Salt Water Therapy

I haven’t been writing everyday like I’m supposed to.  Well, this week I have, but today is only Tuesday.  To be honest, I think I lost my way a little.  I’ve been working on a project (for too long now!) and I’m agonizingly and frustratingly close to being finished.  If I can stay focused.  Which is sometimes hard to do.

Ok, for me it’s incredibly hard to do.

I’m like Dug in UP.  Seriously.  If I walk past a pretty flower I’m toast.  I have to stop and look at it.  My mind often wanders without permission.  Sometimes it’s a benefit, being a writer and all.  When my mind wanders, it usually conjures up amazing images and stories and characters that I can use in my work.  Well, it does when I make time to daydream.

When my mind wanders without permission?

Yeah, I’m usually left with guilty pangs of longing for the mountains, the ocean or chocolate.  And honestly, I don’t eat that much chocolate so when I crave….I CRAVE.

Sure, I’m a little stressed right now.  Sleep is an elusive mistress.  I cringe thinking about “the future”.  I’m staving off bouts of voracious appetite and utter procrastination.  But seriously?  I’m not special.  A lot of people feel these things and deal with these things.  For me it’s a matter of getting back to basics and resisting the urge to do something I shouldn’t or be something I’m not.   Getting back to basics…

And then it hits me.  I haven’t been in the water in well over a month.

Mother Ocean.

I’m unhinged.  For all my love of the mountains, I am a beach bum at heart.  My most precious moments of closeness with nature have come in the water.  I am lured by the crashing of the waves, the taste of salt on my lips, the cool ocean washing over me.  Her beauty.  Her ferocity.

So I say to myself, quit killing three hundred and twenty five words on the art of procrastination and get out there already!  And so I will.  But not before I’ve killed a word or two more…

We all need that personal therapy in our lives.  It’s important.  I have a friend who runs (yuck!).  He says it’s the best time for him to feel peaceful.  Running?  Are you MAD???

Obviously, I’m not a runner.  But you get the idea.  We all have our “thing”.  Heck, some people need therapy therapy.  And I’m okay with that.  Whatever works, as long as it is healthy and brings you peace.

So here is my reminder to myself.  Get back to basics.  Make a plan, a list, a schedule.  Stick to it.  Focus on the task at hand and finish it.  But don’t forget the salt water therapy.

 

Hole in the Wall ~ A Micro-Adventure

Road Noise

I love taking walks.

A deep wooded glen.  Along a babbling stream, lazy as a summer afternoon.

A stream from snow.

High on a mountaintop.

I love taking walks.

On an alpine canyon ridge where the winter wind howls through the pine.

The wind.

From another land so far, far away.

I like the sound.

The natural sound.

Like an ocean beach, on a crisp fall early morning.  I am surrounded by the thunderclap of waves pounding the sand.

Waves from storms.

Storms from thousands of miles away…

I love being immersed in the sound, sometimes loud and thunderous and other times peaceful and nearly quiet.  Nearly quiet except for the sound of bees buzzing or birds chirping or squirrels playing games in the trees.

I love taking walks that soothe the ear and remind me how dynamic our world really is.

Beyond the road noise…

Scrambled Legs

We had been planning for a little over a week.  An ambitious micro-adventure that would take us across the high and low deserts of California and nearly 500 miles of driving.  Our plan was to leave home Friday night and return late Saturday night.  That was our plan.

My buddy Brett arrived at my house around 7:00pm Friday night.  He, my wife and I had a quick dinner, and then we packed up the truck and after fueling up we hit the road.  Traffic was a little heavier than I had expected or hoped.  Isn’t it always?

Not a great picture, but it’s traffic. You get the idea…

Still, we made good time once we got out of the urban sprawl and onto the open desert interstate.  The stars began to emerge and the darkness yawned out before us.  The interstate was still quite busier than I’d expected, full of travelers eager to begin their President’s Day weekend.  I guess we were no different.

We approached our off-ramp and I could sense the tiredness that comes with sitting in the car for three hours begin to fade and the anxious anticipation of a new adventure fill my spirits.  After venturing another twenty miles deeper into the darkness (and a wrong turn or two) we found our campground and settled into a routine of making fire (Brett), cooking ramen (me) and having a beer (us).  The warm broth and noodles  paired with a hoppy IPA satisfied our hunger and helped do their part to keep us warm in the 38 degree night.  But over five hours after beginning our journey we finally called it and nestled into our respective sleeping bags underneath that amazing blanket of stars.

