Halfer

Halfer not heifer! An easy mistake though.
I wish I had the aspirations that my friends have but I'm happy to be a tag-along. Just 3 months after tackling Mt. Whitney I ran/walked my 1st half marathon. My friend had completed one earlier this year and felt like she could improve her time so she wanted to do another and heard of the thirteen.one miler on the most beautiful coastline in California on the Monterey Bay Peninsula. I have spent lots of time on the central coast, specifically Big Sur, but we'd only ever driven through Monterey. The race was the Sunday before Thanksgiving so I decided to turn it into a vacation.

The Big Sur International Marathon has been in operation for 10 years and is a top-notch event attracting participants from all over the world. As it was my first event I don't have anything to compare it to but I was thoroughly impressed with the professionalism and organization supporting over 9000 runners. The course route starts at the famous Old Fisherman's Wharf following the harbor and landmarks like Cannery Row and the Presidio, turning around at the mouth of the 17 mile drive and ending at the finish line in quaint downtown Monterey.  Runners are placed in corrals based on their projected finish time. The race began at 7am so we had to be in our corral by 6:30 which meant for an early (and chilly) wake-up call. Northwest storms had been dousing the area all week and rain was expected on race day. Although we've never trained in the the rain we were prepared for the worst. As we pigged out on donuts (I never eat donuts but we were carbing) we noticed that the street outside was wet but not raining. Once the sun came up it was evident that the storm had passed over and we may get a break. As it turns out the entire day was gorgeous. I even got a little sunburn.

There is a ubiquitous military presence in Monterey and BSIM did a great job of recruiting them as volunteers throughout the race route. It was a proud moment for me to hear these fearless defenders of our freedom cheering on our efforts. The streets were lined with supporters and cheerleaders with lots of cheeky signs like this one :)







With all the storm activity the ocean was completely unbridled churning up 10 foot waves. What a sight to behold. And there were crazy people surfing in it! Cypress trees lining the coast and whitecaps charging toward the shore like racehorses beneath a clear blue sky made the whole experience unforgettable. Fragrances of eucalyptus and salty sea air definitely kept us going. We are run-walkers. It is not on my radar to run anywhere unless a zombie is chasing me. At home we manage 3.8 miles in about 50 minutes. You typically peter out a little as your hips began to stiffen so we ran farther than usual right out of the gate and made up quite a lot of ground. Although our timing was stellar at each marker we had set for ourselves, the frontrunner was approaching the finish line as we were passing the 4 mile turn! The winner ultimately completed the half in 1:11. The athleticism and determination is enviable (incentivized by the prize money I'm sure). We finished in 3 hours and fifteen minutes -
# 6467 out of 9047 runners.

Padding over many of the famous places he wrote about, it felt a little like we were rehearsing for characters in a Steinbeck novel.
The route is breathtaking and not at all challenging. In fact the scenery, the weather, the participants, and especially the GU (a gooey energy boost) were all invigorating. I had spent the year hiking mountains so this was a lovely way to end the year. Knowing that my epsom's salt bath and a massage awaited made the finish even sweeter. One more box ticked.

During one of our training days in LA I learned that there is a triathlon event in Hermosa Beach. Next up on the agenda, since I'm clearly goal oriented, is the "Day at the Beach Tri" including a 1/4 mile ocean swim, 10 mile bike and 3 mile run. Totally doable with a little guts and gumption. I have never been athletic a day in my life. I'm just a woman who loves life and a challenge. Above all I love the beauty all around us and I can't get enough of it.

November

David Mamet is a brilliant penman with an impeccable brand of humanity and hilarity. The Mark Taper Forum and LA's Center Theater Group is one of my favorite venues to engage in theater. I say engage because it is an intimate space where you literally feel as though you are part of the performance.

This production is so timely as we are squarely in the throngs of election season. In November Charlie Smith, played by Ed Bagley Jr., is the President of the United States just a few days before he hopes to be re-elected for a second term. His chief of staff is telling him he hasn't a hope in hell of winning and might as well concede the election before voting has even began. A desperate Smith implores is lesbian speech writer, Felicity Huffman, to write the speech of all speeches that will guarantee him the election in exchange for is support of gay marriage, a position counter to his party's. As he's simultaneously pandering for money from Indian tribes a traditional part of the presidential duty is to pardon the Thanksgiving turkey.

Chaos and comedy rule the day in this politically incorrect tale.

"Cankles"

22 miles, 17 hours, 2 friends, 1 big ass mountain!

Months of planning, training and anticipating could not prepare us for the actuality of the climb up to Mount Whitney peak. It wasn't that we weren't conditioned or even that the trek requires bona fide mountaineering. Nope, it didn't take any special skill set just unmitigated will and determination. Our permit was for Sunday August 19th beginning at 12am. So we decidedly went up to altitude to acclimate for a couple of days. We arrived to retrieve our permit from the visitor's center in Lone Pine at noonish on Friday and had a lengthy chat with the ranger. I had secured permits for both overnight and a one day excursion thinking that if we felt unready we could just camp out mountain-side with our gear at the half way point. It doesn't work that way. They made us choose and told us to be prepared to see bears. We camped out both Friday and Saturday nights with not so much as a glint of yogi. We did some exploring and met lots of interesting people and heard terrific tales of their own explorations.

