Who is the coolest person that you have ever met?

That depends on how you define cool, and the mood I'm in, and the year, and other random environmental factors, so it is really a meaningless question. All of my friends are cool as far as I'm concerned. Even the ones who would be considered big dorks by some.

Furthermore, no one who is not my friend can possibly be cool, no matter how hip they might be. After all, in my world, which is this world, I am the final arbiter of coolness.

Here are to my cool friends, Nick, Susanne, Denise, James, Bren, Brett, a couple of Ellens, Heather, and Mike, and a handful of others. You rock guys.

Ask me anything

The Lord will Provide: Part 1: Showers, Beds, and Art in the City.

Stardate: 04.15.2010

Ok, let's play ketchup again, It is now Thursday, the Long Walkers are in El Cerito, and the title of this blog is neither a metaphor, nor an exaggeration.

Monday morning, I signed off with the news that we wanted to get out of Pacifica and into San Francisco before the end of the day and that we were waiting for Susanne to be able to contact her friends there. Well, as it turned out, she got ahold of someone at YWAM San Francisco only to discover that there was a large group of church kids already installed in the rooms and recreation areas because of Easter break (aka Spring break, but this is a Christian organization and therefore exempt from the separation clause), and she was unable to contact Earl who might have been able to work something for us as well. Neither could I contact my families friend John in El Cerito, so we did not have a destination in the City.

In any case, long about noon, Susanne decided that she just couldn't take sitting at Starbucks anymore, even in the rain, and suggested that we just go and figure it out on the way. Nick and I concurred, so we walked across the street to the Linda Mar Park'n'Ride to wait for the 110 bus that would take us to the Daley City BART station. We got wet crossing the street, used the restroom at the gas station next door to the stop, and huddled in the roofed shelter waiting for the bus, then climbed aboard. Bus drivers get this look when they see us coming, most of them are friendly enough, but you can tell that they are not thrilled by the size of our packs.

We have good gear, and the huge packs mark us as travellers instead of homebums but we still run into prejudice and averted eyes as often as we run into friendly interest and conversation. Carrying your house on your back is beyond the pale in America these days, probably because so many are afraid that they are only one paycheck from losing their homes and living out of a car or a backpack themselves.

Nonetheless we managed to find three benches open (with the pack you take up at least two seats) and rode out of the rain into a beautiful sunny day as we crossed from San Mateo county and into San Francisco county. At Daley City we worked the phones again, and Susanne's mother Linda (by far our greatest benefactor so far) came through with a donation to allow us to get a room in the City. We called around and found the Presidio Inn on Lombard near the Golden Gate end. Then We caught the Blue line to the Civic Center, and a bus from there to the corner of Chestnut and Divisedero, about two blocks from the hotel. The room was nice, with two large beds which works well (Nick prefers sleeping on the floor anyway because of his back) and a microwave, sink and mini-fridge equipped kitchenette as well as the typical closet/bathroom/dressing area—all at a very reasonable rate. I would recommend the place for staying in the City on a budget as it was about twenty dollars cheaper than anything else we could find.

That night we stayed in, even though we had planned to go out and look at the city after dinner. I cooked while Nick and then Susanne took showers and watched a movie. Potatoes, parsnips, cabbage, spinach, jalapenos, zuchini, and mushrooms sauteed with butter garlic, onions and red wine vinegar. Serrved with rice and a salad of shredded cabbage, spinach, mushrooms and Pepper-Jack cheese in a citrus vinegarette, savory brown rice, a gluten-free bread of almond and rice flour and corn tortillas. Everything was cooked in the microwave (except the bread and tortillas which I toasted with butter on a steel plate on our propane burner) and it came out perfect both in texture and flavor. That is an achievement.

I had to wake Susanne up to tell her dinner was ready, then wake her up again to hand her her plate. I guess the poison oak adventure, followed by an all-nighter at Denny's and a busy day wore her out. She was asleep again within minutes of finishing dinner and slept through the night.

