Well it's been a little while since my last post, and I apologize for that. But, since I believe that very few people have endured my writing this summer, I will have not disappointed many peeps. But for the brave few who continue to read on, I thank you for your support!
Anyway, I'm currently in Moab, Utah, in a cool little cafe/second-hand bookstore on main street. Ready for some canoing! Actually, I messed up majorly. Ok, so the canoe trip launches August 1st right. For some reason I had believed that there were only 30 days in July, and so thought the trip was set to leave tomorrow instead of Friday. So I'm here a day early, with nothing much to do other than hang out and melt on the sidewalk cause it's so damn hot.
Ooooh, I also have another thing to mention that may make you question my status as an intelligent adult. While in California I went on an awesome wine tour in Amador County. The wine tours out here are very different from the ones back East. They give you as much wine as you want here. There's no $5 for 3 tastings or anything like that. You walk up to the bar (but for the love of God don't call it a bar or they will be on to you), ask for a glass, and drink away. Free of charge! Unless you want to try some of the premium wines (psssshhh). For all the wine lovers out there, if you have not come to California for a wine tasting: get off your ass.
But the point I am trying to make is that, having unlimited quantities of wine for tasting, for some reason, affects my judgment. I know, I don't get it either. So I start buying lots of bottles of wine. By the end, I have a baker's dozen of wine, and am feeling good about the world I live in. A good state of mind to be in.
Now that is not necessarily a bad thing; having lots of wine, that is. It can only be bad when you have nowhere to store said wine while driving through some of the hottest parts of the country. Wine does not like heat and dryness, two things you get a lot in Utah. If I went on the canoe trip and just left the wine in the car all week, the wine would certainly no longer win any Amador County gold ribbons, and most likely be undrinkable. Fuck me.
But I don't like flushing $200 down the toilet. I prefer to drink my money. There must be some way I can salvage the wine. Think outside the box.
Well it turned out it wasn't that hard to find a place. I just drove to the canoe outfitters whom we are renting the canoes from and asked one of the guys at the place if I could keep some wine here inside. Without even hesitating he said "yeah suuure bring it on in!". Haha it was almost like he had been in this exact situation before himself and was eager to complete his karmic duty of reciprocity. I've come across so many nice people on my trip. It's really uplifting I have to say.
So that's solved so I'm just hanging out waiting for the other to arrive tomorrow. I spent last night in Salt Lake City. Awwwwesome city. I explored the downtown area, and went to the Clark Planeterium and saw a laser-light dome show featuring U2 music. Salt Lake City is a nice place. Clean, wide streets, good public transportation, lots of parking (free parking, no less), lots of cozy cafes for the weary travelers out there. I wish I had more time to spend there to get the full experience.
Oh, I and spent last weekend up on the "lost coast" of the very northern part of California near Eureka and Crescent city. I went to Redwoods National Forest and saw the huge redwoods. The largest tree in the world is 380 feet tall... !!! The trees were so tall it was really hard to see the tops from the base of the trunks. You know how when you're on a very straight road and in the distance it looks like the two sides of the roads are converging on each other and eventually meet and disappear? Now change your perspective to vertical and think of trees and you'll know what it was like.
I'd been wanting to camp on a beach for a long time and finally had the opportunity at Gold Bluffs Beach in Redwood National Forest. Well, the campsite was actually on the beach exactly. It was on a site right next to the beach, which really pissed me off once I got there. 15 bucks and I don't even get to sleep on some sand? F that. I pitched my tent at the campsite and then grabbed the rest of my stuff and set up on the beach about a quarter mile from the campsite. I brought some goat cheese and some bread to snack on, and a bottle of wine, which I proceeded to drink the entirety of. Yeah it was an awesome night haha. I woke up the next morning with my face in the sand though. I guess I tossed and turned during the night.
So the past few days have been going by really fast. I'll be heading out on the canoe trip as I said on Friday where I will have no access to the internet, cell phones, society... ahhhhhh.
I've also uploaded more pics from Safan Ranch.
3 more weeks and I'll be back! I can't believe it!
Take care everyone.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Life at Safan Ranch
Hey y'all hope y'all is doin' jus' fine. I've spent the past week on the farm so I'm trying to speak like a farmer. Though, that is more of a southern thing I just did. You know what I mean. Shut up!
I don't even know where to begin in telling you what's going on here. So much has happened and the days have been go by so fast it's almost too much to organize into a flowing, coherent narrative. I'll just do some stream of consciousness writing, how's that?
