California One

My triumphant return to California last week felt like 7 years packed into 8 days. I hit many of my old Berkeley haunts (Picante, the Albatross, Jeremy's, Moe's, Strada, Inspiration Point), tried out a few instant Bay Area classics (Bake Sale Betty's, Yank Sing, Everett & Jones in a restaurant, the Blue Bottle, the Fleuvog store), devoured tacos in Santa Cruz, mutilated crab in Pismo Beach, spotted whales off the Pacific Coast Highway, gorged on In 'n' Out in Goleta, brushed with fame in LA (the cast of HIMYM, Billy Bob Thorton at the Griddle, Ione Skye outside Largo), and caught up with my CA peeps along the way.

The trip was great, with one caveat: I arrived at the UC Registrar's office a mere 10 minutes after it closed before a long weekend, preventing me from claiming my hard-earned diploma and enjoying a Rocky-esque moment of jogging down the steps of Sproul Plaza, parchment paper in hand. Somehow mailing off $12 and waiting 6 weeks for a tube isn't quite the same.

Anyway, here are some photos of the trip.

Dude, we are so totally not in California anymore

Yesterday.

Today.

Eat Your Heart Out, John Muir

YOSEMITE, CALIF. -- Just back from a quick trip to Yosemite, where with a summer afternoon/evening, you can take a hybrid shuttle bus to the trailhead to Mist Trail, hike to the top of Vernal Falls, and be back in time to enjoy a couple of Yosemite Pale Ales and pizza before bed!Of course, some things probably haven't changed: namely, the ranger chasing after the nocturnal visitors to the Curry Village tent cabin trash cans with a flashlight bellowing "Get goin' bear! Go on! Get!" all night long...

I'm sure John and Ansel had trouble sleeping through that, too.

Pygmies and Giants

Our post-graduation retreat outside the town of Mendocino was nestled between the Pygmy Redwood Forest and new growth redwoods, which are very large and very tall, but not as big as the old growth redwoods, which are even larger and even taller. Unfortunately, in that part of the state of California, all you get to see are the stumps of the old growth redwoods, dwarfing the adolescent redwoods that surround them. It's a bit of a bummer to wander around the forest in those parts and notice stump after stump after stump. You figure the loggers must have forgotten one, right? But they didn't. You have to head north to Humboldt county to see the big giants, which have been preserved up there in state parks, like old growth redwood zoos.
The Pygmy Forest, on the other hand, turns out to be a fascinating little ecosystem unique to Mendocino in which 100 year old trees measure only a few feet tall and about 10 centimeters in diameter. This photo doesn't quite do them justice, but you can see the pygmy pine (aka Mendocino pine) on the left, and a normal, fully-developed tree on the right. Something to do with the acidity of the soil in those parts -- I don't know, I'm not an arborist. But I like trees. I'm an arboriafficionado!

An Afternoon in Xanadu

I eschewed Cancún and South Padre Island this year¹ in favor of eating my way around the Bay and being a resident tourist for Spring Break 2007. Yesterday, I went gallery crawling in San Francisco, which I've been meaning to do.

49 Geary houses a ton of different galleries and antiquarian booksellers. I was looking for interesting photographs, which I found. I also found that the cheapest ones were $500, and the most expensive ones were approximately the value of your first born child.


Xanadu Gallery is located at 140 Maiden Lane, which has the distinction of being the only Frank Lloyd Wright Building in San Francisco. The gallery houses mainly Native American and Asian American art, including a Buddhist wall hanging that incorporates the swastika design as a symbol of good fortune (much as the Navajos did). The building itself is a mini-NY MOMA, with a squat spiral staircase and a distinctive arched entryway. Worth visiting.

My last stop of the day, although not technically a gallery, is one of the distinctive art deco sites in San Francisco: the Fog City Diner. Excellent food, although I wish I hadn't mistaken that chunk of wasabi for avocado. Live and learn.

¹ Actually, I think if you use words like "eschew" you may not be allowed into Cancún or South Padre Island during Spring Break.

In and around Morro Bay, California

A few photos from this weekend's jaunt to Morro Bay for Margaret's 30th birthday:

Vineyards near Paso Robles. Castoro Cellars was the standout, though we didn't make it to nearby Bonny Doon, where they make my beloved Big House White and Red.

At Montaña de Oro State Park outside Morro Bay and Cayucos.

Me and the birthday girl on the dunes.

California is so beautiful I miss it already!

Addison carries her own weight around here

Last weekend, Pam and I hiked a beautiful trail in the Emigrant National Wilderness, in Stanislaus National Forest, just north of Yosemite. Yosemite doesn't allow dogs -- well, they do, but they have to stay in the car for the most part, and where's the fun in that? -- so we settled for the next best thing. The day before we left, I relented and joined REI (that's basically tangential to this story), and purchased dog panniers. That's right: saddlebags for the dog. This is how she looked:
I was sure she was going to buck and throw those suckers right off, but she was incredibly stoic about the whole thing, and showed very little discomfort. She was carrying a couple of bottles of water, the first-aid kit and some of our picnic lunch, and we took the panniers off when approaching a mud puddle (because Addison cannot resist mud puddles) or a lake (because I cannot resist lakes). The people we encountered on the trail were evenly divided when they saw Addison and her saddlebags. Half said: "Oh, how cute! She has her own bags!!" Half said: "That's not fair! She's doing all the work!!"
I don't know -- I felt a little guilty about the whole thing, because she was definitely carrying more than we were, but at the same time, she's had this 3-year free ride with me, so isn't it about time she contributed?

Kiss of the Banana Slug

I can't stand looking at that damn fatty tuna anymore, so here's my homage to the banana slug.
The assignment? Pose with the banana slug. The location? Near Muir Woods, 2.3 miles into the Dipsea Trail between Mill Valley and Stinson Beach. The participants? My loyal readership and hiking buddies: PJ, Mrs. Mattsie Garrett, Nickname Forthcoming Kesler and yours truly. Enjoy.