If you ever find yourself in the Southern Central Coast of California, I highly recommend a peek at Jalama Beach. The beach is good for surfers, families, camping (park fees apply) and all around hanging out. Just a few miles south of Lompoc off Highway 1, Jalama Road - which takes you out to the beach, winds through some beautiful ranch and farm land on the way out to the coast.
If you're traveling thru on a weekend between June and November, make sure to stop at the Jalama Road Family Farmstand. Good people selling some of their delicious farm fresh produce, beans, eggs, honey, jams and more. A very cool operation, partially run by the Malloy family - who readers may recall I'm a big fan of - there isn't a cashier or a "sales associate". You pay by the honor system, placing cash in a little lock box and noting what you purchased on a note pad.
Yeah, well....so much for the regular posts here. I guess they will just happen when they happen. While probably not in the "how to create a successful following on the interwebs" user manual, I will humbly request that my readers take a slightly zen approach to my work here. The river will flow when the water makes its way down from the mountain.
For a slightly more regular transmission pattern, keep an eye on my tweets @onesteelhead and also check in with me on instagram under that same username. But here we go...more Oregon photos from this past August.
We moved on from Portland after enjoying the city and it's many fine eateries. For a relatively small city, Portland has some killer cuisine - spanning the range from food truck to 3 star Michelin guide restaurants. And its all good. But before leaving town for some spots slightly more rugged, I made sure to get a shot of Portlandia herself. We hit Silver Falls State Park and did the Trail of Ten Falls Loop. As the wildly creative name would suggest, there are ten water falls that provide great scenery on this moderately easy loop hike. Next up was a stay on the Rouge River near Gold Beach at the very posh but still laid back Tu Tu Tun Lodge. We paddled and swam in the river. I managed to visit the ER in Gold Beach - but x-rays proved negative. Enjoy.
First up, the goddess of...er, something...Portlandia
Next 4 - Silver Falls State Park
Next 4 - Tu Tu Tun grounds; Rouge River dock; Claire (my wife) paddles; smashed instep on ice (but still happy)
Took a two week trip through the Pacific Northwest in early August. Started off with a few days in Seattle and then headed South into Oregon for the remaining ten or eleven days. The next several blog posts will be pictures and some quick notes from the trip. Wait, did I just say the next several...this blog has been dormant for several months now, so I understand any skepticism that may meet that statement. Let's just say I'm making a concerted effort to carve out some time for creative endeavors and documenting some of the things in life that I have fun doing. As usual, we'll see where it goes. Right now, let's start the Oregon trail...in Washington.
Seattle is one of those comfortable towns where doing a cheesy touristy thing is actually not so bad. One that's pretty well known but still a little off-the-beaten-path is the Underground Seattle walking tour, where you literally get to see the city beneath the city.
The Ballard Locks are surprisingly fun. Joining Puget Sound with Lake Union, it's a small scale Panama Canal. Well, sort of...without the drama, international commerce, and tropical scenery...but you get the idea. One of the cool things is the fish ladder they built along with the locks for the Salmon returning from the ocean to spawn. I waited to try to snap a shot of a Steelhead or Chinook leaping his way up the ladder, but no such luck or patience was mine.
Underwater view of a Salmon who made it up the ladder and pushes on towards Lake Union.
Seattle is a nice sized city with a relaxed pace, lots of good places to eat and plenty of cups of coffee. But after a few days it was time to head South. Our first stop in Oregon was a place where the bicycle is quite popular...any guesses?
I know you've got this one figured out already...but the official answer must wait until our next installment of the Oregon Trail.
I used to have a blog dedicated entirely to the world of wine. I also used to work at a small winery. I don't do either any longer. But I'm still drinking wine.
The thing with wine, and the reason I got a little burned out on blogging about it, is that it all boils to down to taste and yet we all seem hell-bent on proving why the wine we like is the best. It's a game you cannot win. I'll use a totally different, yet strangely similar, subject to make the point. You like Kenny G, I like John Coltrane. Now, I know that Coltrane trumps Mr G. But there is no math to point to, there is no actual score. Taste be taste. Go spin your Kenny G if you must (but really, I hope not).
