Thoughts from the Left Coast

• The fish here on the coast is awesome. Wait a minute, I live on a coast. Why can't I get good fish there?
• A preponderance of antique shops is the surest sign that a town has nothing more to offer the world than its own discarded junk.
• Hey, look, a Starbucks.
  
• The park ranger said the lighthouse and the beach would be good places to stop, but it's fifty degrees, foggy, and everything is closed for the season. That ranger misrepresented the situation. What's his angle I wonder?
• The menu says "pizza" but there's nothing even remotely like pizza listed there. Coconut pesto? I am frightened.
• Where do they keep the really BIG redwoods?
• They toss the term "deli" around pretty lightly here. Apparently if you have some meat in a fridge or just in a box somewhere, you're allowed to put up a sign.
  
• I feel a sense of pride in not stopping at every huge eyesore meant only to get my attention, but a few miles later I wonder - maybe I should have at least considered what the 20 foot anorexic wooden panda had to offer my vacation experience before gunning the gas.
  
• Hey, look, a Starbucks.
• Oriental Cuisine. Oriental. Oriental? Didn't they retire that word in the late 80s?
• The scenic bridge hiking trail does not actually lead to the bridge. It leads away from the bridge. More deception from the national park service.
• I like driving around with Oregon license plates. It's like I'm in stealth mode.
• Hey, look, a Tully's. And a Starbucks.
• Your sign says free wireless Internet, but I have to stand next to the hotel lobby counter to use it. This kind of defeats the purpose of it being wireless.
• Bendy roads are fun. 40 miles of dangerous rocky switchbacks littered with fallen trees and the occassional patch of intentionally-placed road oil are fun only in retrospect.
• I'm not sure what made me think, "hey, why would I need to bring a jacket to the Pacific Northwest?" Thankfully, Seattle has convinced me of the error of this assumption.
• Let's see, gate C12 is this wa- Crap on a cracker, it's a Starbucks!
  

Seattle: City of Layers

Cold. Warm. Hot hot hot! Cool. Damp. Cold. Clammy. In short, your typical Seattle day.

I got as far as Lincoln City, OR before deciding that I'd had quite enough of the whole driving-to-a-thing-and-looking-at-the-thing element of tourism. So, grabbing a crab cake and an iced tea, I veered sharply right, powered across rolling plains of cattle and grapes, and jumped on I-5 via Portland. And away north to Seattle! I toyed with stopping at St. Helens, but apparently it's not smoking anymore. It used to be cool, but it's changed, man.

Seattle is strange. Every joke about Starbucks there is true. Jason pointed out a corner where you can see two of them at the same time. And there was a Tully's between them, just to be safe. The signs in the airport include Baggage Claim, Restrooms, and Espresso. These people are ill.

We went to the Space Needle, which is kinda dingy up close, and the Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame, which was very cool. They had a lot of props and interactive displays about the history of Skiffy. I actually learned a few things, although the navel-gazing self-absorption of the SF community made the museum as a whole a little... breathless. For what it was, it was good.

The weekend was very laid back, as Jason mentioned, it was the end of the vacation season for both of us. After a week on the road my own operational day was severely reduced and neither of us were really up for heavy duty sight-seeing. We went to Pike's Place to see the fish throwing and the giant shoe museum, and we went up into the crazy Seattle public library, which gave Jason vertigo. Overall it was a good experience and I'd like to go back sometime to see the Asian Art Museum and some of the markets we missed. For now, though, I'm glad to be back on the east coast, where I can be assured that people will curse at me and treat me like dirt.

But I will always remember you, Seattle Harbor Granola Girl. With your cargo pants, longsleeve t-shirt, pigtails and exposed midriff. Your yin-yang headband and Lance Armstrong bracelet. Your Doc Martens covered in muck as you dutifully sweep the kayak docks clear of debris. You may be destined for Slacker Health Food Store Boy, I know, but you will always be Seattle to me.

