Observations from the trip thus far...

- Titles of my blog posts may have little to do with subject and content.  For example, the post below titled "Brandon and Emily" barely even mentions them.

- Being sick isn't fun.

- Often, the decision to do something then enables me to do it.

- I like the wide sky.

- If you have a case of "the bla's" that just won't shake; math problems followed by a brisk walk will often do the trick.

- People who don't enjoy the little things don't seem to enjoy the big things very much either.

- New circumstances rarely solve problems.  Almost any issue we have has roots in our own heart, so a change in circumstances (location, job, friends, hobbies, whatever) only makes the problem mutate and shape-shift.

- You can't run from fear or drown out what in your heart.  Eventually, life catches you in a quiet moment, and whisper in your ear everything you are afraid of and don't want to hear.  Fears must be faced, and issues of the heart be brought before the Father for healing.

- Money does not ruin people.  Money is a catylist that more rapidly and candidly exposes pre-existing character.

- Variety makes time slow down.  7 days in 7 different cool locations makes the week feel like a month.

- Time loses meaning when you make somewhere a home.

- Tolls are stupid expensive sometimes; bring lots of quarters.

- Fun things are more fun when shared with the Lord.  Annoyances disappear when you take time to bring it FIRST to God in a short prayer.  Blessings are so much sweeter when you speedily give God the Glory and thanks privately and publicly.  Emotions don't cloud your vision when you take decisions first to Jesus.  Stress takes a hike, brows unfurrow, and shoulder muscles un-knot when we start taking things to the Lord in prayer.  What are you carrying earthly burdens for anyway?  Give them to the One who has conquered this world.



More to come, list started/posted at the request of Mrs. Reale.

Brandon and Emily

On the way to SF I came through a little piece of Napa Valley, and it reminded me of home quite a bit.  Not in visual appearance so much as in smell.  The vineyards smell wonderful, just like at home!  Such a pleasant aroma, sweet like flowers and fresh like pines; mild and soothing, but so present as to almost thicken the air.

Mmmmmm.....




After arriving in SF, I stayed for a week with Brandon Loudermilk and Emily Formosa (sp?) , a week that flew by in a flash, and yet had so much packed into it.  It's been really nice seeing them again, and super that they let me crash with them for an entire week.  (woot-woot!  Thanks guys!) 

I spent the week being a tourist in the city, having a WACKYMADFUN time.  I wandered all over the Hispanic section of the city (The Mission) where everything is so cheap, checking out the stores and the markets and enjoying the food.   

The markets are interesting; some people sell used clothing and other items, others sell crafts and handmade things...

 

others sell second or third hand trades...

...some sell items that one suspects did not come from legitimate sources...

...still others that one KNOWS did not come through legal means.








 There are murals all over San Francisco...

Some commissioned by the city…

SOME NOT...

But there must be thousands of buildings covered with art, so basically wherever you go is interesting. 

24^th street is neat, a lot of cafés, and a lot of cheap food.  How much is a two doughnuts and a coffee at dunkin donuts?  $3, right?  $1.25 on 24^th street.  Three delicious pastries? 68 cents.

Nice.

Public Transit

Driving in the city is not exactly my cup of tea, so I’ve mostly been taking buses, trolleys, and muni-trains everywhere; a week pass is only $28 so I end up saving money anyway.  (Gas + Parking)  A lot of people with the money for taxis distain the buses, and for good reason.  One of the first buses I took (crowded as all get out) a young black chick in back started telling her friend about her now-ex-boyfriend, and she was SO FUNNY that everyone around stopped what they were doing to listen.  Apparently, she and her ex liked to smoke crack together, and somewhere along the line…

“So he tells me, ‘Baby, I’m giving up crack, because it’s time to get a job and live life’ and I’m like ‘GLORY BE boy!  That’s awesome!  My boy gettin sober and being a man.’  To show me he serious, he throw his crackpipe out da window, and it smashes on the sidewalk, and I like ‘Boy, that MY CRACKPIPE, not yours!  You broke it you dumb#$%!  Gimme yours, now that you broke mine.  Just because you quitten don’t mean I don’t want a little now and then.’   So I’s go to the bed all happy as hell that he gonna quit and get a job, and next morning he up early and gone, and I’m still happy til I see that he stole all my crack!  He went sober all right, hell yeah, but he’d stole all my junk and bought hisself a new fur coat!  And THAT was the end of us together.” 