First thing that comes to mind: I'm learning a hell of a lot. I started from scratch, almost, when it comes to gardening, so pretty much everything I've seen here has improved my knowledge on that front... what arugula leaves look like, what basil and sage plants look like, what are weeds in the garden and what non-vegetable producing plants keep the pests away. I know when a tomatillo is ripe and when to harvest all forms of squash. I've also picked up a lot of cooking tips from Steve, the head honcho here. He is a foodie and knows so much about how to cook good food it's insane. I plan on making some of my own ricotta cheese when I get back because of him, that's for sure. And it's not even that hard!
I've also learned about various animals. I know the various functions of having guinea fowl on a farm. I know what purpose chickens serve besides the obvious functions of eggs and meat. I know how to milk goats and what to feed pigs (everything!). I know the different calls of the various fowls and what they mean. Fascinating stuff. Seriously.
So it has been an informational binge, so to speak. It's also been really nice to be in one place for more than a few days. It's a rather large property here on Safan Ranch. I have my own trailer complete with a "bed" and a seating area.
I don't know how to describe this place. It's a farm/ranch, no doubt. There is a chicken coop, a couple of large gardens, a pig pen, pasture for the goats, etc. But it's also an art gallery, believe it or not. The head guy here Steve is really into art and lets artists come here and do whatever they please to the land. Especially urban artists (i.e. graffitists). All of the residential trailers on the property are completely covered in artsy-style graffiti. The barn is covered in graffiti. The house is covered in graffiti. Various wood sculptures are carved into trees. It's really cool. You'll have to see the pictures to know what I'm talking about. Unfortunately I can't upload them at the moment since there is limited bandwidth here on the ranch, but you'll see.
And also, I should say, there is much drama going on here. The two people who run the ranch have been a monogamous couple for the past 14 years, but have recently split up (within the past month, from what I hear). Apparently, from what I hear through the grapevine, the guy Steve started seeing this woman on the side without letting Angela (his official girlfriend/companion) know. It all was revealed at some point a month or so ago and it has been, more or less, chaos since. They bicker over everything, but it's mainly Angela who picks the fights it seems. But after finding out your partner of 14 years is suddenly seeing another woman, I can understand the frustration and even the visceral anger she seems to have for him. I can't even begin to fathom what she must be feeling towards him. 14 years is a long time.
So that story has been going on. There also has been some drama amongst the other WOOFers here. A WOOFer is a volunteer here at the farm, like myself. There are 4 or 5 of us here now, with people coming and going all the time. I'm getting along with everyone pretty well. I've been pretty quiet most of the time. I seem to talk very little when I'm in a new environment I've noticed. Brain overload from new things being learned? Who knows.
But anyway there has been some drama between Anna and Johnnie. Apparently they hooked up one night and it has been weird between them ever since. Sex tends to do that to people sometimes.
So yeah, it's been a very strange time here so far. I don't quite know how to categorize it yet. Or maybe I shouldn't. I feel the experience of living here is its own category.
I finally got the day off today and went on a wine tour! No, not in Napa or Sonoma. I went to a few of the wineries here in the area in Amador County. They've got some great wines here! Lots of excellent Zinfadels and Barberas that are harder to find on the east coast. I bought a case of wine from various places here so anyone who wants to try some I can hook you up.
I've got another week here and my thinking is that it should go extremely fast. Between my daily chores and the 10 hours of sleep I've been getting daily, I'll be out of here in no time! Ready for my canoe trip in Moab! Mooooooaaaaaabbbb!
Peace.
I don't even know where to begin in telling you what's going on here. So much has happened and the days have been go by so fast it's almost too much to organize into a flowing, coherent narrative. I'll just do some stream of consciousness writing, how's that?
First thing that comes to mind: I'm learning a hell of a lot. I started from scratch, almost, when it comes to gardening, so pretty much everything I've seen here has improved my knowledge on that front... what arugula leaves look like, what basil and sage plants look like, what are weeds in the garden and what non-vegetable producing plants keep the pests away. I know when a tomatillo is ripe and when to harvest all forms of squash. I've also picked up a lot of cooking tips from Steve, the head honcho here. He is a foodie and knows so much about how to cook good food it's insane. I plan on making some of my own ricotta cheese when I get back because of him, that's for sure. And it's not even that hard!