Nick and I enjoyed the meal, I took a long hot shower while he made coffee, then we gorged on sweets, and watched Slumdog Millionaire. Great film, absolutely fantastic, though disturbing at many levels. I ended up staying up till like three in the morning, but slept well once I went out...

Tuesday I woke groggy on four hours sleep after skipping a night to the sounds of Susanne and Nick clattering about, got a cup of coffee and dragged my cranky ass into the shower before I said much since I had nothing cheerful to say. The shower and coffee fixed that and I emerged looking human and feeling cheerful about a day in the City.

We ate while we consulted our map, our memories of earlier San Francisco excursions, and the phone book looking for likely looking places to find art or do art. Finally we decided to wing it by heading back towards City Center, planning to catch a bus or the BART at some point and end up in the Mission District where there is an innovative arts center that provides living and working space for disabled artists to work, show, and sell their art. We checked the place's website, and it looked like a very cool setup—just our sort of thing.

We started walking East on Chestnut, occasionally consulting a map, and it was like flying. Being free from our packs for the day was wonderful. Susanne had her buttpack, and I carried my computer, sketchbook, novel, and some art supplies in my daypack, but the difference between carrying seventy pounds and carrying fifteen pounds is enormous. We could have been in a RedBull comercial even though we were fueled by coffee and tea. The sun was playing tag with interestingly shaped clouds so we just kept walking, it was so easy.

Eventually we decided that we would walk down Fisherman's Wharf to the BART there, and then catch BART where we wanted to go. We walked and took tons of pictures of random cool stuff, spent some time in a huge art gallery with tons of way expensive stuff in it (like a $160,000 clock and pornographic Japanese Ivory minatures for $3,600, see photos).

We learned, yet again, that when walking in San Francisco it is wise to use every bathroom you see, so as to avoid ducking behind a tree, for that is exactly what I had to do behind the Fog City Diner, irrigating their backyard while Susanne and Nick distracted pedestrians on the other side of the hedge. Next door to the diner is a beautiful little park where we sat and smoked for a bit, ate chocolate and took more photos. There we discussed eventual destinations for a few minutes, having realized that it was after three. We wanted to see more art, and were debating the relative merits of the gallery/workshop in the Mission District vrs the Palace of Fine Arts and not coming to any useful conclusions. Nick and I were rather neutral, neither ever having been to either—either would do, and Susanne could not make up her mind, so she importuned a couple sitting on a bench near the little waterfall there and asked their opinion. The young Asian hipster said he had never been to the one, and the last time he had been to the Palace was years back, but that he would recommend the Palace.

Thus edified, we gave up on the BART and headded back the way we had come, but by a somewhat different route that took in some interesting alleys beneath the Coit tower on the way to Crookedest Street, and thence off down Lombard towards our hotel and the Palace on the other side.We split up at that point, with Nick continuing to walk back towards the hotel while Susanne and I began looking for a bus as the hour was getting late and we were afraid we might not get there before closing.

To make a long story short, we got coffee to acquire change for a bus we never found going the correct direction, and wound up back at the hotel not long after Nick. We decided to go up to the room and use the computer and phone to find our way and check on the hours which we had of course missed by then. So we stayed in the room, made another good dinner and contented ourselves with the days walk, good food, coffee, Noepolitan ice cream, and another couple of movies. That night we all got to sleep at a reasonable hour and woke prepared to abandon the City the following morning.

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Further After Easter:

Further After Easter:

Stardate: 04.11.2010:

So, I was caught up to Friday the 9th... James C. left us to return to Modesto, leaving Susanne, Nick, and Me at the Starbucks at the Linda Mar Shopping Center, we hung out there most of the afternoon, and into the early evening, doing some writing, checking email, and so forth. Susanne went searching for Art shows and such in the area when she was online and discovered the Chavez Arts Center just up the road was opening their annual “Arts on Fire” exhibit and contest, including a forty minute belly dancing performance, fire dancers, BBQ, Dessert, beer, wine, and so forth.

