Mr Trail Safety Speaks!

A Beginner's Guide To Western States Yes, it's that time of year again, when Young Ultrarunners Everywhere Like You®™ turn their fond attentions and deficit-disorders to Western States 100. You've been to Kamp n0Rm, you've sat thru the Blister Show, and been anointed in Knowledge. But to help you along in your Epic VisionKwest®™, I have compiled some of the Ancient Secrets that will help You and You Alone. These are cryptic and hermeutic. As Don Juan Castaneda once said, "This will put the plomo in your Lapiz". THE START It will be dark and cold. Your nipples will be very perky. This is a good time to be a detached bystander, but you arent, so there. You'll have past-life memories flooding your consciousness, and be incredibly desirous of taking a leak in the bushes. The gun goes off. Maybe its a howitzer. In any event, the shell goes long, and a hidden meth lab over the next ridge gets buried in an avalanche. You're Off! Most of you love-guns ...

Mr Trail Safety's Favorite UltraList Things Sunburn on noses and black flies that’ve bitten Bottles run dry and woods that I’ve shit in, Rattlers coiled up and ready to sing These are a few of my favorite things Comments on salt and trail-head poodles Hairballs and GU-packs and DNFs that are noodled, Lo-mileage coaches that fly on your wings These are a few of my favorite things Long tortured debates on mountain money, Why LEDs and flashlights are so gosh-darn funny! Early departures from motel bed-springs These are a few of my favorite things When the dog bites When the bee stings When I'm feeling sad I simply channel my favorite UltraList things And then I don't feel so bad

CHANTRY FLATS Angeles Nat Forest, above Sierra Madre CA, hothouse of Rose Bowl Queens Sunday dawned clear and warm. This was the first calendar day of autumn and yet was alive with hundreds of eager, ready and willing tiny bugs that wanted to homestead in any available nostril. That's the glory of love. Meanwhile, J-Lo was making her final tearful preparations. Bennifer was in the bathroom sulking. Her Inflatable Trail Companions in the form of Dr Casino Bingo, Draw Poker and MC Stumpy-D [shout out to all his homies in the HP!] had gathered at Chantry Flats. They were to run a short 22 miles to Millard Campground. A three-hour cruise. Butt-kickers and high-knees the whole way. Enough time to review the contents of the latest JoggersWhirld, and then get back to the mall for a smoothie. Ask Dave, I've forgotten her name already. The climb up Mt Wilson-Phillips passed in a blizzard of splits and statistics. Stumpy-D and Dr Bingo traded whiffleball headers. Draw Poker's head sn...

We all know about KCRW's infamous Pledge Drives. Yabbering sincerity. Auntie Ruth hectoring YOU about reading other people's NYT, especially since its available only in translation here in LA. Its hard work being a cutting style-leader, having the latest murmured Brit-pop and shoe-gazer geek chic loaded up on your iPod. And frankly, most of you are guilted into it. You, humble KCRW listener, want something more to show for it. And Aunt Ruth wants a better bottom line. Enter the KCRW Pledge-Drive Premium Modest Proposal. I propose the following Donor Level--The Double Golden BareBack Angel CD Special. If you're a guy, you give $30k, and you get a weekend suite at Shutters, unlimited mini-bar & room service, and the lissome 15 year old girl of your choice. The Enquiring Mind might ask "Where's the CD in this?" O ye of little faith. That's the 15 year old girl, and whatever it takes to get you thru the nite, all right, all right. And for the ladies, we...

My Poem 4 Dusty Mountains, By Lady G-Spot I live up here in the Sierra Nevadas, Where rocks and trees, suck up lotsa water. The breezes blow strong into my sheltered lair, Whereupon dust, is an all day affair. Above my living room, Blankets hang over railing, Their near-pristine state, Confess none of my failings. They, like I, suffered no consequences. When I indulge, in Harlequin Romances. I whisper to you, that I always come clean, As my Auld Forest Prince, loads my washing machine. -- Blushingly, Crushingly ....Lady G-spot

Shit blows up, especially when you're smug and clueless. (Updated Jan 5, 2013) I love it when Hollywood assholes get lost in the mountains. It's right in line with "I HEART the planet" bumperstickers you see on their SUVs. Note: I also love seeing GOP lobbyists and Christian Taliban getting popped on morals and corruption charges too. There is no free lunch here. Back to the main point. This was too rich to ignore, from the February 8, 2005 LA Times. The Talmudic Annotations are in CAPS , for your conceptual pleasures. ============ February 8, 2005 CALIFORNIA 2 Hikers' Return Ends Search I READ THE NEWS TODAY, OH BOY... Crews weary from four rescues are relieved to see the pair walk down from Mt. Baldy. LOOKING FOR WUV, IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES -------- By Lance Pugmire and Janet Wilson, Times Staff Writers -------- Two hikers - a Hollywood screenwriter and the son of "Designing Women" actress Annie Potts STRIKE TEAM DELTA, STR...

