We've lived quite an interesting life over the last month. At some times, it feels like everyone in the world has done this type of thing; at others, it seems we are alone. And some times, just sometimes, we've stumbled upon a piece of insight so perfectly applicable to our situation that it's hard to ignore. This quote came to Julia from a friend, and since we've just lived it, I feel it's important to pass on to others.
Edward Abbey advises:
"One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourselves out. Be as I am -a reluctant enthusiast... a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it's still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for awhile and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely, mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound people with their hearts in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: You will outlive the bastards."
The red rock desert of southern Utah is Abbey country, and there are few (if any) he loved better. His attitude and spirit infused the red dust and rock of the place, and as I hiked I could almost hear Abbey muttering on the wind. I couldn't ignore the paved road that carried us from the Arches NP visitor's center to our trailhead in Devil's Garden, at the northern end of the park. That road was the very one Abbey tried to derail by pulling up survey stakes in the late 1960s, before Arches served as the destination for thousands of RV-bound tourists each year.
Terry Tempest Williams, too, may be heard on the wind. A more modern voice, she speaks from a different angle from Abbey but arrives at the same conclusion: Utah's desert and the remaining wild places on the Colorado Plateau are unique, the objects of deep love, and must be preserved. I challenge you to walk across the slickrock, ever vigilant to stay off the cryptobiotic soil, and feel disconnected from the place. If your eyes are open, your nose alert for the scent of juniper, your toes desperately wanting to curl in the soft sand, you will not miss the voices of Abbey, Williams, and others, including the land itself.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
We're Baaack!
The "By the Numbers" edition:
32 days
7,778 miles
20 states
12,500 ft. (highest elevation--top of Chair 15, Telluride, CO)
0 ft. (lowest elevation, Pacific Ocean)
0 speeding tickets
0 arrests
0 trips to the hospital
15 degrees (our coldest night outside)
85 degrees (our warmest day)
9 national/state parks and public lands
1 set of real, live dinosaur bones
5 girls back, safe, with thousands of fantastic memories, some of which we don't even believe actually happened
32 days
7,778 miles
20 states
12,500 ft. (highest elevation--top of Chair 15, Telluride, CO)
0 ft. (lowest elevation, Pacific Ocean)
0 speeding tickets
0 arrests
0 trips to the hospital
15 degrees (our coldest night outside)
85 degrees (our warmest day)
9 national/state parks and public lands
1 set of real, live dinosaur bones
5 girls back, safe, with thousands of fantastic memories, some of which we don't even believe actually happened
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Mea Culpa, and a Return to the Present
Our bad.
Though I guess the fact that we haven't updated the blog in a while means that we're constantly busy experiencing our travels, instead of communicating them. We'll go with that explanation.
So...Greetings from Telluride, CO! We're about to start the very last leg of our trip, that which heads home to the East. For the last few days, however, we've been basking in an unexpected dump of powdery snow. Tara's friend from age 9, Karissa, has been extremely gracious in welcoming us into her amazing mountainside home, and we've been taking full advantage [and picking up ski bum language. GAME: see how many times this post uses skier slang!].
The daylight hours have mostly been spent skiing, snowboarding, and generally crushing it. Our first day, Karissa and Justin took Tara and Rachel out for a locals' tour of the mountain. Luckily, our day at the Canyons in Park City, UT, had served as our ski-shock day, and we were mostly ready for the trees, deep snow, and hidden faces to which we were ably led. By the end of the morning, we felt significantly more comfortable on the mountain and even more so dealing with the varying terrain and snow styles of the Rockies. We met up with Annie for lunch, and the dynamic threesome spent the afternoon making turns in Prospect Bowl. Rachel, who has apparently become more of a powderhound than she would like to admit, spent most of her time seeking out the last vestiges of the recent storm. As most of these "powder" "stashes" involved some sort of uphill climb or slog through deep snow to get to them, Tara found her access unfortunately limited due to her snowboarding ways. In the meantime, Annie worked incredibly hard at getting her skiing legs under her and seemed vastly more skilled on her two fiberglass even from the morning to the end of the afternoon.
Muscles sore, various body parts hurting, Annie, Tara, and Rachel retired to the house to find Sara feeling considerably better (she had felt a little under the weather earlier in the day) and Julia gone on an exploratory trip down to the town of Telluride. Annie looked around the kitchen and instantly felt inspired by a bag of blue corn tortilla chips. "Nachos!" she may or may not have announced, very loudly. So we set about grating cheese, slicing olives, and dicing strawberries. YES, strawberries. The secret ingredient to incredible nachos. Though, unfortunately (?), now no longer a secret.
Post-delicious experience, we hot tubbed for a bit, including a dip in the snow, then proceeded to make dinner. Our plans to join the rest of the fabulous fivesome in town were derailed by overwhelming senses of tiredness and a report that downtown "seemed dead" on the Thursday night. An accidental good decision, as we were due for a few inches that night.
The next morning (Friday, 2/13), we woke bright and early with hopes for a powder day. We saw about 5 inches of new, fluffy, sparking snow as soon as we left the house. Not huge by Alta standards, but still exciting for those of us unlucky enough not to be there. Tara and Rachel skied the mountain sort of backwards, but were quite proud of themselves for finding Revelation Bowl, a wide open concave mountain face covered in snow. Due to their relatively late discovery (it was about 10:30am), the Bowl was fairly tracked out and a little crowded. The snow was still tons of fun, and the terrain felt huge. After charging pretty hard for most of the morning, quads burning with the effort of making beautiful turns through piles of snow, Tara and Rachel met up with Sara and Annie for lunch. Just as the day before, the newly conglomerated group skied together for a while. Sara, unfortunately, got a little separated from the others when the trail we had agreed to follow to Lift 5 didn't actually end up at Lift 5. That's what we get for not reading the map, I guess. We took some great intermediate runs that allowed Tara and Rachel to shoot off through trees in search of fun snow and still meet up with Annie at the bottom of the lift without too much waiting around.
Julia took advantage of a clear day to tour some of the other old mining towns in the area, including Ouray, Silverton, and another. She took a number of really cool pictures of the dusty towns turned cute, and brought back some sweet souvenirs. Most importantly, Julia SAW BIGHORN SHEEP. She even has pictures to prove it. The excitement was palpable when she told the rest of us, as we've been hankering to see them since Arches (but that story will come in a later post).
