On September 20, I made the drive from the redwoods back to Livermore. It was nice to get home, but I also wish the trip could have gone on a little longer. I managed to hang out with a lot of family members and chill with some old friends, but each visit seemed to be over just a little too soon. In addition, the trip reinforced my realization that there are many incredible places to go and things to do in this world, but we have only a limited amount of time available to us.
These thoughts led me to a rhetorical question: when you're 70 years old and annoying your grandchildren with stories of the good old days, do you want to regale them with tales of that wicked episode of Lost that you watched? Or do you want to brag about the time you jumped out of an airplane from 30,000 feet, landed on a surfboard and shredded your way back into shore? The choice is yours, but I recommend the following: turn off your TV, meet new people, reconnect with old friends, and always be on the lookout for new experiences. Peace!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Humboldt Redwoods State Park, CA
On September 19, I drove from Roseburg to Humboldt Redwoods State Park, which is located in scenic Northern California. I must say, the drive from Grant's Pass into the redwoods is one of the prettiest drives I have ever taken. I highly recommend it, both for the view and for the excitement of tearing around tight mountain curves at unsafe speeds.
The park itself was absolutely beautiful:
I ended up camping at Albee Creek Campground, which is 5 miles off the 101, down a windy and narrow road. I thought the campground would be fairly secluded but I forgot that I was back in California, home of the masses, and discovered that the campground was nearly full. However, I found a fairly quiet spot next to a nice stream.
Behind my campsite was a trail that went straight up the hill, so I decided to go for a short hike and see if I could get a look around. After about 20 minutes the trail opened onto a meadow, and I came upon a stunningly majestic view of the mountains covered in an ancient blanket of trees as far as the eye could see. It was a view with the power to cause the most hardened of men to weep bitter tears of joy. However, I forgot my camera so you'll just have to take my word for it.
A little further up the trail, I came around a bend and found myself face to face with a six-point buck. I looked at it, and it looked straight back at me. I didn't move, and it didn't either. I realized that due to its relative size and its unnervingly challenging gaze, not to mention its possession of sharp horns and hooves, that I should probably back away. Therefore, I made a hasty, but manly, retreat back to my campsite.
After getting back down the hill, I decided to take a shower. Unfortunately, the shower was a pay shower and I was a little short on coinage.
Look at that sign for a moment...up to 15 quarters? Other than Mistress Vagabond, who needs 37.5 minutes to take a shower? Not I! Being a mountain man, I only chucked in two quarters and finished my shower with plenty of time to spare. Huzzah!
The park itself was absolutely beautiful:
I ended up camping at Albee Creek Campground, which is 5 miles off the 101, down a windy and narrow road. I thought the campground would be fairly secluded but I forgot that I was back in California, home of the masses, and discovered that the campground was nearly full. However, I found a fairly quiet spot next to a nice stream.
Behind my campsite was a trail that went straight up the hill, so I decided to go for a short hike and see if I could get a look around. After about 20 minutes the trail opened onto a meadow, and I came upon a stunningly majestic view of the mountains covered in an ancient blanket of trees as far as the eye could see. It was a view with the power to cause the most hardened of men to weep bitter tears of joy. However, I forgot my camera so you'll just have to take my word for it.
A little further up the trail, I came around a bend and found myself face to face with a six-point buck. I looked at it, and it looked straight back at me. I didn't move, and it didn't either. I realized that due to its relative size and its unnervingly challenging gaze, not to mention its possession of sharp horns and hooves, that I should probably back away. Therefore, I made a hasty, but manly, retreat back to my campsite.
After getting back down the hill, I decided to take a shower. Unfortunately, the shower was a pay shower and I was a little short on coinage.
Look at that sign for a moment...up to 15 quarters? Other than Mistress Vagabond, who needs 37.5 minutes to take a shower? Not I! Being a mountain man, I only chucked in two quarters and finished my shower with plenty of time to spare. Huzzah!
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Roseburg, OR
On September 18, I left sunny* Seattle and drove south into the lush and green state of Oregon. I was planning to camp at a park near Salem, which has a nice waterfall, but it was raining. Being the wuss that I am, I chose not to camp in the rain. Instead, I drove further south to Roseburg, and camped out in the comfort of the Motel 6. Here's a lovely shot of Roseburg from the parking lot:
I have to admit, the Motel 6 was actually pretty nice. There weren't any bloodstains on the carpet, and the clientele seemed fairly non-degenerate. However, I chose not to do the black light test.
* sarcasm
I have to admit, the Motel 6 was actually pretty nice. There weren't any bloodstains on the carpet, and the clientele seemed fairly non-degenerate. However, I chose not to do the black light test.
* sarcasm
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Seattle, WA
On Friday September 16 I drove from Walla Walla to Seattle to take part in the wedding of my buddy Pete, aka Twiggums, aka Father McNasty, aka The Chosen One. The wedding was down on the waterfront, and offered a beautiful view of the water and of downtown.
