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Showing posts from 2006

Thanksgiving Overnite to West Fork

Seeing as I desperately needed it, and knowing this for several months prior, I took a fast-pack overnite camping trip out of Chantry to West Fork CG. The route is Chantry--->Mt Wilson-->Kenyon Devore Trail to West Fork.

Started late around 11am. Made top of Mt W in leisurely time by 130-2pm. Saw a few day hikers primarily on the south-faces. Once over the top of the Mt Wilson parking lot, nada. Dropped down K-D Trail [empty] for 3 mi. Right turn to West Fork CG, made it sometime just before 4pm. Nobody was there.

Saw that fires were OK there, and got to thinking. Gathered wood, got out my magnesium fire-starting bar that I've carried for years and decided to use it. Shaved some off the bar w/ my knife onto tinder. Not quite. Reshaved several grams into a cupped leaf, added teeny micro twigs. Struck as spark from the spark bar on the other side--whoosh! fire!! Did the log-cabin layup with incrementally larger kindling, happy-happy fire.

Made dinner in the gathering night. Watc…

I Too Have Touched The Screen

As Americans went to the polls today, they decided any number of important issues.

Here in Los Angeles, known affectionately as the Great Satan, and a known writer's retreat for visiting ecclesiastic dignitaries, I too voted.

I voted for:

THE SUPERMODEL HABITAT RESTORATION ACT OF 2006-
This would restore thousands of square somethings so that supermodels could visit day-spas and low-fizz water bars untrammelled by reality. Funding to come from retail sales of OxyContin and free-range sulfur.

I voted against:

THE RUSH LIMBAUGH ENCINO VENENOSA EXPERIMENTAL FOREST PRESERVE-
Which would have set aside at least 50,000 acres of pristine near-vertical wild-lands to nurture the most pervasive Southern California flora, but somehow tragically misunderstood. Estimated costs: $50b. Would exceed previously earmarked funds from sales of OxyContin and Viagra, along with off-shore Dominican Republic Hedge and shrub funds.

Paris Hilton as Street Furniture

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September 2006, Myra Ave north of Santa Monica Blvd, here in Silver Lake.

Tainted [Oak] Trail Love

Father’s Day dawned with not a clue of what was to transpire. The Original Plan was to drive up into the mountains, and extract a meaningful run from the trails. And thus I would honor the Billions of Unborn that had sprung from my loins into the aether.

However, Fate intervened. CalTrans had closed Highway 2 just above the sleeping and complacent exurb of La Pinata. A blinking sign notified the hordes of suicidal rice-rocketeers that there was a brush fire in progress, so kindly go elsewhere. But as not to discriminate, this aviso was extended to the general public as well.

I put the Squirrel into a 180-drift, and lost only one of the 40” spinnies I’d put on last week, and continued down to the Windsor/Arroyo parking lot. I wedged in amongst all the agitated Velo-Bobs, and began my Final Preparations.

And so were they, anticipating a crankin’ drive up to Mt Wilson-Phillips, and then to hurl themselves off the top from Red Box, and like be ragin’and shit down through Switzer’s Camp, a…

Dinner Is Served, Mr Rat.

Last week I decided I'd heard enough from the Rat RaceTrack above my head. Too much frolicking and fun at the expense of a night's sleep. It was unlikely that in the New Regime, the new owners were likely to call Western Exterminator anytime soon. It was time to take action.

After work I went to Anawalt Hardware, and followed the well-beaten path to the Rat Department. Hoisting myself up out of the groove in the concrete, I studied my options.

I was amused at the array of rat devices on sale. There were various kinds of rat-traps, rat poisons, rat catch-devices, rat condos, and rat sonic annoyers that you can plug into the wall sockets. Before I made my final choice, I had to check them out. One was a metal tubular tunnel that presumed Mr or Mrs Dim Rat was going to stroll in, and then stay in, while a light went off outside. You could then take the tunnel, and humanely turn the affected rodent loose somewhere else, probably after making it promise to sin no more. A simpler ve…

Mother's Day Bonkfest

It all seemed so klar, Herr Komissar.

