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| Approaching the Moleumne Widerness Trailhead, El Dorado National Forest, CA |
Partners in crime: Nathan and Alison
We drove toward the Sierra Nevada foothills after a short day of work and got to the Mokelumne Wilderness trailhead at dusk. I find the sensory deprivation involved in hiking into camp at night rewarding. You appreciate the trail beneath your feet and the trees above your shoulders for what they are up close, and often times the stars above are the next best scenery. Hiking the mile and a half through the sleepy National Forest seemed to pass quickly, and before we knew it we were at a body of water, reflecting the night sky on the glassy surface well enough for Jason to grab a beautiful photo.
Soon after we saw the reflection of our headlamps off of Alison's new trekking poles up on the hill. We greeted Short first and setup our tent on a sandy, flat spot complete with moat dug from the previous evening's guests who had to evade a thunderstorm's downpour.
The next morning was a sobering combination of beauty and altitude sickness. We strolled around the area, scrambling up the peak across from our lakeside camping spot. By the time we came back to eat some lunch, we decided to cut the trip short and hike out, realizing that sinus infections, headaches and deflating camping pads weren't exactly making Jason's adventure that comfortable.
We made the best of it by stopping by The Shoestring; a hole-in-the-wall burger place that serves mountain ranges of french fries. The four of us at probably 60% of the order since we ordered sandwiches too, leaving stuffed full of indulgent post-backpacking recovery food.
The take-away I like most about this weekend is the reinforcement that a sub-24 hour adventure is always worth the journey. No excuses for adventure-less weekends!
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| The Big Dipper over Granite Lake, Mokelumne Widerness, El Dorado National Forest |
Soon after we saw the reflection of our headlamps off of Alison's new trekking poles up on the hill. We greeted Short first and setup our tent on a sandy, flat spot complete with moat dug from the previous evening's guests who had to evade a thunderstorm's downpour.
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| Granite Jumping |
The next morning was a sobering combination of beauty and altitude sickness. We strolled around the area, scrambling up the peak across from our lakeside camping spot. By the time we came back to eat some lunch, we decided to cut the trip short and hike out, realizing that sinus infections, headaches and deflating camping pads weren't exactly making Jason's adventure that comfortable.
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| Jason's 2nd favorite sport: tickling |
The take-away I like most about this weekend is the reinforcement that a sub-24 hour adventure is always worth the journey. No excuses for adventure-less weekends!
October 18th & 19th , 2014
Good old San Francisco, CA
Partners in crime: Nathan and Alison
I'm realizing that w're really lucky and have been getting to spend a lot of quality time with Nathan and Alison. I like this very much!
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| Fog, in 3-D. |
Nathan got some seriously discounted movie tickets from work and instigated a movie adventure out to the Century 20 in Daly City. On the way to the theater we engaged in some recreational donut watching at Krispy Kreme and then went over to watch Sandra Bullock flat around in space for a few hours. What a treat!
Possibly more exciting, Saturday morning we woke up and headed over to the Golden Gate Angling and Casting Club's monthly free fly casting lesson via Sandbox Bakery. Full disclosure, I have no concept of all the free/cheap events that happen in San Francisco, so every time we come upon something like this, the resources people make available free of charge to the public seems unbelievable. All we had to do was trade our licenses in for fly rods, and the angling club volunteer instructors lead you through three hours of skill practice in fly casting.
Old men love explaining the hobby they've been practicing for decades.
I like to think that it was my effervescent personality attracting so much attention from the volunteer instructors, but it seemed like every time there was a new angling member wandering past our group, he insisted on coming over to help me. It could have also been terrible form, my inability to stop laughing at myself, or possibly the fact that Alison and I were two of only a few women at the workshop.
"Let me drive!" Said Instructor #1, guiding my shoulder in a downward rotation, immobilizing my wrist with his other hand.
"Keep your palm facing to the sky, like this," said random guy with 30 years of experience.
"Pretend your wrist is fused straight," said Instructor #3."Like this?" I said, demonstrating form opposite of his example.
"Not *quite*. Let me try your rod," said the next guy, and so on.
I was pretty impressed with my mediocrity at the end of the morning, assuming I must be casting less offensively, based on the drop in frequency from visiting instructors. I tried to laugh, but the nagging similarity to their redirection and the SNL sketch "Nick Burns, the Company Computer Guy," left me wondering if there was any hope for improvement.
In addition to my jovial attempt at motor skill coordination, I got served back a little slice of the sass I too deliver during large group instruction. My compulsive need to raise my hand and engage in the group conversation while wearing easy-to-locate white sunglasses made me a comic relief tool for the instructor. "Let's see what White Sunglasses thinks," happened more than once.
Our first lesson was so much fun. We got to go inside the club house afterward and see prize catches preserved an mounted on walls, the many photos of good times past and a collection of flies created by members present and past. Don Labbe, seeming interested in our less than 40 years old median age, told us to wait where we were. He'd be right back.
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| Fly made with polar bear fur! |
When he came back he handed Alison and me each a plastic box with a hand-spun fly made of polar bear fur. A late member of the GGACC was left polar bear fur that had been purchased as part of native Inuit crafts (one of the only legal means to posses polar bear fur). We now were proud owners of a fly each, souvenirs for when we eventually try to catch fish, far, far off in the future.
October 27th, 2014
More San Francisco tours!
For all the adventures Jason and I have outside of Alameda and San Francisco counties, I'm happy to report that we have just as many fun times near home.
For example, I met my co-worker, Chris, to represent Sienna Ranch at a follow-up celebration to the kinetic art experience called "The Best Things in Museums are the Windows", during which the ranch hosted the group hiking with Harrell Fletcher, an artist from the Exploratorium, as they hiked with him for four days all the way to Mount Diablo. It was one of the first partnership exercised we've done with an outside organization, and he pulled it off really nicely.
Jason met us there, and we did some people watching at the Plant, forever curious of why all adult costumes for Halloween are so very risque. The best one we saw was Bridezilla; a woman who dressed in a wedding gown and painted the rest of her body a scaly green color.
Afterwards we got to head over to the Delancey Street theater to see a screening of Ballroom Confidential, Jason's good friend and former roommate's newest documentary. It's a snapshot of Retired America honoring the community that holds the lives of these seniors together. I can only hope to have the spunk and flare of those men and women at age 97!
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