So anyway, I know what I know and I like what I like. The interwebs are filled with people arguing about stupid shit. The world of wine, while presumably the domain of the elite and educated, is no different. There are chat threads where Robert Parker is the villain and others where Neil Rosenthal is the bad guy. For the record, I like the wines Neil imports, and I avoid many of the top "Parker Point" wines. I'm just tired of arguing about the reasons why.
The nice thing about wine is you decide. The subject can be quite complex and a person can get in deep. But at the end of the trail I hope you're at least drinking something you like and not simply trying to defend a philosophy all the way to your grave.
I'm planning on making the odd post here and there about wines that I really like. I'll kick things off here by saying that if I could only drink one wine it would definitely be this one.
Spent a few days earlier this week in the desert this week. The desert is definitely home to all sorts of misfits, crazies, extreme personalities, and your basic loners. Oh, and then there is the retirement community to add to the mix. I always seem to spend half my time in the desert just tripping on the people who call the place home. For sure, I always feel like an outsider. There is a solid line of demarcation between those who are in the desert temporarily and those who are dwelling there on a permanent basis.
But with scenery and geography like this, any human oddities and awkward interactions are easy enough to deal with.
Along the trail up Mt Ryan in Joshua Tree National Park.
Top of Mt Ryan and views out into the endless landscape.
Looking down while heading up Mt San Jacinto via the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway.
Sunset on top of Mt San Jacinto.
Speaking of deserts...I tweeted yesterday that every man, woman and child should be checking out Jimmy Chin when cruising on the interwebs. Just to whet your tastes a bit more - check out this short movie set in the Ennedi Desert by Jimmy & the Camp 4 Collective.
Towers of the Ennedi features Alex Honnold, who readers may recall being featured on 60 minutes as that guy who climbs mountains without ropes or safety lines. When I watch him do his thing I get hot and begin to sweat in a not so pleasant way. Still, I'm fascinated and can't turn away. For Alex it's all "chill". Weird. Like big wave surfers, these types of climbers are definitely born and not made.
OK, this is pretty lightweight, but as the MacDonald's ads say - I'm loving it.
For those of you might care, or might care to remember, or have tried but are unable to forget...David Caruso was once a hot television actor who poo-pooed television acting and went for the gold of movie acting. Only someone figured out he wasn't so much of an actor and so he went slinking back to television and traded in his big screen dreams for a pair of sunglasses and the cheese.
How awesome is it that Lisbeth Salander has a Wikipedia page? A fictional character from The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo/Millennium Series books, Lisbeth has enough spirit to inhabit several "real" people. Yes, this is a dangerous woman. But not in the tired old Femme Fatale mold.
A lot can and has been said about Lisbeth Salander. While there is so much to like about this character, what I find especially appealing is that she fights back. Lisbeth Salander fights back hard. Is there anything more disgusting in the human realm than the way many men treat women? I'm not talking about talk - sure, words can hurt. But actual physical intimidation and bodily harm is far more brutal and common place than any decent person would care to know about. Understanding that there will always be a physical disadvantage, and cowardly males willingly to exploit this difference, Salander has no qualms with picking up a broken bottle to level the playing field.
Add to this fighting attitude a list that includes: whip-smart, irreverent, intense, curious, uniquely attractive, brutally honest...Lisbeth - you had me at broken bottle!
In a nod to Lisbeth's computer hacking, the above drawing was lifted from this site.
Yeah, yeah...I know the Millennium Series books were a huge deal a couple of years ago and everybody and their brother was reading them. What can I say? I tend to run a bit outside the pack and often find things when I find them. Sometimes I'm an early adapter. Other times I stare blankly and mutter wha? to unimpressed hipsters. But if you haven't read any of the books or seen any of the films, I highly recommend them. Having rented all three of the Swedish movies and also watched David Fincher's US version of ...Dragon Tattoo, I can say they're all good with a straight face. Faithful to the spirit of the books and totally engaging.