Sitting under Dwarf Bo Tree in the famed Corral Canyon parking lot under the late noonday sun, the shade was just enough to lower my core temperature down to brown dwarf levels. From there it was just the canonical 4.2 miles back to the Squirrel, a partial afternoon of temporized frolic in the Santa Monicas. But that was yet to come.

Earlier that morning, I was a mere portent of a Jung Mandala. I was heading up the Pacific Coast Highway, where coastal fog gripped Malibu like Aimee Mann's implacably hostile indifferent lyrics. Once up Latigo Canyon, all was a crystalline harshness that promised a fine hot day. So much for the love of a blonde.

Sunday was the Season's First Hot Training Run of the Rest Of Your Life. We've all been here before, and every year it gets flushed away. Hence, the joy of rediscovery. If gamma rays are subatomic iron molecules boring holes in your corpus delicti, then photons are their dilettante cousins, leaving o…

Languid Early-Season Overtures To An Indifferent Muse

My life is complete--I'd put the 40" spinner rims and rear-deck deflector on the Squirrel. The mountains beckoned.
This story begins in a desultory manner.
It was a cold and dreary night, Heather Locklear was on the sofa eating bon-bons, pining somewhat over the priapic departure of one Richie Sombrero, when suddenly...a shot rang out! She shivered as the flimsy peignoir slipped provocatively down, revealing what to my wondering eyes! but a copy of Dr Geo Sheehan's "Running for Dummies". Oh. My. God. There it was--the oft-thumbed chapter on What To Do After Boston.People often ask me about my training methods. My answers are Delphic in their delineations. Here is an instance.

Last weekend, Dr Casino Bingo and I did a Circuita Minora, a Mini-Me Transect if you will, a diet-slice portion of the San Gabriels. After duly fortified by a Grade-B Breakfast, we made it to the Trail Head at Clear Creek, the crossroads where the Angeles Forest Hwy crosses Highway 2. The win…

Rollin' Away the Stone: Year Zero-Six

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Rollin' Away the Stone: Year Zero-SixI: Alles KaputtThe bungee cord of recovered memory took me back.

Back to the opening scenes of the powerful film "Das Bööty", where the lanky Herr Kapitan G of U-812 was studying the world through the powerful ZeissOptikon Periskop. He'd been stalking the elusive "Convoy Odalisque" for several days--the round-bottomed freighters were tempting, but he had to wait for the proper moment.

Little Dieter the radioman was monitoring the convoy signals. Suddenly he began to pick up the cluster LS-MFT...LS-MFT...LS-MFT. A distress call broadcast in the clear.

Herr Kapitan G 's commands were curt, with no schwitters.

"Es ist total alte Schule...senken Sie den Periscope"

The periscope retracted swiftly to the deck as the klaxon brayed its 2-note "Muff-diving! Muff-diving!" alert.

The Bosun bellowed "Prepare torpedoes!"

The swift and deadly Mark VIII-PunktFunf FleischTorpedoes were readied, armed, and cha…

Musical Verities

Your morning is now ruined.

Several of us were discussing this on Tuesday night. My favorite Backstreet Boyz songs from The 2-Pac Tribute Albumz are:

FRONTIN-NOT-HUMPIN

I'M WISHIN I WAZ FREAKIN YOUR SISTER IN HER PASSAT

IF I BEG REAL NICE, CAN I DO YOU?

