Piru, it just screamed "jack, you need a farm." I even took a few extra minutes to shoot out to see what Lake Piru was all about. Yep, it's a lake. Complete with water and boats. I can hardly believe it.
12pm It was already hot by that time, but when I hit the 5 it really started cooking. Great day for 10 layers and a suede trench coat. This leg of my ride all the way up the five goes like this: it was a long trip with lots of water stops, hair drenching, passing people in air-conditioned cars looking at me like I'm crazy, and sitting in shade with my eyes shut letting my dry irritated overheating port-holes take a break from the pounding hot air. Hours later, some sweet 80degree foothill evening, and a lost 20oz C02 bottle, I rolled into Sonora at about 8:30pm into the arms of those golden hills, soothed by the sweet warm smell of her tall tan grasses, and sung to by the lulling sounds of her rustling oaks, clapping at my arrival.
And can you guess what I learned today? I learned that my Co2 canister can not ride in its formerly attached position with weak ass hoseclamps. And I hope whatever prisoner that ends up cleaning the roadside gets some use out of that full 20oz can. Time to make another purchase and re-engineer a better harness.
...and that I need to carry eye drops.
Home sweet home. :)
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Thursday: I take flight with the road.
Hello friends! It's two days till I leave Los Angeles for a sweet northerly trip.
I have spent the majority of my day fabricating some sweet new additions to my bike. A Co2 canister, a 12" barrel, and the remaining main parts to a good time. I'm looking forward to tomorrow when I pick up my new travel buddy, a Martin Mini LXME. I will wear it on my back until I get a passenger bar affixed to my rear fender, which I also foresee never happening, but whatever, let's see how I like wearing a small guitar for the first 5 hours to Sonora, CA.
Tomorrow I pack all my things into littler things, and shove them into new and interesting spaces. I'll pat myself on the back for having fewer things than I thought. It crossed my mind to have a yard sale, but as my life goes, I always find that I want my things somewhere down the line, and so it is particularly hard for me to conceive of ridding my possession of very wanted and needed things. #packrat
I have spent the majority of my day fabricating some sweet new additions to my bike. A Co2 canister, a 12" barrel, and the remaining main parts to a good time. I'm looking forward to tomorrow when I pick up my new travel buddy, a Martin Mini LXME. I will wear it on my back until I get a passenger bar affixed to my rear fender, which I also foresee never happening, but whatever, let's see how I like wearing a small guitar for the first 5 hours to Sonora, CA.
Tomorrow I pack all my things into littler things, and shove them into new and interesting spaces. I'll pat myself on the back for having fewer things than I thought. It crossed my mind to have a yard sale, but as my life goes, I always find that I want my things somewhere down the line, and so it is particularly hard for me to conceive of ridding my possession of very wanted and needed things. #packrat
I'll miss: my girlfriend, and some dear friends. Note: I'll be back.
Looking forward to: Seeing friends I haven't seen in forever! Spending time with the road. Seeking new sights. The lulling sound of the road. And even the expected and unexpected smells and temperatures I'll encounter.
One trip long overdue.
Goals: Sonora, San Francisco, Russian River, Arcata, Portland, Sacramento, and some destinations that are tentatively in my head, but can't mention them yet, only until they happen. The aforementioned are a given.
See you on the road.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Ride!
I need to get out on the road! September is going to be the kickoff of my major 2011 rides. I'm going to head north for the forests and US coastalways, and then shoot inland to ride through and down some new neighboring states. I hope to see some amazing farmland, rivers, mountaintop views, and bring you along in my writings. So stay tuned and I'll see you next month!!! Let's go!!!
So what have I been doing, you ask? I have been getting some occasional small local riding around Los Angeles and San Diego mostly, but trying to make that bothersome thing called rent. It is quite the drag. It weighs you down. It cuts your wings. Or at least thats how I've been feeling. I'm moving out of my place at the end of this month. Moving my things into storage, and aiming to rediscover some new growth on those ol' clipped wings. Taking care of the necessary which is a holding place for my things, and where the familiarity of the road, a campsite, and a friends couch are once again my home.
So what have I been doing, you ask? I have been getting some occasional small local riding around Los Angeles and San Diego mostly, but trying to make that bothersome thing called rent. It is quite the drag. It weighs you down. It cuts your wings. Or at least thats how I've been feeling. I'm moving out of my place at the end of this month. Moving my things into storage, and aiming to rediscover some new growth on those ol' clipped wings. Taking care of the necessary which is a holding place for my things, and where the familiarity of the road, a campsite, and a friends couch are once again my home.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
My foot is still with us.