The rehearsal was on Friday, and the wedding was on Saturday. Both were a great deal of fun; I saw some people I hadn't seen in years, I met some new folks, I watched my buddy get married, and I got drunk and danced around like an idiot.
Ladies, take note of the picture above. That was the first (and quite possibly the last) time I have ever worn a tux, so get your fill while you can.
While I was in Seattle I stayed with Heather and Phil, who are my brother's wife's sister and my brother's wife's sister's husband, respectively. Ashley and Ryan were also visiting, and are also my brother's wife's sister and my brother's wife's sister's husband, respectively. On Saturday morning, I helped Phil and Ryan tear down an old shed, then stood around and watched them build another one. A good time was had by all.
The rehearsal was on Friday, and the wedding was on Saturday. Both were a great deal of fun; I saw some people I hadn't seen in years, I met some new folks, I watched my buddy get married, and I got drunk and danced around like an idiot.
Ladies, take note of the picture above. That was the first (and quite possibly the last) time I have ever worn a tux, so get your fill while you can.
While I was in Seattle I stayed with Heather and Phil, who are my brother's wife's sister and my brother's wife's sister's husband, respectively. Ashley and Ryan were also visiting, and are also my brother's wife's sister and my brother's wife's sister's husband, respectively. On Saturday morning, I helped Phil and Ryan tear down an old shed, then stood around and watched them build another one. A good time was had by all.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Walla Walla, WA
On September 15 I drove from Pullman to Walla Walla, WA. Walla Walla is the home of the famous sweet onions, a bunch of wineries, and also Brother Vagabond. I spent the afternoon and evening chilling with my brother, my brother's wife, and my brother's wife's brother's wife's sister. In addition to chilling, we ate some Thai food and watched a movie.
I also took a walk around the neighborhood, and was attacked by a shitty little black dog. When it got within 10 feet of me it suddenly realized I meant business and took off yelping in the other direction. Who's the man now, dog?
I also took a walk around the neighborhood, and was attacked by a shitty little black dog. When it got within 10 feet of me it suddenly realized I meant business and took off yelping in the other direction. Who's the man now, dog?
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Pullman, WA
On September 13 I drove from Helena to Pullman, WA, the town where I spent the second 13 years of my life. It was a nice day, and I managed to arrive in time to go train at my sensei's dojo. That was fun, and it brought back a lot of memories. Memories of blood. And pain.
For those of you who don't know, Pullman is a farming community that is also the home of Washington State University, aka Wazzu. This makes for an interesting juxtaposition of cultural identity, as the town consists of about 9,000 full-time residents and 21,000 students. Consider the following two pictures:
The first picture is the Pullman-Moscow regional airport, and the second picture is Wazzu's 160,000-square-foot palatial recreation center. Needless to say, the university dominates the town's identity.
The WSU campus is very pretty, full of green grass and trees, and beautiful brick buildings. In addition, it is the home of this artistic monstrosity:
You are correct - that is a giant, pale blue heart covered with bits of something that remind me of gristle and body parts. I don't know the story of this thing, but I hope it never goes away.
I tend to disparage life in Pullman, because there is very little to do there. However, it is an excellent place to go to school and is the home of many fond memories. In addition, I learned that at the Sports Page Tavern you can buy a can of Rainier Beer, a 20-oz. Alaskan Amber, and a gin and tonic for the grand total of $6.75.
For those of you who don't know, Pullman is a farming community that is also the home of Washington State University, aka Wazzu. This makes for an interesting juxtaposition of cultural identity, as the town consists of about 9,000 full-time residents and 21,000 students. Consider the following two pictures:
The first picture is the Pullman-Moscow regional airport, and the second picture is Wazzu's 160,000-square-foot palatial recreation center. Needless to say, the university dominates the town's identity.
The WSU campus is very pretty, full of green grass and trees, and beautiful brick buildings. In addition, it is the home of this artistic monstrosity:
You are correct - that is a giant, pale blue heart covered with bits of something that remind me of gristle and body parts. I don't know the story of this thing, but I hope it never goes away.
I tend to disparage life in Pullman, because there is very little to do there. However, it is an excellent place to go to school and is the home of many fond memories. In addition, I learned that at the Sports Page Tavern you can buy a can of Rainier Beer, a 20-oz. Alaskan Amber, and a gin and tonic for the grand total of $6.75.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Helena, MT
After possibly taking a naked bath in the woods, I continued eastward to Helena MT, the home of Mother Vagabond. Her apartment has a nice view of the ugly apartment building across the parking lot, but also a decent view of Mount Helena.
On the morning of September 12, we woke up early and ascended Mt. Ascension, whose summit offers a nice view of Helena and the surrounding valley.