That evening, we actually ventured into town. A free gondola took us from Mountain Village (the village on the mountain, shockingly enough) to "downtown," i.e. the town of Telluride. Two officially separate towns, Telluride and Mountain Village have completely different vibes. The town nestles in the end of a box canyon, the walls of which are riddled with shafts from 19th century gold and silver mines. Historically, the lawless mining town had a horrendous reputation. Legend has it that the name originates from people yelling "To Hell you ride" after those who rode away for the rowdy mining town. The clapboard buildings lining Colorado Ave (the main street) included a number of brothels and saloons. The modern-day town has lost most of the lawless feel it once had, but has managed to retain a sense of grittiness that the multi-million dollar log homes of Mountain Village decidely lack. Just walking down Colorado Ave (the main drag) evokes a sense of timelessness, as if a drunk miner could be kicked out of the door to the New Sheridan at any moment. One can almost hear the clink of geologist hammers against the rock, feel the ragged desperation of men, women, and children whose very lives depend on extracted ore and the rise and fall of silver prices.
Telluride was practically dead by the mid-20th century. The mines were spent, the early dairies obsolete. Towns like Aspen and Vail had already boomed into the sprawling leisure centers that they are today. In the 1970s, ski promoters came to Telluride with a different vision (at least, according to how they tell it): to create a world-class ski resort without the urban sprawl, the fur shops, and the attitude linked with the outposts of Manhattan in Colorado ski country. Apparently, the plan as worked, though maybe with a few unforeseen twists: for at least the last two decades, Telluride has boomed. An empty lot in town doesn't sell for less than a cool million, and houses with six car garages seem to spring up every week in Mountain Village. Lift tickets are an outrageous $92 a day, and it is nearly impossible for community's working members to live anywhere close to their jobs.
And yet... The mountain is gorgeous. The town sits around 9,000 ft above sea level; the tallest lift reaches 12,500. Looking out from the chairlift, the gondola into town, the deck of Karissa's house, one feels on top of the world. The sheer faces of San Juan peaks flow into rounded shoulders where aspens stand in large, genetically undifferentiated clumps. The shoulders themselves are cut by the San Miguel River, creating a multi-tiered landscape that seems even more massive than it already is. Telluride is truly one of the most beautiful places on earth.
But back to our night on the town. We went to "The Buck," otherwise known as the Last Dollar Saloon, to check out the local crowd. Rachel had some pretty fond memories of the place from her stint as a travel guide writer, and the margaritas definitely lived up to them. Tara even spotted someone famous, though we're not exactly sure of his name. Some bald comedian with a gap between his front teeth. Any ideas?
We were pretty wiped from another bomber day on the mountain, so we headed back up the gondola in search of our beds. The timing almost worked so that our very own Julia could spend the first few minutes of her 24th birthday on the gondola, but alas, we were a bit too early. The magical moment happened instead in the Dial-A-Ride mondo-SUV that gave us a free ride from the gondola station to Karissa's house.
Day 3 (Saturday, Feb 14, Valentine's Day, Julia's Birthday!) of our Telluride experience started a little bit on the later side. Two hard skiing days at altitude were definitely catching up with us, and we all needed our sleep (besides Annie, who generally rises before the alarm, much to our general amazement). We all were hitting the slopes that day, even Julia! We were pretty excited to spend at least part of the day all together on the mountain. With our meet-up plans in place, the various parties split off to try their luck on the mountain. The wind was buffeting the mountain so much so that we could see snow being scoured from the unlucky faces. Tara and Rachel put their heads together and tried to figure out where, exactly, the snow was ending up. We guessed Revelation Bowl.
Tara and Rachel gazed over the rim of Revelation, trying to see if the bowl was as buffed as they thought it might be. After about a minute of standing in the nearly howling wind, they shrugged their shoulders, muttered something about how "there's only one way to find out," and went after it. As soon as Rachel's skis left the scoured cat track, they cut through the windbuffed snow ("buff") like a hot knife through butter. The bowl was perfectly situated for maxium buff: the wind blew away all evidence of previous tracks, just as it loaded the far side with snow. Sick turn followed sick turn alongside the screaming cries of protesting leg muscles. By the time we rode the lift back to the top, our tracks had been obliterated by the wind and fresh, creamy snow was again in our path. Free refills (sort of), baby. Definitely the best snow on the mountain at that point, and yet no one was skiing it. It seemed that the very force molding the amazing, creamy buff was also keeping away the faint of heart. Epic.
Various other skiing/snowboarding things happened...
The real excitement happened later that night, at the Rubiks Cube party. The scene: about 20 twenty-somethings (mostly locals, some randos like us) dressed only in the colors that appear on a Rubiks Cube. There are 6: red, yellow, orange, white, blue, and green. Very, very bold colors. The "goal" is to switch clothes with people so that by the end of the night, you are all one color. A lot of choice can be involved, so it's not nearly as sketchy as it sounds. It did lead to a number of hilarious exchanges, however, including Karissa's [male] friend walking around in a blue velour dress over black long underwear tights for much of the night.
That was last night. Annie got a head start on most this morning and tackled one of the more challenging parts of the mountain. Sara left early as well, rocking out to her iPod and shredding some gnar gnar on her board. Tara and Rachel, on the other hand, slept in a bit and decided it was finally time for the Day of Silly. They unsnarled an unnecessarily complicated logistical question of which equipment to wear where when, ate breakfast, and embarked upon a day of discovery.
Discovery of what, you may ask? Well, we aimed to discover whether Tara still knew how to ski and whether Rachel could pick up telemark skiing by watching people from the lifts (and desperately wanting to know how to do it). Rachel rented a pair of tele skis, Tara borrowed Rachel's groomer skis. At first, the experiment didn't seem to go so well. Rachel kept overbalancing, twisting her torso too much when she pole planted and not really bending her legs enough to create a real tele turn (or lunge, for that matter). Tara seemed to be doing okay, but early questions like, "How do I turn?" made for some serious hilarity. By the end of their second amazingly long green run (about 45 minutes for the first, about half an hour for the second), both seemed to have things more or less under control. Neither were to be speed demons at any point of the day, but Rachel definitely strung together a few nice looking turns and Tara began playing around on her edges like a pro. By mid-afternoon, however, exhaustion set in and informed the switch back to regular gear. Tara, Rachel, and Annie raced down groomers to their hearts' delight and until the very last chair. It was certainly one of the most fulfilling days spent entirely on green runs an experienced skier/snowboarder could imagine.
We leave Telluride bright and early tomorrow (Monday) morning and begin our monotonous trek east. We spent most of this evening packing and organizing, though we did take a break for a lovely meal of pesto and tomato pasta (and what was left of Julia's amazing birthday cake for which Annie made delicious homemade frosting). Needless to say, it will be very difficult to leave this gorgeous place full of wonderful people.