There are far better authorities on the Millennium Series and author Stieg Larsson than me, but I will relay this one fact that also hooked me into this series and Lisbeth. As a teenager attending a summer camp in Sweden, Stieg Larsson witnessed the gang rape of a young girl. He froze. He did nothing. The girl's name was Lisbeth. This event haunted him for the rest of his life, and he ended up writing the Millennium Series and naming the heroine after this girl in what I suspect was a cathartic act and attempt at some sort of redemption for failing to act. Straight to the point right out of the gate, the original Swedish title of The Girl With TheDragon Tattoo is Men Who Hate Women. While he may have been too frightened as a teenager, as an adult, much like Lisbeth Salander, Larsson pulled no punches when confronting cruelty and injustice - particularly the kind that too many men inflict on too many women.
We need more dangerous writers. We need more dangerous women.
I'm not a big fan of the term "real men". There are certain subtexts to when and how this type of phrase is used that I'm just not comfortable with. Too many homophobic, narrow minded folk are champions of this kind of talk. Which is too bad, because I do identify with a certain feeling that many men have sort of lost their way in modern society. I fully include myself in this assessment. Case in point: I don't really know how to do a lot of things with my hands, fix things, take apart things, build things. I would like to work with my hands more. I'm working on changing that a little bit every day. But as odd as this may sound, it's work trying to find time for good old fashioned work.
I love working. I've got to work everyday with my hands. Even if I am doing paperwork all day, I've got to go home and chop vegetables or something. It's really important to me. ~ Yvonne Chouinard, founder of Patagonia, surfer, climber, blacksmith, man.
Yes! Even right now, I wish I was doing something more physical. But here I am - sitting at the computer, typing. This strange impulse to communicate getting in the way...
My job involves computers, data, automated processes, phone calls and paper. Not exactly the manly-man-world. It's the modern world, convenient, allows for a pay check, and very easy to feel lost in. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only dude out there feeling like this. To be clear, I have no desire to swing backwards as far as to become a cave-man. This is some stupid shit to want to do. I want to use my modern brain and rational thought. And yet, I also crave something...essentially basic.
By the way, ladies - I'm not trying to leave you out of the discussion. Modernity certainly has a host of challenges for you as well. But I would feel foolish trying to express what those might be or actually feel like. I'm sure you would be much better served being your own messenger in that regard. Like Popeye would often say, I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam. At this point, a slightly wayward, somewhat hopeful man.
Hopeful, I say, because of the example of people like Yvonne Chouinard and also the Malloy brothers - who happen to work for Patagonia. No coincidence there, I think.
Chris, Keith and Dan Malloy are world class surfers, watermen, film makers, travelers, artists, ranchers, environmental advocates, and good old fashioned men. They are definitely thinkers and can express themselves in many different ways, but at the core - they do stuff. Watching their films, reading interviews with them and learning about their latest exploits always inspires me. In a 24/7 technology overload world, I need all of that I can get.
Frequent readers may recall a previous post about the short film Box of Birds featuring the Malloy brothers and their family. Worth a look as well are their surfing films, which you can find out more about over at the Woodshed Films site. The latest is Come Hell or High Water by Keith, all about the world of hard core body surfers. My wife and I had the pleasure of seeing a screening of the film a few months back at Patagonia's Ventura headquarters. Like all the films by this crew - definitely worth a look. Here's the trailer.
Watching a film like this about people doing one of the most primal of ocean activities, simply riding waves with your body, helps stoke those man-do-stuff fires that are far too often left to smolder somewhere deep inside of me. Afterward I feel energized to go out and do my own thing. Some days, I settle for chopping vegetables. But other days I roam, quite a bit more free.
Winter is definitely the prime surf season in Southern California. Being that I've been hitting the trail runs frequently, I haven't been getting out into the water as much as I would like on my new SUP board. But I'm going to try to get out more as we head into Spring and especially Summer - when the swells flatten out and are ideal for more SUP days. I love the ocean and have a hard time imagining not living near it.
Bonus - correctly guess where each one of the masks on the wall above my board are from and win a prize. The prize will probably be just me telling you "good on ya mate", but hey, its something.
I'm probably not much fun to watch, but check out this great little video by Redondo Beach local and wandering surfer Holly Beck. She's one of my favorites. The video was shot two years ago, so it isn't from this winter. Still, you'll get the feeling for a typical dawn patrol session during California winter months.