Okay, that seems like a tragic story, and not funny at all, but this gal was hilarious and all of us were in stitches.

…that is until a little old Chinese granny asks her what part of Oakland she’s from, and the chick mis-hears her and thinks the lady was dissing Oakland, and goes BERSERK.  She starts cursing out this old granny, “You talkin **** about my Oakland *****?  **** you *****!!  Oakland my town, and ain’t no one **** with Oakland *****!  ******* *****!!!”  Her friend dragged her off the bus at the next stop, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.  WHEW.  Anyway, that’s the thing about here, you never know what you’re going to get.  (And why snobs snub the muni transport)

San Francisco at last

And soon enough, just over the next hill, was San Francisco.  WHOA!  If I was excited coming into Cali, coming into San Francisco was twice that.  It was dark, and driving over the Golden Gate Bridge into the lit-up city was just flooring; was this real?  Doesn’t this place only exist in movies and video games?  Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi!!  I drove around the city like a hyperactive squirrel with an espresso IV drip, going ga-ga over absolutely everything.  Can this feeling be described?  Okay, I admit it, there was one thing that bothered me; those stupid streets that go up at (what feels like) a 45 degree angle.  Oh sure, they look fun on TV, but when you’re not on the cable-car, they’re pretty annoying—everybody behind you inches up next to your rear bumper like an affectionate dog, so it is absolutely imperative that you don’t roll back one iota.  The person at the top goes, where the stop sign is, so it’s gas, gear and clutch to go forward 10 feet, then it’s clutch, disengage, and parking brake; then next person in line goes and it’s gas, gear, and clutch for another 10 feet, and the process continues until one finds a place to pull over and take the trolley.  :)  Yeah…

San Francisco is especial to me because I remember it from the old movies I watched as a younger kid, and the SF track in the Test Drive 5 video game was one of my favorites.  I know, pretty lame, huh?  I derive my excitement in this place from B movies and video games instead of the culture and history and all other noteworthy aspects of the city.  But that’s not quite true.  The diversity is also way-cool; when I first stepped out onto the 49 bus it was a rush to be hearing Español in one ear, Chinese in the other, and see people of all ages, colors, backgrounds, ways of dressing and talking all in one place.  I mean, Chicago and the other cities have a lot of diversity too, but they don’t mix so easily as here; you’re more likely to go from the Italian district to the Chinese district to the Hispanic district to the Black district, without seeing as much of a blend in any area.  In SF, though the Mission District (where I am) is primarily Hispanic, and there is Chinatown and the like, most districts present a wide range of background, appearance, and lifestyle.  Political diversity there is less of; you won’t find many “Vote Conservative” t-shirts here, but it’s pretty sweet non-the-less.

Anyhow, that’s part of what makes this place so interesting; after so many 96% white, quasi-religious, blindly conservative mid-west towns, it’s fun to talk to people because you never know what this person might be like, be from, or what they think.  (Not bashing white religious conservatism obviously, just anyone who unquestioningly accepts a particular philosophy; political, religious, or otherwise; because that’s everyone around him thinks.)  Even more fun to meet new folks because SF people are indeed friendly; few are unhelpful or unconversational.

Redwoods

Okay, I apologize, I really do.  No blog post in a while, and it’s pitiful.  But I’ve been sitting at this laptop for an hour now, and haven’t typed more than a few sentences.  The past month hasn’t been solely filled with easy fun and blissful memories, and I don’t want to put them to paper yet, either physical or virtual.  Not like the whole time has been serious, on the contrary!  But still, a few, haunting truths stain my desire to write.  It would be easier to lock them away and “move on”, focusing on the pleasant and usual--but that’s not the point of this trip; this is the real world, these are real people, this is real pain, this is real sin, and this is part of what I came out to see.  Yet though I don’t possess any great desire to write, I will make myself, a little at a time, to relate to you some of the happy experiences I’ve had lately, and perhaps some of the less happy later on.  (I.E., shorter posts, greater frequency.)  