Though I guess the fact that we haven't updated the blog in a while means that we're constantly busy experiencing our travels, instead of communicating them. We'll go with that explanation.
So...Greetings from Telluride, CO! We're about to start the very last leg of our trip, that which heads home to the East. For the last few days, however, we've been basking in an unexpected dump of powdery snow. Tara's friend from age 9, Karissa, has been extremely gracious in welcoming us into her amazing mountainside home, and we've been taking full advantage [and picking up ski bum language. GAME: see how many times this post uses skier slang!].
The daylight hours have mostly been spent skiing, snowboarding, and generally crushing it. Our first day, Karissa and Justin took Tara and Rachel out for a locals' tour of the mountain. Luckily, our day at the Canyons in Park City, UT, had served as our ski-shock day, and we were mostly ready for the trees, deep snow, and hidden faces to which we were ably led. By the end of the morning, we felt significantly more comfortable on the mountain and even more so dealing with the varying terrain and snow styles of the Rockies. We met up with Annie for lunch, and the dynamic threesome spent the afternoon making turns in Prospect Bowl. Rachel, who has apparently become more of a powderhound than she would like to admit, spent most of her time seeking out the last vestiges of the recent storm. As most of these "powder" "stashes" involved some sort of uphill climb or slog through deep snow to get to them, Tara found her access unfortunately limited due to her snowboarding ways. In the meantime, Annie worked incredibly hard at getting her skiing legs under her and seemed vastly more skilled on her two fiberglass even from the morning to the end of the afternoon.
Muscles sore, various body parts hurting, Annie, Tara, and Rachel retired to the house to find Sara feeling considerably better (she had felt a little under the weather earlier in the day) and Julia gone on an exploratory trip down to the town of Telluride. Annie looked around the kitchen and instantly felt inspired by a bag of blue corn tortilla chips. "Nachos!" she may or may not have announced, very loudly. So we set about grating cheese, slicing olives, and dicing strawberries. YES, strawberries. The secret ingredient to incredible nachos. Though, unfortunately (?), now no longer a secret.
Post-delicious experience, we hot tubbed for a bit, including a dip in the snow, then proceeded to make dinner. Our plans to join the rest of the fabulous fivesome in town were derailed by overwhelming senses of tiredness and a report that downtown "seemed dead" on the Thursday night. An accidental good decision, as we were due for a few inches that night.
The next morning (Friday, 2/13), we woke bright and early with hopes for a powder day. We saw about 5 inches of new, fluffy, sparking snow as soon as we left the house. Not huge by Alta standards, but still exciting for those of us unlucky enough not to be there. Tara and Rachel skied the mountain sort of backwards, but were quite proud of themselves for finding Revelation Bowl, a wide open concave mountain face covered in snow. Due to their relatively late discovery (it was about 10:30am), the Bowl was fairly tracked out and a little crowded. The snow was still tons of fun, and the terrain felt huge. After charging pretty hard for most of the morning, quads burning with the effort of making beautiful turns through piles of snow, Tara and Rachel met up with Sara and Annie for lunch. Just as the day before, the newly conglomerated group skied together for a while. Sara, unfortunately, got a little separated from the others when the trail we had agreed to follow to Lift 5 didn't actually end up at Lift 5. That's what we get for not reading the map, I guess. We took some great intermediate runs that allowed Tara and Rachel to shoot off through trees in search of fun snow and still meet up with Annie at the bottom of the lift without too much waiting around.
Julia took advantage of a clear day to tour some of the other old mining towns in the area, including Ouray, Silverton, and another. She took a number of really cool pictures of the dusty towns turned cute, and brought back some sweet souvenirs. Most importantly, Julia SAW BIGHORN SHEEP. She even has pictures to prove it. The excitement was palpable when she told the rest of us, as we've been hankering to see them since Arches (but that story will come in a later post).
That evening, we actually ventured into town. A free gondola took us from Mountain Village (the village on the mountain, shockingly enough) to "downtown," i.e. the town of Telluride. Two officially separate towns, Telluride and Mountain Village have completely different vibes. The town nestles in the end of a box canyon, the walls of which are riddled with shafts from 19th century gold and silver mines. Historically, the lawless mining town had a horrendous reputation. Legend has it that the name originates from people yelling "To Hell you ride" after those who rode away for the rowdy mining town. The clapboard buildings lining Colorado Ave (the main street) included a number of brothels and saloons. The modern-day town has lost most of the lawless feel it once had, but has managed to retain a sense of grittiness that the multi-million dollar log homes of Mountain Village decidely lack. Just walking down Colorado Ave (the main drag) evokes a sense of timelessness, as if a drunk miner could be kicked out of the door to the New Sheridan at any moment. One can almost hear the clink of geologist hammers against the rock, feel the ragged desperation of men, women, and children whose very lives depend on extracted ore and the rise and fall of silver prices.
Telluride was practically dead by the mid-20th century. The mines were spent, the early dairies obsolete. Towns like Aspen and Vail had already boomed into the sprawling leisure centers that they are today. In the 1970s, ski promoters came to Telluride with a different vision (at least, according to how they tell it): to create a world-class ski resort without the urban sprawl, the fur shops, and the attitude linked with the outposts of Manhattan in Colorado ski country. Apparently, the plan as worked, though maybe with a few unforeseen twists: for at least the last two decades, Telluride has boomed. An empty lot in town doesn't sell for less than a cool million, and houses with six car garages seem to spring up every week in Mountain Village. Lift tickets are an outrageous $92 a day, and it is nearly impossible for community's working members to live anywhere close to their jobs.
And yet... The mountain is gorgeous. The town sits around 9,000 ft above sea level; the tallest lift reaches 12,500. Looking out from the chairlift, the gondola into town, the deck of Karissa's house, one feels on top of the world. The sheer faces of San Juan peaks flow into rounded shoulders where aspens stand in large, genetically undifferentiated clumps. The shoulders themselves are cut by the San Miguel River, creating a multi-tiered landscape that seems even more massive than it already is. Telluride is truly one of the most beautiful places on earth.
But back to our night on the town. We went to "The Buck," otherwise known as the Last Dollar Saloon, to check out the local crowd. Rachel had some pretty fond memories of the place from her stint as a travel guide writer, and the margaritas definitely lived up to them. Tara even spotted someone famous, though we're not exactly sure of his name. Some bald comedian with a gap between his front teeth. Any ideas?
