In June, Karl of Extreme Things brought us on a short hike down the rocky shores of Western Malibu. We started at Matador Beach and made our way to Leo Carrillo. There were tidepools, coves, crags, and creatures. After the hike we lounged in the sand, explored the rocky coves, and toyed with some very friendly squirrels.
I have stumbled upon a trend. Every year, my sporadically updated journal seems to hit an extended period of quiet where I am keeping busy, but have no desire to log it. Then I appear seemingly from nowhere and unleash a deluge of updates. Well, kiddies, it’s that time of year again!
After returning from Yosemite, May was relatively quiet. I went on a few fun rock-and-water-focused hikes, learned to make fire various primitive ways, and released the last few Moodoo Moments episodes online. The end of May brought the beginning of two ongoing adventures I’ll post about in future updates: the shooting of Silver Moon (a Western by Travis Stevens) and the medical probing of my esophagus in hopes of curing my lifelong swallowing problems.
June brought 3 weekends of Silver Moon shoots, further esophageal study, and a really cool hike down the rocky shores of Northwestern Malibu beaches. The fourth week of the month was dedicated to socializing with my parents and two nieces while they vacationed here in Los Angeles. Theme Parks, Outdoor Parks, Eateries, Theme Parks, Erika’s birthday, Chloe’s birthday, Dining with Erika’s family, and Theme Parks. It was a busy and fun week.
July began with a camera attached to a long tube exploring my throat quickly followed by a trip to Kernville. Whitewater Rafting and Whitewater Kayaking in one weekend (more on that later). The following weekend brought us to Bell where we helped Erika’s sister sell assorted dishes and desserts as part of a fund-raising event. And so, we arrive at today.
Sport Chalet offers a free introductory SCUBA class once a month. Erika and I checked it out. My one great irrational phobia is suffocation. This leads to claustrophobia at times—something I have had to push through in a few tight mine caves—and great unease when my breathing is obstructed in any manner. I have had difficulty with snorkeling in the past because of the way the goggles cover my nose. I knew this would be a problem today, but I was not going to let it deter me. We were introduced to the basics of SCUBA diving in the shallow end of a diving pool. It took me a bit longer than Erika, but I was able to acclimate myself to the nose-constricting face mask and the odd breathing apparatus. After toying around in the deep end a few times, we signed up for SCUBA lessons. Hopefully, we’ll be certified ocean divers by the end of the summer.
Over the next few days, I’ll post new entries about Silver Moon, Kernville, the Malibu hike, my medical misadventures, and my visiting family.
Erika and I spent April 26-30 in Yosemite National Park. John Muir and many others have raved about the majesty of Yosemite. Their words are not exaggeration. The earth falls open to reveal blankets of rich green sewn with threads of flowing whitewater; flora climbs huge granite sculptures painted with redwood monoliths. Life seeps from its every pore. Mother Nature is reflected in every pool throughout Yosemite. Her voice in every leaf. It is grandiose, splendorous, humbling. To try to capture its beauty in a photograph is an affront. Photos of Yosemite are mere ambassadors—a tease for future visitors. You cannot capture a star in a telescope.
We slept in a primitive camping area in Hodgdon Meadow where temperatures plunged into the lower 30s at night. All campers throughout the park are required to lock away all food in bear-proof lockers or canisters. A fire was a necessity every night. This is no complaint. You can’t commune with nature by locking yourself away in an air-regulated hotel for large portions of the day. Next time I visit, I certainly want to camp in the back-country and attempt some of the many multi-day hikes… to really experience Yosemite. I want to lie on one of its higher peaks and see the stars unobstructed.
Amidst the trees, waterfalls, rapids, and rivers we saw numerous squirrels, chickaree, woodpeckers, chipmunks, and other creatures. Along the road, we dodged two deer and spotted a foraging bear. We hiked a few trails, felt the spray of a few falls, surmounted numerous rocks, and stared in awe at the sights. Yosemite can keep a person busy for a life time. We’ve barely begun to see it.
Our last day was spent rafting 16 miles down the Merced River with Zephyr Whitewater Expeditions. This was Erika’s first rafting experience, my second. I can’t wait for the day I get to raft class 5 and I hope to eventually have the knowledge and skill to traverse whitewater alone in a kayak.
The night before leaving for Yosemite we camped atop the little-known Pine Mountain with Extreme Things. The night was cold and the wind was ceaseless. The stars were the most populous I’ve ever seen.
Karl (of Extreme Things) planned an outing to Palm Springs to snowshoe hike. Yesterday, we rode a rotating tram 8500 feet into the snow-capped mountains to hike five miles through the powder. It always amuses me when we travel into the desert to visit the snow.
Erika and I visited Joshua Tree today. It is a pretty amazing place. I saw a kit fox.
I’m hoping we can go back in April to camp and do some full on rock climbing.
I hiked through Devil’s Canyon last weekend.
I visited his chair earlier this year.
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.
I have often said that once genetic splicing attains maturity I want a prehensile tail and monkey-hand-feet grafted to my DNA. I like to climb things. It’s one of my favorite hobbies. Thus, the Extreme Things rock-hop through Malibu Creek State Park was an event I eagerly anticipated.
We headed into the park, leapt a fence, and hopped our way across huge boulders and streams. Karl’s description read: “Surrounded by picturesque hills, forests, and sheer rocky cliffs, our route will follow a canyon stream in the heart of Malibu Creek State Park, accessing areas that are almost never frequented by hikers. This off-trail adventure will include rock hopping, scrambling on all fours (relying on both legs and arms for support), and traversing over low angled rock face above 10-feet deep water (no current).” His description was accurate and encompasses how we spent a few hours. During the rock-face traverse, I lost my grip and fell into the water, as did a few others. It felt great. At the end of the trek, we were welcomed by a enclosed pond where we will return in July for the annual “pool” party. There was one unforeseen ocurrence unfortunately. During a staggered scramble down a steep slope, a loose rock bashed open the finger of a guest. She was a hell of a trooper. Karl bandaged her finger and she continued on with nary a complaint. Later she would need stitches and discover her finger was broken. Despite this, she is recommending the club to others because she had such a great time. Climbing rocks is so fun, even a bashed up finger won’t stop some people.
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.
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.
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.