I've also learned about various animals. I know the various functions of having guinea fowl on a farm. I know what purpose chickens serve besides the obvious functions of eggs and meat. I know how to milk goats and what to feed pigs (everything!). I know the different calls of the various fowls and what they mean. Fascinating stuff. Seriously.
So it has been an informational binge, so to speak. It's also been really nice to be in one place for more than a few days. It's a rather large property here on Safan Ranch. I have my own trailer complete with a "bed" and a seating area.
I don't know how to describe this place. It's a farm/ranch, no doubt. There is a chicken coop, a couple of large gardens, a pig pen, pasture for the goats, etc. But it's also an art gallery, believe it or not. The head guy here Steve is really into art and lets artists come here and do whatever they please to the land. Especially urban artists (i.e. graffitists). All of the residential trailers on the property are completely covered in artsy-style graffiti. The barn is covered in graffiti. The house is covered in graffiti. Various wood sculptures are carved into trees. It's really cool. You'll have to see the pictures to know what I'm talking about. Unfortunately I can't upload them at the moment since there is limited bandwidth here on the ranch, but you'll see.
And also, I should say, there is much drama going on here. The two people who run the ranch have been a monogamous couple for the past 14 years, but have recently split up (within the past month, from what I hear). Apparently, from what I hear through the grapevine, the guy Steve started seeing this woman on the side without letting Angela (his official girlfriend/companion) know. It all was revealed at some point a month or so ago and it has been, more or less, chaos since. They bicker over everything, but it's mainly Angela who picks the fights it seems. But after finding out your partner of 14 years is suddenly seeing another woman, I can understand the frustration and even the visceral anger she seems to have for him. I can't even begin to fathom what she must be feeling towards him. 14 years is a long time.
So that story has been going on. There also has been some drama amongst the other WOOFers here. A WOOFer is a volunteer here at the farm, like myself. There are 4 or 5 of us here now, with people coming and going all the time. I'm getting along with everyone pretty well. I've been pretty quiet most of the time. I seem to talk very little when I'm in a new environment I've noticed. Brain overload from new things being learned? Who knows.
But anyway there has been some drama between Anna and Johnnie. Apparently they hooked up one night and it has been weird between them ever since. Sex tends to do that to people sometimes.
So yeah, it's been a very strange time here so far. I don't quite know how to categorize it yet. Or maybe I shouldn't. I feel the experience of living here is its own category.
I finally got the day off today and went on a wine tour! No, not in Napa or Sonoma. I went to a few of the wineries here in the area in Amador County. They've got some great wines here! Lots of excellent Zinfadels and Barberas that are harder to find on the east coast. I bought a case of wine from various places here so anyone who wants to try some I can hook you up.
I've got another week here and my thinking is that it should go extremely fast. Between my daily chores and the 10 hours of sleep I've been getting daily, I'll be out of here in no time! Ready for my canoe trip in Moab! Mooooooaaaaaabbbb!
Peace.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
California Love
Well I finally made it. I'm here in California, and have been here for the last 2 days. A weird place, but not in a bad way.
I spent Friday evening in Hollywood and walked up and down the famous Boulevard. I haven't seen any of the blockbuster movies this summer yet so I decided what better place to see my first summer movie than Hollywood? At the Mann Chinese Theater no less. The theater was really cool, but smaller than I had imagined for some reason. And there was a whole bunch of people in costume outside the theater who you could take pictures with (for a small price, of course). I noticed that, since the 3rd movie, Spider Man had gotten a beer gut. There was also a crazy guy in a Jesus shirt telling everyone that they were going to hell, and a couple of monks in full-robe from who knows what religion/cult performing some strange chantings complemented with a stringed instrument I had never seen before. All under flashing neon lights.
Like I said, strange place.
But that was fun. After the movie I drove about an hour north up towards San Fran and slept in my car at a rest stop. The hotel prices in CA are INsane. $95 for a Motel 6. A MOTEL 6! Good god man. How about I sleep in your parking lot for free and pirate your Wi-Fi instead?? The non-chain hotels are even more expensive.
But anyway, I drove up the famous route 1 road along the coast yesterday. There were some great views and it was fun to drive around the tight corners overhanging the cliffs. That is, until, I came upon a roadblock an hour south of San Fran. The road was closed (and all the campsites along the road too) because of the wildfires raging here. The cop said that the fires reached all the way to the coast and had burned up some of the road along route 1. Damn. Not to mention all the homes destroyed, people displaced... some 50,000 acres of land destroyed the cop told me. It's hard to get my mind around a figure that large. Crazy crazy stuff.
