Lassen Volcanic National Park

The following Friday was the 4^th of July, and I began my first two week vacation since college. Phil and Bing flew into the area, Bing’s brother Willis drove up from San Jose, and off we went to Lassen Volcanic National Park. I’ll be darned if the buffet we stopped to eat lunch at wasn’t in a building with slot machines and blackjack tables. After only a minor delay, we dropped in at a Foodmax grocery store in Red Bluff to grab some supplies. This store seemed to be frequented by the same people I saw with water guns on the rafting trip the previous weekend. We were particularly amused/frightened by a couple of thuggish--looking teenage brothers wearing shoulder pads while shopping with their mom. Our next stop was Mineral, CA, population 30. Our motel was located there near the park entrance. The accommodations were somewhat spartan, but not bad—other than having to kill two big spiders every trip to the bathroom. We never did figure out where those things were coming from. The nearby restaurant, the only one anywhere close, had incredibly slow service, but it did have an arcade game loaded with dozens of 80’s vintage games. We also learned pretty quickly that we could get quite a few rounds of cards in while waiting for food to show up.

Given the park’s name, I was expecting a somewhat desolate place similar to the geyser areas in Yellowstone. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the park was very colorful and contained several lakes and rivers. Lassen Peak hasn’t erupted since the early 1900’s, and the area has recovered well since then. The one area we went to with obvious geothermal activity was called Bumpass Hell. It was named after some dude named Bumpass who lost a leg to the boiling water when the ground gave way under him. He was an early guide to the area, who didn’t seem to have much luck with names or professions. We spent several days enjoying the park’s hiking trails, and then headed back toward the Bay Area. Of course, we managed to find fine dining at another gaming establishment on the way home.

Earthquakes, Dragonboats, and Rednecks

After seeing Mom and April off to the airport, I had a chance to meet my friend Caroline and her family for dinner in San Francisco. They were in the area to celebrate her parents’ anniversary. It was nice to see a friendly face from Houston, and it gave me an excuse to drive down Lombard St. again.

Supposedly we get several small earthquakes in the Bay Area each week. I finally felt my first California quake ~2 AM one night (the last time I played seismograph was my freshman year of high school in Tennessee). The rumble here was just a baby (~2.4), but it still rattled some dishes and felt like a train was going by. I guess I’ve been officially indoctrinated into the area now.

To further immerse myself into the local culture, I volunteered for a charity event on the water. Shell sponsored a dragonboat team to race against other companies in the area to raise money for cancer research. I’d never heard of a dragonboat before, but I soon found that it’s like a long canoe (think Last of the Mohicans) that holds 20 paddlers and a lazy person in the back who tells you what to do. I thought our team did well given our lack of paddling experience, but I was a little disappointed when the weenies from Intel kicked our butts. At least we didn’t get booed out of the event for the $4.50 per gallon gasoline here.

I finally broke down and bought a townhome. It’s about a mile from my office; so I walk or bike to work when I don’t hit snooze too many times. I moved in mid-June and then was out of town the first five weekends I owned the place. Needless to say, unpacking has been a prolonged affair.

I celebrated my first weekend as a California homeowner by trying to help out Nevada’s economy too. Phil met me over in Vegas, and we spent a few minutes in the casinos between meals. We ate one of the meals with my favorite professional gambler, Mr. Long Nguyen. I think one of us left town with more money than we brought, but it wasn’t the person returning to earthquake country.

I spent the next weekend on a rafting trip with some coworkers. Before this trip, I wasn’t aware of California’s redneck population, but evidently they all like the river, and they all own guns—water guns in this case. I was paired up in a raft with one of our summer interns, and neither of us was an expert at steering. We ended up spinning in circles through the rapids, and we managed to get hung up on rocks quite a bit. This made us sitting ducks for the water gun marksmen, who weren’t ashamed to blast defenseless people trying to recover their beached rafts. Darn rednecks...

Wine Country & Yosemite

Between new home stuff and vacationing, I’ve allowed the blogging to fall by the wayside for a while. Hopefully I’m not too old yet to accurately recall these events from Memorial Day week.

Mom and April came to visit from Tennessee, and I took the week off to play tourist with them. I bragged about how it’s sunny here all the time in the summer; so of course it was overcast and drizzled on us in San Francisco their first full day here. Fortunately, that’s the only bad weather I remember during the trip. During our couple of days in the city, we caught a lot of the popular sites: Telegraph Hill, Fisherman’s Wharf, Chinatown, Lombard St., the Golden Gate Bridge, etc. One day we took an open top bus tour around the city. It was a good tour, but somewhat chilly outside, and I was too stubborn to ride on the lower level. This probably contributed to me having the sniffles later in the trip. We spent most of the second day in Golden Gate Park, picnicking and traipsing around until we were pooped.