We were pretty wiped from another bomber day on the mountain, so we headed back up the gondola in search of our beds. The timing almost worked so that our very own Julia could spend the first few minutes of her 24th birthday on the gondola, but alas, we were a bit too early. The magical moment happened instead in the Dial-A-Ride mondo-SUV that gave us a free ride from the gondola station to Karissa's house.
Day 3 (Saturday, Feb 14, Valentine's Day, Julia's Birthday!) of our Telluride experience started a little bit on the later side. Two hard skiing days at altitude were definitely catching up with us, and we all needed our sleep (besides Annie, who generally rises before the alarm, much to our general amazement). We all were hitting the slopes that day, even Julia! We were pretty excited to spend at least part of the day all together on the mountain. With our meet-up plans in place, the various parties split off to try their luck on the mountain. The wind was buffeting the mountain so much so that we could see snow being scoured from the unlucky faces. Tara and Rachel put their heads together and tried to figure out where, exactly, the snow was ending up. We guessed Revelation Bowl.
Tara and Rachel gazed over the rim of Revelation, trying to see if the bowl was as buffed as they thought it might be. After about a minute of standing in the nearly howling wind, they shrugged their shoulders, muttered something about how "there's only one way to find out," and went after it. As soon as Rachel's skis left the scoured cat track, they cut through the windbuffed snow ("buff") like a hot knife through butter. The bowl was perfectly situated for maxium buff: the wind blew away all evidence of previous tracks, just as it loaded the far side with snow. Sick turn followed sick turn alongside the screaming cries of protesting leg muscles. By the time we rode the lift back to the top, our tracks had been obliterated by the wind and fresh, creamy snow was again in our path. Free refills (sort of), baby. Definitely the best snow on the mountain at that point, and yet no one was skiing it. It seemed that the very force molding the amazing, creamy buff was also keeping away the faint of heart. Epic.
Various other skiing/snowboarding things happened...
The real excitement happened later that night, at the Rubiks Cube party. The scene: about 20 twenty-somethings (mostly locals, some randos like us) dressed only in the colors that appear on a Rubiks Cube. There are 6: red, yellow, orange, white, blue, and green. Very, very bold colors. The "goal" is to switch clothes with people so that by the end of the night, you are all one color. A lot of choice can be involved, so it's not nearly as sketchy as it sounds. It did lead to a number of hilarious exchanges, however, including Karissa's [male] friend walking around in a blue velour dress over black long underwear tights for much of the night.
That was last night. Annie got a head start on most this morning and tackled one of the more challenging parts of the mountain. Sara left early as well, rocking out to her iPod and shredding some gnar gnar on her board. Tara and Rachel, on the other hand, slept in a bit and decided it was finally time for the Day of Silly. They unsnarled an unnecessarily complicated logistical question of which equipment to wear where when, ate breakfast, and embarked upon a day of discovery.
Discovery of what, you may ask? Well, we aimed to discover whether Tara still knew how to ski and whether Rachel could pick up telemark skiing by watching people from the lifts (and desperately wanting to know how to do it). Rachel rented a pair of tele skis, Tara borrowed Rachel's groomer skis. At first, the experiment didn't seem to go so well. Rachel kept overbalancing, twisting her torso too much when she pole planted and not really bending her legs enough to create a real tele turn (or lunge, for that matter). Tara seemed to be doing okay, but early questions like, "How do I turn?" made for some serious hilarity. By the end of their second amazingly long green run (about 45 minutes for the first, about half an hour for the second), both seemed to have things more or less under control. Neither were to be speed demons at any point of the day, but Rachel definitely strung together a few nice looking turns and Tara began playing around on her edges like a pro. By mid-afternoon, however, exhaustion set in and informed the switch back to regular gear. Tara, Rachel, and Annie raced down groomers to their hearts' delight and until the very last chair. It was certainly one of the most fulfilling days spent entirely on green runs an experienced skier/snowboarder could imagine.
We leave Telluride bright and early tomorrow (Monday) morning and begin our monotonous trek east. We spent most of this evening packing and organizing, though we did take a break for a lovely meal of pesto and tomato pasta (and what was left of Julia's amazing birthday cake for which Annie made delicious homemade frosting). Needless to say, it will be very difficult to leave this gorgeous place full of wonderful people.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Sunday February 1st 2009:
In Paso Robles we connected with Route One, the Pacific Coast Highway, for a more scenic drive up to northern California. Rachel maneuvered the twists and turns of the road gracefully as Tara and I admired the dramatic cliffs, spectacular waves, and burned forests that lined the roadway. In San Simeon (the location of newspaper magnet William Randolph Hurst's famous mansion known simply as Hurst's Castle) we stopped to take a gander at the Elephant Seals. Thousands of these ten to twenty foot long giant blobs of lard (my best description of an elephant seal for anyone who has never seen one) gather to sun themselves on this beach right along the road. A half-mile stretch of beach was covered almost cliff to water in these giant seals whose name comes from the elephant's trunk like apendage of the male seals. The three of us watched in awe as they struggled to move their bodies even a few feet before collapsing on the sand for another rest. Many of the females used their flippers to coat their backs in a thin layer of sand. The giant males roared loudly as they struggled to make advances on various females. It was quite a sight! I recomend checking out some of Rachel's pictures to get a better idea of what a beach full of elephant seals really looks like. After this break we continued up the coast through Big Sur which was recently struck by wildfires. It was interesting to see the path of the fire along the hillsides. In the early afternoon we arrived in Monterey (which looked like a really cute town that I would like to return to with more time to explore) to visit the Aquarium which Rachel remembered loving as a child. The aquarium was certainly worth the stop with hundreds of different fish to admire, cool creatures such as a sea cucumber to touch, an aviary, and cute otters! We even had the chance to watch a feeding in the kelp forest tank. I felt like a small child in a candy shop as my attention was drawn from tank to tank by fascinating creatures big and small. As the sun set and the aquarium was about to close we headed back to the car to continue our journey north. Our next stop was Santa Cruz for a quick dinner with Rachel's aunt Diane who recently returned from a boat trip in Mexico. As Rachel and Diane caught up, Tara and I delved into a jigsaw puzzle and before we knew it dinner was over and we were back in the car on our way to San Francisco. After a long, full day on the road we finally arrived at Chez Yay in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco where Rachel's friend Geoff and his roomates welcomed us with open arms. Before getting some much needed rest Geoff intoduced us to the wonders of DJ Earworm on YouTube. The mash-up of Billboard's Top 25 and another of many songs that use the same four chords are worth checking out. Before hitting the hay I asked Geoff about getting up to move the car in the morning to avoid a parking ticket. It is fine to go out to the car in your pajamas Geoff explained, you might even run into some naked people on your way back. I was fast asleep the second my head hit the pillow at the end of an epic day that felt more like three considering all that we accomplished.