Anyway...

 The Redwoods…ahh.  Driving through the “Avenue of the Redwoods” on the way to San Francisco, I came along a broken-down motor home, and spent a few hours helping the folks out, a family and a brother.  The head of the household looked like a handsome Bob Marley, hair and skin color and everything; he traveled with his wife, three children, and brother.  Do I remember their names?  Not really, lol.  :)  Jay was the brother, one of the kids was Jaden, but other than that, no.  You might call them all post-hippies, you might have said they are a little weird, but you could not have called them anything but pleasant.   Lol, they called all of their kids with the prefix of Princess and Prince, I.E., “Time to put on your shoes Prince Jaden”, which totally goes against everything I’ve been told about basic parenting.  But anyhow, we sized up the situation, ate some breakfast, and made a plan.  The general idea was to go with Marley to the nearest cabin camp, rent a cabin, empty my car, go back and load everyone up, bring them back the cabin, and go then go about finding a mechanic.

I'm not kidding, the guy looked just like this -->

(with less wrinkles)

Believe it or not, this family is licensed to grow medicinal reefer, and that’s how they make their living.  (Though of course, the adults all smoke it without prescriptions)  Northern California has a lot of drugs.  So much so, that if you look like you might smoke, friendly people will offer to share a joint or two with you.  It's not like it's hidden or anything; people openly declare how much they like it, how much they grow, or where they buy it.  I guess the cops have bigger fish to fry.   

Case in point, when Marley and I go reserve the cabin and get a few snacks for the kids, the lady at the counter tells us “No pot, no service.”  LOL!

We empty my car, drive back and have fun getting the motorhome off the road, load everyone up, drive to the cabin, pack me up again, and part ways.  (Not before they offered me a friendly amount of weed in gratitude for my help of course.  And were genuinely surprised when I turned them down.  Oy vey.)  Honestly, it was a fun little adventure!  They were nice meet, even if it was just for a few hours.

Did you know that the big producers of medical marijuana are grandmas and grandpas?  The dominant players in the legal field are the illegal pushers of two generations ago.  Marley says he always laughs as ladies with walkers bring in bags and bags of the stuff into medical distribution centers.  These old folks often still have friends still in the police due to old connections, and will get some of the bribeable cops to burn the plants of legitimate competitors if a local market gets too crowded.  (“Oops, we thought they were illegal plants, we didn’t realize they were authorized for medicinal production.”)

Back to the Redwoods, those beautiful, beautiful Redwoods.  They are, if the concept itself can hold water, subtly mind-blowing.  They are not airshows that scare you with their power and wow you with their noise; the Redwood forests are natural, mostly quiet, and almost seem expected or commonplace, with one exception: you don't want to leave.  (or answer your cell phone)  Like the mountains on a sunny day, there's never a good time to leave; fatigue, hunger, thirst, darkness, or great need must be added to the equation before one's mind will even consider the concept.   I did a little walking in and out of these great trees, more impressive than any cathedral, and like every beautiful place I’ve been to I started thinking “I wish I could just put up my tent and live here.”  Is each place really more beautiful than the last?  Have I just forgotten how incredible the last location was?  Or am I simply learning how to better appreciate creation’s majesty...

The forests look like jungles around here.

 Stay tuned, more to come on Friday.  :)

Toward SF

Well....after leaving Corban, I got stuck in a tiny little town called "nowhere". You may recall that the bank changed debit providers, so they re-issued everyone's debit cards, and I picked up mine from Kimberly. Unfortunately, there were some issues with getting it "activated", and as is the danger with a small bank, the sole person who could help me had the day off. So here I am, almost completely out of gas, with no $$ to do anything about it. That's alright, I found a side road, called home to chat with the family, read books, woke up next morning and got everything taken care of, then went along my merry way. :) It was so foggy in this little town that I couldn't see more than 25 yards in any direction, even at 10 am, when the sun had been up for a few hours. It was very surreal and dream-like, because the sun turned the fog almost a golden color. (annoying to drive through though.)