The next day, we went over to Muir Woods and then up into the wine country. We had a late lunch in Sonoma and walked around the town square a bit. Fortunately, Mom and April were limited on luggage space and didn’t subject me to too much shopping at the various shops. We made our way up to Santa Rosa to spend the night. Upon arriving at our hotel, I was a bit nervous about the place, because it had a pink flamingo on top of its sign. However, it turned out to be an ok place. Due to some very large Snoopy and Woodstock figures on display at the hotel, I found out that Charles Schultz, creator of the Peanut comics, was from Santa Rosa. Mom, April, Snoopy, and I shared ice cream and Oreos for dinner that night. The following day, in Napa Valley, we toured a winery that included a chair lift ride, and watched some folks grind wheat into flour using a watermill at a state park. We caught an early dinner in Napa before heading toward Yosemite.

It had been ~6 years since I’d spent time in Yosemite, and I was excited to see the place again. Cris and Nicki drove up from Malibu, and we were able to meet up with them while touring the park. They’d had a lot of snow in the park the weekend before we visited, and several of the roads had been closed. I was concerned that we’d miss out on some of the sights, but we were fortunate that things were back to normal operation while we were there. Plus, the waterfalls were fantastic from the snow melt. We hiked in Mariposa Grove amongst the giant sequoias—these guys make the redwoods in Muir Woods look average sized. We caught some great views of Yosemite Valley from Glacier Point and Taft Point. The hike out to Taft Point had snow covering parts of the trail, but we all managed to stay upright--with some help from Nicki’s walking stick. We saw a couple of bears in the valley, and deer seemed to be everywhere. Mom even saw a squirrel run into the cafeteria to check out the pancakes. With the excellent scenery and wildlife, I thought we were well removed from civilization, but I was very surprised to find that I had cell phone coverage in Yosemite Valley. It was tough leaving the park after three days, but Mom and April had to catch a flight the next day.

Though it may appear so, I promise I didn't post every picture from the trip below. I took over 200 shots myself (pitfalls of having a digital camera), and I had quite a time winnowing down to the group below. We just saw a lot of cool stuff.

Golden Gate Bridge

Well, the 7th home offer wasn’t the lucky one, but the 11th one looks promising. If all goes well, I’ll return to the association of homeowners on 6/17.

My friend Romy introduced me to a website called Shelfari that allows you to catalogue the books you’ve read or would like to read. I find it pretty interesting, and I’ll try to add a link to my blog.

I’m still behind on the blogging; so this weekend occurred several weeks ago. However, it was eventful enough for me to remember it well. I had a flex Friday off and was ready for my three day weekend. My realtor had sent me some promising listings, and we set out Friday morning in her Lexus SUV to view some homes. When we arrived at the first group of townhomes, my realtor pulled into a parking spot at the complex. Somehow, instead of hitting the brake to stop the vehicle, she accelerated through the spot, over the curb, and into a townhome. When I say into the townhouse, I mean that I could see someone’s living room furniture after we backed out of the hole in the wall! The car didn’t look too bad off—the hood and fender had some dents and scratches, and the radiator fluid leaked out. The airbags didn’t even deploy, but I heard later that the car repairs cost $6000. Apparently, no one was home, or they were scared to come out of the house. The cop that showed up had some city workers come by and nail some plywood over the hole in the house. I have a hard time imagining what a person’s reaction would be after coming home to find a hole in their living room wall. This event didn’t give me a favorable impression of the quality of homes around here, since the townhome looked a lot worse off than the car. Needless to say, I didn’t get a chance to visit many homes that day.

Believe or not, I found the next day equally entertaining, though for very different reasons. Recently, I’ve seen a lot of postcards and pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge that include the coastline and surf. I decided that I wanted to view the bridge from the western side and also from close up. My missions for Saturday were to get a good coastline/bridge picture for myself and to walk across the bridge. I didn’t know the exact location to take the picture from, but I figured that I’d find the place by going to the Pacific Ocean and walking north toward the bridge until I found a good spot. So I drove through the city and came to a place called Baker Beach west of the Presidio. It seemed like a good starting spot and a popular place. I started walking north along the beach toward the bridge. I was still too far from the bridge to get the picture I wanted when I began to realize the section of the beach I was at appeared to be clothing optional. Unfortunately for me, there seemed to be a lot more men than women who were exercising their options. I eventually made it to a spot to get the bridge picture I wanted, but I’m in no rush to return to see the sights in that area. After leaving the beach, I walked across the bridge and back. By the time I made it back to the car, I was fairly whipped. I did end up driving across the bridge and getting some good shots from the other side before calling it a day. When I got home, I looked up Baker Beach on the computer and found out that it's a well known spot to tan and get no lines. I should have done my research in advance.

On Sunday, I braved going out with the realtor again. She chose some interesting parking spots that day to avoid parking in front of any homes. We did try again to see a townhome in the complex where the accident occurred. However, the key in the lockbox wouldn’t open the front door. I decided that I wasn’t meant to buy that place.