As the darkness in the desert is moody and impenetrable (save for those stars), the daylight in the desert is broad and wide and all encompassing.  Even a little severe.  But it serves as a great wake up call.  Well, almost.  When you don’t get to sleep until after 2:00 in the morning, not getting up until 8:30 isn’t exactly rising with the sun.  But close enough…

Morning in the desert

Though only one of us was really moving.  A bug of some sort had been making its way through the building where Brett works, and it had finally caught up with him.  I guess being awake for twenty two hours and sleeping out in the freezing night didn’t help, either.  Needless to say, breakfast probably wasn’t a good idea.

But after cooking, cleaning and getting ready I did what any good partner would do in such circumstances…I left my partner to lie in the fetal position in the bed of the truck and nurse himself back to health while I geared up and headed down the trail to play.  I know, I know…you’re thinking I’m a horrible friend.  But I had his blessing.  He said, and I quote, “At least one of us should be having a good time.”  And no matter what anyone tells you, misery does not really love company.

Mojave National Preserve was established in 1994, in the vast desert of the San Bernardino County, the largest in the lower forty eight states.  The landscape is incredible  and to some degree, surreal.  Growing up in Southern California I’ve visited both Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm amusement parks, both of which have attractions that feature the tall cliffs and volcanic rock of the high desert.  Being immersed in the landscape first hand had a familiar feel to it, but to be honest it went beyond the familiar.  To say the land is vast and majestic is to fool yourself into thinking those descriptions alone are sufficient.  They’re not.

Beautiful

We were in Mojave for the Rings Loop Trail as part of the Hole in the Wall center.  A one mile loop, the trail begins by looping around a cylinder of volcanic rock that projects itself directly from the desert floor and into the bright blue sky for a thousand feet or so.  My first time through the loop I was alone, not only because my buddy was still back at camp but because there wasn’t anyone else on the trail.  I truly had the feeling of solitude in the desert.  The open fields of Manzanita and Yucca spread out before me as far as the eye could see.  As I walked, the spire remained on my right and I continued until the trail led back toward the rocks and into Banshee Canyon, named for the winds that howl through on a consistent basis.

The canyon is everything you want it to be, except empty.  Hole in the Wall campground is a pretty popular spot, even in late February when the nighttime temperatures were mid-thirties and the daytime temperatures ranged from low-fifties to high-sixties depending on whether the wind was blowing or not.  But though I prefer to enjoy something like the canyon in silence, listening to the sound of Mother Nature orchestrate the wind and the birds and the buzzing of the bees,  the amount of people there didn’t turn my micro-adventure into a line at the grocery store.  I was still free to roam in relative solitude and peace.

Banshee Canyon

They call it Rings Loop as the trail heads into the canyon and up a few scrambles where iron rings have been drilled into the rock for safety and support.  The rings help visitors climb three separate ten foot sections of rock that are closely confined but near vertical.  I did the hike twice and didn’t use the rings either time.  I think because of the landscape, the rings and the length of the trail, this would be a perfect place to bring kids and introduce them to the art of scrambling.

I wandered, as I often do.  I took some video with my camera, I snapped some still shots.  I took a picture of my feet, and noticed the wind was having its way with my hair.  All in all, not a bad time when you’re out in the desert and trying to have a good time.  But I wanted to check on Brett, so after being gone for almost two hours I returned to the camp to find him in the exact same position I had left him.  Only this time, one eye squinted in the sunlight, and was promptly followed by “this sucks.”  I knew he was ready to go hiking.

He downed a few bottles of water and walked around to shake the haze from his mind.  The water served to calm a stomach that had been a little angry with him since breakfast.  Maybe before.  A few more verses of “this sucks” and he managed to collect himself enough to be ready for the trail.