Seems like Fridays are the Days for Art on this trip because the week before was the Santa Cruz Museum of Art and History. I'm not complaining, there was a bunch of cool art on display, and the belly dancers were impressive—also the fire dancers, call me Captain Obvious. Unfortunately, I did not get many pictures of the Art, although above you have a flaming guitar sculpture made of welded steel and gears and such (it moved), a couple of huge paintings that look like satellite maps, and the file of belly dancers coming out before the show.

Anyways, after all was said and done we enjoyed ourselves and so did everyone else I saw or talked to. We left as things were winding down about nine and walked back down to the beach, putting us at a paltry three or four miles for the day.

When we got to the beach it was already dark and we (again) didn't know what the tides were going to be like except that one guy we talked to who also had a big backpack and camped out locally told us that the “[...] water comes up pretty high there, I sleep up on the hill.” We followed the upper part of the beach for a bit and finally pitched the tent under a couple cypress trees between the edge of the sand and the bike path. Susanne cooked a rice mushroom and chilli curry for dinner that we ate with chips and the mussel shell spoons she collected for us at the beach in Montera. That rice was frigging GOOD, and we talked and ate candy and drank coffee afterwards and slept until we woke and did not get hassled...excellent 1st night in town.

Saturday we spent most of the day at Starbucks then hiked up the hill and set up camp in a mountainous county park at the top of Linda Mar Blvd. We saw several deer on our way in, and camped in a place where they were obviously in the habit of sleeping in because of circles of flattened grass. Had a nice evening, ate, smoked, talked, drank coffee, Susanne and Nick fell assleep, then I got out this computer and played Free Cell Solitaire until the battery died.

Yesterday morning Susanne got up early and went for a hike—I was sensable and kept sleeping till she got back, and Nick woke up somewhere in between. When she got back, it had begun to rain a bit, and we made coffee (tea for Susanne).

We were getting ready to make some grits for breakfast when we heard a thundering engine and a County Park Ranger showed up to kick us out. He took our IDs, ran our names, and told us to break camp while he was waiting to hear back. Then he asked us who wanted to take responsibility as the leader of our little band. Since I figured this meant that he only felt like writing one ticket, I replied “I'll take it.”

By that time he had mellowed in his behavior towards us, commenting that we had packed up fast , clean, and thanking us for picking up our trash. We took turns saying stuff like “Pack it in—pack it out.” and other such true platitudes. Then he had us throw our packs into the back of his truck and climb into the backseat so he could escort us out of the park. That saved us a mile worth of walking, and saved him the worry that instead of hiking out we would simply dissappear into some other crevice in the landscape that was better hidden.

It was not until he dropped us off back at the road, in a steady drizzle, that he gave us our Ids back and told us we were welcome to come back when we could follow the rules. “No hard feelings, there is nothing personal about this, I'm just doing my job.”

I asked him if he had ever tried to backpack the coast and pay for camping every night, he said “It's getting pretty tough these days.”

I said, “Well, don't worry, we'll stay out of your park for today, but like you're doing your job, I'm just doing mine. What's an unemployed English teacher supposed to do for fun anyways?”

He said, “Yeah, it's rough out there.”

We walked away.

Back down the hill to Starbucks by about noon where we stayed until almost five waiting for a good break in the rain. Then we decided to head back South a little way on the 1 and try to find a good camp in the State preserve on the edge of town. Found one, but only after a disasterous detour through a poison oak infested hillside (my bad). Susanne was not happy as she is violently allergic to the evil shit, I was not happy, and I don't think Nick was either though it can be hgard to tell with Nick sometimes he is so generally quiet it is exceptional when he starts chattering, but it does happen.