After our hike, we enjoyed a truly Montanan lunch: a buffalo burger washed down with a beer called Cold Smoke. Can you get more manly than that?
On the morning of September 12, we woke up early and ascended Mt. Ascension, whose summit offers a nice view of Helena and the surrounding valley.
After our hike, we enjoyed a truly Montanan lunch: a buffalo burger washed down with a beer called Cold Smoke. Can you get more manly than that?
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Jerry Johnson Hot Springs, ID
On the fourth morning of my vacation, I woke up and realized that so far I had spent far too little time surrounded by naked strangers. Therefore, I hopped into my car and backtracked a few miles to Jerry Johnson hot springs. The hot springs are located about 1.5 miles off of highway 12, on the opposite side of the river.
After a short hike, I came across the steaming pools of water, and settled down for a nice soak. My experience brought to mind the old philosophical riddle: If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did Doctor Vagabond go naked during his morning bath?
After a short hike, I came across the steaming pools of water, and settled down for a nice soak. My experience brought to mind the old philosophical riddle: If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did Doctor Vagabond go naked during his morning bath?
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Wendover Campground, ID
On the morning of September 10, I left Boise and headed into the mountains of Idaho. I drove north for a few hours, then headed east on highway 12 towards Montana. I stopped to camp for the night at Wendover Campground. It was very quiet, and situated on the beautiful Lochsa River.
I spent a little time skipping stones across the river, then headed back to set up camp. While walking around, I ran into Dave and Christina, who lived right across the street from me for 10 years in Pullman, WA. It turns out that they also own the property where my ex-girlfriend and her family used to live. I am not making this up. One can leave Pullman, but one can never truly escape.
I spent a little time skipping stones across the river, then headed back to set up camp. While walking around, I ran into Dave and Christina, who lived right across the street from me for 10 years in Pullman, WA. It turns out that they also own the property where my ex-girlfriend and her family used to live. I am not making this up. One can leave Pullman, but one can never truly escape.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Boise, ID
After enjoying the dirt of central Nevada, I continued northward to Boise, ID. I stayed with Vince and Lisa, two old friends and kindred spirits. They have a nice house with their own dojo built next to it:
On my first night there, we threw each other around and played with knives. This is our definition of a good time. I also learned that Vince knows how to make a killer drink; I had a headache for the next three days. In addition to doing martial arts, we spent a nice evening sitting on the back porch, drinking champagne and enjoying the view.
The morning I left, they loaded me up with food in preparation for my trip into the mountains.
On my first night there, we threw each other around and played with knives. This is our definition of a good time. I also learned that Vince knows how to make a killer drink; I had a headache for the next three days. In addition to doing martial arts, we spent a nice evening sitting on the back porch, drinking champagne and enjoying the view.
The morning I left, they loaded me up with food in preparation for my trip into the mountains.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Back on the road: Livermore, CA to Rye Patch State Recreation Area, NV
Howdy folks. After a 1.5-year hiatus, Doctor Vagabond is back on the road! For the next two weeks, I will be doing a loop around the western US in order to attend a wedding in Seattle. Along the way, I am pleased to share my mundane experiences with all of you. If you're wise, you'll find something better to do with your time. But you're not, so strap in and let's go!
On Wednesday September 7 I drove out of sunny Livermore, CA and headed east toward the wild plains of Nevada, armed with only the necessities: a roll of toilet paper, some light reading, and a big-ass knife.
Driving east, I passed through the beautiful mountains of eastern California. I decided stop for lunch at a rest stop, and heard the sounds of a pleasant, babbling brook. Following the sound, I came across something less than pleasant.
I chose not to drink. Eventually, I ended up at Rye Patch State Recreation Area, located in the middle of nowhere, Nevada. Despite being situated in the center of a giant dirt field, it was actually fairly pretty.
After eating a tasty dinner of avocado mixed with tuna fish and smeared on a cold bagel, I took a short hike around the reservoir. At one point, I came across a bench overlooking the water, and saw this:
I couldn't agree more.
On Wednesday September 7 I drove out of sunny Livermore, CA and headed east toward the wild plains of Nevada, armed with only the necessities: a roll of toilet paper, some light reading, and a big-ass knife.
Driving east, I passed through the beautiful mountains of eastern California. I decided stop for lunch at a rest stop, and heard the sounds of a pleasant, babbling brook. Following the sound, I came across something less than pleasant.
I chose not to drink. Eventually, I ended up at Rye Patch State Recreation Area, located in the middle of nowhere, Nevada. Despite being situated in the center of a giant dirt field, it was actually fairly pretty.
After eating a tasty dinner of avocado mixed with tuna fish and smeared on a cold bagel, I took a short hike around the reservoir. At one point, I came across a bench overlooking the water, and saw this:
I couldn't agree more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)