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California / photo / running / video / Wednesday — Comments Off
10
Apr 24

I must be running to something

We started a community-driven 5k series this evening. This required running a 5K. Just right out of the gate, first night of the series, they expect you to run.

Well I’ve got news for them. This was my fifth run of the entire calendar year (and one of those other four was with a suitcase and backpack in tow) and it looked like it. Critically, it felt like it.

The good news is that there are three or four more events in the series during which I can redeem myself and shave a good, solid, 15 seconds off the incredible slow time I offered tonight. But, hey, at least it hurt a lot!

The problem — as ever with running — is that I don’t enjoy it to the degree that I want to do it enough to get back to aging-guy-average. But that’s what it will take to challenge the guy who’s 20 years my junior and making it look easy. This problem isn’t going to solve itself, I suppose.

These sorts of problems often don’t.

It occurs to me that the easiest way to solve that problem is to simply steal that guy’s sneakers.

Here’s another look at the blooms on the lovely purple-leaf sand cherry (prunus x cistena). Enjoy them before they are going.

We really should be engineering a bush or tree that flowers throughout the growing season. Do we have those already? A lab should make them if not. I would have them installed as borders surrounding the property, so that they could be admired from every vantage point.

More signs of life. This is going to go from a pile of sticks to a hydrangea in about the same amount of time it took for me to run 5 kilometers.

Those things really are remarkable. Hard rains and heat and then more hard rains got to them last year. But they just keep growing merrily along. This year we may even prune them on time.

This is our last video from California.

I’m just kidding, there’s still at least a week of nice stuff to work through. But this is the last of the big views.

This is the Bixby Bridge, built in 1932, and the northernmost part of our trip.

Before this bridge was built, Big Sur residents were particularly isolated in the winter. The Old Coast Road a dozen miles away was often closed. This bridge, the longest concrete arch span in the state and, at the time, the highest single-span in the world, came in under budget.

How did they build this bridge in the 1930s? Aliens. But how did those 1930s aliens do it?

Construction took 15 months, beating the two-lane highway, itself an 18-year project, by a half decade. More than 300,000 board feet of Douglas fir timber was used to support the arch during construction. It took two months to construct the falsework alone.

They excavated 4,700 cubic yards of earth and rock and more than 300 tons of reinforcing steel were shipped in by train and narrow one-lane roads. They chose cement because it looked better and was more durable in the elements. That decision required 45,000 sacks of cement, zipped across the river canyon on cable and slings.

The arch ribs are five feet thick at the deck and nine feet thick where they join the towers at their base. The arches are four and one-half feet wide.

In our next videos, we’ll see some more aquatic creatures. It’ll be beautiful, great fun. Come back tomorrow to check it out.

And if anybody complains about their running sneakers disappearing, I have a perfectly sound alibi.

adventures / California / cycling / overwriting / photo / Tuesday / video — Comments Off
9
Apr 24

First ride of the year

After 1,323 miles on the trainer during a mild winter, this afternoon was my first outdoor ride since December.

Right from the start, and throughout this 30-miler, it was wonderful. The weather was perfect. The wind was in my face. My legs burned, but kept going, and I got a text that my lovely bride’s swim had been canceled, and that she, too, was going out for a ride. I managed to find her, and we did the last six miles or so together.

Now, at last, spring is here.

Erudite wheelmen would speak of the hum of their wheels, the grip of bar tape, bidons.

Poets would write of the power and purpose of getting back into the drops. Really, it’s heart and joyful freedom.

Freedom to ride hard, to soft pedal, to weave over the road like a kid. Freedom to try on that hill, or to not. And the thrill of coming down the other side, no matter the effort on the way up.

It’s the carefree feeling we rode with as kids.

Already, it feels like a great year of riding.

But maybe you’re here for a different sort of enjoyment and relaxation. Got you covered. Here’s another shot from an entirely unremarkable vista view on the Pacific Coast Highway.

They have so many of them that they don’t even name them or, really, even mark them all that well. But they’re each lovely. We assume they’re all lovely. We weren’t able to see each one.

Guess we’ll have to go back one day.

adventures / California / Monday / photo / video — Comments Off
8
Apr 24

The clouds eclipsed the eclipse

We did not check in on the cats last week, and don’t think I haven’t heard about it. They know they’re the most popular weekly feature. And they know, somehow, when I’ve written about them here.

They pester me incessantly when they aren’t here in their regular place.