Instead of camping, we hiked back down to the beach bathrooms, washed our feet, lower legs, and shoes off thouroughly with soap and cold water, then headed over to the laundrymat by the Starbucks. There we washed and dried all dirty clothes and shoes (which needed to be done anyhow) to get rid of potential poison oak contamination. By the time we finished it was well after nine and we decided to repair to the Denny's, get coffee and food, and wait out the rainy night. So we did. We all ate a ton, drank coffee, talked, Susanne read some, and so did I. Nick balanced coins, forks, spoons and so on to create artistic arrangements, I started this post and played some more free cell, Nick slept sitting up for a while. Then, at a little after five we moved back over here to Starbucks. Today, Monday, we are planning to get into San Francisco. Susanne is trying to get a hold of some people she knows who have a couple of Hostel like rooms, and we are hoping to stay there tonight. The place does not open till 9:30, so then we will find out what the deal is and decide on an appropriate course of action.

After Easter and so on...

Stardate: 04.11.2010

Monday April 5th dawned sunny and mostly clear, with only wispy clouds between the Lighthouse point we started walking from and the sun. Walking away from the Hostel we all felt renewed, clean, and triumphant. Beforte we even made it out to the HWY-1 I smelled onions, looked over and saw that the Hispanic pickers in the field at the side of the road were harvesting leeks. Visions of leek soup floated across my tastebuds and I importuned the closest migrant with a smile and a wave, “Como esta amigo,” I said, “Un Leek para mi?”

“Bien...si.” he replied, handing me one enormous green onion and smiling that patented smile that is reserved for crazy gringos.

“Gracias man, muchas gracias.” I ended and swung on down the road whistling and using the leek like a conductors baton. We were heading for a little tyown called Pescadero because it had the nearest market and we were almost out of food and cigarettes, and Pescadero was four miles up the coast and two miles inland according to the old hippie guy who ran the hostel and was either stoned or just very laid back at all times dude. We found a connecting road that cut off a bit and we also saw many beautiful things on the way (including a pile of abandoned, but fresh, leeks and a fennel bulb which we promptly added to our load) and we made the distance in about two and a half hours over hill and dale.

Pescadero is a nice, friendly, small town that intends to stay that way. They have one gas station/taqueria, and two Deli-markets next door to each other, none of which take food stamps so I shopped cheap. The legs and thighs of a chicken, a couple potatoes, some jalapenos and some frosty Mountain Dew for the road. Susanne got some Cranberry-Pomegranite juice and a couple other little things, and J.C. And Nick pretty much sat outside and enjoyed the break.


Then we set off down Stage road towards the town of San Gregorio seven miles to the North and back on the 1 (or so we thought). By then it was about three in the afternoon and we were looking for a campsite from the moment we cleared the outskirts of Pescadero, but we were entering horse and ccow country and the road was either bordered by poison oak among the eucalyptus trees, or by inhospitable barbed wire fences. We found what appeared to be a good site, up a dirt road, after about three miles, but it also turned out to be infested with poison oak, so on we trekked getting more tired and cranky by the yard. Finally we found an unfenced property with no “No Trespassing” signs that had been planted with cyprus and pine at some point. Poison oak does not like pines, so we were safe.

Susanne had a brief freak out and wanted to go by herself to beach, but was talked out of it and settled down to cut vegetables for dinner while Nick and the two Jameses set up camp. Later she attacked her tent, but the thing about Susanne is that she is so consientious about the feelings of others that she appologises even when she does not need to, so it is easy to just get past bursts of temper. We all figured that it had been a long days walking with heavy gear (10-12 miles), and we were hungry, so a bit of temper was par for the course. Dinner was cooked over a fire for a change to conserve propane, and because we needed several things cooking at once. Potato-leek soup, tortillas, and grilled chicken (cooked on a steel plate) was terrific and made everyone feel much better. The ground was sloped and bumpy, but we still slept well and awoke refreshed.

