Take a break from getting radical and hang with Thor as he and friends impart musical mischief and poetic pandering on your hot sweet booties.
Striding up a mountain at 8am while my biological day clock says I should be sleeping for another 4 hours is a strangely satisfying masachism, poorly justified by a swindling inner voice shouting ‘this is good for me.’ I always debate myself the evening before waking up early for a vertical canyon hike, ‘what does the me of tommorow want to do?’ Invairably I conclude I need the workout(aka calves) and will more thoroughly enjoy my day in the office knowing I hiked that morning. However, when I hit the third steep stretch and my energy level sags to naught, I can’t help but scold my former self for such an onerous conscription. I always want to put out my best, and then push that, but without a decent nights sleep?- forget about it.
But while the hike unfolds and my girlfriend and I share exasperated conversation between sucking air, I becomes clear that these dirt stairmaster trails aren’t nearly as much about hiking as they are eachother. We learn to listen about our lives, our aspirations, hopes, failures and passions. About Feng Shui and babies and cougars and the ever elusive L word. It’s about accomplishing something exhausting so you can catch your breath on all the other things in life; In the life you want for the ‘you of tommorow.’ From the top of the mountian, you get all the perspective you need. Breathe deep.
Water is somehow always a lucid metaphor for a simple understanding of life’s many introspective experiences and moments. Like the mountain stream that always flows towards the sea, the movement of aqua is form and direction for sustaining an acute emotional meaning into the domino of nuances that compose our experiences.
Today I showed a young woman how to surf for the first time.
The cold refreshing sea water, the thrill of the rides, the newness and exoticism of it all was an awakening. We began to talk about our lives, our decisions, and living with them. The brilliant clear water made a much needed window into the divergent paths from which our lives were now intersecting. As the waves washed us over we shared a moment of lucidity. It was understood that just for this brief moment away from land, we were both free from the trappings of things and people from which our spirits yearned to escape, but from which our rationalities would never allow. However, this freedom also made us more aware of the prisons we have designed for ourselves in forced relationships, cages we’d become so resigned to we hardly notice the bars.
After smiles we departed. But the water in our ears and the sand between our toes always lingers a while longer, subtle reminders of those brief moments of shared solemn clarity; And perhaps a new compass by which to navigate the unriden waves of the future.
Something strange has happened. I can’t get full. Tuna sandwich, chew bars, raisins, banana, and I’m still hungry. Solution? Mexican. 100% pure mexicana grinds. Nothing else will curb this insatiable scratch for calories. I have to plug this bottomless pit, so it’s fast times at burrito high. Un grande pollo burrito con frijoles y arroz for this gringo. Damn I’m thirsty. Ahhh yes, una negra modela to ease the pain. Now I can work en paz. Tranquilo.
I can see the sun setting in the reflections on the windows across the street from mine. The trees have stopped swaying after a blustery day. It’s finally calm, and that gives me about 30 minutes of surf time if I hustle. How bad do I want it? My wettie is damp and cold, the ocean is still chilly, and there is a small mountain range of old unsticky wax on my board. What’s the call? I’m out there.
Well, we knew it was coming, and it’s finally here. Rain. Yes, rain, wind and more rain has descended upon us like mongols riding down the steppes. The storm is here, and I’m pumped. This weekend I was thinking about doing some back country snowboarding in the local mountains, and there just isn’t a base yet at 8,000ft. Hopefully we’ll get dumped on and come sunny saturday I’ll be building kickers and dodging trees.
This morning, however, was a completely different story. It was a sunny morning and I woke up early and did a hike from the base of the canyon to top of the world with a hot girlfriend on mine. Twenty minutes before our hike I was rushing out the door, and pounded a big bowl of cereal. Thinking nothing of it, we charged up the mountain and I was feelin strong. Just before the top, bam, my stomach just lost it. The dairy had to go, and that was it. After about three good hurls my enitre cereal breakfast was sufficiently puked out for some lucky deer to lick up later. I felt fine after that and we continued our hike. Note to self, don’t do intense physical exercise right after downing a large amount of milk. Next time, I’m nibbling on a chew bar and saving breakfast for afterwards.
So sayeth the south africans, ain’t nothing but a monkey’s wedding. That’s when it’s raining but also sunny out. This afternoon the coastal trails were a dream. Brilliant sun cutting through the canyon while rain was drizzling down. It’s such a unique weather set that it inspired in me a sense of time. I’m not sure I remember the last time I was out enjoying a sunny rain. Was it a soccer game I played as a squirt? Can’t be sure how accurate that memory is, though I remember the smell of the grass. Suppose it’s good I’m makin new ones then. I guess some things only happen every once in a blue moon.
How many waves must a man surf down, before you can call him a man. The answer my friend, is blowin in the wind, the answer is blowin in the wind. offshore wind. Straight offshore wind. Howling. Burning. Blowing mini emerald tubers straight out the back. Maybe too small. I’m going kayaking.
As said-surfer dude my request follows thusly. 2 poppy, 3 everything, 4 sesame, 2 plain, and 1 bialy will be sufficient surf bait. The surf is small, but i still might hit it in a little. Water looks clean and the wind is light. might have to shine the burrito and get right down there. shakah.