The Sierra Nevada range is vast and rugged and stunning. There is such a variety of eco-systems; from lush, dense forests to barren, granite shears. Mount Whitney is on the eastern side of the range surrounded by other noteworthy high peaks. We figured it would take the better part of the 24 hour period of our permit so we wanted to get out early. I didn't sleep at all Saturday night and very little on Friday but we set the clock for 12am. Although we had packed up the night before it took a while to get it together enough to get going. We departed the trailhead at 1am. It was a beautiful clear and starry sky with just a sliver of moon glowing. I like to hike in a dress and my pack, already 16-17 lbs, was heavy with water, food, gear and extra clothing so I layered up anticipating it getting cooler the higher we climbed. It was the middle of the night after all and we were at 8300' but of course climbing a steep mountain in base layer clothing gets you sweaty. We're old so we had to take a few rests along the way but surprisingly we made terrific time to the half way point at Trail Camp. It was before dawn, about 5am, 12'200 feet, freezing and windy. I was completely exhausted, layered up in in every piece of clothing I had and pondering what the hell I was doing and why. I tend to lose my appetite when hiking (which I've learned is fairly common) but I knew I had to get some energy. It took me about an hour to choke down an energy bar while I paced around trying to get warm. I wanted to quit so bad but knew I had to rally. So off we went. The 97 switchbacks start from Trail Camp and end at Trail Crest which is the top of the ridgeline that leads to the Whitney summit to the east and the John Muir trail to the west.

Passing through the "windows" - narrow footpaths opening to shear, expansive vistas on either side - is not for the fainthearted. The trails are very well maintained and well-traveled but often rocky and loose and some rather narrow. If you can keep your stomach down it is spectacularly breathtaking to stand in the middle of a window and do a 360 degree turn and take it all in. From Trail Crest it is another 3 miles to the summit and a good 3 hours scrambling over both boulders and loose rocks. There's not a lot of altitude gain on the ridge but most of it is around 14,000 feet taxing your oxygen intake. It is completely exposed to the elements and highly recommended that you depart the summit by noon to avoid inclement weather that often rolls through in the afternoons. I was very concerned about this as we could see clouds gathering in the distance and had heard stories of climbers the day before getting caught in a hail storm. Onward we plodded making our way nearer and nearer the summit uplifted by those already descending offering words of encouragement. You can see the top about a 1/4 mile before you reach it which for me was torturous because it looked closer than it was. But once there it was nothing short of miraculous. Not only do you feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and self-pride but you can sit down for a few minutes, catch your breath and rest your weary bones. We lingered on the summit for about a half an hour before we started ambling our way back down.

It took us 10 hours to reach the summit. We didn't have any idea how long it would take to get down but we had budgeted 18 hours round trip. That said I expected a significant reduction on the descent including accounting for the fact that we'd been walking all night. I was anxious to get entirely off the ridge before any signs of thunderstorms appeared and to return to camp before dark as our headlamps were diminishing in strength. We did get a few drops of rain but nothing serious. Coming down was like a whole new experience altogether. You see things from a completely different perspective and since we'd hiked half of it in the dark we were awestruck all over again. Above the tree line the mountain resembles how I imagine the surface of the moon to look. And although we'd heard them in the dark on the way up, we got to see the numerous waterfalls along with beautiful lakes and meadows.

We had done enough training that I knew descending had it's own challenges but I was not prepared for the brutal pounding that my poor feet took. The last mile or two I wished I could have lopped off my legs at the ankles and rolled the rest of the way down. I had hiking poles and quite seriously needed them as additional legs to take the weight off my crushed toes. It was days before the swelling in my feet and ankles went down and weeks later I still had bruises on my pinkie toes. Not long thereafter my toenails started dropping off. I only have six little bonnets on my ten little piggies. As challenging and tiring as it was, and for as much grumbling as I did mountainside, I feel like I could do it again. And may. You see, I've learned some things... the first being that I would take a bottle of champagne and eliminate much of the other weight in my pack to make room for it! With endless gratitude I thank not only my extraordinary friend, hiking partner, cheerleader, entertainer and photographer (JN), but also the many many volunteers we saw. Hanging from the sides of cliffs using sledgehammers and pics they work like machines carving out safer routes for the thousands of adventurers that enjoy the wilderness on a daily basis. Mount Whitney is simply majestic and I'm so thankful that I was able to enjoy her beauty and awe! Additionally, I am in awe of the nearly $3000 that friends and family donated on my behalf to the International Medical Corps so they can carry out critical work in the human world equitable in majesty and beauty to the natural world.

Diary of A Mad (Hiker) WoMan

My friend decided that he wanted to climb Mt. Whitney in honor of his half century of life on this beautiful earth and asked if I wanted to join. Without much thought I beamed "Yes!". Little did I know what painstaking effort it would take to prepare for such a feat. You see, Mount Whitney is the tallest mountain peak in the US outside of Alaska. Its jagged peaks rest at 14, 504 feet above sea level in the Sierra Nevada mountain range in central California. From the trail head at Whitney Portal, elevation 8300', it is 11 miles to the summit and a 6200' gain in elevation. The altitude makes this a very challenging adventure. And once you get to the top you have to get back down  - a task equally if not even more difficult than the ascent as your feet and knees take a pummeling.

Southern California is home to myriad hiking trails, many of them at substantial altitude. In addition to the daily training I do at the Baldwin Hills Overlook, we've gone out most weekends to various trails to strengthen our ankles and build endurance. Over the years we've done lots of hikes just for fun but we knew we needed to ramp up if we were going to be successful on Mt Whitney. In April we started choosing serious trails both for distance and elevation. Our 1st big hike in April was to the San Gabriel Mountains just east of LA. We opted for the Winter Creek trail in the Big Santa Anita Canyon. Although the trail peaks at Mt Wilson we looped up to Mt Zion instead. It is by far my favorite of all the hikes so far - woodsy and shaded most of the way. It was a beautiful and recreational day as we clocked about 12 miles and a couple thousand feet in elevation gain, including a detour to the Sturtevant Falls.

