Tag Archives: outdoors

Catch-up Part 5 (of 5): Malibu Creek Rock Hop

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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.

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.

More Hops and Scrambles Here

Catch-up Part 4 (of 5): Canyoneering

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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.

I had been looking forward to May 31st for a long time. Canyoneering (also called Canyoning) is a sport involving technical descents into canyons. Karl, of Extreme Things organized an introduction to the sport for a few of us to try. In our case, Canyoneering would mean rappelling down waterfalls ranging in height from 15 feet to 90 feet.

We met our guides that Saturday morning and headed towards Mount Baldy. For the next six or so hours, we would make our way down 6 waterfalls, each with its own personality. Rappelling is an exciting sport for a variety of reasons. You must fight some of your natural survival instincts. Each descent begins with a backwards walk over the edge of a cliffside. You stand at roughly 90 degrees pushing yourself away from the mountainside. Your only support is a rope sliding between your hands and safety gear. Your body naturally wants to collapse and pull itself towards the cliffside. You have to fight that urge, otherwise your descent will be highly uncomfortable and difficult.

The views were beautiful. The rappels were exciting, often frightening. The water was ice-cold. Our third descent brought us beneath a torrent of frigid falling water. It was exhilarating, disorienting, cold, and scary. It was a triumph, the sort of activity that teaches you about yourself and boosts your confidence. Erika had difficulty with the first two rappels. This one was the most treacherous—90 feet through an ice-cold waterfall. She was scared, reluctant. After conquering it, her morale soared and she started to really enjoy herself. Three more falls to go, a dropping Sun, and dropping temperatures. We were all looking forward to them.

We would end the day cold and drenched.
I can’t wait to do it again.

See More Here

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!

Bridge to Nowhere

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Saturday, a hike I have been anticipating for months finally came to fruition — The Bridge to Nowhere. In the 1930s a bridge was built in the wilderness north of Azusa intending to connect two under-construction roads. A flood washed them out and now decades later we have a bridge in the middle of nowhere (or the Sheep Mountain Wilderness if you prefer) people like to leap off attached by a bungee. A dozen of us set out under the leadership of Karl, head of Extreme Things. Before us was a 9-10 mile round-trip hike with multiple river crossings and some rock-scrambling. There was also a wild-card, a poodle named Max would be coming along. He would become a small furry ballast for some river crossers.

The hike was great. We crossed the river roughly ten times and I never grew tired of it despite its frigid and often turgid waters. Its depth ranged from shin to waist deep. I would love to return, hike to the bridge, then kayak back. At one point we were greeted with the option to cross via an overturned tree acting as a small bridge. Miles away was the actual bridge where we stopped for lunch and some exploring. It rises dozens of feet above the river. For a fee a Bungee group will let you leap off, bounce a few times, then reel you back in. In the future, I may give it a try.

The hike took us about three hours longer than anticipated, but it was time well spent. I’ll gladly return multiple times in the future. Patrick even made it back in time to meet his date.

See More Here, Sucka!

Cancun Part 5: Snorkeling

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On our last full day in Cancun, we went snorkeling. It was part of the Aquaworld Jungle Tour. At the marina, we mounted small two-man motorboats resembling rectangular jet-skis. Our caravan sped across a large lagoon through a watery jungle and into the Carribbean where be braked at a reef. Here we dove into the waters and swam about for a while.

More Snorkely Goodness

Cancun Part 4: Coba

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The weather reports were promising us rainy overcast days with occasional thunderstorms the entire week we would be in Cancun. We arrived to beautiful blue skies spotted with fluffy cumulus clouds. There would be only one muggy day with occasional rain—my birthday. A thunderstorm rolled in the night before and I was fearful that our Coba tour would be canceled. This was the tour I was most looking forward to. It promised the most fun (jungle hiking, kayaking, rappeling, zip-lines, and more) and it would be how my 30th birthday would primarily be spent. In the end, it all worked out for the best. This would be the only day it rained on our trip and it interfered with nothing. Had it rained a different day, our plans would have likely been altered. Thus, the fates chose well.

We rode through the back-roads of the Yucatan at top speeds heading for the jungle. There we paddled through a small lagoon and rendezvoused at a dock entering the jungle. We trekked to a subterranean cenote and swam after participating in a Mayan purification ritual. I had great hopes of seeing spider monkeys in the jungle, but luck was not with me. I didn’t give up hope, although. A quick drive to a nearby village brought us to our action portion of the trip. There we all rappeled into a canyon, then rode a zip-line across the jungle. Afterwards the villagers fed us a variety of local dishes. The last stop would be Coba.

Coba is another site featuring various Mayan ruins. The main attraction is a 60-foot high structure a few kilometers into the jungle. Climbing 120 or so steps brings you to the top with a spectacular view of the surrounding jungle—trees for miles in all directions. The day had been muggy, but there had been no rain after the storm of the previous night. That would change once Erika and I reached the halfway point approaching Coba’s apex. Droplets began to fall, within seconds a drenching rain was upon us. The options were turn back and be soaked or climb to the top and be soaked. We chose the latter. Minutes later she and I stood at the top staring into a misty jungle, water pouring down upon us. A few other climbers cowered in a tiny cubby at the top of the ruin awaiting a break in the rain. This is the best way to see Coba.

As we walked back through the jungle to the van, we were happy and saturated. Living in L.A. means constant dryness with tiny glimmers of rare sprinkles. Erika was ecstatic. She was soaking wet, walking through the jungle, dodging puddles, and surprisingly warm. Then I saw him. Scurrying across the path a few feet ahead was a dark spider monkey, his tail raised behind him. He bolted into the brush avoiding what remained of the falling rain and any potential danger from trail-walkers. By the time Erika turned to see him, he was gone. We were nearing the end of the jungle, the end of the tour. My chances to see a monkey were almost gone, but I hadn’t given up hope. No one else was around. I alone saw him. He was there for me—my birthday monkey.

See More Coba Photos Here