Holly has a real strong spirit and love of surfing, diving, and all things ocean. I especially appreciate her old school take on things. If you check out Holly's blog post from early 2010, around the time of this video, you can get a sense of what I'm talking about.
I remember a time when beginners and kids stuck to the inside, the shoulder, or didn't show up at all. Priority in the lineup was based on dedication to the spot as much as surfing ability, and if the main guys in the lineup didn't know your name you wouldn't even think of paddling for a set wave. I wish it was still like that. I travel all over the world, sit on the shoulder, take the scraps, bow down to the locals. When I'm at home I take set waves.
Yeah, I'm not a fan of localism - which leaves a bad stink on the sport of surfing. But I love respect for the locals and the local spot. And while we're talking about the lineup and respect, will my fellow SUP riders please stay out of the lineup if you can't hang? Your giant 10 foot plus board is mighty dangerous to everyone else around if you aren't capable of handling the surf. Get out in the water, nobody really cares that much about what you're riding. Just be cool and show a little respect for your fellow wave riders.
It's a weird year in the NBA. It wouldn't shock me if a totally boring but consistent team, like the Spurs, win the title. The lockout, compressed schedule, injuries. Who knows?
But by far, the most fun team in my eyes are the Oklahoma City Thunder. Almost makes me get over the fact that poor people of Seattle were shafted by the sketchy ownership move. Almost...
Metta World Peace being shown to be Metta Slow Feet by the great Kevin Durant. Later in the game, the player formerly known as Artest would try to be the intimidator, but only ended up getting in the refs heads, earning a cheap technical foul and barely registering with the Thunder as they cruised away to the win.
You probably get credit card offers in the mail. Phone calls, email, Twitter spam...it's America, and who can escape the mighty plastic card. I get 'em too. Weird enough, I recently received an offer for the Visa Black Card. Supposedly, this card offer is "...limited to only 1% of U.S. residents...".
Dude, being considered part of the 1% is seriously going to hurt my street cred.
I can attest, I am in no way a member of the financial elite. I'm not anti-money, but by the same token I'm certainly not being asked to join a country club any time soon. Well, you know what Groucho Marx said about joining clubs... Anyway, I think my credit is pretty decent enough. But either Visa is completely full of shit, or someone didn't do their math all the way through to the end when sending out invitations to the party. And why, might you ask, do I call this a "party"? Well...
When you're wearing a leather cat-suit, six inch heels, and your modes of transport include a motorcycle and a helicopter (the "gentleman valet" is holding the door and a helmet), I'm telling you, the party is on. Debt or no debt. And isn't that the point, really? We're all too sexy for our debt. But apparently we're not too sexy for services.
Cardmembers enjoy a 24-hour Concierge Assistant, Exclusive Rewards Program, and Luxury Gifts from some of the world's top brands. Black Card's VIP Airport Lounge program provides unlimited visits.
Who wouldn't pay $495 annually for all that? Wait, that question was so stupid, just pretend I never asked it.
Not merely a print campaign, there is a full length 'Back In Black' commercial. For a good laugh, er, I mean, to check out the sexy, click here. Speaking as someone who, at the age of twelve, freaking wore out his copy of this classic AC/DC album, there is only one word to explain what I feel after watching that: shame.
But wait, there's more...Best of all, this isn't just another plastic piece of crap in your wallet that will lead you down the road to over-spending, depression and despair. Oh no, my friend, this is something entirely different.
Made with carbon, the Visa Black Card is guaranteed to get you noticed.
Yeah. I can't stop staring at that model's Black Card.
It's Saturday night. I must be getting old because I'm doing laundry and wishing that my neighbor would turn down the music. Why is it, by the way, that when people blast the tunes, they are always shitty tunes? Does the neighbor ever crank up a Shins record? Led Zeppelin? Something cool and obscure like Kraftwerk? Oh no, its full-on Dire Straights...MTV-era Dire Straights.
