Viva La France!

Went biking with my friend Amy Stockard today. She's got a biking trip through France coming up and while I'm super jealous, I'm also thankful that she needs the practice as she usually HATES riding. There's a great trail close to both our houses that goes all the way down to the beach so we took advantage. I have to tell ya, you don't really recognize just how out of shape you've become until you try to do something that used to come easily!

In any case, the weather was beautiful and the beach wasn't crowded with vacationers and kids since it's still relatively early in the season. The lifeguard towers in Huntington weren't even all pulled into place yet.

The Boneyard

Went to Ecology Auto Wrecking for some odds and ends today. I didn't have much luck but God help me I love the junkyard. Part graveyard, part butcher shop, there's just something mesmerizing about walking through the decaying metal and lubricative effluence of demised transport.

While one is usually there with the purpose of hunting down a specific and sometimes very crucial item, I’ve come to realize that a good deal isn’t what heats my fluids about it.

I’ve had a lifelong love-lust with cars, and while there’s a part of me that’s fascinated by the unique mechanical perspective afforded by bodies in various states of dissection, that’s not entirely it either.

It’s fascinating because each of these sad creatures was once an intricate part of some family’s life…yet now sits like a family pet on its final trip to the vet. Now I know a lot of my friends out there are animal lovers and may be getting ready to whop me upside the head so please let me clarify that I don’t equate the value of a living breathing animal to two tons of assorted steel and plastic. Nonetheless, our cars are an integral part of our lives and love them or hate them, provide most of us with the means to earn and gather food and sustenance.

I’m not a mystic by any stretch, but that kind of connection imparts some vestige of the soul. There’s usually nothing particularly remarkable about the ghosts one pictures, but each car carries story of humanity. Someone’s first feeble kiss after the homecoming game in a borrowed ‘82 Chevy Citation, a newborn’s ride home from the hospital in a brand new ‘87 Dodge Caravan, summer trips to Yosemite with Grandma and Grandpa in their ‘74 Ford Country Squire station wagon. The stories are endless and cliched.

I still can’t go to the Santa Monica Pier without thinking of Uncle Mike driving us there in his Chevy Vega, always blasting La Boheme (now there’s a contradictory image if ever I saw/heard one!) because it was the only tape he had.

I’ve often wondered where our family’s cars have gone after our stewardship, but hope the associated memories remain corrosion free until my turn at the foundry.

Sadly there aren't many good pics of the family '78 Impala, but here's one. I've also added a couple doozies of the beasts on our street (sister not withstanding).

Bananas

It's a thin line balancing your weekend sometimes. Any weekend where you have an absolute blast is one it seems you have to pay for by being extra frustrated the following week. Happiness is like heroin; you're always chasing the dragon. The problem is, the happier you get during the weekend, the more you recognize how unsatisfied you are the rest of the time.

What I'm trying to say, in my usual roundabout path through a valley of negativity is....I had a great weekend. Started it off on Saturday with some bodyboarding in San Clemente (got a steal on a great wetsuit recently), a bike ride to Huntington Beach on Sunday morning, kayaking in Newport Harbor in the evening and rounded it all off with some brews at Montage in Laguna Beach and then at a local biker hangout called Cook's Corner. I was so wrapped up in my own bliss, I didn't even recognize Gwen Stefani when she walked within 8 feet of me.

In some ways I guess I'm glad to be back at work so I can get some well deserved rest! That my friends is how it should be (though I'd prefer 5 days of weekend and 2 days of work instead).

Croc Hunt!

Came home to a little visitor staring at me as I walked through the door today. He was very amiable and cooperative with respect to climbing into a shoebox. I offered dinner and a drink but he respectfully declined and excused himself mumbling some nonsense about car insurance...which reminds me I need to call Farmer's about the truck! A camera with a decent macro setting wouldn't hurt either.

High Price of Gas?

BAH! I bought a full size 4x4 truck today. Those that know me can tell you that this is way out of character. I got a great deal from a friend of a friend though, and I couldn't pass up the offer. She's got a lot of miles under her and she ain't perfect, but someone clearly took care of the important stuff and, from what I can tell, had a great time. I don't know the full story, but it belonged to a gentleman that left this world at too young an age.

I found it a bit heartbreaking to find medical paperwork mixed in with the maintenance records, but it somehow speaks to me with respect to the value the owner put on this vehicle.

The most interesting find was the contents I found behind the driver's seat. About 6 magazines, and I don't mean Vogue or Cosmo!

Road to Nowhere

Nope not having an existential moment or even listening to the Talking Heads. Came across a hike recently called Road to Nowhere in the San Gabriel Mountains above Azusa. Not a very strenuous hike, but an interesting one to be sure. It's basically a fire road to two mountain tunnels that were built in the early 60s in an effort to connect Highway 39 to Highway 2 but were never used. There isn't any cover with respect to trees, so this wouldn't be my first choice for a summer hike but the cool weather we're currently experiencing made it perfect. We arrived at the trailhead at about 8:30 AM so it was nice and cool with an early morning fog that shielded us from the sun a bit. There are a couple of honey farms along the path, so the buzzing of bees was pretty prevalent throughout the hike. Everything is beginning to bloom with the start of spring, so there was a bit of flowering color along the way also. It's a pretty eerie feeling walking through these tunnels on a dirt road with no one around. Not Charlton Heston at the end of Planet of the Apes, but unusual nonetheless.

Someone had taken the time to mosaic tile the word "Love" at the end of the first tunnel, which was pretty cool. I took a photo of it, and the flash picked up the word "HATE" spray painted across the mosaic. I thought it was kind of crummy, then it dawned on me that both the words were perfect descriptions of the motivation that spawned the display. Art is all around us my friends.