Once more I headed down the footpath and around the volcanic monolith, though the early afternoon had brought with it more people.  It was still as glorious a hike the second time as it was the first, although a bit colder as the winds had picked up a bit.  Together we stayed in Banshee Canyon longer than I had the first time through.  We managed a little bit of scrambling, but not quite as much as had been the plan.  It’s never wise to climb when you have scrambled legs…

We did manage to scramble ourselves up to a perch about twenty feet above a picnic site near the canyon.  There we sat in the growing wind and rested and enjoyed the day.  We reminisced on the trip from the night before, the suicidal mice darting across the road in the dead of night in the middle of nowhere, the frequency of the signposts with the image of a cow, the ability of the jack rabbits to really scare you as you drive down a dirt road and they suddenly appear in front of your bumper.  Our original plan had been to wake early enough to quickly do the Rings Trail before packing up and heading 137 miles down the road to another hike, another destination.  In my friend’s weakened condition, some plans were best saved for another time.

Overall the day had been fun.  For me, anyway.  My buddy managed to regain his humor as well as hike and climb some.  I think for him it was a memorable day, too.  As the day drew closer to an end, we packed our things and reluctantly agreed to head for home.

The last scramble of the day

Halfway to the interstate we approached an outcropping of rock that sat alone along the roadside and rose about fifty to sixty feet into the air.  I sat quietly and watched as it grew bigger and bigger through the windshield before finally hearing “how about we stop and grab that peak before heading home?”  It was the best part of the trip.

Our pile of rock, what we affectionately named Snaggletooth, provided us with a nice view of the surrounding desert and beyond to the mountains in the distance.   We were alone, in a rugged land and scrambling around doing what we had ventured into the desert to do.

Snaggletooth

Though it wasn’t a perfect trip, it will remain an incredible memory.  A new place experienced.  I’m left with a longing to return to the desert and finish what we started, but that’s okay too.  Another adventure to look forward to down the road…

 

Love is like that sometimes…

Slow as it goes and it sometimes never shows,

But what can you do in the sun or snow?

When it is so far

So many roads

 

You travel them

Any way you can

Any way you can

 

Fast as it goes and maybe still it never shows

But that’s what you do in the sun and snow

When it’s still so far

Still so many roads

 

Love is like that sometimes

Confusing

Silly

Wonderful…

Welcome to Paradise

It was the adventure of a lifetime.  A tropical paradise, full of sights and sounds and a landscape so familiar through pictures it was almost surreal in person.  The mix of humidity and cool ocean breeze gave life to a dream.  To an island.

Five islands, to be exact.  We traveled by ship over seven days celebrating our love for one another and our commitment to share that love the rest of our lives.  My wife and I were beginning a new adventure together, amidst the sun baked sands of the Caribbean.

But let’s be honest, a cruise ship screams tourist.  And for the most part, the luxurious accommodations and constant pampering were perfect for our honeymoon.  The shows, the games, the food.  It is nice to be comfortable when you are trying to be romantic.

It beats flying…

But let’s be honest, a cruise ship screams tourist.  And true paradise isn’t found at the souvenir stand next to the lady getting her hair braided.  Nor is it found in the Pirate Excursion with all you can drink rum punch.  We’ll pass, thank you.

Barbados was one of the last opportunities we would have to find that true adventure we were looking for.  But it didn’t start out so hot.  The port was a usual trap, complete with busy city streets crowded with people stuffing themselves into duty free shops and counting their Barbadian exchange.  We got duped into taking a short taxi ride that was sold as one thing, completely something else.  Back in the city, the wind left our sails once more when we noticed the man in front of us wearing a FREE OJ t-shirt.  We were still surrounded by the headlines and rat race of home.  Not exactly the exotic getaway we had planned.

Welcome to Paradise?

When in doubt do as the locals do.  And so on a whim we did as the locals and hopped a bus headed out of town.  We stood grasping hand holds for balance and smiled at the sea of brown eyes looking at us with confused suspicion.  It was clear we weren’t from around there.  But as the bus pulled out of the city, with its overcrowded sidewalks, tall buildings and duty free shops, the road before us yawned out for miles into the country and stretched out toward endless fields with mountains in the distance toward the center of the island to our right.

The road seemed empty save for our bus.  And through the windows we could see the turquoise sea flash its brilliance between the trees and rows of tiny cottages that peppered the road to our left.  My wife and I looked at each other in silence and smiled.  Soon, the bus stopped to pick up a passenger standing along the road and as it did my wife and I hopped out.  The choke of the bus gave way to silence.  We were removed from the stifling heat of the cramped transport and returned to the warm, sweet humid air that was touched by an ocean breeze.  We held hands and crossed the empty two lane road, sneaking our way between seemingly empty cottages and onto the beach beyond.

