Friday, June 29, 2007

Surfline on crack?

WTF are they thinking? Is Surfline smokin' crack? Take some time and read one of the many forum post/blogs/articles about the 'Surfline Goodwill Tour' so you can form your own opinion-

The Surfline Goodwill Tour

Not going so well I guess...

Incident at La Jolla

I think Sean Collins will have some explaining to do.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Plastic Fantastic

Plastic beer bottles- most people if given a choice wouldn't drink out of `em. I think they're great; no possibility of broke glass, easy to recycle, your friends can't do that trick where they smack the top of your bottle with their bottle and cause foam to shoot out all over, easy to twist off tops, can't chip your teeth on `em, and great for sporting events.

If you don't agree that's fine, but let me give you a hypothetical situation where a plastic bottle served as much more than just a beverage container. It served as a tool to try and teach someone manners, allowed a normally level headed guy to act on a situation and use the bottle where in a 'glass bottle situation' he would never consider such harsh actions to 'teach someone manners', and helped the police recognize a ballpark fan had way to much to drink.

This is a totally hypothetical situation, and since I would never suggest anyone would take the risk of acting totally irresponsibly like the these hypothetical characters...I'll assume the risk and put myself in the situation to help the reader relate.

Here it is-

Say I was to be sitting in Safco Field, about 26 rows along the third baseline, enjoying the last few gulps of a Bud Light. Directly behind us is a group of sugar buzzed, Mariner crazed, 9yr old little league kids. 8th inning and no sign of the cotton candy high wearing off anytime soon.

So the little leaguers are razzin' everyone who walk by in Boston Red Sox gear. Most don't even pay attention, others shrug it off with a laugh, and one gangster lookin' guy can't handle the situation like an adult. When he walks by and gets heckled by the little league team he responds with a middle finger and a few words that can't be made out over ballpark crowd. This doesn't happen cause the guy isn't paying attention to who's razzin' him. He actually walks by a second time, but this time turning around and throwing his arms up as to guesture 'what?', or 'you wanna start trouble?', before once again giving the little league the middle finger.

Imagine me sitting there, enjoying the last few gulps of a Bud Light, and watching all this go down. Now imagine my Bud Light slipping out of my hand and heading in the direction of the guys about 8 rows below us in the isle. Madness ensues around us and I simply stay seated while the guy, stadium staff, police, and little league parents, and random attendees, start yelling at each other. Little League parents and Mariner fans blaming the guy. The guy wanting to take everyone on. The police just trying to figure who's bottle slipped. Some wasted old guy was even pointing his finger at my deadlocked friend while yelling "trouble makers!".

Luckily all the attention was drawn away from me and my misplaced Bud Light. The police begin to direct all their attention on wasted old guy- to drunk to hardly speak, but he manages to shout above everyone else. The few that really saw what happened either sat there with their mouth shut, or patted me on the back. We would leave half way through the next inning.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Pirate Days

Friday afternoon traffic- no problem for Clem's Audi wagon. Crusin to the beach in style. Arrived with plenty of time to catch some Pirate Days activities and a late afternoon surf.

Typical summer surf conditions, but better than nothing. Actually better than typical summer surf, it's been about 2 weeks since I've got my head wet. Just nice to be in the water.

Dinner consisted exclusivly of fired food and beer at the NP. Weird crowd because of the Pirate Days. We decided to call it an early night and grab a camp spot instead of trying to win control of the shuffle board table.

Woke up before 6 to get in an ealry surf session before the crowds and the onshore wind picks up. Waves were fun, but I wasn't trying to make it a marathon session. We were on the road by 10. One more stop for egg biscuts and hashbrowns before I was home and ready for a midday nap.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Motorcycle Mayhem or First Encounters

I'm back to work. I can't remember what it is I was doing before I left, but I know it was defiantly not memorable. Not much has really changed in the 5 days from away from my cushy lumbar supporting proper posture promoting office chair- its just that my mind was so far from anything that resembled actual office work. So far from work that I even forgot my cell phone in Denver. That's defiantly a first for me.

So here's what went down over the last few days...

Wednesday night & Thursday day was spent in Denver catching up with a few old friends and wasting time in the city. It was really good to spend time with friends I usually only chat with by phone or the same time it was torture. So close to the mountains, but not quite there. I felt bad because my friend was going through a real rough time in her marriage and needed someone to talk to. I'm not that guy. I can barely be compassionate when my wife is breaking down in tears let alone a friend who's letting it all out. It's not that I don't care. I just never know what to say, and in this particular situation, all I really wanted was to be in the mountains instead of restaurant in downtown Denver. I'm selfish I guess.

The drive to Vail was pretty quick once we actually got on the road. I tried to steer the conversation away from relationships, and when it did go that way, I agreed with everything she said. We finally made it to Vail around 11pm Thursday night- I could finally relax. I wish she could feel the same way, but all she has to look forward to is going home to a asshole of a husband.

I was staying with Brent- my old roommate and trusted snowboarding companion. If there was one person I would trust with well-being, it would be him. Learning to snowboard together we pretty much figured out how big of a rock drop each other could take before it would cause any real lasting injury. If he said "go" I would go with hesitation knowing the worst that could possibly happen is that he would get a good laugh out of watching me eat shit. So I guess it's fitting that he be there for my first time back on a motor cross bike in at least 10 years.