So the other day, I had written a short perspective about my foot and hospitals, but briefly removed it because I was concerned that I was manifesting negativity, which would inadvertently delay the healing of my foot, and work against my will to pull through. Upon removing my original rant, I immediately decided that my foot would be fine, and I'd power through whatever attitude it was going to give me. That being said, now that my foot is feeling much better, I believe that I can retell the story. So here it is: a first account of the skate adventure that brought me to it all: enjoy.
On Wednesday afternoon, I had called a friend up to go skateboarding. We had talked about scheduling this skate date over the weekend, and that basically meant I had been looking forward to it for at least 3 days to the day. Well, Wednesday came around, and boy was it a busy day. I woke up late, meaning I was supposed to be at my friends house a half hour before to help her move. I leaned over the left side of my bed to grab my phone, still plugged in to the wall jack, and from the prone position I called my friend and explained that I just woke up, was throwing clothes on, and heading right over. I swooped my roommate on the way out and we shot over to my friends house where throughout the day we accomplished to move her things completely out of her house and into her storage unit. After that swelteringly hot operation, we headed back to my house to swim and get lost in some sauce. Basically I busted out the cold 30 pack from the fridge threw em in the pool cooler, and went to town on a few of them whilst floating about the pool with my friends.
A few beers down it dawned on me...skate date. I called up my skate-date partner and she said she had some work to finish up, although adding that it was still a bit hot, and we should wait for it to cool down, at which point I chimed in that she should come swimming and bring her girlfriend, who is also a dear friend of mine. An hour or so went by and by this time I was assuming that skating may not happen, and so here I am just swimming and throwin' em back. Well, my skate partner called up and was headed over. When she got to the gate, I opened it up all dripping in my swim clothes, and she says "let's go skating." My excited expression changed to a very "uh-oh" look to which I said, "oh, I thought we were just going to swim." And she was like "no, I thought we were going skating." So all that dialogue said and done, and I being a jack of my word, I said, "ok, let's do this!" In a matter of mach speed minutes according to a drunk person, I ran to my room and changed out of my wet clothes, and then ran out to the car, board in hand, sandwich in mouth. After-all I had to sober up.
When we got to the skate park, I barely remember someone referring to some elbow and knee pads sitting in the trunk, but I was like, "woooooooo!" and skated off toward the transitions. I paused in a shaded corner to slurp down a couple Otter Pops while I surveyed the terrain. My friend was well into the action on the ramp, doing cool maneuvers on the coping that I couldn't even begin to attempt. I watched in awe of her abilities. I skated closer.
Most of the time I drop into a ramp right off, but being in the state of mind that I was, I decided to just feel the ramp first and play from flat to transition, pumping back and forth and trying to revive my skate legs. This is usually where I find myself, when I don't skate for months/years at a time, and then spiral myself back on it as if I might have the same agility and trick memory as the last. Bottom line, I just don't. So here I was a few attempts at rock'n'rolls, and my fave which is fakie-180 rock'n'roll over the lip, then 180 that rock'n'roll back off the lip and roll front ways back down the ramp. I almost had it, too. Then, whabam!!! The board slid out, my arm went out for the slide catch diversion, and my right foot rolled over in a north right direction toward its pinky region. And as I lay there precariously at the floor of the ramp, I said to myself "see Jack? see? I told you so." Gosh darn it. If I ever listened to myself, I may...well...never have fun. So here I am, sore arm, sore foot, and running after my board.
Maybe it was the Otter Pop sugar high, or alcohol in my beer, or the adrenaline rush of embarrassment, but I shook it off and kept rolling around the park, but really just to find my way back to the shaded corner where I could only hope to find someone just chillin with a big blanket and a warm bottle of milk to offer me. Alas there was none. Whatever.
The sun had sunken lower into the Pasadena hills, and my friend was pretty tuckered out from her rad skate sesh. Seeing as I wasn't looking as if I was gonna hit those banks anymore, I'm pretty sure beside her being ready to go, she knew I was done for the evening as well. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I looked at a fella sitting in a wheelchair in the back of a van, parked in the shade, sliding door wide opened, no good view of the skatepark or batting cages, but a few dingy cars in the parking lot. And I was like "gee, think they could have given the guy a better parking spot?" And then I just went back to feeling drunk.
I repeatedly thanked my friend for such a great time at the skatepark, looking forward to our next opportunity, and we bid adieu as I ran...well, actually limped by this time, inside the house. I can't really remember what I did that evening other than get back in the pool, pop open another cold one, and complain about my foot.
I fell asleep with a fat bag of bone chilling ice strapped to my foot.
