Semana 6 Mile

For months, my friend Chris has been making reference to this 6-mile open water swim that he's been training for. I was both impressed and intrigued as is my normal response when I learn of anyone attempting a feat that requires both mental and physical stamina. I had it in the back of my mind that I wanted to go and watch the event (which would be a bit tricky, since it's out in the ocean) so when Chris sent me a text message, asking me if I could pilot his kayak for him, it took me about 2 seconds to reply: yes!

Shortly after arriving in the lovely town of Santa Barbara, we made two stops. First, we went to the start of the race, the Santa Barbara pier. As piers go, it was pretty swell with the usual assortment of beach collectibles. We got a good look at the water and decided it was quite promising for favorable conditions; then we went to the finish where Chris did a practice swim and I went for a little jog. I know this blog entry is supposed to be about Chris' race, but I would like to just give a shout out to the jogging trails of Santa Barbara. Top notch. Well done, SB.

We went back to the hotel and vegged out for a little while, watching a special on the weather channel about the rescue mission for that woman in Antarctica who had breast cancer. Being a pilot, Chris was sure to educate me about how it really wasn't dangerous at all and that the pilots were a bunch of pansy dorks. I pointed the remote control at him and pressed "mute". Unfortunately, it didn't work.

Chris spent some time getting his gear organized for the next day. He had a satchel of food (for me and for him), both hot and cold fluids, and some dry clothes for the finish line. There was some debate over whether he would wear his squid lid and he decided that he'd make the final call in the morning. The water was around 64 degrees. Chris had some gear for me as well: a compass, because we didn't know if it would be so foggy, we wouldn't be able to site. And GPS in case I didn't want to use the compass. I was a little disappointed when the conditions were perfect and I didn't get to use either. Being a long-distance open water swimmer, Chris also had a waterproof casing for an ipod, which he had brought for me. This was by far, the best gear I've coveted in awhile.

Before we get onto the race itself, I have to give a shout out to The Ramada, Santa Barbara which was a fantastic little hotel. Serious. And right across the street from the Ihop, which led to an experiment. Chris and I pondered: we spend all this money on fancy race nutrition: Cliff bars, Powerbars, Mojo, Sharkies, etc. What's wrong with a good old fashioned Snicker's bar, or a stack of pancakes to carbo load? In yet another act of bravery, Chris decided to give it a try. 7am race morning, we were at the International House of Pancakes (which was surprisingly crowded) sampling the syrup varieties on our short stacks.

Aside from a strange dialogue with the Ihop waiter:
Chris: Are there bananas in the fruit cup?
Waiter: What do you mean by that?
Chris: I think I mean that I want to know if there are bananas in the fruit cup.

...the Ihop breakfast was a successful and enjoyable nutrition prep for the race.

We arrived at the pier and started organizing the gear and meeting the other swimmers. It was a friendly crowd, only 32 swimmers, most of whom seemed to already know each other. We were like celebrities, having traveled all the way from the "big city" for the race. It was also a pretty casual environment, the race director Jane pulled everyone together at around 8:45 to give some general guidelines on the swim, and then the kayakers got in the water, paddled out to the end of the pier and waited for the swimmers.

I haven't done much kayaking in my life, let alone ocean kayaking, and I really wasn't sure what to expect. Chris and I had done a test run at Aquatic Park the week before and conditions were pretty crap: super choppy and a strong headwind. Down in the fairytale land of Santa Barbara; however, all was serene, and I finally understood what made this activity so great. There was so much life in the water, dolphins, otters, seals, and I think I even saw a mermaid. I rocked out on the ipod to my new favorite musician Xavier Rudd and had magical moments feeling one with nature.

Chris, by the same wave of good vibes, was having a great race. The water was calm, the temperature was perfect, and he had that extra reserve of energy from the pancakes. So he swam, I paddled, I occasionally asked him how he was doing, he occasionally made a request. And at around mile two, he decided to go commando, throwing his speedo into the kayak. "Things don't get much better than this", I thought, as I transitioned from Xavier Rudd to Hall & Oates.

The finish line came sooner than I expected. I saw the buoy in the distance but it was 45 minutes earlier than what Chris had estimated, thanks to the favorable current. We made our way and then turned in and headed for shore. The rest of the swimmers and a few spectators cheered Chris in and there was a party that the race Director's mom had set up with muffins, coffee, bagels and fresh fruit. We met some nice, down-home people and enjoyed the warmth of the mid-day sun.

I truly felt honored to have been asked to participate in this way and am grateful to have had the experience. At the finish line, there was a flier for a "Santa Barbara 10-mile" swim in September. I saw Chris stuff one of the fliers into his bag.

Maui

I like Maui.
And I haven't even been there yet.

The Bug

Just outside of Yosemite, there's a quirky little spot that attracts all the quirky little people. That must be why my friends Aidan and Steph decided to book a handful of cabins at the Yosemite Bug, a hostel about 25 miles outside of the park, and invite the inner circle up for some tree-hugging fun. This was also the first getaway they had planned, post birth of their little three-month old bundle of giggles, Aine.