But what that meant was that I had to go the way back the way I had just come. Route 1 is a rather isolated road with very few out-letting roads back to the main 101 highway a little ways inland. Great now I won't make it to San Fran this evening. I backtracked 4 miles and made a turn onto a road heading to highway 101. But because this part of the coast is basically a road sandwiched between the ocean and mountains, turning back inland meant that I had to climb through the mountains to get to the other side. The road was straight uphill, windy, and very very long. It was kinda cool, but the fact that I was being delayed detracted from my enjoyment somewhat.
Anyway, 4 hours later than I had expected, I had made it back to highway 101. By this time it was already dark. I slept in my car in the parking lot of a Sheraton hotel. Not a bad night's sleep actually. Today I drove through San Fran and am currently in Sacramento in a Greek cafe. The farm is not too far from here so I am going to spend the night here and drive to the farm in the morning. Yay!
I'll be at the farm for the next two weeks, with limited access to the internet, so I wanted to post before I go. I'll probably post again in the coming week, but who knows. It is a farm, after all.
Oh, and I may or may not have pierced a certain part of my head while in Hollywood.
Like I said, crazy place.
Peace!
I spent Friday evening in Hollywood and walked up and down the famous Boulevard. I haven't seen any of the blockbuster movies this summer yet so I decided what better place to see my first summer movie than Hollywood? At the Mann Chinese Theater no less. The theater was really cool, but smaller than I had imagined for some reason. And there was a whole bunch of people in costume outside the theater who you could take pictures with (for a small price, of course). I noticed that, since the 3rd movie, Spider Man had gotten a beer gut. There was also a crazy guy in a Jesus shirt telling everyone that they were going to hell, and a couple of monks in full-robe from who knows what religion/cult performing some strange chantings complemented with a stringed instrument I had never seen before. All under flashing neon lights.
Like I said, strange place.
But that was fun. After the movie I drove about an hour north up towards San Fran and slept in my car at a rest stop. The hotel prices in CA are INsane. $95 for a Motel 6. A MOTEL 6! Good god man. How about I sleep in your parking lot for free and pirate your Wi-Fi instead?? The non-chain hotels are even more expensive.
But anyway, I drove up the famous route 1 road along the coast yesterday. There were some great views and it was fun to drive around the tight corners overhanging the cliffs. That is, until, I came upon a roadblock an hour south of San Fran. The road was closed (and all the campsites along the road too) because of the wildfires raging here. The cop said that the fires reached all the way to the coast and had burned up some of the road along route 1. Damn. Not to mention all the homes destroyed, people displaced... some 50,000 acres of land destroyed the cop told me. It's hard to get my mind around a figure that large. Crazy crazy stuff.
But what that meant was that I had to go the way back the way I had just come. Route 1 is a rather isolated road with very few out-letting roads back to the main 101 highway a little ways inland. Great now I won't make it to San Fran this evening. I backtracked 4 miles and made a turn onto a road heading to highway 101. But because this part of the coast is basically a road sandwiched between the ocean and mountains, turning back inland meant that I had to climb through the mountains to get to the other side. The road was straight uphill, windy, and very very long. It was kinda cool, but the fact that I was being delayed detracted from my enjoyment somewhat.
Anyway, 4 hours later than I had expected, I had made it back to highway 101. By this time it was already dark. I slept in my car in the parking lot of a Sheraton hotel. Not a bad night's sleep actually. Today I drove through San Fran and am currently in Sacramento in a Greek cafe. The farm is not too far from here so I am going to spend the night here and drive to the farm in the morning. Yay!
I'll be at the farm for the next two weeks, with limited access to the internet, so I wanted to post before I go. I'll probably post again in the coming week, but who knows. It is a farm, after all.
Oh, and I may or may not have pierced a certain part of my head while in Hollywood.
Like I said, crazy place.
Peace!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Donation to Excess
This is how I think of Las Vegas.
People from all over the world come to donate their money to the casinos of Las Vegas. Donate, of course, is not the term used. Gamble is the more popular term. But it might as well be a donation. The house will always win, in the long run. It's a mathematical certainty. People, in effect are giving their money away. Instead of a warm feeling of having helped someone and a tax deduction, the return value of a Las Vegas donation is entertainment. Merriment. Gaeity. A jolly good time.