Tuesday we hiked another two miles into San Gregorio (which, as Susanne mentioned in her blog, I kept mispronouncing in a variet of ways) and I caught a snake on the way.

There we enjoyed the General Store's ambience (totally cool place, check it out if you are ever in the area. I bought two stickers “Art Junkie” and “Not All Who Wander Are Lost,” for my computer. Susanne and J.C. also bought stickers, and we had beverages. There turned out to be a bus stop right outside the store that we discovered would pick us up at 6:30pm, so we walked another mile down to San Gregorio State Beach where we lounged the afternoon away and waited for the bus.

There was a stop right across from the beach, so at the end of the day we caught the bus there and rode it up the coast to Half Moon Bay where we went to Safeway and were looking for a campsite when we got interrupted by a ranger. She told us where we could camp for $7.00 each. We said ok, waited for her to leave, then hiked off in the opposite direction and camped on the dunes. The next day, we caught bus up to Monterra State Beach where we spent Wednsday, and Thursday nights. Fabulous place, we enjoyed our two days there quite a bit, though it was hella windy. I'll post some photos and such from there later, but it is almost time to go find camp for tonight, and the rain has stopped for now, so I need to finish this quick.

Friday we caught another bus into Pacifica, and J.C. left us at the Linda Mar Shopping Center Starbucks to return to the world of the day to day. That night we camped on the beach right across the street...

to be continued...

On Easter Morning

On Easter morning

I
Like God


am reborn

where land and sea
frolic together
in sand and foam
on the left coast


Where I AM


Roaming to and fro upon the Earth


and I wonder
if the clouds were grey
and low
to catch the gulls cries
on this morning
long ago

If a single ray of sun
broke through to light HIS way home
like you might see in a movie

or if the spirit drifted
heavenward like smoke

If the Angels song
sounded like these waves
against the stone...

Peace out y'all...
                                                         

Walking and Writing Go Together, Sort Of, Kind Of, Not Really:

Stardate: 04.10.2010

Writing and walking are interrelated in that walking gives you plenty of time to think about writing, and you see and experience plenty of things to write about, but the two endeavors remain more or less mutually exclusive. I can write while walking, but it is likely to result in tripping, or running into something (like the end of Susanne's stick that is often held parallel to the ground at approximately the height of my crotch), or getting run over because I'm not looking where I'm going, or some other equally unfavorable result. Furthermore, if I write while I walk I am seeing the page, and the past I am writing about rather than the scenery I am passing, and it is also difficult to take photos while walking and writing at the same time.

 addition, my writing times have been constrained by the necessities of maintaining forward momentum on this trip, as well as by all the other exciting and/or necessary things to do during a day on the road. Things like cooking for four on a single propane burner half buried in the sand to prevent it from tipping over while the wind tries to blow it out and season one's repast with grit at the same time, or setting up a tent while the wind tries to turn it into a kite, or lying in the sun with your eyes closed and absorbing warmth on a chilly spring afternoon, or capturing canine skulls and snakes in the wild (though admittedly I have only captured one of each so far),

                                                                          or taking pictures of anything and everything even vaugely interesting in subject or composition,

or painting on my denim jacket and writing quotes on the sleeves with permanent marker. Let us not forget smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee, herbifying before dinner, talking trash with fellow walkers, reading novels and bibles, creating sculpture using sand, stones, and sticks, or giving and receiving back rubs after a long day under the enormous weight of my pack, sleeping to the sound of surf and wind, dodging traffic on the highway, dodging bikes on the bikepath, wading in the ocean, contemplating my navel,

and endless other edifying pursuits up to and including eating a pound and a half of candy in one sitting.

All of this excitement has therefore caused me to fall behind on writing, though I have wrtitten a bit of poetry and such longhand, and I will eventually transcribe such into digital format and post it in the appropriate places. Lack of power sources and internet connections has also taken a toll, half the time my cellphone doesn't even work, and the computer's battery is only good for about two hours between charges. Nonetheless, I must persevere and communicate at least the gist of our adventures to the intrepid reader.

