Simi Valley, rattle snakes, and Sun

San Francisco came and went. A little too fast for me, but the road calls, and the wallet thins. It's not like I am against the clock; no bells tolling the hours, and I certainly don't have anywhere to be, but I guess it is important to see what might be out there to see. I'll just assume for the time being that I don't know everything yet, and I'll go out on a limb and say that the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything is not 42.

The California coast is spectacular. We camped right next to the beach, falling asleep to the sounds the ocean had to offer. I slept quite uncomfortably, but alas, so it goes when you begin sleeping on uneven dirt ground after four nights on a carpet that might as well have been clouds (spacious as the Sahara to boot- not too shabby). Brett and I woke up and traveled to Santa Barbara. Brett skated and I slept in the sand not five feet from the car. I wade in the ocean for a bit, but since no one was around to have a water fight with, I didn't stay long. Certainly I didn't want to splash some little kids just to get beat up by their dads (or moms)... (or the kids). We got to Simi Valley in time for dinner at Brett's Uncle and Aunt's place. A feast for fasters, the food hit the spot. What to do after loosening the belt a notch? Why not slip into the hot tube? Well, with a beer in hand we did just that. I went to sleep early, preparing for the hike into rattler town the next day...


Don't let those late day shadows deceive you and wash away the ridges and sharp terrain of the mountains in the background. Also don't allow the flatness of the two-D image to let you think there was no elevation change. That said, we didn't have a shot in hell to make it up the thing (laziness may have also been a factor...). The hills are also chalk full of rattle snakes. Well, at least one. Maybe. Well, we thought we heard one. Weighing the options and both deciding being killed by a rattle snake would be a pretty cool way to go, we pressed on. And then we pressed off... I wasn't about to suck poison out of Brett's leg, and God knows he'd have been home faster than it took me to hit the dirt had I been bit.

Tonight I got in the hot tube again and just stared at the stars. The city light washes away most of them, but some persevere.

Brett gave me some pointers today, and like Conan O'Brien says, "if life makes you lemons, make some kinda fruity juice." We could all do to take some pointers from Conan.