In order to gauge how we would fare on Whitney we needed to get some serious climbs underway. The 3 highest summits in Southern California are San Antonio a.k.a Mt Baldy (10,064'), San Jacinto (10, 874') and San Gorgonio (11,503'). On Cinco de Mayo (May 5th for all you gringos out there) we drove up to the eastern San Gabriels to tackle Baldy. It was a gorgeous, crisp morning but we got a bit of a late start. Most mountain trailheads are a couple of hours drive outside of Los Angeles so even if we leave at 6 am it's late by the time we get there, stretch out and commence. Leaving the trailhead at 9am we didn't have a clue what was in store for us other than it is a 4000' elevation gain and a 11 mile round trip. Mt Baldy is a ski resort in winter so as you can imagine a few of the climbs we made were on super steep ski runs. We were on the Devil's Backbone trail and a devil it was. The views were spectacular especially on the saddle which is only a few feet wide with sheer vertical drop offs on either side and views of So Cal all around. Definitely harrowing as we struggled with gravity and climbed ever higher to the summit, aptly named for the lack of trees. And then we basically skied down in our hiking boots until we found the trail again. It took 5 hours to summit and 3 hours to get back down.
Our little mountain walk Up Whitney this summer is 22 miles round trip so it's important to test our distance endurance. After battling hellacious Mt Baldy we decided that distance without elevation gains was in order so off we set for the Sespe Creek trail in beautiful Los Padres National Forest. Situated near Ojai, up and up we wound the mountain road (in the car) to an elevation of approximately 4000 ' to the Sespe Wilderness. Our goal point was the Sespe Hot Springs - 19 miles round trip. It was a glorious late spring morning and the wilderness was brimming with wild flowers and good water flow in the creek. This is a gorgeous area and the trail is fantastic. I better qualify... fantastic if it isn't 87 degrees. Wow can that heat zap your energy! I had very important plans back in LA that night so I needed to get an early start. As it were the drive up there was a little farther than anticipated so we didn't get on the trail until about 9 - much too late when such a hot day is looming. In the end we didn't make it to the hot springs due to time constraints but we did manage about 14 miles round trip. This is definitely a trail I would like to return to - much earlier in the spring - and actually make it to the natural hot tubs. We talked with a guy who had been up there just 4 weeks earlier and he said there was still snow on the trail.

Inching ever higher to our goal of 14,500 feet we practically sprinted up San Jacinto in mid-June. There are numerous ways to access the summit but Jack and I opted for the Palm Springs tram to jet us up to 8000' in 10 minutes via a gondola hugging the rocky mountainside. You would think that the mountains would be cooler, especially at elevation but they jut up above the brutal desert floor and can get quite warm. Climbing through Idylwild was risky on this front so we cheated a bit by taking the Palm Springs Tram but the hike was still about a 2500' elevation gain and 10 miles. This was a beautiful and not too difficult trail. Again, 360 degree views of all of So Cal that will take your breath away. Making your way to the summit in the last 1/4 mile is a scramble over boulders all the while fighting the crowds for the best place to wedge in to capture your summit photo. It was an insanely windy day so there was no lingering, not that there's room anyway as it's really just a rock. Luckily my pack was quite heavy that day which I'm certain prevented me from blowing off the mountain.

Hiking days are very long and tiresome under the beating sun and bashing wind. I expect that Whitney will take us about 10-12 hours to summit and 8-10 hours to descend. Although it is not a marathon our permit is only good for 24 hours so I needed a gauge on what our time and mileage abilities are. Next up San G, the highest mountain top in Southern California. Permits are required in the San Bernardino National Forest and since the Vivian Creek trail is a popular training hike for Mt Whitney they limit the number of hikers on any given day. The trail is 9.3 miles to the peak and over a vertical mile in elevation gain (5,423'). Covering 18.6 miles round trip it took us 7.5 hours to ascend and 4.5 hours to amble back down. This was an ass-kicker. Thank goodness it wasn't overly hot. Luckily we even experienced intermittent cloud cover and sprinkles of rain otherwise this would have been an unbearable day. Overall, I found it easier than Mt Baldy but the added hours really push your limits.



You can see more pics of some of my favorite hiking spots and inspirational Mt Whitney on my pinterest board.

Spa-aaahh!

I love Olympic Spa. It's been a few years since I've been there and after today's "pure bliss" experience I don't know what took me so long to return. Pure Bliss is the name of the treatment which consists of a thorough body scouring, followed by a polishing scrub and warm water rinse, super slippery full body massage including scalp, finished by a soothing facial. I recommend spending a few minutes in the mugwort tea bath which is kept at a temperature unbearable fore more than 3-5 minutes and calm your burnt skin by dunking into the cold bath for an equal length of time. Steam and sauna for 10 minutes each are enough prep for the next hour and a half of the bliss that is sure to engulf you. If your gelatinous legs will carry you to the oxygen room for 2 minutes afterward do it before a little spot of tea and a nap on the heated floor. Treat yourself to an amazing Korean lunch and relax the rest of the day. Repeat. Sooner than every few years.

Old Baldy

As part of our prep for the Mount Whitney hike later this year, my friend and I have been making our way around the local mountains. Luckily we have lots of training ground within a couple hours driving. Today we climbed Mt. San Antonio a.k.a. "Mount Baldy", the highest peak in the San Gabriel Mountains measuring 10,064' and the 3rd highest peak in Southern California. It was killer but we did it and lived to tell about it. The ascent was over 4000 feet and we ticked off 10.5 miles round trip.

Mount Baldy is a popular skiing area and the chair lift runs all year long (for those who want to cheat). We started hiking at about 6000' and followed a pretty easy path up to 7800'. From there, it was a crawling incline through extremely steep and loose shale straight up to 8600'. It was tough but when I saw the war vet who'd lost both his legs in combat scaling that terrain with braces on his arms and prosthetic legs there was no way I going to complain. He was in training for the 7 continental highest peaks in the world, already surmounting 4 of them and leaving for Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, Africa in 6 weeks. Some people are so inspiring.