On Wednesday afternoon, I had called a friend up to go skateboarding. We had talked about scheduling this skate date over the weekend, and that basically meant I had been looking forward to it for at least 3 days to the day. Well, Wednesday came around, and boy was it a busy day. I woke up late, meaning I was supposed to be at my friends house a half hour before to help her move. I leaned over the left side of my bed to grab my phone, still plugged in to the wall jack, and from the prone position I called my friend and explained that I just woke up, was throwing clothes on, and heading right over. I swooped my roommate on the way out and we shot over to my friends house where throughout the day we accomplished to move her things completely out of her house and into her storage unit. After that swelteringly hot operation, we headed back to my house to swim and get lost in some sauce. Basically I busted out the cold 30 pack from the fridge threw em in the pool cooler, and went to town on a few of them whilst floating about the pool with my friends.
A few beers down it dawned on me...skate date. I called up my skate-date partner and she said she had some work to finish up, although adding that it was still a bit hot, and we should wait for it to cool down, at which point I chimed in that she should come swimming and bring her girlfriend, who is also a dear friend of mine. An hour or so went by and by this time I was assuming that skating may not happen, and so here I am just swimming and throwin' em back. Well, my skate partner called up and was headed over. When she got to the gate, I opened it up all dripping in my swim clothes, and she says "let's go skating." My excited expression changed to a very "uh-oh" look to which I said, "oh, I thought we were just going to swim." And she was like "no, I thought we were going skating." So all that dialogue said and done, and I being a jack of my word, I said, "ok, let's do this!" In a matter of mach speed minutes according to a drunk person, I ran to my room and changed out of my wet clothes, and then ran out to the car, board in hand, sandwich in mouth. After-all I had to sober up.
When we got to the skate park, I barely remember someone referring to some elbow and knee pads sitting in the trunk, but I was like, "woooooooo!" and skated off toward the transitions. I paused in a shaded corner to slurp down a couple Otter Pops while I surveyed the terrain. My friend was well into the action on the ramp, doing cool maneuvers on the coping that I couldn't even begin to attempt. I watched in awe of her abilities. I skated closer.
Most of the time I drop into a ramp right off, but being in the state of mind that I was, I decided to just feel the ramp first and play from flat to transition, pumping back and forth and trying to revive my skate legs. This is usually where I find myself, when I don't skate for months/years at a time, and then spiral myself back on it as if I might have the same agility and trick memory as the last. Bottom line, I just don't. So here I was a few attempts at rock'n'rolls, and my fave which is fakie-180 rock'n'roll over the lip, then 180 that rock'n'roll back off the lip and roll front ways back down the ramp. I almost had it, too. Then, whabam!!! The board slid out, my arm went out for the slide catch diversion, and my right foot rolled over in a north right direction toward its pinky region. And as I lay there precariously at the floor of the ramp, I said to myself "see Jack? see? I told you so." Gosh darn it. If I ever listened to myself, I may...well...never have fun. So here I am, sore arm, sore foot, and running after my board.
Maybe it was the Otter Pop sugar high, or alcohol in my beer, or the adrenaline rush of embarrassment, but I shook it off and kept rolling around the park, but really just to find my way back to the shaded corner where I could only hope to find someone just chillin with a big blanket and a warm bottle of milk to offer me. Alas there was none. Whatever.
The sun had sunken lower into the Pasadena hills, and my friend was pretty tuckered out from her rad skate sesh. Seeing as I wasn't looking as if I was gonna hit those banks anymore, I'm pretty sure beside her being ready to go, she knew I was done for the evening as well. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I looked at a fella sitting in a wheelchair in the back of a van, parked in the shade, sliding door wide opened, no good view of the skatepark or batting cages, but a few dingy cars in the parking lot. And I was like "gee, think they could have given the guy a better parking spot?" And then I just went back to feeling drunk.
I repeatedly thanked my friend for such a great time at the skatepark, looking forward to our next opportunity, and we bid adieu as I ran...well, actually limped by this time, inside the house. I can't really remember what I did that evening other than get back in the pool, pop open another cold one, and complain about my foot.
I fell asleep with a fat bag of bone chilling ice strapped to my foot.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Breeze.
I absolutely love the breeze that is blowing lightly through my front door right now. It carries familiar scents of the surrounding foliage, and heat, and sounds of LA, reminiscent of that which I used to smell, feel, and hear as a young child playing at my grandparents house in Altadena. Ah, the good old days. And because they feel just like yesterday with these smells, heat, and sounds, I am in love with right now, right here, and this breeze.
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