¡Feliz Ramadan! Hello Everybody! Its that time again--Christmas Newsletter Time. I started the year with a short trip to the Congo, where I was able to extract secret compounds that aid in musical terminal-pain management. This will have great application in elevators and malls all across our great country. I also gained secrets and insights, accompanied by the rumbling of drums, from sage elders who passed on their wisdom by flickering firelight: Buy low, sell high. Word. When I got back to the Good Old USA, I was on hand to give wise advice and counsel to troubled souls as part of my community service requirements following the railroading I got in the 9th District Court. You don't remember? I was sued by militant vegans for my black-powder hunting expedition where I killed the last of the Giant Free-Range Tofurkeys. All that are left now are the tiny ones, who lead a short, pathetic life haunted by mortal fear, but I digress. My community service involved helping...

Cougars are a fact of life here in Southern California. As the pressures of urbanization increase on the foothill and mountain communities, human interactions with mountain lions are bound to increase, often with unpredictable results. Recently there have been several highly-publicized encounters between the cougar and humans. Some have been fatal for humans. Mountain bikers, runners, and casual hikers are becoming more aware of the cougar's presence in the mountains. The following talk was delivered at the Quarterly Proceedings of Anthropomorphic Zoology, Spring 2004, by Erasmus Binkster. The symposium was held in the Ayn Rand Asbestosterium, located on the Pyroclastic Community College campus, Puta Vista CA. ===== Southern California Wildlife: Year of the Cat "Hello...Hello...I think my PowerPoint Presentation is having a few problems [tapping sounds]...while we're waiting for the AV techs to work this one out, let's get started...oh! there it is! In Farsi and Punjab...

Dr Casino Bingo reads a map in a rising whispering wind. VisionKwest 4.0: "Passion of the Sliced " Joshua Tree National Park 3/27/04 31 miles LEFT-OVERTURE The Fourth Annual VisionKwest Invitational was held this past Saturday, Mar 27 at Joshua Tree. This annual 31 mile run across the rugged, stony landscape of the unique environment had many rewards and surprises for all the participants. The VisionKwest appeared as simultaneous revelation to the two unindicted co-originators, Casino Bingo and Draw Poker in 1999. The then-upcoming Millenium was stimuli to deep thinking on the subject. After consulting sacred texts [Morrison:1967, Page & Plant:1971], and channelling bardic entities, the VisionKwest was born. The course has had many starts, and several finishes, usually a dusty matte. The main route has always involved The California Riding and Hiking Trail. Play your cards right, and there will never be enough shade. There is no freely occurring water on the course. The r...

A satiric comment on the current body-part scandal at UCLA. Grab A Cadaver [with no apologies to the Steve Miller Band] I heat up, I can't cool down You got me chopping 'round and 'round 'round and 'round, and 'round it goes At UCLA, with these donated bones Every time I get the call, I pack my bag, I'm roaming the halls Bodies donated--to science and more, There's green to be had--deep in the gore! Grab a Cadaver I wanna reach out and slab ya Slab-a Grab a Cadaver Grab a Cadaver I drive on campus, a monkey paw Sack of tools, a power saw Dead people wait to feel my love I get a grip with a rubber glove. Grab a Cadaver I wanna reach out and slab ya Slab-a Grab a Cadaver Grab a Cadaver I start work, I make a mess I hate working under duress Muscle and tendon, gristle and bone Get paid by the piece by working alone There's magic and romance in those eyes Each one of them goin--to different guys What the hell! the heart is blue Buy the whole set and the ...

Dearest Phillip S: On the subject of manners and mannerisms I will endeavour to elucidate the answer least appropriate to the strictures of time, space and convention. The Valley Forge trail is not popular with mountain bikers, which limits recreational tipping opportunities for the trail runner. There is something inherently satisfying about the sound of the wind in the trees, birds and squirrels having running feuds, and the fading shrieks of a mountain-biker going over the side of a trail after they've tried to run you down. It's times like these when I feel very close to Nature. How much does one tip mountain bikers? 15%, 20%? Or does one try to tip them all? The percentages refer to the leading-edge velocity [analogous to a helo-rotor] of a Powerbar, rattan cane, or 15" Braunschweiger sausage at the maximum hitting point. Top speeds vary from 125mp to 600mph. Therefore even 15% of either of these speeds striking a witless MTB'er will cause a trajectory dislocation...