MY UNDEROOS R 2 TITE

PREP SCHOOL SLAP DOWN [3" REMIX]

TAKIN IT TO THE CUL-DE-SAC MAX

ZITZ

GIRL, I THINK YOUR BOYFRIEND IS GAY

MILKSHAKES AND ROOFIES IN ORLANDO

and yes,

YOUR MAMA'S PLACE IN CABO

All this is to set the stage for your discovery of Rage Against The Machine's long-lost "Chiapas Sleigh-Ride: the Zapatista Xmas Album".

also, not to be missed:

R Kelly: "Stray Cat Blues"
Avril Lavigne: "Cher Before Her Thyme"
Michael & John Bolton: "Classic Renditions"
Richard Simmons: "Channeling John Lee Hooker"

PS: you know you want this: "Britney Lip-Syncs Nico"

Trail Work, Playing Nice, and Other Topix

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Hanta ho, truthseekers!
 AC100 Trail Work This past Saturday I ascended the Aulde Mt Wilson-Phillips trail, departing the Shire of Sierra Madre, wherein the Hobbits were busy for another fine breezy day of debt-stacking down at the Santa Anita Mall, and perhaps the Racetrack. I, of course, was a mendicant on my way to see the first trail work of the new year, led by the inestimable Hal Winton.

Uncle Hal, you may recall, is the co-RD of the AC100. In this capacity, he is the head of the AC100 Trail Volunteer Group. This entitles him to palaver, entreat, negotiate, commiserate, and cooperate with the local US Forest Service here in Southern California. On any given day he'd rather be blasting stumps, but these are the necessary steps to ensure that the Race has a place at the table when decisions are being made.

Some of the decisions involve who gets to go where when roads wash out, when forests are tinder-dry, and when little tiny frogs become very large in an environmental impact…

Wherein I Save Four Trail Betties From Unspeakable Peril, Pt I

I had only pondered the verticality of the Bulldog Road for a mere 19 minutes when I was stopped by an earnest young man heading down the mountain. His first query was in a dialect and demotic strange to me, but familiar. Upon a second request his plaint was made known to me, and was as follows:

"Where is Corral Canyon?"

Oh my young woodchuck, it is the better part of a league in the exact opposite direction you are heading.

He was revealed to be a sincere young man, an Indian native from New Delhi, and had ambitions to be a Sierra Club Group Leader. This was the preview to the provisional hike prior to ordination in the order. Inexplicably I thought of several recent openings in various chapters after outings on Mt Baldy. I held my counsel.

After guiding him safely back to Corral Canyon, I continued my gyre. It was a good day, a 21 mile trot "in the bag" so to speak, and my car awaited me 4.2 miles hence. The wind was at my back, and I was travelling at an average rat…

Arianna Huffington Examined

Recently Arianna Huffington was taken to task for having a colossal ego and character issues. Really! Compared to the bile and crap spewing out of whatever head Michelle Malkin or Sean Hannity are wearing these days, its nothing.

Then there was a blow-up regarding Clooney's post on HuffPo etc. Insert farting noises here. Yours, mine, it doesn't matter.

I've watched the Arianna from the safety of my kitchen table for several years now. So someone had to say something. And I did.

Hollywood is not my beat," Huffington said.

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/la-wk-clooneymar16,1,7617508.story?coll=la-headlines-entnews

Hi Bob:

Dude! Do I hear the Outraged Voice of the Lover Spurned here? You mean to say that Arianna alone is the sole object of your fury because she's All About Me? And like who the fuck in DC and the 90210 isn't?

Did it occur to you that the ones you really have to watch out for are the Ones Who Claim To Serve Humanity Alone? they are the ones wh…

Vintage Wheel Estate

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The Famed Eberhardt-Kranken Fabrikant Travel TrailerThe EKF is an honored name in luxury recreational vehicles. Originally designed in 1921 and built in Austria, the original EKF Model I was a 4-meter, 2-wheel-duraluminum trailer towed behind a 3-cylinder Opel Kadett. When the trailer was set up, it deployed oleo-strutted shock absorbers, which earned the undying affections of the thousands of honeymooning couples that took to the autobahn. The initials EKF quickly became known as "Eine Kleinischen Fuckshäcke", a moniker the company never fully disowned nor discouraged.