Not a soul in sight…

The soft sand, baby blue water and tropical warmth washed over us in one singular emotion of happiness.  We dug our towels from our packs and shimmied out of our clothes, revealing our bathing suits underneath.  The serene lapping of the calm Caribbean current offered a pleasant soundtrack to our hidden oasis.

We were alone.  Unbothered.  On a perfect beach, with soft and silky sand that fed itself into an ocean as inviting and refreshing as a cool sip of tea on a hot summer day.  Quiet solitude.

We didn’t have trouble picking a spot

We couldn’t believe we had begun our day amongst the throng of tourists fighting their way through each moment in hopes of capturing the perfect trinket to remember their tropical vacation.  Fighting their way.  It seems appropriate to say it that way…

Can’t say I’ve seen too many perfect, empty beaches

We stayed a while.  We enjoyed our memory and our piece of the island.  The adventure.  Oh, it didn’t end there, we had to walk part of the way back to town and thus the ship because we didn’t have a bus schedule and as I mentioned before…the road was empty.  But we made it.

Paradise

We made it.  We made it an adventure.  And a memory to last a lifetime.

 

And then tomorrow…

Annapurna, K2, Everest.  Himalaya.  Karakoram.  I think what it would be like to travel for weeks and months into land so immense the map doesn’t seem big enough to capture how remote it really is.  I’ve read the books.  The words.  Those descriptive words.

I’ve seen the pictures.  But I’ve never seen the land.

Problem is I don’t know if I ever will.

Still, I walk out my front door and turn my dreams into adventure.  My mountains stretch into the atmosphere and peak at ten thousand feet.  No, it isn’t remote wilderness, but I can steal away the moments when they happen.

In winter mountains fill with snow.  With my gear I embark on that grand adventure, if only for a day.  The paths are varied, from dirt and rock fire road, to manicured single track, to overgrown and unkempt bush pass.  So I am an adventurer, and each path before me will lead to the high terrain.  And to the snow.

Eight thousand.

I can feel the rush of my journey.  The sun may be warm, but the cool breeze filters its way through the pine and reminds me this is winter.  And so I will continue.  Ever higher.

Each labored step brings with it pain.  The weight of the pack.  The twist of the foot.  The seemingly never ending strain of muscle and will.  And there is no place I’d rather be…

As I step, I breathe, and with each breath I dream.  Of Mallory and Irvine, of Herzog and Lachenal, of Hillary and Norgay.  I am transported beyond my steps into a world of lands so immense they cannot be contained.

Nine thousand.

Slowly rise above the tree line.  Along a ridge.  The thrill as thousands of feet drop to either side.  The air seems better.  The pain washed away.

Ten thousand.

My adventure is grand, indeed.

My journey will not last.  Though I try with all of my might to push this thought to the deepest recesses of my mind, I know that it is true.  My life awaits my return.   It remains the one pure truth.  I will rejoin the world with renewed spirit and energy.  I will have gained perspective and hope.  I will have learned about my land, and even more so, about myself.   I will be thankful for the opportunity to enjoy the land.  I will be thankful for my health, and my family’s willingness to share me with the world outside.  I will have fond memories of the places I have been and the relationships I have forged.

And then tomorrow…

Alphabet Soup – iPod by the Letters (B)

Ok, so it’s another fluff piece.  You caught me. 

Still, I had it lying around so I thought I’d just share it with you. 

 

B Movie – Nowhere Girl.  Haunting 80s classic.

B.o.B. – Yeah, I’m hip.  I know it.  Honestly, though, it’s Hayley Williams’ voice on “Airplanes” that gets me.

The Babys – John Waite.  Need I say more?  Yes?  Ok, how about some rock and roll goodness?  There.

Bad English – John Waite.  Need I say more?  Wait…didn’t we just do this?  Actually, “When I See You Smile” was Bad English’s only good song as far as I’m concerned.

The Beach Boys – I started listening to The Beach Boys as a kid, on vinyl.  Nobody will ever be as good.   Sunshine, surfing, girls and cars.  Nope…nobody will ever be as good.