I am always a little bitter when I have to leave the beautiful city of San Francisco on a day when the weather is perfect. Contrary to popular belief (held by people who have never lived here), the weather in this city can be pretty damned crappy. The more beautiful it is everywhere else, the colder, foggier, and windier it is here. So when it's actually nice here, as it was on July 4, it's most likely an oven everywhere else. As we passed through Livermore, Tracy, Modesto, on the drive up to the mountains, the thermometer kept rising. When we pulled up at The Bug, it was over 100 degrees...in the shade.

Things move pretty slowly in Bugland, and since our tent cabins were not yet ready (because tent cabins require soooo much cleaning), we had a few beers and followed Aidan to a watering hole only to find that it had nearly dried up. Really, it was just a mosquito brothel, but that didn't stop Aidan from tearing off his cloths and jumping in, bombs away! I can't blame him, it was really hot, but still...after, we drove down to the Modesto River and had a little swim in the gorgeously clear water as the sun was going down.

Water levels in Yosemite are low this year because there was little rain/snow during the rainy season. So the next morning when Aidan proposed that we follow him to a different watering hole, we were dubious to say the least. Temperatures were already over 100 by 10am, and we needed cooling like a pint of ice cream left on the counter. The pressure grew as we got out of the car and leered into the gorge which had no site of water anywhere below. "It'll be worth it," Aidan reassured us in his Irish lilt. How could we be suspicious of that? Sure enough, there was a lovely hole of water at the bottom and we wasted no time jumping in...and jumping off of any and all of the surrounding rocks over and over. Good times.

On Friday, the heat was really getting to us, so we headed up to the safe elevation of Tuolumne Meadows. We spent most of the day lounging at Tenaya Lake, taking in all of the beauty and making fun of all of the hippies (white people with dreadlocks = endless hours of entertainment!) Then we got an ice cream, sat in Tuolomne Meadow and let the "life is good" feeling wash over us. Sigh, it's just so beautiful there.

By Saturday, it had cooled down to a tolerable 90's, but we were heading home to a foggy, frigid city. We'll be back again before the summer's done, I'm sure. In the meantime, some memorable moments...
1)Aine's pooping demonstration at the Happy Burger
2)Game of Taboo, Steph says, "What do you use to call Ireland?" The correct answer is "calling card", Aidan answers, "My accent".
3)The staff at The Bug threatening to charge us corkage for the bottle of wine we brought.
4)Dominick, gay enough for the entire Yosemite Valley.
5)The two brothers from Antioch and their dog Nacho. Classic.

RAGING Waters

Are you a RAGER? Then RAGING Waters is the place for you. The waters there are RAGING. And so are the lines for french fries and dippin' dots. When I think about the prototype person who lives to rage, whose every breath is a breath of exhilaration, RAGING Waters theme park in San Jose, CA is exactly the place where I expect to find this person...shriveling, deteriorating, wilting like a sea urchin crossing a salt field.

It was my idea to go to Raging Waters and I have spent the last 24 hours berating myself for such a poor choice in weekend activity. I thought it would be fun, the way that fireworks are fun even when you're an adult. Then I realized, fireworks really aren't much fun...to the sober adult. And the same rule should most definitely apply at Raging Waters. There are a lot of sad things about Raging Waters, but in my opinion, the saddest was that there was no bar to belly up. In fact, the ticket-taker actually laughed at me when I asked him where the cocktails were. "Those aren't cocktails" he said, spitting through his braces, "Those are yard stick freezies." Whatever that is. Would I need to endure an entire day of raging fun sans mojito? Tragic.

The first thing I learned at Raging Waters was something about myself. And while this lesson won't do me much good out in the world, I suppose I sought out the situation because it was a lesson I really needed to learn. I do not like water slides. I figured this out about 3 seconds after I let go on the first slide. That thing was fast, man. And steep. My stomach was in my mouth, my bathing suit quickly became a wedgy. And I remembered, I'm not so much into speed and heights, or wedgies for that matter. In fact, I pretty much turn to jello when approaching any type of ledge. Brian kept asking me: how could you have just swum from Alcatraz and now wimp out on these slides? I guess I'm just not really a RAGER, Brian.

The second thing I learned at Raging Waters had nothing to do with myself. It was more a commentary on how pathetic Americans can truly be. Do I need to write an editorial about the RAGING obesity issue in America? Or can I just post some choice pictures and let my viewers select their own verbiage to describe what they see? What I learned was that people don't just go to Raging Waters for the slides, they go for the grub. Because that's what love costs, $5.95 for the large sized fries.
Here's the menu at Raging Waters:
Tub of french fries
Pizza (tastes like de-frosted cardboard)
Dippin' Dots
Nachos
Burger
Ice cream

All of these culinary options make an excellent pairing with the bathing suit. And I'd also like to know: after drinking those gallon-sized jugs of cola, where are all of those kids pee-ing? They are pee-ing in the raging water, that's where.

Come to think of it, I actually felt quite a bit of rage while at Raging Waters. But with a little bit of love and lightheartedness from my friends, I still managed to have a pretty ok time.