the lost coast - day two

The morning of day two was cold and clean and heavy with moisture. I think I leaned up against the side of the tent during the night, and as a result the condensation pooled and soaked through my sleeping bag and led to my rising early. I unzipped the tent, stepped clumsily over Andy, and went poking around the area surrounding the campsite.

Drops of moisture were everywhere, hanging off of evergreen tips, suspended on tree branches. I sipped some drops off of trees as I followed the scent of ceanothus and examined all the lichens and flowers and stones underfoot. I took care of morning business and listened to the stream running off into the rolling ocean waves, and after all this quiet time I picked my way back to the tent to find Andy starting up some coffee and squinting at me through eyes that had been in a deep sleep only moments before. We had a hot breakfast of oatmeal and torn-up dried apricots, swiss cheese croissants and coffee and spiced tea, then Andy packed up the tent and we readied ourselves for the second day of hiking.

Did I mention the black sand beaches? I love that this beach exists. I want to visit every beach with black sand in the world. There would be stretches of this sand, then outcroppings of boulders, then fields of medium-to-large rocks, and this constant change in terrain really wore out my feet, but the change kept it interesting. And then there would be breaks along the beach and the cliffs where the streams cut through and run out to the ocean and some of these were so gorgeous we would stop just to stare and take it in.

About midday we began to notice the tide pools on the edges of the shore, and we would take breaks to explore them. We saw one ochre sea star, a lot of mussels and snails, kelp and various seaweeds. We spotted one sea urchin rasping along a rock and cormorants and seagulls flying and taking breaks on some of the bigger boulders at sea. Since the tide had gone out tons of sea treasures were left strewn on the beach and gave us new things to focus on...so fun!

Walking along the beach got old (wet sand and heavy packs, ooog) so it was great to go up into the hills covered in wildflowers (hooray!) and poison oak (nooo) and trek along on dirt for a while. And with the mist rolling off the mountains towards the shore, the sun intermittently shining hard and then peeking out from behind sheets of grey clouds, day two was a pleasant and almost easy hike compared to day one...!

the lost coast

Ten days ago I drove up to Berkeley to embark on a backpacking/camping trip with Andy to the Lost Coast in Northern California! Once at Berkeley we assessed all of our supplies and packed and repacked our clothes, food, and camping gear until everything was in order. The next morning we were off! It took us 5 hours to drive up to the trailhead to a community called Shelter Cove, the starting point of our 23 mile hike. It was immediately a sight to behold, with shores of black sand strewn with giant driftwood trees and branches, tumultuous waves of "unusual size" and awe-inspiring forests that seemed to grow right up against the shore.

The only thought looming on my mind once we had our packs on, as we started our hike, was that we'd gotten to the trailhead a little later than anticipated, thanks to an unreliable map and our own hesitancy, and the tide had already started to come in. Though we had read many warnings about hiking the "impassable at high tide" strip against the incoming tide, we determined that we'd make it albeit narrowly, so we trekked something like 9 miles in about 4.5 hours.

It was difficult. I was totally unused to hiking with a big pack on, nor stomping on damp sand, or scrambling over boulders and rocks with said pack strapped on. I could feel angry spots on my feet already forming, which an icy stream crossing or two unfortunately couldn't help. We passed a group of six stopping for lunch, and worried about if they'd be able to make it with several miles to go and time against them. Andy was calm and encouraging, but I was nervous and stressed about my greenness in backpacking and helplessness against the ocean. After rounding corner after endless rocky corner (though maybe it was like...six of them) we finally made it past the impassable zone, to a delta where a river flowed out to the ocean.

We stopped to make camp. Andy scoped out several areas while I sat and massaged my sore feet, and then after crossing the stream to assess these areas, we decided on a clearing surrounded by scraggly trees and lush shrubs, close enough to the ocean to hear the pounding surf, close to the river to hear it rushing along, and near some abandoned otter burrows (?) of some sort. Andy pitched the tent (I helped a little bit) and then we tucked in to a delicious hot meal of reconstituted freeze-dried lasagna, which was amazing after our long day. After dinner I settled in, exhausted, and watched Andy build a tiny fire. I remember I could hear it crackling in the cold air - I was happy to be on this trip, and happy that we made good strides on our first day.