Next stop, Crater Lake. Ever since I saw a picture of Crater Lake on the internet when planning the trip, I've had a hankering to go see it. And for once, my camera was able to capture what I saw. It was beautiful, but I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.

  As you go into the park, you drive through miles of dense forest, but getting closer to the lake, the forest thins and then eventually stops entirely.  Instead of trees, there's a desert. (I'd guess from the volcano) Getting out of the car at Crater Lake is somewhat of a thrill. Instead of stepping on dirt, you step onto sand--feels like the beach!

 
Crater Lake used to be Mt. Mazama, but a long time ago a big volcanic explosion tore a deep enough hole so that lava could pipe it's way up to the surface, and like an imperfect cake, Mt. Mazama belched out it's insides and then fell. True, that would seem to make Crater Lake technically a caldera, rather than a crater, but what's in a name?  Maybe my definition of "crater" is just not wide enough.

I stayed at Crater Lake all afternoon, camped overnight, and left about 11 next morning. When I first got there, it was super-humid, making the ridges on the opposite side of the lake look a hazy blue, only distinguishable as a silhouette. One might think that if they blinked, they could disappear. *Magical* is the word, especially since the island in the middle is called "wizard island". Anyway, it was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I've never seen water so blue, and the rocks are many different colors, sometimes as red as a mars documentary, making the entire place seem other-worldly.

Crater Lake is deceptively big. It's a rough circle, about 5 miles across, and the ring of rock around the outside is way higher than it looks from afar. Yeah, don't fall.

 

The sunset was a prizewinner too. Not for the colors, but just because it displayed the lake in such a good light.

I love cormorants. There are a few diving for food outside my window as I write this; cool animals. And quail. Did I already mention quail? They are so cute! I feel like they came right out of a disney film. I haven't seen any quail in CA, but there were lots a few states back.

In southern OR and northern CA there are a lot of hitch-hikers. I picked up a grizzled old gentleman near the border in OR, and he tried to sell me his weed, which he swore up and down was of the finest quality ("better than anything you'll find in California"). He also warned me to stay out of Eureka, which he said was filled only with drunks, crack-heads, and speedfreaks. (Not quite true, but there are a disproportionate number of them.)  Lol.

And then I crossed the border into Cali! YAY! As I said, I wasn't prepared to feel so excited and elated; I just suddenly was. You aren't allowed to carry specific fruits across the border, to prevent disease, so I had to go through a "fruit inspection" for my car. Somehow that tickles my funny bone.

The road (Highway 101) I was taking wound me right through Redwood National Park. Wow. Redwoods are way cool out here, and the forests they create seem more like jungles. So big, so old (some over 1000 years old), and so GRAND. Unbelievable.

And then, at Crescent City, I saw the ocean. The Pacific Ocean! How cool is that?!? I pulled over the car, called mom and said "Do you hear that sound in the background? That's the ocean!!" Lol, anyway, I dipped my feet in (it's cold), and then went on my merry way.

Right outside of Crescent City, I picked up another hitch-hiker because it was starting to rain, and rode with him down to Arcata. I think his name was Jason, about 45 years old. He'd gone to college and been a professional for a while, but got fed up with rent, jobs, and complex modern life; so he started hitch-hiking around the country, taking employment here and there and hasn't stopped. Jason didn't really know what a GPS was, and since it's clear he is very intelligent, I perceive that he's been a vagabond for quite some time. "One of...those things", he called it.