Family fun

Wheeeeee!

Local time:

You can't NOT stop

Local time:

Endor-rific

Avenue of the Giants, Redwood National Forest


Coastal trail in southern Oregon

Local time:

I am not Ansel Adams

This trip has really illustrated to me the limitations of my camera. Bad weather aside, I'm just not getting a lot of great shots out of what could have been prize-winning museum pieces, the sale of which would fund the purchase of several private islands. Alas, blame my lack of global photographic chops on my little Elph.

You just can't do without an F-stop. Shooting a forest floor requires a level of shutter control that you're just not going to get with an automatic camera. And don't get me started on telephoto lenses. I shot elk from half a mile a way for ten minutes before I realized how ridiculous it was.

The shots that I hate missing the most, however, are the impossible moments. Like hitting a coastal switchback and having your vision rotate 270 degrees in ten seconds and seeing something beautiful at every point. Or having a gull hover five feet from your face in dewey fog for a split second before drifting away. Or catching the reflection of distant blue sky in a river while the rest of the landscape lies cloaked in grey.

Worst of all, today I hit Gold Beach just before sunset. Imagine skating past giant upthrust rocks on wide open sand lit in glorious golden hour sunlight. The diffuse atmoshperics would have made the camera choke and spit out a whitish blur - it could not capture the subtle mesh between ocean and land, where golden brushstrokes blurred the line until only the texture of the waves marked the division.

There are masters of photography that can capture that, and they do so in their own time, but most of us must be content with the experience alone. Leave the image to the calendars and postcards and concentrate on the moment as it happened to you personally. Some moments cannot be captured.

Local time:

That's why they build them

Morbid amusement is an easily sated hobby. Have you noticed that lighthouse-intensive coastal towns are often famous for their deadly shipwrecks? Point Arena (Punta Arenas) once boasted a two-mile spit of sand extending far out into the Pacific. It had been washed away by the time the town was founded. Unfortunately the rocky outcroppings the sand concealed had NOT washed away, and the California coast went for some 400 years of regular wrecks before someone finally put a beacon on the cliffs there.

It was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake and rebuilt. Decomissioned in the 70s (along with all the other lighthouses) to make way for GPS. The Coast Gurad is restoring it to working order this year as part of a big lighthouse renovation project.

The building itself is kind of shabby, but the view from the nest is cool.

The rocks in question. There's a devil's cauldron cut into the top of the rock near the fog house.


Huge kelp beds line the coast here. You can see some of the locals swirling between the rocks.

Local time:

The Edge of America

Artillery sighting perch, south of Stinson Beach. There are hilltop bunkers all around the Golden Gate area.


Pt. Reyes Lighthouse, closed. The fog you see is moving right to left at about 50 knots. It was cold.


Promontory and beach north of Stinson.


Beach at Humboldt State Park's "Dry Lagoon." I couldn't find the lagoon. I imagine because it was dry.


Tourist trap totem pole


Fog cloaked bridge near Eureka, CA.

Local time:

'Frisco

Ran out of relevant Rocketman lyrics.

One of the annoying things about doing a travelling vacation, as in you don't spend more than a day or two in one place, is that you're left with a very long list of stuff to do next time. I only got to a small portion of the things I wanted to see today, so next time I'll have to make room for Golden Gate Park, the Japanese Tea Room, Telegraph Hill and the Presido coastal bluffs.

Also Alcatraz. I really wanted to get to it this time out, but all of today's tours were already booked before the first ferry left. Only got to see it from Fisherman's Wharf. Oh well. I'll have to get my historical penal system fix some other time. Instead I wandered around the waterfront, saw the Aquarium, ate at new and exciting tourist traps, and watched the Sea Lions hork at each other in the marina.

I was surprised to find a very good tour of a WWII submarine, the USS Pampanito. Unlike the Intrepid, the boat has been restored very close to WWII conditions and has an excellent audio tour made with the commentary from the original crew.