The next few miles over 1400 feet of elevation gain was equally and intermittently easy and strenuous. The air is much thinner at 10,000 feet making it a little more challenging. We were on a trail aptly named "devil's backbone" where in spots the trail is so narrow with vertical drop-offs on either side. It was a little harrowing given your center of gravity when the wind decides to kick up. This is a popular hike and two way traffic is common on a single file path with nary a crevice to slouch into at times. I was a bit unnerved at one point when I had to hug a bolder and shimmy around it to keep from toppling over the edge. The last mile to the summit was the most grueling of the entire ascent plodding our way up the steep and relentless switchbacks having to stop very often to muster the strength to put one foot in front of the other. Appearing like the surface of the moon and nicknamed for the absence of trees, Old Baldy's head was a welcomed sight. Incredible 360 degree views of So Cal with the other 2 highest peaks, San Gorgonio and San Jacinto, in snow-crested view made our efforts that much more rewarding.

After a lunch break and a picture we started our descent knowing it was downhill from here and expecting it to be easy breezy beautiful. My friend had experienced a mild panic attack when terra firma on either side was lacking and he refused to return the same way. So we took the other way where there wasn't exactly a clearly marked trail. In no time we were totally off the trail and literally skiing down the steep, slippery, rocky side of the mountain. Thank goodness we saw some other hikers and made our way toward them and the path they were on. However, the path was never very distinct - it was loose, steep and positively hazardous. I can say with certainty it was more difficult coming down than it was going up. Bye bye Baldy my old friend, never to see you again.

After all that I am so proud of our accomplishment and pleased with the gauge it provided on our abilities moving forward toward the big kahuna. Next up, San Jac. at 10,800'.

(props to my thoughtful photographer and hiking partner extraordinaire, J. Nitowitz)

Making Progress

deck in progress

I've had a final permit on our remodeled master bedroom/bathroom for a year now but we were (and still are) far from finished with our project. We need hardscape and landscape in both front and back yards and we can't agree on, well, anything. We have to build a deck off the back of the house and choosing the building material was no easy decision. I wanted wood, Damon wanted composite since he thinks he's the one that has to do the annual maintenance. I want drought resistant native California plants, he wants grass. Etc., etc., etc. To compound matters Damon returned to work (hallelujah) with a vengeance working 60 hours/week since the beginning of the year and has no time to work on the yard. With another summer fast approaching we decided to hire someone to build the deck so we can finally complete the work and entertain and cook out again. Here are a few photos of our master suite and the first stages of the deck.  More to come as we fill in the blanks.

bedroom (still need to build a bed)

bathroom vanity area

London - the other one

In Canada there is a medium-sized town smack in the middle between Detroit, Michigan and Toronto, Ontario called London. I consider it my hometown since all of my family are Londoners and I spent much of my formative years growing up there. London claims fame for things like the prestigious University of Western Ontario (UWO), Labatt's Brewing Company, and Kellogg's. Growing up I always thought it was a good place to raise kids or retire - in other words boring. But now that I'm older and visit every year I realize that there is quite a lot to do in the beautifully nicknamed "Forest City".

If it were just me visiting I'd probably lay on my Mother's couch for a week but since I bring my beau occasionally I need to find something that entertains him. Our last trip together was at Christmas so our activities were winter-centric but there's lots to do year-round. London is a pretty diverse community and being a University town there is opportunity for an eclectic array of recreation. Mostly urban sprawl complete with obnoxious traffic the contrasting downtown area is walkable and vibrant - a welcomed respite dotted with great restaurants, cool pubs and quaint coffee bars. Victoria Park is really the nucleus of the city and host to many events and festivals all year long. During Christmas all the trees are lighted and themed statues like the nativity scene and Santa Claus mark the pathways surrounding the ice skating rink. It's novel to lace up your skates and whirl around the pockmarked rink a few times and warm up afterward with some hot chocolate. We got into the Christmas spirit one night as we crunched along the snowy path after a family dinner at landmark Joe Kool's just across the street from the park. Midnight mass on Christmas Eve at St. Paul's Cathedral is another way to celebrate the holiday AND warm up.


The Thames river winds through town and forks downtown behind the Old Courthouse where I'm told they used to conduct public hangings. It is a beautiful old building modeled after a castle in Dublin, Ireland and today is a lovely wedding venue. We spent an afternoon across the street at the art museum. I was taken aback by this space and the works on exhibit. I've visited museums around the world and this one really holds its own. They have an amazing collection of artifacts from original native settlers of the area, primarily Iroquois and Chippewa tribes, and galleries large and small covering avant guard modern art and photography to modeling and textiles. Very impressive for such a conservative town. Sidebar: watch out for the goose poop - they hang out on the museum lawn and make quite a mess. A short walk up the river leads you to Eldon House, the oldest residence in the city. It is full of family heirlooms and surrounded by lush gardens. Docent led tours are available.

Of course I usually stay with family when I'm in town but if I needed a hotel I would choose the
Hotel Metro. It's a modern boutique hotel downtown in the thick of all the excitement. London was a military center for the Royal Canadian Regiment during the two world wars evidenced by the Armouries (now a hotel) and Wosley Barracks (now a museum), not to mention all the legion halls. There's plenty of history to explore if you're so inclined so grab a infamous Samy's Soulvaki, home of London's legendary gyro, and trek on.