A Seasonal Prelude to Probable Magnificence DATELINE: LOS ANGELES 2004 While 22,000 Road Gerbils were getting their multi-figured money's worth out of the XIX Bill Burkathon here in the Great Satan By The Sea, I was a wee scampering Karma Squirrel skittering over the bosky flanks of Mt Wilson Phillips. Alone. Nearly naked. Cougar bait. And nary a Barking Duck [Torrence, Bingo, 1999] in sight. I have raised my sights to being a Sunday ultra-trail pest this summer. Not that I'm interesting in running ultras, but tagging along as a whoopie-cushion while others are training strikes me as worthy. It's like watching a slo-mo circus train wreck, where clowns are ejected from overturned box-cars, only with dorky hats and hairy butts. But I get ahead of myself. The weather had shifted from winter to spring in a few short days. Last week's chill and damp had given way to festive tendrils of happily buzzing flies, outriders to the hordes that will rise up and greet the rosy-finger...

Random cryptic image irrelevant to training runs Sun Jan 25 07 1354  We milled at the start at Fabled Chantry Flats. The air was well-hung with the ghostly echoes of Barking Ducks.  Hal "Clark Kent" Chiasson watched us from the safety of his car, and expressed relief he wasn't coming. After signing some forms, he maintained a straight face while backing away slowly.   The Holistic Ocarina sounded a plaintive note. We were off--a three-way struggle for Massive World Domination. Mr Trail Safety, Dr Casino Bingo and the cryptically tagged Micah "218 Koi" White were raging up the blacktop towards the Upper Winter Creek Trail, leaving naught but molten tar and .38 Special tunes in their wake.  The Massive World Domination [MWD] contest was off, and waddling. Each playah claimed a special disability.  "I've only run 10 miles this week"  "My Knee is still fucked up--but I want to keep my streak alive"  "I've been watching STYX informerc...

Here's looking at you, kid. Christmas 2003 I got a double-fistful of Cuban cigars from my aunt. It was the most amazingly 'out of left field' gift that season! What a hoot! That alone was worth it. So now I'm thinking..."today's a slow day, New Year's Eve is tomorrow...what would it be like?" I haven't smoked anything in 24 years. Last week I'd followed a guy smoking a joint on the street. But that was it. Erring on the side of caution, I saw off an inch from the tip of one of these beauties [fake or real Cohibas, they have a very sweet aroma], and put it in a pipe. I'm sitting out on the balcony, and light up. Blue smoke! euphoria! This is great! I'm in love! This eternal state lasts 15 minutes. Then I feel my chest constrict. My head is lightened considerably. I sink backwards. I feel an ominous rumbling in my lower depths. I stand up with effort. I am off-plumb by 10 degrees. Stumbling in to the can, I drop trou and unstead...

Saddam is in the bag. The insurrection continues with no let up. The Bush Administration is deluded in this process. Iraqis hated Saddam. And now that he’s gone, they hate the Americans more. This is not what Bush & Co had in mind, and it certainly riles Paul Bremer, the erstwhile caretaker. All this was not “supposed to happen” Why? Leadership is undergoing rapid evolutionary change. For the first time in thirty years Iraqis have decentralized decision-making opportunities. Sunni, Shia, nationalist, Baathist—everybody is on the move. People are making direct decisions without oversight, or approval from a distant centralized source. Motive and weaponry intersect neatly in a wide-open gun-culture that would make the NRA proud. Some will be caught and killed, no doubt for their own good, if the Coalition is to be believed. Along the way they are sharpening their game. The knowledge-base will increase. Coalition appointees like Chalabi have been sidelined, and they are uneasy. They ...

New Menace From Above Yesterday, a new aerial menace was unleashed above the Los Angeles basin--I took my first flying lesson. This was a birthday gift--a Three Hour Tour; 1 hr of ground and 2 hrs in the air. We were going up in the single-engine Cessna 172 high-wing 4-seater, N107AF. And that's what came back. I am not making this up--Mary Pat rode along and saw the white knuckles of Dover herself. My flight instructor was a genial steely-nerved nice-guy named Lewis. First I got a clue at the dials I was going to be making friends with. Then we went over basic aeronautical theory, Bernoulli Effect and so forth. That effect sometimes requires a bag, but not today. It was clear and calm. Then we went outside and did the entire methodical preflight; wagging the ailerons and rudder, optically testing the fuel for clarity [he declined my offer to hold a zippo up to it], checked the tires, removed the cotter pin from the yoke, and so forth. Oh yeah, also disconnected the tie-downs from...

