the daily dub

Cupertino, CA

Traffic on 280, Cupertino, CA

traffic is as traffic does, and every day we go
back to work and back to home, always to and fro.
each in a cage of steel and glass and light.
each full tank of gas fuels the endless fight.

my lane, your lane, merging to and fro;
back and forth, left and right, and always stop and go.
and each day, i stop and think, is there another way?
oh yes, i know, i’ll skateboard every day.

and so it goes, rolling wheels and flexing wood,
i ride to work to do my good.
i spend each day working hard and working long,
until one day, i’ll afford my yard, and join the traffic throng.

Quote of the day:

As I’ve said elsewhere: Nothing is so obvious that it’s obvious. When someone says that something is obvious, it seems almost certain that it is anything but obvious – even to them. The use of the word “obvious” indicates the absence of a logical argument – an attempt to convince the reader by asserting the truth of something by saying it a little louder.

– from the NY Times.

Since my return trip to Lyon’s Lake got weathered out this past weekend, my Dad and I instead opted to go Fly Fishing on Sunday. We headed up the American River to a little known spot on the side of Highway 50.

Really, no sign, no parking (save for the side of the road). I’m sure almost no one knows it’s even there - we had no one bother us all day. There’s this turn in the road, with a “40 mph curve” sign, and right there, bam: Random day-use area. Picnic tables, swimming/fishing hole and everything.

So, at about noon, we setup our rods, and started fishing.

Right off the bat, I had two strikes from what looked and fought like small steelhead trout. I’ve never had one of these on the line before, so the two minutes that I fought each one before they jumped off was pretty exciting.

After that, we had about 5 hours of nothing. No strikes, no fish swimming by, nothing. And then, at 5 o’clock (damn drunk fish), my dad gets a strike from a HUGE rainbow. He barely landed the thing - right as he got it to shore, the fish broke his line. He only got it because the damn thing was so in shock from fighting him, that it just wouldn’t move once it broke the line. Almost going in the water, he was able to grab the end of the line, and yank the fish on shore.

A beautiful, 15″ rainbow trout.

15″ Rainbow Trout caught by my Dad

My Dad with his catch

Too bad we didn’t get to eat it (I was running late to get home, back to Sunnyvale, so I missed out).

Until next time…

Athena came up last weekend for a trip out into Desolation Wilderness. My Uncle and Cousin were already up there as of about 11 am Friday morning. I was still at work…

At about 1pm, I ducked out of work, headed home, and met Athena at my place. She borrowed a pack and quickly packed her stuff up. By the time we were done with lunch and on the road, it was 3pm. Yuck, late start.

As is inevitable with such a late start from the bay area, we hit mondo traffic heading up to Sacramento. We’re talking 4 hours worth of travel on something that should be a 2 hour drive.

We made it to my mom’s house at about 7, ate dinner, and left by about 7:45. That put us at the Lyon’s Creek trailhead at 9:30pm - another late start… it’s all good though - I don’t mind hiking at night as long as I’m not alone.

Almost like she could see the future, Athena dropped in a joke while we were readying ourselves in the steadily increasing cold:

Athena: “wouldn’t that suck if I only had one shoe?”
Ryan: “yea, that’d be terrible…”

Right when she said that, a light went off in my head. where the fuck were my boots?

Frantically searching, I finally came to the inevitable, painful conclusion: I forgot my boots. Completely forgot them. I didn’t just happen to forget I put them in the trunk - oh, no… they were at home. I could see them clearly in my mind’s eye, enjoying their repose on my living room carpet.

fuck me. or, more acurately… fuck it.

I did the 5.25 mile hike from car to camp in my chacos Z/1’s.

And, as a testament to these bad boys (and this is a terribly rocky, difficult hike), we did the hike in 3 hours, at night, with no broken toes, no stubs, and no blisters.

Arriving at the lake at 12:40am was quite different from what I’m used to.. everything is quiet as hell, and even at a whisper, I can hear our voices bouncing all around that lake.

While shining my headlamp around the lake in spot mode, 100 m away, I see my uncle’s blue tent… I wouldn’t have been able to see it with my old Petzl head lamp. Yay Black Diamond lights. Apparently, my voice and my light woke my uncle up. Imagine his surprise to see my girlfriend and I arriving at Lyon’s lake at 12:40am.. and in sandles…

We spent the rest of the weekend being lazy, taking naps, fishing, making awesome breakfasts (scrambled eggs (yes, real eggs) with avocado (yes, real avocado) and hot sauce (you get the idea) the first morning, and 3 fresh-caught trout the second morning), among other things.

The hike out was a little more painful, as I didn’t have Redbull in my bloodstream, and ever-increasing cold to keep me motivated. I did roll my ankles a couple of times, though nothing serious… One thing that did keep me motivated was the thought of the 6 pack of beer, chips, and salsa I had waiting for us in the trunk.

After the hike out, Athena and I both had terribly dirty feet. Yay, wet wipes! We sat down (thank god) with our beer, chips, and wet wipes, and just chilled out, drinking and cleaning out feet for about an hour.

I don’t think we made it home until about 11pm that day… And then we had friends over for drinks. Rock stars!

Check out the photos:

• Lyon’s Lake Trip »
  Desolation Wilderness, September 2007