'i'll be still, won't say a word'

 These are from last month, on a morning that I thought I would go to the beach at dawn to see the sunrise. Though, don't be fooled - I was already up to take someone to the airport, so feeling wide-eyed at 5 AM was already on the table. I drove up the Malibu coast, parked my car, and slept in the front until the sun broke through the clouds. The morning was incredibly serene. No one else was at the beach save for a few paddlers floating off towards the horizon, and one lone fisherman who silently arrived and set up his tackle not too long after daybreak.

I thought about myself, I thought about the people in my life. The ones who keep me going, the ones who've held me back/brought me down. There's something about early morning that brings such clarity to thoughts and feelings. I thought of the people I let go of, with tinges of regret or uncertainty. I thought of the blossoming and evolving friendships I have with others, and how I could cultivate and nurture those relationships. A month later, I feel no regrets or uncertainty about who to keep to the right and who to place to the left (or far behind me!).

I had a conversation with a friend back east, and upon mentioning a mutual acquaintance he asked if I would ever pick up where I left off with this person, try to rebuild our friendship and I immediately said fuck no. Unfortunately or fortunately I've learned that reconciliation with some people is either impossible or detrimental, depending on what the circumstances were. I believe in 'forgive and forget' but with a slight modification within that statement - forgive the other person, and then forget them. Does this sound bleak and jaded? I don't think so - just careful.

With all this being said I don't in any way mean to make myself sound like a martyr for relationships. I'm not untouchable, I'm flawed, I fuck up and I certainly deal with the cards I am dealt as best as I can. I'm glad to face adversity as long as I conquer it and am able to look back on it and say 'Yes, I learned quite a lesson back there.' I try not to dwell, and though I visit the past more often than I'd like to it's for the sake of perspective and not wallowing. I think my life is pretty great, mostly out of luck and because I make up for the rest of it by trying to be the best of myself and working like I have something to prove. I can always work harder, though.

we meet again, st. louis

I was in St. Louis over the weekend to witness the union of one of my oldest and dearest friends to his beautiful bride and partner, on the campus of Washington University where they met during their undergrad. It was such an exciting and beautiful way to start off the month of March!

The first time I traveled to the city was four years ago by way of Kansas City from Los Angeles on a 30-hour train ride. That time I was in the city for less than 15 hours and it wasn't nearly as frozen as it was this past weekend, for back when I went it was early spring rather than mid-winter (although I know it is technically spring right now!). I shared a hotel room with another close friend of the groom, and over an evening of zucchini and portobello fries and beer we became fast friends. This time it was her first visit in the city, so the morning of the wedding we decided to go see the Gateway Arch and visit the St. Louis Art Museum. We rode the subway east which was packed with people, which puzzled me until I realized that it was Mardi Gras. I didn't even realize this until I looked more closely at the throngs of people outfitted in purple, gold and green and giddy with the prospects of the day. My new friend chatted with some locals and they showed her their beads and their energy was crazy and infectious. We strolled over to the arch after making our stop, took silly pictures, and upon realizing that we wouldn't make it to the museum, took our time on getting back and wandered around St. Louis.

I feel a little older after this weekend, which I guess is apt for having just attended the first real wedding of someone I know, one of my best friends. The sudden realization hit me that this is only the first of such ceremonies that will occur amongst my peers, which is kind of exciting (I guess). I found myself getting extremely emotional all throughout - so much that I would look away to quell the tears, but then I would tell myself, "No! Stay in the moment!" and just keep watching as my eyes continued to mist over. I may have to go to St. Louis one more time in the future, to see that damn museum, and to visit the newlyweds again on a more relaxed time schedule. Until then...!

sunrise at vasquez rocks

This past Sunday, Andy and I awoke at 4:30 AM to haul ass to Vasquez Rocks State Park in Santa Clarita. It was pitch black as we hurtled up the highway, and our only imperative was to make it before the sun rose up over those hills. Andy had packed us a picnic lunch the night before, and I prepared thermoses of hot tea the morning of...! It was still dark when we got to the park but as dawn drew nearer, the sky went from black to inky blue and gradually began to lighten. Andy pointed out the Pacific Crest Trail running through the park as we picked our way through scrubby junipers and sagebrush and felt that strong silent hum of dawn thrumming through our bodies.