Perhaps you’ve seen a demanding cat, but unless you’ve seen a demanding cat quite certain of their celebrity, you can’t appreciate what I’m dealing with here. Not really.

Phoebe will doze off on your knee, and it’s adorable, except for that moment you need to shift, move or get up.

But sleeping between layers of a fuzzy quilt is even better.

Not pictured, above, that guilt is folded over multiple times for maximum fluffiness, and is sitting on the back of the sofa.

These cats aren’t spoiled at all. Take it from Poseidon.

You’ll notice he’s not sitting on the sofa cushion, but on two different pillows on top of the sofa cushion.

He will, from time-to-time, sit up and watch a good police chase, however.

The person in that white truck evaded police, left the car and snuck into the woods, trying to mingle with a little encampment there. The police figured it out pretty quickly, though. Poe was there for the whole thing, though. I don’t know why he likes car chases so much, but they do captivate him.

At any rate, we remind them of their many comforts whenever they try to be sneaky, themselves, and bolt for the door.

I snuck outside to look at today’s eclipse. We were not in the totality, which every celestial mechanic expert on the web can tell you about today. But we were due something like an 81 percent endarkening. Except there was the little matter of the forecast. Clouds.

Except that, this afternoon, the clouds did not gather in their masses. There were some low, fluffy white clouds and so we were confident that we would see the thing we aren’t supposed to look at. And then, at precisely the appointed time (have you noticed everyone in the media kept saying “scheduled,” as if our people had talked to the sun’s people and we found a time that worked for everyone?) the clouds moved in. All of the clouds.

So I saw nothing of the eclipse, even though I broke out the eclipse-protecting eye wear.

After which I went to class, because you might as well see if anyone else saw the thing. One student, I know, drove to Ohio to see the big event. I guess I’ll find out, from him, how it was next week.

The purple-leaf sand cherry (prunus x cistena) is coming into its own. It’s a shrub you can’t miss; it’s right by the garage and easy to admire.

Saturday we went to the local Tractor Supply to buy a bunch of seeds.

In the parking lot there we met this guy. Chipper fellow. Quick with a joke, said he was from another town up the highway, but was very complimentary of the people he’d met today. Said they were real neighborly. Small town vibes around here. We made a nice little donation to ChildHelp and felt good about all of the seeds and soil we got, besides.

The Yankee put the seeds in the soil while I returned to grading things. Now we’re just waiting on the vegetables to appear. Maybe tomorrow.

After that, we made a fire in the fire pit. I mention it only to point out the way the smoke was escaping through this one piece of wood.

But don’t take my word for it. There’s video.

If we’re not careful we’ll develop a slow motion video habit, but I’m pretty sure my audience has moved beyond such basic tricks.

Besides, you’re here for the peaceful videos, right? Here’s another minute of the Pacific Coast Highway you can enjoy from our recent trip to central California.

Relax. Enjoy. Repeat.

And have a great start to your week. Much more interesting stuff to come here every day, including more California videos, so do be sure to stop back by.

adventures / California / Friday / photo / video — Comments Off
5
Apr 24

We interrupt our regular update for this special report

EARTHQUAKE PALOOZA WATCH 2024

I was in one room, my lovely bride in the adjoining room, and there was a rumble and a rattle. I thought, at first, that a particularly noisy garbage truck had gone down the road to fast. Or maybe a helicopter was on low pass maneuvers. Maybe the helicopter ambulance service.

To the USGS!

The steady hands in the Office of the Department of Shake Studies say it was a 4.8 temblor. This, of course, was too close to the media center of the world, and so with in a matter of minutes and hours texts and calls filtered in from the family and friends, earthquake experts and structural engineers, all.

I had dutifully walked the grounds and nothing was amiss. Except for this woeful damage.

This was my first earthquake. It is possible I’ve slept through some small ones — if they could be felt where I was at that time, that is. And I’ve been in some stadiums that erupted to the point of registering on seismographs. But this was a true parts of the earth rubbing against one another first for me.

Turns out, on this side of the country, you can feel them over greater distance. Has something to do with the soil and stone composition, I’d imagine. And we don’t even know where all of the faults are in this area. Indeed, we don’t know the precise location of the one we felt this morning, which is said to be the biggest one in this region in the history of the country.

Late in the day, we felt, barely, a 3.7 aftershock. I’d thought I’d imagined it … until The Yankee asked me if I felt it too.

So that’s two for me. Earthquakes are old hat now, and we can return back to normal sunny days with the occasional storm cloud rolling by, please and thank you.