In Paso Robles we connected with Route One, the Pacific Coast Highway, for a more scenic drive up to northern California. Rachel maneuvered the twists and turns of the road gracefully as Tara and I admired the dramatic cliffs, spectacular waves, and burned forests that lined the roadway. In San Simeon (the location of newspaper magnet William Randolph Hurst's famous mansion known simply as Hurst's Castle) we stopped to take a gander at the Elephant Seals. Thousands of these ten to twenty foot long giant blobs of lard (my best description of an elephant seal for anyone who has never seen one) gather to sun themselves on this beach right along the road. A half-mile stretch of beach was covered almost cliff to water in these giant seals whose name comes from the elephant's trunk like apendage of the male seals. The three of us watched in awe as they struggled to move their bodies even a few feet before collapsing on the sand for another rest. Many of the females used their flippers to coat their backs in a thin layer of sand. The giant males roared loudly as they struggled to make advances on various females. It was quite a sight! I recomend checking out some of Rachel's pictures to get a better idea of what a beach full of elephant seals really looks like. After this break we continued up the coast through Big Sur which was recently struck by wildfires. It was interesting to see the path of the fire along the hillsides. In the early afternoon we arrived in Monterey (which looked like a really cute town that I would like to return to with more time to explore) to visit the Aquarium which Rachel remembered loving as a child. The aquarium was certainly worth the stop with hundreds of different fish to admire, cool creatures such as a sea cucumber to touch, an aviary, and cute otters! We even had the chance to watch a feeding in the kelp forest tank. I felt like a small child in a candy shop as my attention was drawn from tank to tank by fascinating creatures big and small. As the sun set and the aquarium was about to close we headed back to the car to continue our journey north. Our next stop was Santa Cruz for a quick dinner with Rachel's aunt Diane who recently returned from a boat trip in Mexico. As Rachel and Diane caught up, Tara and I delved into a jigsaw puzzle and before we knew it dinner was over and we were back in the car on our way to San Francisco. After a long, full day on the road we finally arrived at Chez Yay in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco where Rachel's friend Geoff and his roomates welcomed us with open arms. Before getting some much needed rest Geoff intoduced us to the wonders of DJ Earworm on YouTube. The mash-up of Billboard's Top 25 and another of many songs that use the same four chords are worth checking out. Before hitting the hay I asked Geoff about getting up to move the car in the morning to avoid a parking ticket. It is fine to go out to the car in your pajamas Geoff explained, you might even run into some naked people on your way back. I was fast asleep the second my head hit the pillow at the end of an epic day that felt more like three considering all that we accomplished.
As with All Good Things...Corrections!
Annie would like the following pieces of information added to the post entitled, "The Sun Continueth":
1. We did not leave Long Beach until 4:30 in the morning, and did not arrive at her house until the even more un-G-dly hour of 5:30am. So noted.
2. As we arrived at Annie's house, we did not necessarily have to "sneak in," as the scribe put it for dramatic effect. Instead, Annie's parents actually woke up and offered us breakfast. It was amazing. We politely (we hope) declined and fell asleep. But a HUGE thanks to Mr. Schulzinger and Mrs. Pennell for their humor and understanding of the situation. We hope it was definitely worth the story.
1. We did not leave Long Beach until 4:30 in the morning, and did not arrive at her house until the even more un-G-dly hour of 5:30am. So noted.
2. As we arrived at Annie's house, we did not necessarily have to "sneak in," as the scribe put it for dramatic effect. Instead, Annie's parents actually woke up and offered us breakfast. It was amazing. We politely (we hope) declined and fell asleep. But a HUGE thanks to Mr. Schulzinger and Mrs. Pennell for their humor and understanding of the situation. We hope it was definitely worth the story.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Directions, Misdirected
March 1st
Loaded up with home baked goodies and barely able to see out the back of the car, yet again, the three headed up the 5 towards Paso Robles. Rachel took the wheel this day after Annie had done her fair share of maneuvering through crazy LA drivers. However, there was some confusion at one point where Rachel was asking if she needed to merge onto the highway, and mid-merge, Annie replies “No, no”, when the answer should have been “Yes, you are correct in going this direction”. Rachel swerves back to avoid the approaching median and narrowly misses a car in the slow lane as well as a murder of crows careening towards the windshield.
Actually, we continued in a safe manner and made the merge onto the highway without problems.
LA Adventures, continued
Saturday January 31st
The terrible three-some of Tara, Rachel, and Annie awoke not so long after they had gone to sleep... Annie woke up earlier to make sure to have some quality mommy time and Rachel and Tara struggled to stay in bed longer as the sky light in the bedroom was blinding and conned them under the covers even though there was to be another B-E-A-utiful day outside.
Breakfast on this sunny morning was some delicious waffles prepared lovingly by Annie’s mother, Mrs. Pennell. There was new tea to choose from (the plastic bag in our food crate was getting old) and slices of grapefruit with the skins removed too! (read: very tasty) Clothes were changed (we got to do laundry!), directions were gathered, and the car loaded with Annie the LA driver/chauffer behind the wheel.
After winding our way down/over/along
With palm trees lining the streets on the way we finally turned onto that glorious strip of extremely overpriced stores fit for only those that work in the most boring places. Needless to say nothing was purchased except for a Pinkberry frozen yogurt treat before having dinner at The Newsroom later that evening. Rachel considered purchasing a glorious pair of leather riding boots in case she needs the gear for horseback riding, but Annie advised her that it we already are struggling to fit the rest of the “necessary gear” in the car as it is.
The Newsroom was a cozy little place and surprisingly empty for a Saturday night. Located right across the street from The Ivy (for those of you not up on your US Weekly, this place is THE place to get your picture taken by the papparazi) we kept our eyes out for Brad Pitt or any other cute male need-to-know. Dinner was delicious and
We waved goodbye to shopping heaven and headed back to the Schulzinger residence where we tried to pack up as much crap as we could the night before we were to rise early and make our way up the California coast towards San Francisco.
A Brief Visual Interlude
More pictures are up on the Picasa web album/slideshow to the right! Check those out for some scenic shots and group pictures. Below are a few that caught our eye or need a bit more explanation.
Happy Trails!