After that, it was Sushi for lunch (West Coast Sushi rules!) on Chestnut Street, a siesta while the camera batteries recharged, and then off to the Fine Arts Palace.

Theremin!

The palace is a World's Fair relic they use to host regular civic exhibits. Right now they have the Exploratorium. It's like a more mobile, modular Liberty Science Center with more magnets and biohazard signs.






They had a lot of nest things for kids, too.

Uh... hitting the road tomorrow.

Local Time:

High as a Kite by Then

Snob ho! Drove out to Napa Valley with some of the BBQ crew this morning. We visited St. Supery winery, which turned out to be less scenic and more snobbish than expected. Very small tour, lots of bizarre nonsensical California art scene, big luxurious wood-appointed tasting center, elderly yet oddly aggressive bouncers to keep out the riff-raff. That sounds critical, but we did get to try some very fine wines and tour a few hundred feet of vines. I would have liked to ask some questions, talk to a sommelier, be treated like a human, but that's what I get for wearing khaki shorts with white socks and hiking boots. Next time I'll remember to look like imported eurotrash from L.A.

Grapes, Vats, Naturally Occuring Do-Wop Trio

It's a pretty good racket they have going there. Get a little wine in people, then shuffle them over to the wine shop just a few feet away, with full options available for shipping, gift-wrapping, and club discounts. Thankfully, I'm far too intellient to be taken in by such cheap manipulation.

By the way, every good thing you hear about the beauty of Napa Valley is probably true. Rolling hills, bright sun, blue sky, cool damp air.

Actual Napa Valley Sky

Beautiful California

This evening, Dan (Atherin), Jen and I drove down to the Golden Gate Bridge to catch the view at sunset.

Tonight I found a cheap little Econo Lodge room overlooking Lombard St. Unfortunately it's too late and quiet to hit the local pubs/restaurants (they are creepily empty). Tomorrow I'm going to try to see Alcatraz and the Palace of Fine arts. Japanese Tea Garden and Golden Gate Park if there's time.

Local Time:

Zero Hour

The air over middle America was crystal clear on Saturday, making for a very smooth and timely flight. If only ground travel were so relible. Regardless, made it to the BBQ relatively on time and in one piece. It was a blast getting to meet TCON and friends face to face. It was also disorienting. Imagine seeing an alternate reality draped over your perceptions like a color slide show. That may LOOK like a hotel manager from the midwest, but its actually a deadly Outer Rim rifleman and hunter. That military contractor? Hairy-faced Bothan merchant. And the lady over there seems to have misplaced her Lekku. Pics:

General Hijinks

Spawn of Jaden and Aaura

We ate, laughed, argued politics. Some people pit bunnies against each other in bloody combat. Wren and Jen gave the non-believers a lesson in EQII. And a good time was had by all. Although the last few hours are a little hazy, since my brain is still firmly rooted in another, more bagel-intensive temporal dimension.

Local Time:

Packed my Bags Last Night, Preflight

Early Saturday I will be winging my way out of JFK to the lovely San Francisco for a week of rambling. I'll be meeting with some Internet friends, travelling the Redwood Highway, and ultimately making my way to Seattle. With a hefty new 512MB flash card for my camera, I'll take lots of pictures and hopefully get to blog a good chunk of the trip (They have the Internet in California, right?). Since that will eat up bandwidth on the front page, I'm reducing the number of days displayed.

Keeping in line with my personal history, I started packing about two hours ago. Because, you know, I don't like to be rushed.

Seven hours to wheels up. Wish me luck.

Da Fourth

Pulled a long commute today - from Boston to Boonton. It took five hours, not counting the exceptionally slow McDonald's server who made my breakfast bagel. Had a great time, but forgot the camera again. I love Boston. I think I may move there.

Recuperating now. In the mean time, here is a bunny who loves his country.