Catch-up Part 3 (of 5): Rustic Canyon

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I’ve been relatively silent for the last couple of months.
Thus, it’s time to play catch-up.
Here is what has been going on between April and the present.

In early May, Extreme Things decided to slow things down a bit and hike down into Rustic Canyon. This isn’t to say we had no fun or we took it easy. There were still plenty of steep inclines and off-trail hiking. The end of our descent brought us upon the ruins of Murphy Ranch, a defunct Nazi-sympathizer camp. We explored the ruins and ate lunch in an abandoned house with a large dented water tower (Danger Dan was the only one brave enough to climb it). We then slid into the woods and followed the river, leaving the decay of American Nazis buried behind us.

More Photos Here

Catch-up Part 2 (of 5): Camp Nowhere

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I’ve been relatively silent for the last couple of months.
Thus, it’s time to play catch-up.
Here is what has been going on between April and the present.

After being beaten by the unrelenting Strawberry Peak, I accompanied Extreme Things for an overnight backpacking excursion into the Sheep Mountain Wilderness. I had a newly purchased Camelbak, four quarts of water, ample foodstuffs, water shoes, a light tent, and everything else Erika and I would need. This time I would be prepared. Unfortunately, neither Erika or me were well-versed in the multitudes of backpacking sleeping bags. While everyone else could compress their sleeping bags down to the size of a football, we lugged oversized cottony Swiss-cake rolls six miles into the wilderness (as you’ll see in the photos). The learning never ends.

The hike brought us back down the path to the Bridge to Nowhere. We continued past it heading deeper into the mountains. By nightfall, our group of over a dozen squeezed multiple tents into a small area overlooking the mild rapids of the river. I quickly regretted my decision to leave behind a jacket as temperatures plummeted with the setting sun. My regrets paled in comparison to Karl’s after his drunken stumble into the ice-cold river after midnight. We had a great time joking around and dining on mediocre camp food while admiring two of our group cooking carne asada, rice, and later, eggs. I am awaiting the debut of his outdoors cooking program any day now.

The next morning we all hiked six miles back to our cars. Our hike was probably considerably more enjoyable than the man we met earlier who had gashed open his knee after slipping on a rock. My highlight was an uncomfortable deposit beneath some bushes along the river’s edge.

Egads! More Adventure Awaits!

Catch-up Part 1 (of 5): Strawberry Peak

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I’ve been relatively silent for the last couple of months.
Thus, it’s time to play catch-up.
Here is what has been going on between April and the present.

Strawberry Peak broke me like a little bitch. Back in mid-April, I went with Extreme Things on a hike to Strawberry Peak. Karl’s description began, “Flowing canyon stream, waterfalls, panoramic views of the surrounding mountains, serious rock scrambling, and a stunning peak climb…” These are all things I like. Rock scrambling ranks up top among my favorite pass-times. His description continued, “Although the distance to the Peak is only 3 miles, it is hard-fought with 2,860 feet of elevation gain including the infamous last mile which, in several places requires rock scrambling (using hands and feet to move up the mountain) and non-technical rock climbing. At long last, our efforts will be rewarded with stunning views all the way to the horizon from this Strawberry Peak…” Sounds good. Sign me up. I did.

I have never been good with intense heat. I dehydrate easily (I think it got worse after taking Accutane as a teen). I grew up in Louisiana where a max “elevation gain” would have measured in the dozens instead of the thousands. I hike up mountains fairly frequently, but I’m still not completely accustomed to the air pressure difference. April 13th arrived. 98 degrees Fahrenheit. I made the mistake of taking ONE liter of water. I also made the mistake of not wearing an ankle brace despite repeatedly twisting my ankle over the prior weekends. I was under the false assumption it had healed completely. Most of the hike was uphill in the Sun. The river receded quickly behind us. I was out of water a third of the way in (2 miles). Four more miles to go. I started out strong, but fell to pieces long before the halfway point. Luckily, some others in the group shared water with me. By the time we reached the rock scrambling near the top (my favorite part), I was too exhausted to enjoy it. On the way back, I took a tumble and twisted my ankle hard. I was suffering from heat exhaustion and limping, but I made it to the end.

It took a few days for my body to recuperate. Shortly thereafter, I bought a Camelbak with a three liter hydration pack. Now I always bring twice the water I expect to need.

The nice thing about Extreme Things is the events often teach me and others that we are capable of more than we may anticipate. It also humbles us when we get arrogant and under estimate the power of nature.

Watch me deteriorate before your eyes in more photos!

Pater Familias

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Today Erika (my girlfriend-age 23) and I took her niece and nephew (ages 9 & 11) swimming at a public pool in Eagle Rock. On our way out, we crossed paths with a jovial drunken man—he assured us he was no longer a homeless man because he now lived in a mansion provided by Section 8. He wished me a happy father’s day as he waved his nearly empty 40oz. He then told me to have a good day and he hoped I’d get everything I wanted. He punctuated this statement, “But you already got everything: your wife and kids.”

I didn’t dare shatter his misconstrued fantasy, but gave him his dap and drove home with “my family”.

Eventful

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Two weeks ago: Paintball
Last weekend: Canyoneering (pictures coming soon, I hope)
Today: Rock hopping—where I fell off a rock face into some refreshing greenish waters

Two weeks from now: White-Water Rafting

It isn’t summer just yet. I hope this keeps up.

Burning Rubber

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A couple of nights back Erika noticed a nasty burning smell wafting through the windows. I walked around the complex for a few minutes looking for the source. Then, I came upon this tiny Asian couple standing at the gate staring through its bars. The woman was talking on the phone in broken English. Parked directly outside the building in front of a tree was their car—hood ablaze. Apparently, it had overheated and caught on fire after they parked it. Next to the man’s feet was a bucket of water. He had done the last thing he should have—thrown water on it. A blanket or a fire extinguisher would have worked wonders and possibly saved their car, but not water. A loud hiss exited the hood, startling me, as the fire grew larger. It was probably the radiator. I was starting to get worried the blaze would jump to the tree or the car parked in front of it. I walked down the hall contemplating whether I should bust the glass to one of the extinguishers when I heard sirens. The firefighters had the fire out within moments. The front of the car was a melted, black mess.

Everything in California seems to catch on fire.