Happy Trails!
The fantastic results of our experiments with pitch darkness, headlamps, and an incredibly slow shutter.
Big Bend NP, TX.
The blogging process, in the front seat of Hank the All-American Hybrid.
Somewhere in New Mexico.
Hank's GPS system leaves a little to be desired. When it's not telling us we're in a "Off-Road Condition," as pictured above, it tends to place the magical yellow triangle in ponds, in the middle of city blocks, or refuse to recognize totally valid addresses. It has definitely made us appreciate the wonders of old-fashioned paper maps.
Rt. 1, CA.
Twirling Tara among the Coastal Redwoods. Notice the ghost of John Muir where the back of Tara's head should be.
Muir Woods National Monument, Mill Valley, CA.
Big Bend NP, TX.
The blogging process, in the front seat of Hank the All-American Hybrid.
Somewhere in New Mexico.
Hank's GPS system leaves a little to be desired. When it's not telling us we're in a "Off-Road Condition," as pictured above, it tends to place the magical yellow triangle in ponds, in the middle of city blocks, or refuse to recognize totally valid addresses. It has definitely made us appreciate the wonders of old-fashioned paper maps.Rt. 1, CA.
Twirling Tara among the Coastal Redwoods. Notice the ghost of John Muir where the back of Tara's head should be.Muir Woods National Monument, Mill Valley, CA.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
San Diego or Bust
Hello, my people! We are clean and sleeping in fresh beds at the moment - four days of not showering will really make you glisten.
Just a quick entry to dish on the highlights of Sara and I's journey into the land across from Mexico - San Diego. It was groovy. We stayed with Sara's friend Pace, who is a Maryland transplant who is the most chill person that has ever existed. He lives in Imperial Beach - a neighborhood run by Latinos and Asians - and he's an INCREDIBLY nice, smart guy who was a phenomenal host. Staying with him for 3 days was quite possibly the funniest/most awesome experience I have ever had, and the rundown of what happened went something like this:
We arrived at his house, a glorious building oozing of a laid-back, artistic, Cali surfer vibe, and during the first 10 minutes found out that he "designs life support systems for marine animals" for a living. Dude...what? Soooo I dug further and basically, he works with filtration systems and "makes the water blue" at aquariums and other facilities. HHAHA amazing. We later asked him how long he'd been at his place, and he said several months, and that when he first heard about the place, he didn't want to bother moving into it because "Did you see the 200 - lb fish tank downstairs?" So random. Oh yeah he also has piranhas in the living room.
So our first he took us down to Imperial Beach, where Sara and I dug our feet in the sand and seriously, it was like we had never felt sand before. WE MADE IT TO THE PACIFIC! Wheeeeeeee! We walked along the boardwalk, and about halfway through Pace hopped over the "Do Not Cross" railing and perched on a teeny-tiny little deck that, by the way, had no railings whatsoever. Sara and I followed, because I mean what the hell we are in San Diego, right? So we crossed, and we inched our way over to an even teeny-tinier segment where there was maaaaybe 2 feet of plank between us and being battered into little pieces of flesh by the Pacific Ocean. It was, needless to say, sketchy. But only the first of many sketchy things to be done whilst being toured by Pace....
The Pacific Ocean was INCREDIBLE, by the way, and we watched the waves crashing from behind which was a spectacular, mesmerizing experience. What lives down there? What is there right now? What does it feel like? How cold is it? SO MANY QUESTIONS AHH. I will say that after having gotten used to small bodies of water like the Chesapeake and the Chester River, it was pretty mind-blowing to see water on such a large scale. Kinda like when I ordered a large fountain soda and thought it was big, only to see a trucker the next day with a Big Gulp that was bigger than Annie's head. Yeah, kinda like that.
The next day we met up with Tara, Rachel and Annie and went animal perusing at the San Diego Wildlife Park. Saw some pretty beastly animals...California condor...fat rhinos...awkward giraffes. We got to pet some African gazelle in a petting corral (more or less), and Sara had no part in it. She does not do animals. On burgers and without cheese, but not when they are living.
DAY 2: LA JOLLA. Sketchy adventures Part Dos. Pace took us here without really telling us anything beforehand (which is pretty much how the whole SD trip went: Pace just kind of assuming we knew what he was talking about). We figured since we were going to a beach we might be going on a nice little stroll, which it started out as. Until, that is, he opened the gate and told us we had to crab-walk down the muddy, beach cliff. That worked out fairly well, and Sara and I did our thing, until we came to a steep spot where Pace told us "Alright, dude, see - this rope isn't gonna go anywhere. It's been here for a long time but you just gotta go down it as if it's gonna break on you any second. And if you fall, fall on your face. Cause if you fall on your back - it's all over. Ok?" If I could draw you a stick picture of this rope, it wouldn't take very long because it was just some old line that some person tied onto a rock years ago. Very frayed, but oh man no biggie, because it was tied to other ropes that were supporting it and were equally as frayed. This was shady. I'm sitting here writing this blog now so I made it out alive, and even though she slipped towards the end and dangled as she hung on, Sara totally made it too. It was all worth it, and we found a nice little spot in the sun next to the anemones...
(Earlier that day we also had lunch with Pace's roommate, OG, a super nice guy with long dreads and a funky demeanor. We talked to him for a while, asked him how he knew Pace, etc etc.
.....And then found out from Pace two days later that he's the percussionist for Slightly Stoopid. What!!??!) Anyways...
That night after the Beach Cliff Incident, Pace kept talking about "going to TG's", and again, just kind of assumed that Sara and I knew what he was talking about. He wasn't really talking to us about TG's, but more he was talking to his roommate so we never really had a great opportunity to ask what the hell TG's was. A bar? Someone's house? A restaurant? After much confusion we went and found out that it was a guy's house, and the house was a trip in itself. It was right on the beach, and was filled with surfing trophies and painted canvases. Everyone there - from the people our age to the people in their 50s - was welcoming to us, and the California-surfer-hippie scene was incredibly interesting. I soaked it up while I could....and on a side note, Pace definitely made a lot more sense after we met his dad and uncle. There were a lot of bizarre things that happened that night, but what was most random was that we had gathered for the purpose of watching a championship UFC match, which we did, and learned about. Did you know that in UFC, you can't gouge out eyes, or make any crotch shots? Other than that, it's allll open, men. I left early to pass out as I was exhausted, but Sara stayed at the chill UFC house and hustled some older men out of $80 in poker. Baller!!!