Misty Mountain Double-Donger: Ontario & Cucamonga Barking Duck Expedition   DATELINE: SEPT 14, 2003 ICE HOUSE CANYON, CA   "Morning had broken, like it does for infidels" as once was sung by Cat "Jihaadi" Stevens hung in the air like a cheap coat. This uplifting canticle set the tone for the Late Season Ontario & Cucamonga Barking Duck Expedition. The mandate of the expedition was clear: to seek out and destroy new worlds of understanding in the rugged and vertically-challenged peaks above the Ontario Mills Mall and Jail-Bait Recreation Zone.  The Crack Team was assembled in the gathering light: Dr Casino Bingo, Mr Trail Safety, and "Micah White" [not his real name]. It was to be a lightning strike, an unsupported scientific enquiry into the lives of the secretive and reclusive San Gabriel Barking Duck.  The Expedition would insert at Ice House Canyon, make a rapid upward foray up the [Roy] Chapman [Andrews] Trail to Ice House Saddle. Pausing ...

JT 3.2 Joshua Tree VisionKwest 3.2 .69 CEUs PRE-REQUISITE: Basic Knowledge of VisionKwest Study Materials. ESSENTIAL READING LIST: Shakira, Heidi Klum, Saul Alinsky, Maxim. FACULTY: C Bingo & D Poker Become as One with the Indifferent Vastness of the Sonoran/Colorado Desert Interface as you accompany Professors Casino Bingo & Draw Poker on a select scenic running tour of the Joshua Tree Nat Park. Seminar begins at Boy Scout Trail and ends up at Split Rock. Landmarks encountered along the way include but are not limited to Cap Rock, Geology Tour Road, chubby boy Scout Leaders, sweating German tourists, Pine City, Queen Mine, corpulent RV drivers, Dildo's Cave, and sweating poodles running in circles around parking lots. Runner expected to provide own pickle-brine and chorizo. 1 mtg: Sat Mar 22, 0700. =======SECTION CLOSED======= My hands shook as I read the course description. Where was mention of awards, prize money, permits and short-course PRs???? I hadn't been this n...

Lies, Damnable Lies A sultry whisper in my ear. “Finishing a marathon is like pie…warm Apple Pie…” It was Denise Richards. I began to sweat. I looked at my wristband. WWSD. What Would Satan Do? I was stuck for an answer. I smelled brimstone. A deep laugh boiled up beneath me. “Silly wabbit…Carboplex! Carboplex!…Remember last summer at band camp!” Dark laughter fading away. It takes a brain to laugh and a train to cry. A sound like a gunshot. The relentless Music-Box Dancer replay of “Chariots of Fire” Swirling issues of JoggerzWhirld blinded me. Recipes for low-fat smoothies and better 10k splits blighted my vision! I was trapped in a crowd of 50,000 gerbils wearing bibs and ChampionChips! I fell down. I was being trampled! Denise Richards was laughing at my incompetence… again! I tried to get up and she faded away in the crowd that swirled around her, as I woke up with a jolt. I was not running the XX LA Marathon . Praise Gawd. I lit a Kool 100 to settle my frazzled n...

My Half-Assed Culo Gordo The Homage to the epic Culo Gordo 50k was run yesterday in the Santa Monica Mountains. It followed the canonical route as laid down in the last century by the renowned "brujo-dybbuk" Devi Reinstein. I was late to the start due to an early morning drop off at LAX. I supposed if I hadn't flipped off the security goons and waved the gun I might have gotten there earlier. But I wanted the front-runners to have a fair chance. The morning was clear and sharp--nippleaciously perky in fact. The rain clouds of the night before had gone on to other locales. As I blundered up the trails out of Will Rogers State Park I wondered "Where's Meg Ryan when you need her? What's a tranquil Sunday morning without a loud cell-phone?" At the Backbone/Sullivan Cyn trail jct I could feel the heat of the front-runners. Their subtle imprints in the dirt led down into the canyon. I followed the yawns and butt-flares of the bobcat and cougar. At the bottom ...