Mr Trail Safety Speaks!

A real runner, not me, a long time ago. Smøüldering Midget X commenced under a brightening gray-light with a breathtaking roster of talent. The event sponsors were pleased at the massive turnout which would maximize viral marketing efforts for D&L Holistic Industries' " Trail Porn Light ", Offshore Vacuum Party Gmbh, Hannah Montana Man-Bras, and "Sturdy, the Feral Mule" Outdoor Leadership, LLC. In the end, this event would yield a surprising new development to the traditional " Thing 1/Thing 2 Kontest fur World Domination®™ ". Since Ian Torrence was a no-show, I moved up a full 3 places. Full deets below the jump. THE PERSONALITIES MISS MIWOK In a category all her own, she'd expressed pre-event speculation that as a rapidly-aging, over-the-hill mother of a young daughter, would be slow, etc. In a rare lucid moment, I didn't bet her on the outcome, and so did not forfeit the pink-slip to my car, house, speedboat and ATV. She also ...

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...

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 ...

When I awoke this Easter morn, I knew things were different. I came downstairs and found that my chocolate Jesus had his ears nibbled off. But I come not to dwell on the travails of the Prophet, but rather to expound brightly on an overly long short run I took on Saturday; destination--Baldy Beach. I departed Baldy Village as a man burdened only with the dynamic sense of the impossible. The snow was in vagrant patches, and remained so past the Alberto Salazar Rustic Showers. Climbing upwards into the clear blue sky, I was surrounded by warm and friendly chaparral. Eventually the trail disappeared beneath snow pack. My moment had arrived. I donned my spiffy 2-toned Redfeather S-25 snow shoes. I continued to climb, the pack was hard. Following the tracks of an unnamed local, I wound my way higher and higher. For some reason the air got thinner. I was sucking down Gatorade like there was no tomorrow. Had I been the Nazarene...don't get me started. Satan however is on call 24/7 with hi...

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now in the late training season, when the colors of sunlight begin their autumnal progression; is when the thoughts of many weary ultrarunners turn to inflateable sheep. Or maybe inflateable Trail Safety Companions; the better to shepherd them thru the Dork Night Without Armour in pursuit of the 100-Mile Quest. I write this all from memory of course, lounging in Tunica Mississippi, enjoying the sultry charms of spandex'd hotties, doing basic field research on a variety of topics. My eyesight is still pretty good, and I'd say that silicone is pretty large in these parts, as well as those parts too. I digress. For I, Mr Trail Safety, a mere peg-legged Nephew, Trail Scrivener, and Narrator of the various exploits of La-La Wimpy Cali Switchback Hill Runs; every Day Is Like Sunday in anaerobic righteousness. Last Saturday found this Humboldt Idiom Savant Korrespondent wheezing up the indifferent majesty of Mt Baldy in the august and now ...