OOH yes, I forgot to mention that Pace also showed us his "Spooner Lab", which was a feast for the eyes. He, his uncle, and his friend started a company where they make, essentially, skateboards without wheels, that they sell as boards to ride on. He told us that the idea derived from when he, his buddy, and uncle were messing around one day and cut the top off of a dig igloo. It's a really creative invention, and he gave us two to take on our merry way. We tried it out at one of the National Parks...we dug it. This is the website: http://shop.thespooner.us/main.sc go! seek! the spooner!
So, that was pretty much it. Yeah, nothing much interesting happened at all. It was really dull.
Good thing we at least now know who to call when we need our whale shark tanks filtered.
xx, Julia
(PS - Everyone go to San Diego! It's muy bueno.)
Just a quick entry to dish on the highlights of Sara and I's journey into the land across from Mexico - San Diego. It was groovy. We stayed with Sara's friend Pace, who is a Maryland transplant who is the most chill person that has ever existed. He lives in Imperial Beach - a neighborhood run by Latinos and Asians - and he's an INCREDIBLY nice, smart guy who was a phenomenal host. Staying with him for 3 days was quite possibly the funniest/most awesome experience I have ever had, and the rundown of what happened went something like this:
We arrived at his house, a glorious building oozing of a laid-back, artistic, Cali surfer vibe, and during the first 10 minutes found out that he "designs life support systems for marine animals" for a living. Dude...what? Soooo I dug further and basically, he works with filtration systems and "makes the water blue" at aquariums and other facilities. HHAHA amazing. We later asked him how long he'd been at his place, and he said several months, and that when he first heard about the place, he didn't want to bother moving into it because "Did you see the 200 - lb fish tank downstairs?" So random. Oh yeah he also has piranhas in the living room.
So our first he took us down to Imperial Beach, where Sara and I dug our feet in the sand and seriously, it was like we had never felt sand before. WE MADE IT TO THE PACIFIC! Wheeeeeeee! We walked along the boardwalk, and about halfway through Pace hopped over the "Do Not Cross" railing and perched on a teeny-tiny little deck that, by the way, had no railings whatsoever. Sara and I followed, because I mean what the hell we are in San Diego, right? So we crossed, and we inched our way over to an even teeny-tinier segment where there was maaaaybe 2 feet of plank between us and being battered into little pieces of flesh by the Pacific Ocean. It was, needless to say, sketchy. But only the first of many sketchy things to be done whilst being toured by Pace....
The Pacific Ocean was INCREDIBLE, by the way, and we watched the waves crashing from behind which was a spectacular, mesmerizing experience. What lives down there? What is there right now? What does it feel like? How cold is it? SO MANY QUESTIONS AHH. I will say that after having gotten used to small bodies of water like the Chesapeake and the Chester River, it was pretty mind-blowing to see water on such a large scale. Kinda like when I ordered a large fountain soda and thought it was big, only to see a trucker the next day with a Big Gulp that was bigger than Annie's head. Yeah, kinda like that.
The next day we met up with Tara, Rachel and Annie and went animal perusing at the San Diego Wildlife Park. Saw some pretty beastly animals...California condor...fat rhinos...awkward giraffes. We got to pet some African gazelle in a petting corral (more or less), and Sara had no part in it. She does not do animals. On burgers and without cheese, but not when they are living.
DAY 2: LA JOLLA. Sketchy adventures Part Dos. Pace took us here without really telling us anything beforehand (which is pretty much how the whole SD trip went: Pace just kind of assuming we knew what he was talking about). We figured since we were going to a beach we might be going on a nice little stroll, which it started out as. Until, that is, he opened the gate and told us we had to crab-walk down the muddy, beach cliff. That worked out fairly well, and Sara and I did our thing, until we came to a steep spot where Pace told us "Alright, dude, see - this rope isn't gonna go anywhere. It's been here for a long time but you just gotta go down it as if it's gonna break on you any second. And if you fall, fall on your face. Cause if you fall on your back - it's all over. Ok?" If I could draw you a stick picture of this rope, it wouldn't take very long because it was just some old line that some person tied onto a rock years ago. Very frayed, but oh man no biggie, because it was tied to other ropes that were supporting it and were equally as frayed. This was shady. I'm sitting here writing this blog now so I made it out alive, and even though she slipped towards the end and dangled as she hung on, Sara totally made it too. It was all worth it, and we found a nice little spot in the sun next to the anemones...
(Earlier that day we also had lunch with Pace's roommate, OG, a super nice guy with long dreads and a funky demeanor. We talked to him for a while, asked him how he knew Pace, etc etc.
.....And then found out from Pace two days later that he's the percussionist for Slightly Stoopid. What!!??!) Anyways...
That night after the Beach Cliff Incident, Pace kept talking about "going to TG's", and again, just kind of assumed that Sara and I knew what he was talking about. He wasn't really talking to us about TG's, but more he was talking to his roommate so we never really had a great opportunity to ask what the hell TG's was. A bar? Someone's house? A restaurant? After much confusion we went and found out that it was a guy's house, and the house was a trip in itself. It was right on the beach, and was filled with surfing trophies and painted canvases. Everyone there - from the people our age to the people in their 50s - was welcoming to us, and the California-surfer-hippie scene was incredibly interesting. I soaked it up while I could....and on a side note, Pace definitely made a lot more sense after we met his dad and uncle. There were a lot of bizarre things that happened that night, but what was most random was that we had gathered for the purpose of watching a championship UFC match, which we did, and learned about. Did you know that in UFC, you can't gouge out eyes, or make any crotch shots? Other than that, it's allll open, men. I left early to pass out as I was exhausted, but Sara stayed at the chill UFC house and hustled some older men out of $80 in poker. Baller!!!
OOH yes, I forgot to mention that Pace also showed us his "Spooner Lab", which was a feast for the eyes. He, his uncle, and his friend started a company where they make, essentially, skateboards without wheels, that they sell as boards to ride on. He told us that the idea derived from when he, his buddy, and uncle were messing around one day and cut the top off of a dig igloo. It's a really creative invention, and he gave us two to take on our merry way. We tried it out at one of the National Parks...we dug it. This is the website: http://shop.thespooner.us/main.sc go! seek! the spooner!
So, that was pretty much it. Yeah, nothing much interesting happened at all. It was really dull.
Good thing we at least now know who to call when we need our whale shark tanks filtered.
xx, Julia
(PS - Everyone go to San Diego! It's muy bueno.)
The Sun Continueth
After our freezing night in New Mexico, we continued to be shocked by the amazingly warm weather in southern California. We split up, with Sara and Julia spending most of their time in San Diego while Annie, Tara, and Rachel used Annie's parents' house as a base.