They had it all

The Beastie Boys – Hands down, my favorite rap group of all time.  They’ve got style.  And my favorite album of theirs isn’t even a rap album.  Check out “The In Sound From Way Out!”  You’ll get a whole new appreciation of the Boys.  So what’cha, what’cha, what’cha want?

Beat Down Sound – From the soundtrack album “The September Sessions”.  Surf movie.  Surf music.  Just plain goodness.

The Beatles – Believe the hype.  If you don’t love The Beatles, ask yourself why.  Really, do it.  There is a very specific reason they are so revered.  Only egos get in the way.  Just ask Paul.  Or Yoko.  Well, maybe not Yoko.

Beck – Odelay!  Really, I only have two songs.  I just like saying Odelay!

Bee Gees – If I have to ask you not to judge me all the time how can we build this relationship?  Seriously.  Don’t judge.  And if you must, judge my parents.  They forced me.  Of course, now I admit to liking the Bee Gees, but…uh…next artist then?  Splendid!

Bela Fleck and the Flecktones – Fusion.  Who doesn’t love a banjo.  Well, ok…maybe Burt Reynolds and company don’t like banjos.  But I’m sure everyone else does.

Ben Harper – Amazingly talented artist.  “Live at Twist & Shout” is one of my favorite albums ever.  Plus, we’re both from Claremont, so there.  Check out the Claremont Folk Music Center.

In the colors

Beyonce – Hey, I can shake it too.  No, really.  I can.  It ain’t pretty, but I can do it.  Her music just makes me want to dance.  Heck, I’ll pump up “Crazy in Love” as loud as possible and dance alone in the hallway right now.  I will…

BigBang – These guys performed live at my wife’s university and we got their album.  They are a modern day Cream.  Pretty good stuff.

Bill Withers – Legend.  I don’t have any words that really convey what the voice does to me when I hear it.  You’ll just have to find out for yourself.  And I really wish you would.  If more people listened to Bill Withers, the world would be a happier place.

Billy Idol – Dancing with Myself.  No, actually I was.  I was listening to Beyonce and I was in the hallway.  I told you I would.  I like Billy Idol too.

Billy Joel – The Piano Man.  Find a documentary called “The Last Play at Shea” and watch it.  Very moving.  And then, go out and get every Billy Joel album you can get your hands on and listen to them over and over and over again.  His music just might change your life.

Billy Vera and the Beaters – At This Moment.  Love.  Lost.

Bim Skala Bim – Great ska band.  Ska is good.  Bim Skala Bim is gooder.

Biz Markie – Girl, you got what I neeeeeed. But you say he’s just a friend.  You say he’s just a friend.  Oh baby…YOOOOUUUUUU…..

Black Eyed Peas – Where is the love I ask you?

The Black Keys – The Black Keys sound like they’ve been around forever.  And they haven’t.  New band.  Old souls.  Well, they’ve been around for a few years anyway…but still.  You get the point.

Black Sheep – I actually hate they used Black Sheep for that stoopid Kia commercial.  The song “The Choice is Yours” was cool until I heard it a million times every commercial break during a baseball game.

Black Uhuru – Guess who’s coming to dinner?  That’s right, natty dread locks.

Blessid Union of Souls – I Believe.  Who doesn’t love songs of hope?

Blind Faith – Can’t Find My Way Home.  Well, I mean I can.  I mean I am home.  That’s the name of the song…nevermind.  What happens when you mix Stevie Winwood, Ginger Baker and the great Eric Clapton?  You have Blind Faith, that’s what you have.  Can you say super group?

Super. Group.

Blind Melon – Not a super group.  No Rain…eh.  My personal favorite is Change.  No bee girls for that one.

Blink-182 – What’s My Age Again?  No, seriously…I’m asking.

Blood, Sweat & Tears – I don’t think people really understand how influential Blood, Sweat & Tears continue to be.  They were power R&B at its best, and fusion when fusion was only done in smoky jazz clubs.

Bob Dylan – I think Bob would be the first person to tell you he’s not a great singer or musician.  That’s not the point.  He is a voice.  And he emerged at a time when people couldn’t find their own.  He is a poet.  One of the greatest.  And one of my lyrical inspirations.

Bob Marley – I could write volumes on Bob Marley.  I have every original album.  Suffice it to say, I was drawn to his music as a teenager when Southern California was engulfed in the firestorm that was the emergence of gangsta rap.  I can’t relate to gangsta rap.  Everyone can relate to Bob.