Enough of the mundane...In no particular order I can recommend the following:
Espresso. I'm partial to Peet's, but I'm not religious. As long as it isn't drip coffee, I'm in. But Starbucks burns their beans. I'm just saying...
Eating fewer carbs. This is where I would normally place a picture of a great big fat person pushing their overloaded shopping cart around Walmart. But I'm feeling good tonight and the thought of trolling the internet to find said picture is too much of a bummer, even for me.
I did a 5 mile trail run this morning through the Hermosa Beach Greenbelt. It is quite awesome to have this place to run within a stone's throw of my house.
And as mentioned in a previous post, the fact that I'm running at all is a bit of a surprise to begin with. But if I could only run on a track or sidewalk or a tread mill at the gym, well, I'm not sure it would happen at all. There's something about a trail that makes it a completely different experience.
Another totally fascinating fact which absolutely needs to be recorded into the blogosphere is that I've moved into "minimal" running shoes. It is a different feel for sure, but I think I'm digging them. The idea is that when you go minimal, or closer to barefoot, you are forced to land on the ball or mid-sole. Which is more physiologically correct and will help you avoid injuries, over striding, heel striking, etc. I've only had them a week, but so far the Merrell Trail Gloves are feeling good.
We're funny, modern human beings. Spending $100 for a "minimal" shoe in order to get closer to "running naturally". Well, I'll cop to doing some absurd shit. But I'm still not gonna rock out to Mark Knopfler. A man must retain some semblance of pride.
So here is what I want to say about football (soccer for the die hard Yanks)...
Readers may recall that in a previous post I made a crack about British football and I may have said that they need to STFU. What I mean by that is this: stop telling me that the Premier League is the epitome of football, European or otherwise. If the Premier League is any good at all, it is because of the abundance of non-English players and non-English style of play. Ok, bring on the hate mail from across the pond...
The easiest way to describe the totally boring, ultra-conservative English style of play is the absurd, yet still commonly used, "punt the ball down the pitch and see what happens". You know what I mean. You've seen it a million times. Never fails to be dull. And stupid.
Yeah, why bother controlling the ball when you can just shoot it a mile in the air and hope that it finds the head of one your teammates and that he can somehow control where the ball flies off of his cranium. A winning strategy and so lovely to watch.
Contrast that style with that of a team like Barcelona and the great midfield control of Xavi.
Now, I know they are about the best in the world at ball control and the passing game and all that, but even stupid kids on a playground understand the simple rule that says if you have the ball then your opponent does not have the ball. Note: if you have the ball your chances of scoring are greatly increased, whereas your opponent has equally diminished chances. But hey, screw that, we're English. Our goal keepers send the ball sailing down the field so wonderfully. Its tradition.
Pointless and boring seem more on target.
In a sport like Ice Hockey, the "dump and chase" makes sense - because it is perfectly legal for the defense to flatten the puck carrier. But in a game where the rules favor the player controlling the ball, it makes the most sense to keepcontrol of the ball. (The argument can even be made in Ice Hockey, if you can assemble a talented enough team, that puck control also carries a huge advantage. See Detroit Red Wings recent history).
I was watching a Premier League game the other day and at half time they gave a stats recap. You know what they didn't bother measuring? Possession time. Can't keep control of the ball? Get ready to lose in the Champions League, again. Which is fine. Just stop telling me that England is where its at for soccer. I might be an American, but I'm not totally stupid.
I ran a couple of miles today. I wasn't expecting to after yesterday's trail run. But I was fired up after a nice Twitter exchange with the great Jessi Stensland, who is apparently getting heated up as well.
And when I asked, she kindly offered up some tips for the flat-footed.
The advice about limiting shoe time I can fully endorse. I've been trying to go shoe-less whenever possible and it really makes a difference in the way my feet feel. Obvious as it may sound, way more grounded. Love one-leg exercises and plyometrics (explosive movements) too. But the picking things up I had never thought of. Sweet monkey toes.
I did a 4 mile trail run this afternoon. What is significant about this is that I don't run, normally. I've been an athlete all my life, playing multiple sports, spending a lot of time outdoors, doing martial arts, etc. I even run sprints here and there. But I've never been much for any kind of distance. "Distance" to me = anything more than 100 yards. The reason for this is two fold. One, I tend to get bored without a ball or an object. Two, I don't have good arches.