The camellia did not seemed bothered by the rumbling of the earth beneath it.

That’s a credit, I am sure, to the big, strong root system. Not too deep, not too shallow, just right.

And also the soil they are planted in. This guy is rooted firmly in the sandy mix, here, on the inner coastal plain — where the heavy land and the green sands meet.

Things are really starting to grow around here. Now … if we can only start the process earlier in the spring.

Since we’re talking about beautiful weather and beautiful places and earthquakes, let’s have a look at a few more videos from our trip to California last month.

This is just a randoms spot where you could pull off on the Pacific Coast Highway. Just a view, unique in its ubiquity, glorious in their splendor, outstanding in their anonymity. Nothing in the world has ever happened here, except for people that stop, look down and marvel at the size of it all, the beauty of it all, and just how simultaneously timeless and ephemeral it all is.

That’s a lot to put on waves, maybe, but the waves are used to it. I stood on this beach for a long time wondering how long it takes to grind the big rocks into little pebbles, and how long before those little pebbles become sand and dust. In that light, the waves are not impressed by our meager notions of time or our literature.

Mehmet Murat ildan wrote, “The greatest pleasure of the wave is to bring the stones to the beach and then try to get them back into the sea! Everyone and everything has a toy to play with!”

And that’s true.

But waves take as much as they give. It’s a good thing they give us a lot. One is mindless, and the other we think of as a kind benefactor. How interesting that we assign conflicting personas to the opposite sides of the same wave.

No, the waves, the oceans, they are not impressed by our meager notions of time or our literature. Or our silly notions of time. Slow motion, regular speed, the few hours I spent on that beach, the thousands and millions of years some of those great big rocks have been worn down, it all means nothing to the waves. It’s mindless, yet patient. It’s off-putting, but liberating.

California / photo / Thursday / video — Comments Off
4
Apr 24

Special talk done, now back to normal talks

The presentation which I have been working on, off and on, for the past two days was this morning. I made all of my points in the time allotted. The audience was helpful, their interaction plentiful. I couldn’t quite get them to thing about the subject matter at the level I’d hoped, but that was my fault.

Several people thanked me when it was over. Two stayed to chat. Someone said it was an amazing presentation. Amazingly, that person was not me. The guy in the second row who slept through most of it would have disagreed, but this did not throw me. I am, after all, a veteran somnolence distribution technician.

The first time I put someone to sleep during a speech was in 1995. It’s a tiny bit harder to keep score these days. Students will hide behind their monitors in the classroom. But this guy today? Head down, sprawled out, mouth open. He might have drooled. Happily, he did not snore.

I don’t suppose he cares much for sports in general, or perhaps baseball or gambling in particular. But the rest of the room followed along and if it was any good, they’re why. Ultimately, I was pleased with the presentation, and the rest of the day surrounding it.

Let’s check in on the fig tree. We covered it — and, thanks to the wind, recovered it three times — during the winter. We stuffed the soil surrounding the roots with leaves. And now we are waiting on it to bud and burst back to life.

So we didn’t kill it in our first winter. Hooray!

Our neighbor said that the people they bought their house from left them a great history of their place. From all of that, they believe that our fig tree came from a cutting of their own fig tree. They think their fig tree is 100 years old or so. That’s within the realm of possibility for fig trees, but doesn’t make a lot of sense given the neighborhood. Of course, that could have been millennial slang. Or perhaps their fig tree descended from another that is 100 years old. All the trees came from somewhere, right?

Whatever the real story, I’m glad to see it starting to come back to life now that we’ve taken the canvas wrap off the thing. Now make a lot of leafs and an overwhelming amount of fruit, fig tree.

This is maybe an arrowwood, or Korean spice viburnum, Viburnum carlesii. A deciduous bush, it will yield some small fruit, too. Mostly for the birds. The smells are for everyone, though. That’s a fragrant flowering scent, and you can tell why this was planted in such a way to be near our delightful little garden path — or vice versa.

I didn’t notice this bush at all last summer. It was a bit … overgrown. But, it too, is doing well in the early spring.

These are, I assure you, different videos from what I shared yesterday. I figure that if you needed a little mental vacation from Wednesday, I could offer you a similar one from a Thursday. Plus, who’s getting tired of this incredible vista view anytime soon?

And this is the penultimate slow motion video from the California collection.

Not to worry, there’s still something like a dozen or so videos I plan to share here in the coming days.

I’m taking to heart the Cambria, California-inspired mantra, Relax Enjoy Repeat.