The next few days were spent learning how to race a 250cc 4-stroke Honda motorcycle over varying mountain the same time becoming way to familiar with the dust, snow, rocks, tress, and mud, that covered the trails. I only went down a few times. Once hard enough to scratch up my helmet pretty good and get chunks of gravel under my chest protector. Thank God for motocross body armor.

The funny thing is that the pain from getting tossed off the bike was nothing compared to the sore muscles, blistered feet, and heat exhaustion. I also thought I was in pretty good shape, but I guess not for riding a motorcycles for 6 to 8 hours a day. Each day got progressively worse until the last day I could barely keep any tension in my arms. My thighs still hurt.

The last night we decided to camp out near Wolcott Pass- a few miles out in the middle of the mountains. I was hoping to get a couple good motocross and landscape shots, but the weather wasn't really cooperating. We were expecting typical mountain sun showers, not thunder storms. I also noticed all the trees had burn strips running down their trunks where they had been struck by lighting.

Before the storm rolled in we had time to cooks some hot dogs and fire off a couple of fireworks Brent packed just for the trip. Initially the lightning was pretty far off, but didn't take long to move in on the camp. I tried to get a couple of time lapse shots of the storm that didn't work out. We ended up hiding in the tent to avoid becoming a lighting rods.

While hanging out in the tent waiting for the storm to pass, all of the sudden, we heard crazy sound out side the tent. Sounded almost like weird horn, or bird, but really fookin' loud.

Me -"What the hell? Bird?"

Brent- that was no fuckin' bird.

Not another word about it between us.

Really loud bird that hangs out in the rain @ 2am??? I didn't want to piss it off more than it already sounded, and if it wasn't a bird...I didn't want to see what was hangin' out in the forest, at night, miles from any civilization, and in a storm. I regret not checking it out, but don't regret the possible alien annal probe that could have resulted from being brave.

Next day Brent drove me back to Denver where I got to see a few more friends before showing up to the airport almost 4 hours before my delayed flight.

Best part about the trip was I didn't miss any notable surf session. Now if I can just plan every trip between swells I'll be golden! I guess it's not too hard to do during the summer.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Road to nowhere

I had a couple hours of free yesterday afternoon and decided to go on a hike. I picked a hike out by Salmon La Sac, not realizing how far it actually was. After about an hour and a half of driving, and less than a mile from the trail head, I noticed a 'Road Closed Ahead' sign. Spring snow melt washed out the road and made passage in my Honda Accord impossible. Ended up driving around taking some pics and wasting a few hours of my afternoon.

When Clem called detailing his morning surf session I realized I made a bad decision. Kev and I came so close to taking the day for surf, but working late the night before and misjudging the weather, convinced us not to go. Yeah, we're dumb.

Leave for Denver tomorrow, heading to Vail Thursday, and then Grand Junction the next. I'm not sure if I'm ready for 3 days of riding dirtbikes, but I'm sure it will be good times.

Friday, June 8, 2007

On-call Weekend

One week out of every month I sacrifice my personal free time so that your booty calls, American Idol votes, daily horoscopes, and ring tones, are delivered to your phone as quickly as 1's & 0's can beam across the internets and wireless networks. You may be extremely appreciative, or you may be wondering-"how can I do something so selfless that improves the quality of everyones lives?" I hate to disappoint you, but chances are you'll never have an opportunity to do what I do. It's a highly specialized high tech voodoo performed by masters of the black arts. I don't expect you to understand with your inferior brain;)

As exciting as it may sound it's not all that cool. There are a couple drawbacks like not getting to surf this weekend. It's not like the surf's going to be anything to write about, but at least it's surf. I also can't really do anything that requires any dedicated amount of time or concentration- movies, eating out, boozin' with friends, going to the gym, sleep. The second I get settled in what I'm doing my phone starts buzzing.

Even though staying home and working sucks, it does keep me around the house and the wife can't complain that I'm off surfing every weekend.

Coming up next week....

Motorcross in the Rockies

Sunday, June 3, 2007

Cleanwater Classic

Saturday road trip to Westport- wasn't expecting to really do much surfing (3ft @ 9sec W), but at least we would have the CleanWater Classic to keep us entertained.

When we pulled into the packed parking you could hear the overly enthusiastic announcer and see a crowd lined up along the bluff. I jumped out of the car grabbed my camera hoping to get a few pics and headed for beach. I got to the top of the bluff and all the sudden started to feel dizzy. The kinda dizzy you get when stare into an empty void and can't determine whats up or down. Ok, I'm exaggerating a little, but the marine layer was so thick you could barely make out the lineup. Picking out an actual surfer in the water was near impossible. I have no clue how they're able to judge from their vantage point?

Our original plan was to watch some of the contest, surf an sundown session, catch a freind's band playing the event party, camp, sunrise surf session, and be home by 10am. Needless to say we didn't watch much of the contest, the surf sucked, and we were back home by 10...10pm that night. At least I got to sleep in my own bed.