A really cool thing to do when you're in town is a tour of the Labatt Brewery. The operation is a bustling production amalgamating old traditions with modern technology. I was impressed to learn that there is little to no waste at all during the process. At the end of the cycle a truck pulls up under the spent grains vat and hauls it off to a local farm for re-purposing as vitamins in animal feed or soil additive. The bottles can be recycled and reused over 20 times before they have to be retired. This tour is a sensory circus culminating in a buzz-fest in the tasting room. Afterward a stroll through the historic Covent Garden Market keeps the sensory party going. This is where you'll find your souvenir maple syrup from local sappers along with organic fruit and veggies, grass-fed beef and homebaked breads - all from area farmers and artisans. Be sure to check out the composting worm guy and don't forget to stop in to Gambrinus Bistro pub to refresh and give your dogs a rest. They have an amazing selection of craft brews.

Activities abound depending on the time of year and your interests. From hockey games at the John Labatt Center to live theater productions at the Grand Theater London has something for everyone. In summer it's beautiful to hang out by the river and bike ride through Springbank Park. During winter snow shoeing and cross country skiing is available in the park. Festivals like Rib-fest, the Greek festival and a battalion of outdoor concerts flood the city's parks and open spaces drawing the community out of winter hibernation. The Western Fair, originally a livestock show, is celebrated annually for a week in early September in modern form. The land around London is still mostly agricultural. Incidentally there is a rather large Mennonite population in the vicinity and St. Jacobs is the heart of Mennonite country. Here you'll find farmer's markets, artisan shops and furniture craftsmen and loads of antiquing. If there's a chance to go to an auction during your visit it's highly recommended. Other seasonal activities include trips to the sugar bush to tap maple syrup in spring as well as local strawberry or corn picking is summer and apple picking in the fall.

Situated amongst the Great Lakes, accessing the beach or heading up to cottage country is easy even necessary in the sweltering heat and humidity of mid-summer. Algonquin Park is God's country, especially in fall when all the leaves are turning color. Canoeing and fishing are among the most popular things to do there. London is little more than an hour away from Niagara Falls. The Niagara region has become quite prolific at cultivating grapes for winemaking - primarily ice wine. It's fun to tour the area and stop in to tasting rooms. I learned to "chew" wine at one of the popular vineyards there. I also learned that grapes used in ice wine must be harvested at an exact temperature which can be in the middle of a bitterly frosty night in January. The vintner closely monitors the grapes and calls in the pickers when they're ready. Down river from the falls is Niagara-on-the-Lake, a quaint little town where a major festival takes place - the Shaw Festival (as in George Bernard Shaw). Likewise, an hour from London in a different direction lies another festival town, Stratford - the home of the Shakespeare Festival (as in William). A tradition, though, is to drive to Port Stanley for a day at the beach on Lake Erie and grab some fresh-cut, skin-on, super hot french fries from Mackies and gob on the special sauce (I prefer malt vinegar). And then stop at Shaw's ice cream on the way back to London.

Toronto is just a hop, skip from London but as such an amazing town it deserves it's own post. If you ever find yourself in the London area Toronto is a recommended destination that will not disappoint.

Niacin Flush

Recently I had one of those department store beauty counter make-overs. In talking about my general skin condition and noticing that I had a bit of acne the sales girl suggested I try niacin (vitamin B3) to detoxify my skin. She said I may feel a bit flush initially but that I should mark a noticeable difference in my skin within a week. Sounded harmless enough so I thought I'd give it a try. I went to the vitamin shop and saw two types of niacin side by side. Both bottles had the same number of pills of the same strength - one was $4 and the other $20. The more expensive one said anti-flush on the bottle but I didn't think it was worth 5 times the price so I took the cheap one and went home. The only vitamin I take daily is a calcium pill fortified with magnesium and vitamin D so the next day when I took my vitamin I popped the niacin pill as well and left home. Ten minutes later I recall feeling a little warm. I looked at my skin and I was bright red all over! It looked and felt like a severe sunburn. (I have experience with these things since I'm so fair and used to be a sun worshiper.) The process, about an hour passes from start to finish, runs the course of sensations just like a sunburn insomuch that you have burning then the tingly, itchy feeling followed by a little chill.  It's weird; I wouldn't say painful but definitely a little uncomfortable. So I was wishing I'd not been so cheap and got the anti-flush formula. I jumped online to find out wtf? I read up and discovered that the flush is supposed to happen in order for B3 to be effective. What happens is the capillaries under the dermis open wide so as to release impurities and detox your innards. I thought perhaps you'd develop tolerance over time but so far I've done it a dozen times with the same result. I found this video on youtube if you want to check it out. I also put up a picture of myself during the flush. Ignore all the chins and focus on the redness of my skin. Incidentally, my skin does seem to be improving. I still get a pimple here and there but it goes away faster when I flush. My pores are smaller too but I can't say for sure it is the niacin since I've been making my own moisturizer for some months now which consists of vitamin A (lanolin), vitamin E, aloe vera and rose water. It's cheaper and better than all that expensive crap with ingredients you can't read.

The Climb

I HAVE A PERMIT!

A friend convinced me to climb Mount Whitney this coming summer. I am so excited about this adventure on so many levels and I've already begun conditioning. Mt Whitney is the highest peak in the lower 48 states. It is an 11 mile ascent (22 miles round trip) with over 6000' of altitude gain. Yikes! Our climb is on August 8th so we have 4 months to ramp up the training schedule in preparation.

Located in the Sierra Nevada mountain range in Eastern/Central California Mount Whitney's summit is 14,500. It is a well-traveled and maintained trail but conditions are highly dependent on the weather - not only on the day of the ascent but all season long. I have a friends who did it in mid-July last year after an extraordinary year of precipitation and snowfall and required crampons at higher elevations. That is not the kind of experience I'm interested in or expect to have. Nevertheless it is a grueling day. My friend left the base area called Whitney portal at 2 am and returned at 8pm. Eighteen hours! There are 99 switchbacks in all that traverse the side of the mountain. I think I'll sing 99 bottles of beer on the wall to count them down.