The Depression put a major crimp in sales, and the growing war-footing of the Nazi economy siphoned off all production to the recreational arm of the Wehrmacht. By 1944 Allied bombing nearly finished off the company. Immediately after war's end in 1945 saw a heroic relocation of the factory out of the Soviet Zone was finished by February 1946. Models built under British military supervision showed a noti…

Sierra Madre: The Insolvent Village That Could

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Sierra Madre: The Insolvent Village That Could
Diamonds and Dust Redefine The Future

By Beville P. Flexworth

SIERRA MADRE, CA [AP] The unincorporated village of Sierra Madre, CA declared itself insolvent February 1, 2007. This was a chastening development for this seemingly prosperous enclave nestled in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains, immediately below the majestic bulk of Mt Wilson.

The insolvency was first announced at the City Council meeting January 15, 2007. Rumors had been swirling like Santa Anas through the famed wisteria vines for many weeks prior, and fiercely competing lawn signs had been cropping up like Algerian ivy in the bucolic tree-shaded neighborhoods. Residents were bitterly divided as to how this unfortunate turn came to pass.

Municipal debts totaled $18m against available assets of $4m. Immediate cuts were made in fire services, the police department was virtually shuttered as all law enforcement duties were assumed by the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Depar…

Gyrl, Youe Knowe Yts Trewe

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Greetings, Gentle Reader:

I have before me a poem that was recently discovered hidden in a wall, behind a broom closet, on the 4th floor attic of the Bilious Refectory of St Pythos The Charred, 2 Close Way, Bangers-On-Mash, Wankershire, England.

All internal evidence points as with one eye that it was intended as work d'art, a carta de introduccione if you will, for the author to gain favor with an unspecified, but literate woman. Other works of this era refer to such-said women as "stackedde". The author is evidently familiar with more-than-basic Principia de Pharmacopia, and was competent with the use of the astrolabe and perhaps the Astroglydde.
Gyrl, Youe Knowe Yts Trewe In thyss letterre, unadorned bye circumflexxe,
Moated by serfe, andde imperis rex,
By guttering light I penne thyss screed,
Cribbyng fromm the werkes of Venerable Bede.

Your profyle immaculata [verso/recto]—to boote,
At the shore, I'm seated, imitating Kanutte,
Attempting to conjure with Saynte John…

Marathon Advice to a Newbie

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Photo taken back when I was fab, just before my very first marathon—I knew nothing.

PRE RACE

Avoid the pre-race carbo load. It'll put a wad of gummy sludge in yr gut that will buy you nothing. And you'll be thinking of how to take a dump before race start. A better plan is to have no solid food [finished & done] after 5pm the day before the race. Relax wherever you are staying--home or maybe in that hotel you mentioned. Stay off your feet. Plenty of time for that later.
THE REAL CARBO-LOAD, 3 Day Program

Thurs: 64 oz of mango nectar mixed w/ Carboplex-interspersed w/64 oz waterFri: 64 oz of cranberry juice mixed w/ Carboplex-interspersed w/64 oz waterSat: 32 oz of Gatorade mixed w/ Carboplex-interspersed w/32 oz water
You can find the Carboplex at General Nutrition or a similar bodybuilding emporia. At the end of this load you'll feel like a cross between Godzilla and a drag-racer jumping the blocks on a 1/4 mile straightaway.

RACE DAY/PRE-RACE
Get there at least 2 hrs befor…

The Little Rose Bowl Float that Did

The Little Rose Bowl Float that Did

Actually, what WAS awesome was yesterday's Rose Bowl Parade.

Sharp-eyed specators saw the late entry and insertion of the fabled Forest Prince Float, brought to you by D&L Industries.

The 100m float featured a lazily recumbent 50ft high Ye Auld Forest Prince himself, winking at the spectators while nymphs and Trail Betties danced about his startlingly realistic Jade Stalk, as they took turns giving him what was described in the press release as a "hands behind the head knobber"

The float rocked to the thumping and wheezing of the High Country Rump-Wrangler Latex Marching Band from Tom Of Finland, Wyoming as they played "Hot for Teacher" "Take A Walk on the WIld Side" and "La Grange".

Regis Philbin and Ryan Seacrest were stunned speechless by this float, while Stephanie Edwards was observed mopping her brow and loosening her collar even though she was outside under an umbrella in the pouring rain.

The float w…