Bob Seger – “I woke last night to the sound of thunder.  How far off I sat and wondered.  Started humming a song from Nineteen Sixty Two.  Ain’t it funny how the night moves?  When you just don’t seem to have as much to lose.  Strange how the night moves.  With autumn closing in.”  ~ May be my favorite lyric ever.  100% Rock.  100% Roll.  Thank you.

Bobby McFerrin – Don’t worry.  Be happy.  !@^*?$#!.  Maybe I should delete this one.

Bon Jovi – I don’t know what to say about guys with long, feathered hair and tights.  Except, they make better music than the same guys with short hair and denim.  Strange.

Boogie Down Productions – The first “free-will” choices I made as a teenager with regard to music were three groups.   BDP was one of those.  I haven’t listened to anything past the first two albums.  But man, those first two albums.

Brad Paisley – I don’t like everything he does, but what I like I love.  Make sense?

The Bravery – This band has set themselves apart from the sea of groups that are all making the same song.

Breaking Benjamin – When you need a little loud while you’re working out.

The Brian Setzer Orchestra – Swing!  Brian Setzer proves time and again that certain eras are better than others.  Each year we move forward isn’t necessarily progress.

Bruno Mars – The music is infectious.  Sometimes each year we move forward is progress.  “Liquor Store Blues” has helped bring roots reggae into the modern era.  The other songs are good too.

Bryan Adams – I think this is some of the best rock and roll ever.  Seriously.  Guys like Bryan are rare nowadays.

Buena Vista Social Club – I have never heard a more engaging, thought provoking or emotional collection of jazz ever.  This album is on my list of five if I’m ever stranded on an island.  Hopefully it’s a Caribbean island…

Classic

Bullet for My Valentine – I have a few songs that get mixed in with the rest when I’m in the mood for someone yelling at me.

Bush – I’ve got to be honest, I don’t know what glycerine is.  Good song though.  I like Bush, I like No Doubt.  I don’t like them together.  It’s just not the same, if you know what I’m saying.

Meditation

Really, I should have known then.  I’ve been putting off what matters most to me creatively for nearly half my life.  I have no one to blame.  But I should have known.  Now, things are different.  My life in reboot.

I was working a 9-5 that was more like a 5-4.  But I have to say, for a while it was the best job I’d ever had.  For a while.  But that was then.  Still, even when it was good I’d made this trek.  A small journey, really.  But it continues to have lasting impressions.

Luckily I’m close to the mountains.  I can escape whenever I want.  Or really, whenever responsibilities dictate I can get away.  Five minutes into a wooded trail and the world behind me is lost.  My mind is clear.  My pulse quickens, my brow dampens.  Meditation.

It had been a good day.  Even better when my responsibilities at work were complete and I could settle myself into a fifteen minute drive to get where I really wanted to be.  Among the pine.

The trailhead had a few people scattered about, mainly returning to their cars.  It was winter, and the sun was soon to rest.  These scattered few had been up the trail already, and were lucky.  Or were they?

In quiet solitude, I strapped my crampons.  I zipped my coat.  I hefted my pack and began.

The trail was ice and snow.  And cold.  In shadow.  As the darkness drew closer, the trees seemed to have drawn closer as well, as if protecting me from the world outside.  I was cocooned within the trail, within my thoughts.  Within the mountain.

My breath, labored and visible in the failing light, accompanied each step of my boot in a cacophony of percussion and wind.  I drove each muscle to get as far as I could with what little time I had.  I sought true solitude, my journey rewarded.

The early travelers had left me.  Me and the trail.  Darkness pushed itself into my daylight.  Effortlessly.  And as effortlessly, I allowed the sun and the sky and the night and the stars to wash over me in a sea of color and amazing grace.  Amazing grace.

I was born to wander

High and far

Among the pine

I was born to write

…and dream

Last Words

Writing, writing, what can I say?

I’ve scribbled and scribbled and had a bad day.

Ink in pen and pen to the page,

It all feels so forced, so full of waste.

I’ve toiled for hours, but it’s all just absurd,

So I’ve finally decided these are my last words.

 

- Submitted as part of ClownRhymes’ Week 2 Poetry Challenge, Last Words.

- Click HERE to visit and submit something!  Good Luck!