The sun was supposed to rise at 6:37 but it felt like it happened ten minutes after that. We wondered aloud what sunrise really means - when the sun is over the horizon, right? But I guess it's a bit more subtle when you're eagerly anticipating it.

Of course when the sun did pour its rays over the peaks and washed over the hills and rocks and dips in the land, they were a beautiful rosy hue, tinged with gold, flaring off into tangerine halos. I am consistently thrilled by daybreak and how it swiftly and powerfully it really does make itself known.

It was a great decision to get to Vasquez Rocks early, before that dry heat set in. After scaling incredibly steep bluffs and eating our picnic lunch-now-breakfast, Andy showed me how much of a mountain goat he really is as he hopped around me, encouraging my ascent to that one large peak shown right above as I clutched at the sandstone for handholds, footholds, and stayed as close to the rock face as I could. We surveyed the alien landscape around us and watched cars slowly file in to the park as we packed up and readied our exit. Overall 10/10, would come again.

down, but not out

This year has been a doozy so far, and even on the last day of the month I feel like I'm running on vapors. It's been a hell of a time with a bum foot, trying not to go stir crazy staying off it, then hobbling around once the swelling and bruising goes down. Slowly but surely it's on the mend, after the first two weeks of full ice baths, lots of Advil every day and elevating/staying off it.

Other notable "injuries" have been in the vein of relationships - ones that need pruning, fertilization, elimination. There really comes a time when you notice you've outgrown a person, and depending on the wants and needs of each party, and how the overall dynamic is, you begin to realize what steps need to be taken to continue on or part ways in the best manner. Sacrificing your own feelings of contentment or happiness for the sake of another is never acceptable once it starts to go only one way. For friendships, romantic relationships, professional relationships. Never go out of your way for anyone unless you know it is really being appreciated. I could go on, but for the sake of toning down a rant/lecture that no one wants to hear, I will keep it at that. Know your worth and your limits, know your weaknesses, work on improving those lesser qualities, and be good to yourself.

Happy New Year.

desert riding

Thursday evening after work, a quick trip to the store for victuals and a half hour of frenzied packing, I hopped into a truck lugging a trailer of motorcycles and discarded/salvaged Christmas trees and went with Andy and Kyle to their usual campsite east of the Salton Sea. We pitched the tent by candle-(flash) light and I fell asleep inside while the others caught up with their old friends who had already been on site since earlier that day.

In the morning I went on a bleary-eyed walk with Andy, yawning and shuffling along through the desert already blazing with the sun's heat at 8 AM. We picked up rocks and discussed the coming activities for the day, and Andy described the lay of the land as we crunched along.

Andy showed me how to start up, and shift gears on a quadrunner, and I puttered around in the stretch of the canyon, getting stuck in a bush and backing out of it, and getting used to steering this funny teal 4-wheeled ATV with a Misfits sticker on its front. A few hours later, everyone was ready for a ride and, after searching for a particular canyon campsite, we went on to Lookout Point. It was tricky to get up there, and I did alright that day (but the next day wouldn't be the same story...!). Everyone in the party had years of motorcycling experience so it was exhilarating and intimidating seeing everyone in their element out there.

We made it back and as I took off my helmet and gloves, I noticed my hair thick and gritty with the dust it picked up on the ride. Andy noticed it too and chimed, "I've decided I rather like you with grey hair!" Unrelated to that comment, it stayed pretty grey for the rest of the weekend.