Well, I dunno...I guess I'm always looking for something new to try. About a month ago I started running a little bit here and there. Half a mile, a mile, then a mile and a half. Mostly on a tread mill at the gym. Now I'm hitting a local trail which is much better than the boring treadmill. Being outside in the sunshine and fresh air is the choice to make whenever possible.
The main benefit I'm finding is that running can be sort of calming. Like I said, I have always preferred to run in pursuit of something, a layup on the basketball court, a shot on the tennis court. This has always made sense to me - a reason to run. But running just for running forces you (or me, at least) to get into some kind of zone. It's not meditative, but maybe a close cousin. The secondary benefit is the strengthening of my arches. I've always had sort of flat feet. Now, I'm not sure if this can be changed, but I think I can improve the strength in my arches. I can already tell they are not as tired after a few miles.
What does this rather attractive woman have to do with my feet? Well, let me try to explain...
Looking around at full body exercises designed to help endurance athletes (like runners) I've recently come across Jessi Stensland. Truth be told, I understand a fair bit about body mechanics and exercise science - having gone through the NASM program a few years back and doing some work as a physical trainer. But what I like about Jessi is the way she communicates the ideas around core strength, balance and flexibility so that an athlete can easily see how to apply certain training techniques. Oh, and Jessi is a world class triathlete, so she walks the talk. Check out Jessi and her MovementU training philosophy if you're looking for ways to improve athletic performance or even to just figure out how your body can work more efficiently in everyday life.
Besides, anyone who quotes Balzac on their performance athletic website is ok by me.
Ever feel as if the unrelenting heaviness of existence is crushing your more random moments of peace and happiness? Well, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume you're neither a world class athlete nor a severely handicapped child, but somewhere in between. The two ends of that spectrum can be found, oddly enough, in one family. For some life affirming perspective, please take a few minutes and watch this short film.
The brothers Malloy are some big time heroes of mine. I'm planning on a much more extensive post about my man-crush on these three great surfing siblings, but that will have to wait. I'm currently much too busy riding, loving, fondling, and just plain gazing at my newest man-toy.
This time of year, many of my fellow Yanks are very into sports. Or more to the point - watching sports. The Super Bowl is a few days away. The NBA is in full swing. The Australian Open just wrapped up. Oh wait, nobody actually watches tennis, right? But they do apparently watch people play cards. And by "people", of course, I mean socially questionable dudes wearing hoodies, hats and sunglasses while sitting in a casino at 4pm in the afternoon.
While I much prefer to get outside and actually do something, I too can be counted as a spectator from time to time. I'll probably have one eye on the big game this weekend, with the other eye on a cold beer or two. Truth be told, despite having grown up with the NFL, I find myself preferring another kind of football these days.
Did you catch the date?
Forget the Pats-Giants, I loves me some FC Barcelona on Valentine's Day! I plan to have a much more expansive post on the wonderful world of Champions League Football, El Classico matches between Barca and evil Real Madrid, and why I think the British need to eat a big bowl of STFU when it comes to the beautiful game. Stay tuned for that. And in advance, I would like to offer apologies to all my Brit friends. But you know I'm right.
Getting back to Super Bowl weekend and the kind of football where there isn't much foot hitting the ball...we all seem to recognize the game is almost a distraction. Its food, beverages, and those wacky television commercials, right? Well, the beverages I'm interested in anyway. Recently I've been coveting the delicious Peruvian beer Cusqueña.
Real tasty stuff. Highly recommended. Will go great with Carne Asada tacos while you watch a bunch of fat guys bump into each other. Oh, and Pats by 3.
I grew a little weary of writing my former wine blog, so I've decided to hang that one up. Thinking about a new project, but I'm just not sure that the world needs another general interest blog. This is as far as I've gone so far. Thinking things over. It could be some time.
I'm on Twitter as @onesteelhead. Follow me - along with the various porn bots that keep popping onto my feed. I guess when you have head in your username the inter-webs fun just cannot be stopped.