We won!

Every 10 years the US Census Bureau polls and enumerates the population to determine congressional districts and allocate funds for program funding. At the municipal level Los Angeles uses the data collected to redraw the councilmanic lines in a process called Redistricting. There are specific laws that must be followed in the process and a commission of 15 members was appointed (not elected by voters) by the mayor and the LA City Council. The theory "one person, one vote" is the mandate and the districts aim to be egalitarian in number and demographic. To that end, communities of interest and geographic contiguity are expected to be considered and protected. Granted, the job of the commission was extraordinary and they had a daunting task ahead of them to accommodate over 4 million constituents and divvy up the city as equally as possible without pissing anyone off. Impossible!

As part of the process the public is encouraged to submit maps and participate in public hearings in order to have their opinions and discourse part of the public record. The commission then submits the final draft map to be approved by a Rules Committee - a team of 5 City Council members - before the final vote goes before the full council. I haven't been involved in the process before now but this time the public turned out by the hundreds as their districts were carved up and eviscerated. Since the commission's work was lacking in transparency and there was seemingly no rhyme nor reason to the final outcome the only obvious conclusion was that political gerrymandering and backroom dealing was at play. Some even accuse of racism given the way some districts were shaken down.

After weeks and months of hearings and meetings, letters and phone calls the council amended most of the districts under contention and restored our little enclave in Westchester to its rightful home with the rest of our neighborhood and councilmanic district. That said there are many constituents throughout the city who are furious and with just cause. During the final hearing one of the commissioners came forward and admitted that indeed racism was a key factor during the process and promised that lawsuits will be filed. But to put it all in perspective let's bear in mind that politicians are a priori in their thinking. That is to say that they think of the city not in cohesion but in terms of voting blocks with the hope of saving their ass and/or advancing their own political aspirations. This time negotiations worked to the benefit of many but stiffed the powerless few because no matter how impartial the law intends to make it politics (and those who play that game) is corrupt.

Desert Paradis

Here we go again... another trip to Palm Springs.

One of Damon's friends from high school is an artist living on the East coast and planned to show in the annual art exhibit during Modernism Week. It so happened that his mother was celebrating a milestone birthday so he rallied a bunch of family and friends to hang out in PS for the weekend. Since we were just there a few months ago we had spec'ed out a few hotels that looked interesting. The one we absolutely fell in love with is Korakia. It's a Mediterranean inspired oasis featuring a rock water wall with San Jacinto as the back drop, infinity pool, fire pits and torches all around and casually designed and appointed cabanas. The place is magical and designed to encourage you to forget about your regular life and enjoy tranquility at least for a few days. There are no phones or televisions - in other words, no distractions. Just as Deetjen's is our sanctuary in coastal Big Sur we've found our special everafter place in the desert.

With just the right amount of service, homemade breakfast is served in the courtyard each morning, Morrocan mint tea and skewers of fresh fruit in the afternoon, capped off in the evening by chunks of delicious chocolate left in your room. Agatha, the TWENTY FIVE ! year old cat and resident mascot, is a soothing element in this serene environment enjoying the sunny poolside or cozy daybeds along with the guests. One night before dinner we curled up with blankets and lanterns and watched a classic movie under the stars. One morning after breakfast we took the bikes available for guests and toured through town before slinking into the pool for the rest of the afternoon. They host retreats as well and I can't imagine a more wonderful experience. Can't wait to come back!

Here's how we spent our 4 day weekend:

Just west of PS lies the sprawl of Desert Premium Outlets. I'm not much of a shopper but we decided to stop by since we we'd never been before plus we had arrived in the vicinity too early to check in at Korakia. All the luxury brands are represented - Prada, Dolce, Versace, Burberry - so it was fun to peruse and fantasize. For dinner we LOVE Matchbox. The food is positively delicious whether it's the cherry glazed pork chop or halibut fish and chips or simply an artisan pizza. It's right in the heart of PS and will never disappoint, unless they are closed which I learned they are only open for dinner.

Our friends were staying at the Viceroy so we joined them poolside for lunch on Saturday and then spent the afternoon relaxing at one of 2 pools at Korakia. The sun sinks behind the mountain earlier in the Tennis Club section of PS before anywhere else especially in winter so the mint tea was a wonderful way to warm up before a little glass of whiskey fireside later in the evening. Our friend had planned a BBQ at the house he rented so we had a wonderful evening with old friends reminiscing and having a gay ol' time.

There are zillions (slight exaggeration) of hiking trails in the PS area to suit all fitness levels. The one we opted for on Sunday morning was the rigorous Museum Trail. It's 2 miles, much of it rock climbing, with a 900 ft elevation gain. From the ridge line you can look out over the whole valley. It is gorgeous and so invigorating. After a little rest we headed out to the convention center to take in some cultcha. I prefer edgier art than most of that displayed at this show, however there were a few things I fell in love with. Each of them in the tens of thousands of dollars :( Afterward we celebrated Damon's birthday at Spencer's. The atmosphere is modern and lively, the food is delicious and perhaps, had it not been one of the last reservations of the night, the service would have been palatable as well. However, we felt as though we'd overstayed our welcome when they were dragging out the vacuum cleaner and we hadn't ordered dessert yet. It may deserve a second chance since the wine list is decent and the food was above average. Looks like a very nice place for brunch. Our room at Korakia had a little courtyard as did the adjacent room so we met the wonderful couple staying next to us. We decided to meet up with them later at Hunter's, a gay nightclub. Although it was Sunday night on a holiday weekend (usually the best night to party) the club was thin with patrons but the dancing and people watching is always good.