The LA threesome's most epic adventure began as any other day would, except with delicious peeled grapefruit sections, tasty tea, and homemade granola. We ventured south to meet up with Julia and Sara at the San Diego Wild Animal Park, where we were met with the raucous calls of African jungle birds in the aviary. As soon as we were all together, we wandered down to the "Journey into Africa" tram, basically a glorified people transporter that you might see at Disney World or Six Flags. This one, however, took us through huge open enclosures teeming with African wildlife, not between the parking lot and the park's entrance gate. We saw countless types of antelopes, and learned more than we really wanted to know about the various mating habits of giraffes. One antelope in particular caught our eye: the springbok. The dominant male spends most of his time chasing away the less dominant males from his herd of females. Not only do they run, but they sort of hop on four springy legs. Quite hilarious to watch. After our approximated safari experience, we wandered around and looked for more animals. Our park visit ended with a ride on the "Conservation Carousel," a few minutes before the park closed.
We parted ways with the San Diego crew again, and headed to Solana Beach for incredible pizza (garlic and some other veggies) and delicious beer (an amazing in-house ESB) with Rachel's friend Jessie. We thoroughly enjoyed the SoCal surfer scene, though it was a little weird to be watching snowboarding on the TVs interspersed around the noisy, vibrant restaurant. After dinner, we wandered down to the beach (Rachel, to Jessie: "Is there a beach here?" Jessie: "It's called Solana Beach"). We felt right at home down on the beach, above which a "failing bluff" kept watch.
These activities already would make for a pretty full and satisfactory day. But no, it wasn't enough. Tara still wanted to connect with her friend Robbie, who it seemed would be in the Long Beach area at some point later that night. So after parting ways with Jessie (and Annie getting New Hampshire for her license plate list!), we headed up to Long Beach. We arrived without knowing where, exactly, in Long Beach Robbie was supposed to arrive. So we took Jessie's suggestion and stopped for the delectable concoction of frozen yogurt and random toppings that has turned into a nation-wide fad. It was quite delicious.
Suddenly, in the midst of our yogurt, we received the info we needed. We went down to the apartment and met up with Robbie and Ben, two Sandy Spring guys, and some others. As soon as we walked into their apartment, a high speed chase broadcast on the TV demanded our attention. It seemed that this crazy guy was trying to outrun a set of cops on SURFACE STREETS in LONG BEACH. Surface streets on which we had just been driving. We, needless to say, felt pretty connected to the whole thing. From high speed chase, our night only got better with a trip to a divey-yet-sceney Long Beach bar. A pretty sweet band was playing, we stood around for a while talking, and generally had a good time. Until last call. Around 2am. And we were still in Long Beach. About an hour away from our beds.
We all walked back to Ben's apartment, and continued talking. We somehow got involved in some pretty in-depth conversations about string theory, fractals, and gay rights. Somehow they all related to each other. Needless to say, it took a while to unravel the intricacies involved, and so we didn't end up leaving until about 4am. Annie, Tara, and Rachel had a pretty giddy and surprisingly alert ride back to Studio City, where sleep awaited. We arrived a little after 5am, giving at least Rachel (and probably Annie and Tara as well) the novel experience of sneaking into a house that late. It was definitely one for the record books.
The LA threesome's most epic adventure began as any other day would, except with delicious peeled grapefruit sections, tasty tea, and homemade granola. We ventured south to meet up with Julia and Sara at the San Diego Wild Animal Park, where we were met with the raucous calls of African jungle birds in the aviary. As soon as we were all together, we wandered down to the "Journey into Africa" tram, basically a glorified people transporter that you might see at Disney World or Six Flags. This one, however, took us through huge open enclosures teeming with African wildlife, not between the parking lot and the park's entrance gate. We saw countless types of antelopes, and learned more than we really wanted to know about the various mating habits of giraffes. One antelope in particular caught our eye: the springbok. The dominant male spends most of his time chasing away the less dominant males from his herd of females. Not only do they run, but they sort of hop on four springy legs. Quite hilarious to watch. After our approximated safari experience, we wandered around and looked for more animals. Our park visit ended with a ride on the "Conservation Carousel," a few minutes before the park closed.
We parted ways with the San Diego crew again, and headed to Solana Beach for incredible pizza (garlic and some other veggies) and delicious beer (an amazing in-house ESB) with Rachel's friend Jessie. We thoroughly enjoyed the SoCal surfer scene, though it was a little weird to be watching snowboarding on the TVs interspersed around the noisy, vibrant restaurant. After dinner, we wandered down to the beach (Rachel, to Jessie: "Is there a beach here?" Jessie: "It's called Solana Beach"). We felt right at home down on the beach, above which a "failing bluff" kept watch.
These activities already would make for a pretty full and satisfactory day. But no, it wasn't enough. Tara still wanted to connect with her friend Robbie, who it seemed would be in the Long Beach area at some point later that night. So after parting ways with Jessie (and Annie getting New Hampshire for her license plate list!), we headed up to Long Beach. We arrived without knowing where, exactly, in Long Beach Robbie was supposed to arrive. So we took Jessie's suggestion and stopped for the delectable concoction of frozen yogurt and random toppings that has turned into a nation-wide fad. It was quite delicious.
Suddenly, in the midst of our yogurt, we received the info we needed. We went down to the apartment and met up with Robbie and Ben, two Sandy Spring guys, and some others. As soon as we walked into their apartment, a high speed chase broadcast on the TV demanded our attention. It seemed that this crazy guy was trying to outrun a set of cops on SURFACE STREETS in LONG BEACH. Surface streets on which we had just been driving. We, needless to say, felt pretty connected to the whole thing. From high speed chase, our night only got better with a trip to a divey-yet-sceney Long Beach bar. A pretty sweet band was playing, we stood around for a while talking, and generally had a good time. Until last call. Around 2am. And we were still in Long Beach. About an hour away from our beds.
We all walked back to Ben's apartment, and continued talking. We somehow got involved in some pretty in-depth conversations about string theory, fractals, and gay rights. Somehow they all related to each other. Needless to say, it took a while to unravel the intricacies involved, and so we didn't end up leaving until about 4am. Annie, Tara, and Rachel had a pretty giddy and surprisingly alert ride back to Studio City, where sleep awaited. We arrived a little after 5am, giving at least Rachel (and probably Annie and Tara as well) the novel experience of sneaking into a house that late. It was definitely one for the record books.
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