Malibu

For some reason, I can’t keep a pair of sunglasses. It seems like I’m constantly breaking or losing these things. I had two pair when I came to California three months ago, and now I can’t find either one. Since the sun has decided to shine all the time recently, my lack of proper eyewear rapidly became irritating. Fortunately, I found a 99 Cent store that carries sunglasses. Upon reflection, maybe I should have bought more than two new pairs. I’m up to 0 for 6 on the home purchase effort…maybe 7 will be the lucky number.

My only relative who lives west of Texas is my mom’s sister, Cris. She lives with her friend Nicki and their dog Bridget in an area north of L.A. called Malibu. I’d never been to their place before; so I flew down to visit over a long weekend in mid-April. The area has a different feel to it—I’m not sure how to put it in words. The local newspaper seems to be filled with pictures of celebrities who live in the area out supporting their charity of choice. I looked around for pink Corvettes, but never did see Malibu Barbie. While out for a walk with Bridget, we noticed that Casper Van Dien’s (Tarzan, Starship Troopers) place had a leaking sprinkler head or something and was losing a bunch of water down the driveway into the storm drain. Of course his place was gated; so we couldn’t waltz up to the door and inform him of the issue. We had to settle for telling a neighbor who had his phone number.

One day we took a picnic lunch up to Lake Casitas State Park and rented a pontoon boat to cruise around on the lake. The lake was pretty and crowd-free, and it had the only floating outhouse that I’ve come across. I used carry-on luggage for my weekend trip and couldn’t take sunscreen past the airport grinches. Cris let me borrow some that had been left at their place, but I think someone sabotaged the sunscreen. It was white like paint and wouldn’t rub in; so I went around most of the day looking ghoulish (more than normal). We didn’t get the pontoon stuck anywhere, although we did get in trouble with the ranger for tying up the boat to a fishing pier while going for a walk. Later we were chastised by the same ranger for speeding in the no-wake area, but, luckily, I think they give you three strikes in California. After leaving the park, we went to the city of Ojai (I think it’s pronounced oh, hi rather than O.J.) We walked around and ate at a very good Thai restaurant (with S3-like soup!) before returning to Malibu.

The good company and beautiful area made for a very fun and relaxing weekend. The 2 ocean pictures were taken from their backyard--check out the views!

Golden Gate Park

Ok, maybe the weather here is worthy of some (I’m not sure how much yet) extra cost of living. I think it’s only rained once in the past 6 weeks, and that conveniently happened at night. It’s a minor news event when the weather forecast shows a 30% chance of rain, and people start talking about canceling softball games. I was slightly ashamed of myself recently when I agreed with someone that it was warm on a day we reached the lows 80s with 30% humidity. Anyone who’s spent summers in Tennessee, Mississippi, and Texas should automatically make fun of warm weather that doesn’t have three digits in the temperature or >90% humidity.

I’m a bit behind on the blogging; so this trip to Golden Gate Park happened in the first half of April. My grand plan for the day was to drive over to the western part of San Francisco and check out the park and then head north to the Presidio area to see the Golden Gate Bridge up close. At the time, I wasn’t aware that Golden Gate Park is a little larger than New York’s Central Park. In retrospect, my plan to walk around both areas in one day was a bit too ambitious. Here’s a link to park information on wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Gate_Park

With traffic being fairly light, I was able to drive to the park in less than an hour. I’d skipped breakfast and packed in a picnic lunch; so I had an early lunch by a pond in the park. Some stupid seagull tried a “fly-by pooping” at me, but, fortunately, he missed. I think he was in cahoots with the ducks to distract me so they could get my sandwich. I quickly finished lunch and didn’t stick around for additional target practice. With my new Garmin GPS in tow, I headed off toward the beach and the Dutch windmill. After walking for a while without reaching the beach at the edge of the park, I began to get a sense of the size of the park and wish that I’d marked where I parked the car on the GPS. I did make it to the beach and the windmill, and on the way back I swung by the buffalo paddock. They also have some ponds set aside for fly fishing practice, and I was a little surprised to see several people there practicing their casting. There’s a polo field in the park that was being used to host several soccer games at once.

After seeing the western part of the park, I found where I parked, had a snack, marked the car location on the GPS, and moved eastward. One of the roads through the middle of the park was blocked off from vehicles during the weekend, and the place was popular with bicyclists, rollerbladers, and skateboarders. Some girl was even walking around on stilts. In the midst of people watching, I came upon the De Young museum and went inside to check it out. Some nice lady had an extra ticket to the art exhibits and gave it to me. I looked around a bit and stumbled upon an elevator to a glass walled observation level that offered some nice views of the area. After the museum, I walked toward the conservatory of flowers and came upon an outdoor roller skating area. These folks were showing their stuff using the old school skates (not inline). Someone had brought a portable stereo, and the skaters had a decent sized audience. I watched for a bit on the way back from the conservatory. Then, I went by the Japanese tea garden and spent some time in the arboretum, which has a very impressive variety of plants. Back at the car, I was tired out and had no desire for any further sightseeing that day. The GPS estimated that I’d walked about 8 miles, but I think that’s a bit higher than actual. Anyway, I slept well that night.