Three days passed in the desert leaves you lazy and lingering. We really needed to get out of town but there was an open air art faire and of course all the vintage furniture shops and bric-a-brac on North 111 called to us. We toured the eco-friendly pre-fab house daydreaming of the time when we'll settle on a cool piece of dirt in central coast and erect a tilt up house and raise goats. I guess that's another post. Tradition mandates that when leaving Palm Springs we have to hit up Hadley's for a banana date shake putting a sweet end to another delightful weekend in PS.

Loss

My precious Grandpa died today. Once a strapping and spirited man he was ravaged by that heinous "C" word that has become such a nonchalantly normal part of modern life. But in the end, still stubborn and full of good humor, he was a shadow of his former self. He was shrouded by his loving family as their gentle presence allowed his journey to the other side to be a little more comfortable.

Loss is difficult to conceive until you've lost. Sadly, it's a profound emotion I've become all too familiar with. I had the good fortune not only to know him (and all of my grandparents) but to sit at his bedside and tell him how much he has meant to my life and express how his teachings and the love I felt from him enriched the very person that I am. Because I was blessed enough to have such a lengthy relationship with him it makes it that much harder to say goodbye. I wish it were easy to gracefully accept death as a inevitable even beautiful part of life - an event not to be mourned but to be celebrated and upheld. This too is difficult when the process is begat with so much suffering. For the surviving the great emptiness that is left in the wake of death can overshadow the gratitude that we feel about the termination of pain and the joy that the life bestowed upon us.

I will miss so much about my Grandpa and all those who passed before him for the many contributions they made to my life and the world at large. While death saddens me it does not scare me. I see it as a chance for a new beginning. A chance to embrace the beauty of life all over again.

I'm An Angel!

As if you didn't know that already.
I just finished my shift volunteering for the KCRW membership drive and I became an angel donor. In addition I helped raise over $1300. to keep the programming I love alive and well. Your turn.

Road Trip - California's Gold

After three years of financial pummeling and fresh off the heels of our remodel, we were cash strapped so a big vacation was out of the question in 2011. Good thing I love to camp. It's a ton of work but ultimately worth the struggle when you cook by firelight and sleep under the stars. September is the best time to travel - I would argue just about anywhere in the world since the weather is generally warm and crowds are gone. After talking with my sister-in-law in Bend, Oregon and learning that they planned to spend the labor day weekend up at Lake Shasta I decided that would be the jumping off point for our holiday. When you're camping for a week you need a lot of gear. We decided to rent a SUV so we could have reliable a/c and iPod plug in to make our trip a little more enjoyable than that my old Jeep could promise. Other than 3 days in Shasta we had no particular plan. Much of the state is scorching hot but the coast can get downright cold so we needed to be prepared for anything.

When we left on Thursday afternoon it was warm but not uncomfortable. By the time we got over the grapevine - a stretch to the south of Bakersfield - it was a wall of heat. I turned on the a/c. Nothing. I turned up the a/c. Nothing. OMG! It was a late summer heat wave and we had no a/c. I called the rental agency and they said we should swap the car out at the nearest airport, which by then was Fresno and another 2 hours away in the blistering heat, making sure they could accommodate our need of a large SUV. One speeding ticket later on some back farm road and they were changing our contract at the rental place only to find out the car they promised had been sold and unavailable for rental. They stuffed us into a much smaller crossover SUV but we had functional and cold a/c. This inconvenient set back put us way behind schedule and we were forced to bed down for the night in the Sacramento area.

It was dark when we pulled off the highway in search of a quaint, affordable spot to sleep. We pulled into the lane way of one place only to be chased off by some nefarious looking fellows. In the next stop Damon met a woman in the lobby who informed him that this part of town, South Sac, was known as hooker row. Onward we go. As luck would have it our next exit in Old Sac was the right one - perfect location, clean room, good value. We crashed after an exhausting day excited to do a little exploring the next day.

Sacramento is the California State Capitol and until this trip I'd only ever driven through on the way to somewhere else so in the few hours we had I wanted to maximize our conquests. Tours of the Capitol are conducted every day of the year. It's brief and informative including a stint in a legislative session for a few minutes. The vicinity surrounding the building is beautiful as well and hosts many shops and restaurants as well as gardens, the Governor's mansion, cathedrals and other government buildings. We spent some time in the Federal Courthouse which has a gorgeous granite "chair" installation in the lobby inscribed with proverbs and anecdotes from various famous and infamous people. Amazing city/river views can be seen from the top floor.

Just a short walk under the railroad tracks toward the river and you're back in time about a century landing in the Old West. Labor Day Weekend is "Gold Rush Days" in Old Sac and tons of dirt is trucked in to line the old streets as do horses, wagons and civil war soldiers. Old Sac was proclaimed a historic site and many of the buildings in the district are original to the gold rush era. The city is set at the convergence of the Sacramento and American rivers and was subjected to routine flooding. In the mid-1800's the city was reconstructed at a higher elevation and today part of the old city can still be seen underground. Even the Capitol was moved to higher ground from its original location. We meandered along the riverwalk awestruck by the vertical lift "Tower Bridge" and up and down the old streets until our whistles needed whetted before heading back on the road. Ten 22 was just the kind of saloon we needed with another 5 hours ahead of us to Lake Shasta at the tippy tippy top of California.

This stretch of CA is pretty boring. It's arid, fairly flat, often windy and putrid given the copious agricultural plots. We pulled up to our campground at Shasta around 6pm and met Daren and the kids at the dock where they were waiting with the boat. It was still about 90 degrees so being on the water was perfectly refreshing. After a little BBQ, I hung my hammock up between two trees and hopped up for beddy-bye under the stars. If the train passing through all night hadn't awoken me I may have been able to bear the cold but it was not to be. Into the tent I went, from the cocoon of my hammock to the cocoon of my down comforter and featherbed. We spent the weekend boating and skiing celebrating the summer.