Since I last posted much has transpired. We were still in Santa Cruz then, now we are in Pacifica, and the journey is a tale indeed. On Friday, the 2nd of April we headed into Santa Cruz from our camp at Natural Bridges and established ourselves at an outside table belonging to the Safeway Starbucks on Mission St. From there I uploaded some photos, we charged devices, and Susanne contacted friend Anne who came to meet us there.

It started raining again as we joined Anne and her husband Chris for lunch at a nearby taqueria, then she dropped us off downtown at a thrift store. Got a book there, and Susanne got something or other, then we walked down to Trader Joe's to stock up on groceries on our way to bus stop. Before shopping we saw that the Art and History Museum was free on Fridays and had a surf art exibit going on and we were bummed because we thought that we'd have to skip it if we were going to catch bus to North County. Turned out that we missed one bus and the next didn't leave until 7:15pm, so we stopped in another thrift store where I picked up a weatherproof jacket for four doillars, and then we got to spend three hours at the museum and that was way cool, particularly since Art is kinda the point of this expedition.

Anyway, we enjoyed the museum, then took a bus to Davenport, arriving near dark, and started hiking North looking for a good camp spot. Came across this small beach access on a short side road off the one, and pitched our tents on the grass near the pit toilets since it was already nearly ten and we didn't know what the tide was going to be like. In the morning, we moved tents down to beach, made breakfast, and hung out reading and writing and such, at about 10am James Comfort texted me saying he was on the way, and I sent back info on what bus to take to meet us. He called when he got off in Davenport and I walked out to the one to meet him and guide him in.

We hung out some more, built a sand sculpture with sticks and rocks included, and then hiked a couple of miles before finding a good spot to camp on the beach at a place called Pelican Rock. J.C. Had never met Susanne or Nick in person, but he fit right in like I figured he would. Easter Morning, we lounged through the morning, and started walking about 11:30, then it started raining and we walked in it for hours. Wound up making coffee and rice under the eves of a State wildlife reserve bathroom at Nuevo Anno, then hung out in information center.

After a while, Susanne talked a ranger into giving us a ride to the Pigeon Point Lighthouse Youth Hostel. Susanne's Mom generously funded beds for us, and we all were in one room, the other two rooms occupied by a nice family from France with two adorable and inquisitive little girls, and a couple from Washington or something like that. We all got hot showers, I made a fantastic dinner in a real kitchen, got online briefly but couldn't do anything useful, then we played Scrabble (my favorite boardgame, YAY!) and I won. Then everyone else went to sleep and I took another shower.

Gotta Go! But I'll be back soon with next installment of the adventure...peace out y'all.

I Am Way Behind on Posting...but will catch up.

I Have just been busy walking, talking, taking photos, and generally living. Also, net access has been quite limited. In the meantime, here is a sample of the places we've been.

Rest Day Necessitated By Rain, Probably A Good Thing: Stardate 04.01.2010:

The rain cleared up Tuesday enough for us to move around, but came back that night, and continued intermittently all day yesterday and into this Morning...stopped sometime after Midnight. We all stayed dry this time...yay...but that meant a lot of down time. 


I got to read and write some, Susanne went for a long walk, Nick napped and wrote. We had a great vegetarian stirfry for lunch, but then got stuck with cold ham, cheese, and salsa for dinner because it was raining too hard to use burner outside, and too dangerous to use it in tent. 


Still, the enforced rest was good for us. We probably needed a day of eating and resting to let our bodies catch up to the strain of carrying the huge load we've saddled ourselves with.  All of us feel stronger today, and that is no April fool. Off to find a good place to do art and maybe sell some jewelery or something...peace.

April Fools: the remaining crew as of 04.01.2010, hiking into town.