In Arcada, I stayed Grandma LaDow (Mrs. Liu's mum), which was SUCH A TREAT. Grandma LaDow is a spunky lady, kind beyond words, and a kick in the pants; great to see her. Her other daughter, Debbie, lives next door with her husband Terry, so I got to meet them too, and their son Brandon and his wife Emily. Emily is Italian almost to the T, and talking to her reminded me of some of the Italian-related families in Watkins Glen. On Saturday, she cooked some great lasagna with Deb's special sauce, along with veggies and salad, and my, did it hit the spot. We all watched the baseball game before and after dinner, rooting of course for San Fransisco to go to the World Series, (which they did), and generally had a great time. Especially since desert was Debbie's poundcake, complete with raspberries and vanilla ice cream. Ahhh... (Maybe I should eat lunch before continuing this post; I'm sensing a pattern of caloricentric monologue.)

Okay, I just ate a sandwich, and so hopefully there should be less about food from now on. but no guarantees

 On Friday I went out to see "The Lost Coast" on Grandma LaDow's recommendation, and it is indeed very legit. This part of the coast has so many hills and is so rocky that it was deemed a better idea to bend the highway around this area, thus leaving a nice stretch of uncommercialized and beautiful coast.  The road going through that area is twisty and winds its way up and down and all around so that you can feel like a race-car driver going, like 30mph.  (literally!)  The people in front of me had these cute doggies in the back of their pickup, so I snapped a pic at a stop-sign.

The road doesn't have off-shoots or cross roads except dead ends, just makes a winding ~50 mile stretch all by it's lonesome.  Lonesome in another way too; only a handful of houses over the entire route.  I.E., it's a perfect anti-tourist destination.  :D  They have a bicycle race through here every year, considered one of the most grueling in the nation, so I kept passing (and being passed) by cyclists.  I took a picture of this lady because she was moving a lot faster than most of the guys.

From there, I went through King Range National Conservation Area. Bad idea to do this unless you're on an ATV. The drive was beautiful, but the roads quickly became so bad that I had to proceed entirely in 1st gear, and even then it was difficult. Moreover, the signposts were misleading, and the "road" that was supposed to take me back to the highway was more like a footpath; certainly nothing I could take this little Reno over. So I was lost until I found a visitor map posted on one of the info boards, and eventually exited the conservation area. If you're ever here, it's a nice place to go, but I wouldn't recommend it unless you're hiking or on a real off-road vehicle and have a map.

After church on Sunday, Grandma LaDow took me to the famous Samoa Cookhouse for lunch. It used to be the cookhouse for all the lumberjacks and sawmill workers in the area in the late 1800's and early 1900's, and not much has changed in the building or their manner of service for that matter. They have only 1 thing on the menu, it's called The Meal. :) If you come in the morning, it's breakfast, if afternoon, it's lunch, if evening, it's dinner. There aren't private tables, but rather big, long communal tables seating ten or more each. Your place is set when you get there, and as soon as you sit down, the gals feed you one hearty course right after another, as much as you like. They guess at how much everyone will eat based on how many are at your table, put down the food, and you serve yourself. Pretty cool.

Okay, yes, that was about food again, but that wasn't my point. What I mean to say is that it's a really cool, super-retro kind of place. Grandma and I talked and visited for quite a while which was delightful. (Mrs. Liu, you are so much like your mom.) We mostly chatted about family, but the conversation as varied, and quite enjoyable. Don't know how to put it, except that Grandma LaDow is a really fun person to be around.

L2R: Debbie, Terry, Grandma LaDow, Yours Truly

Anyway, I visited the Lost Coast again on the way out (the sun came out) and am now looking around to see if there are any openings for crabbing. A pastor told me that they're hiring around here in a couple weeks, and that they pay well. If nothing turns up, I'll start snooping around in San Fransisco.  'Til next time!

Corban

Guess what?  I'M IN CALIFORNIA!!!    Yay!

Yah, it's pretty legit.  I didn't know that I wanted to go to California, it was just another cool state to visit; but somehow I drove across the border into huge Redwoods and then down to the ocean, and just went ecstatic!  It's still giving me chills.  :-)  Why am I excited to be here?  I don't know.  I just am.  Wheeeeee!  Anyhow, in this post I'm just going to go back to Corban, because