We set off on Monday morning not having any idea which direction we'd head or where we'd wind up. It was a beautiful lush drive through the mountains as we meandered along the Trinity River which was still flowing wildly from the extraordinary snow fall earlier in the year. And it was hot, dang hot. We found a perfect spot to pull off the highway and take a dip. It was a small but steep hike down the canyon side to the river's edge. I could see how the current was swirling in the eddies at the bend in the river but given the heat it was so inviting. I'm not a strong swimmer so after a moment's contemplation I dove in. I literally lost my breath it was so frigid. The water was moving very fast but I kept close to the edge. Damon, a close relative to the fish, splashed around and played for a long while as I sat on the rocks watching gigantic Steelhead trout and salmon, practically the size of small seals, jump and play right alongside him. It was breathtaking all around.

As adventuresome as traveling without a plan is it can also be a bit harrowing when you don't know the lay of the land. We emerged from the mountains with just enough time for a brief visit in Eureka, the largest of Northern California's coastal towns. We went from 100 degree temps inland to needing our winter coats at the beach. This variance in temperature creates the visibility of pea soup so we didn't get to see much of the rugged coastline. The town sits on the bay and has a devout Victorian architectural influence. I'm pretty sure the prudish era's influence ends there given Humboldt's reputation as Mary Jane's backyard. It is definitely hippy trippy up there and I loved it. Fuel prices were almost $5/gallon and the coffee was about as strong as fuel. We drove awestruck through the Avenue of the Giants (redwood trees) that make up the bulk of the landscape. The late summer light was waning and we still had to set up camp and cook. We found a beautiful remote spot in the Humboldt Redwoods State Park. We were one of nine occupied camp sites in a park teeming with vacationers only the night before. And lucky to get in too - they were closing for the season the next day because of state budgetary constraints. The park is in the middle of a forest so dense with redwoods that the sun barely gets through. It's laced with hiking trails of every level of difficulty and terrific amenities including super hot showers. Firewood is for sale on site.

The Shoreline Highway, also known as Hwy 1, is well-traveled by cyclists commanding the 2000 ish mile ride from BC to Baja. We shared this glorious day with them and the cows. And the, double-take, reindeer. A poet I am not but I enjoyed the juxtaposition so here's my rhyme.

By the side of the road Dasher and Dancer roam
Their sleigh and driver nowhere in sight
Under sunny skies and over 5000 miles from home
Majestic beauty before us to our utter surprise and sheer delight

Quaint town after town line the jagged coast and we stopped in just about every one of them. We talked with shopkeepers, travelers and cyclists. At one turn, as our warmth and visibility went from 9 to 2 respectively as we neared the coast, we noticed a few guys in wet suits and what appeared to be weight belts clawing their way up the steep cliff lugging bags behind them. They were reticent to talk to us thinking perhaps we were fish and game wardens since they'd been abalone diving. It is a highly regulated practice and hefty fines are doled out if you breach. They had their "license" (effectively a punch card with hanging chads) and some decent catch. They explained the laws regarding size and quantity limits but also that you can only get what you can get while snorkeling with a weight belt and that you have to use a certain tool and method to extract it from it's habitat. We also learned about preparing them for eating as well which sounds about as laborious as collecting them to begin with. Fascinating. So much so that when we stopped for a picnic lunch at the shore, we collected handfuls of the gorgeous iridescent abalone shells washed up on the beach. We've made jewelry from some pieces.

There's so much to do on the Northern coast - kayaking and whale watching among the most popular activities. We took it a little easier this go around opting instead to visit lighthouses and watch the oodles of sea lions lazily occupying the rocky surf. Each night we had to make sure to secure our accommodations before dark - although we witnessed many who didn't and had to set up in the pitch black. It was positively freezing after the fire died down and the only respite was to go to bed. Your instincts tell you to layer up to keep warm but in reality you're warmer if you strip down and snuggle up naked given our bodies are a toasty 98.6 degrees. Paradoxically, it's a rather strange and vulnerable feeling to be in nature's territory in such a "natural" way.

One day we only clocked 30 miles on the odometer. We had a wedding to attend on the weekend so we couldn't lollygag the way we might otherwise have. I was hoping to make it to Yosemite since Ive never been in the park before but we were still on the other side of the state. We'd been places and seen things we hadn't seen before and were fully relaxed - just as a vacation should be. As we pushed further down the coast night was falling as we came into Sonoma county so we decided to set up camp on the Bodega sand dunes. This was quite a different experience from the other nights in forests among the shelter of trees. Late in the day the fog rolls in thick and misty leaving the soft grainy sand a wet mess. Following a rigorous hike to the beach through this quick sand and dodging deer poop we were enjoying a big, hot blazing fire. As we sat there talking we see a shadowy figure approaching our camp. All evening long we'd spotted bright curious eyes staring at us through the ambers but they were innocuous (deer are abundant throughout the area). This creature was not you're usual expectant masked beggar. No, this was the kind that could put the kibosh on your holiday right quick. Looking for a snack, a skunk was traipsing right through our camp not 2 feet from where we sat. Any startling maneuvers and we most assuredly could have been the recipients of that offensive and most potent of defense odors. Our heartbeats no sooner returned to normal when two more came snooping around. Time for bed.

At sunrise I was still holding out hope for a trek across the state to Yosemite but Damon learned we were just an hour from San Fransisco so it will have to wait. All the ensuing events that followed were kismet and we spent the last night of our holiday in SF (see another post) capping off an incredible week of adventure.