Of course, there are the lucky few who come to Vegas and who spurn the odds and revel in the mathematics of the short run, leaving the desert with more money than they had arrived with. A beautiful thing.
I was on my way to Las Vegas Thursday from Flagstaff, AZ. Vegas was only 5 hours away, and I thought since I was so close and I had time that I would stop by to see the sights. I'd been there before but there's way too much to do on just one visit.
But on my way, I realized my heart wasn't into it. I don't like to gamble, perhaps exactly because of my statistics background, and I was feeling tired. Walking on the strip with a whole bunch of crazies didn't seem so interesting at the time. But I was already half way there, and it was getting dark. Not much else around in the desert, and I didn't want to go back. What can I do?
It was then that I had an idea. An idea whose origin had two sources. The first was a story in the book Freakonomics. The author, Steven Leavitt, was invited by a close friend to go to a Chicago Bulls game one day. Not being a basketball fan, Leavitt wasn't really interested in going to the game since he had no interest in the outcome. But instead of turning his friend down, he came up with a scheme for altering his attitude. He proceeded to place a large bet on the game (that the Bulls would win I believe). Now he was very interested to see the outcome of the game, to say the least, and happily joined his friend. He didn't change his attitude toward the game itself, but rather his economic tie to it.
The second source was this story I heard about this guy from England who decided to sell everything he owned, including the clothes on his back, and place it all on one roulette bet. His entire life. Just one bet. Now that's balls.
These two stories floating in my head, I made a decision. I was going to place a large bet, just one, on a game of roulette. If I lost, I would continue on, pissed off at myself for doing such a stupid thing. But if I won, oooooo if I won, I would have myself an awesome night and stay in an expensive hotel room somewhere on the strip.
It worked. As soon as I made that decision I was really looking forward to Vegas. My attitude had changed. I wasn't dreading it as just another requisite stop on my tour of the West. I was looking forward to my bet. I put a lot thought into it. What was I going to bet on? Red or black?
In my pondering I looked over to the mountains and saw the sunset. The red sunset. Well, that was easy.
I got to Vegas around 9:30 PM. Lights, people, everywhere. The traffic was slow-going, but it didn't matter. There was plenty of brightly-lit, eye candy to gaze upon. Oooooo purty lights.
For one reason or another I decided to place my bet at the Paris casino. If I happen to lose, c'est la vie, hein? On my way to the casino floor, I realized I hadn't decided on the amount of my bet. $300 came to mind. Perfect. My heart was pumping.
I got my money from the ATM, and searched for my table. I found one that had an older couple laughing away. Seemed like the place to stop. I handed the dealer (?? do you still call the person doing the roulette machine a dealer or is there some other name) my $300 and asked for the chips. He started counting out $5 and $10 chips, but I stopped him, and asked him for the largest value chips I could get.
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Yep."
He handed me 3 $100 chips. Apparently for chips of this amount he had to inform his pit boss. I don't know why. $100 chips aren't really that large, are they? By Vegas standards anyways. Oh well. Protocol must be followed.
"Cashing 3 $100's at table 6!", the dealer-spinner person yelled. The pit boss looked at me for a fraction of a second, and then back to the dealer. He nodded. The older couple didn't say anything, too busy planning their betting scheme for the next play.
I shuffled the chips on red. My heart was racing a bit. I felt the thrill. Thrill is just a hybrid of excitement and stupidity, I remember thinking. What the hell was I doing??
Too late, the ball was already spinning. My heart was drag-racing now. Man, how could that one guy place his whole life on one bet?? I'm only betting $300 and I'm shaking. RED! REEEED!!!
At this point the older couple noticed my bet. They seemed more worried than excited for me. But they joined in with me: "Come on red!! Let's go reeeed here we go now!" Even the dealer joined in. It was cool.
The ball started searching for its resting place. It was very undecisive. It kept on jumping in and out. For those few seconds everything going on around me didn't matter at all. My complete focus was on that little fucking ball. Stop already!!
And then it fell...
Even though I was watching it intently, I didn't where the ball landed. From my vantage point, there was a blind area on the roulette wheel (the area that was closest to my body). It was until the dealer shouted it out that I knew...
"RED 36!!!"
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
There was shouting. Fist-pumping. High-fiving of older people who didn't quite know how to high five. AT THE SAME TIME.
Heeeeellllllsss YEAAAAHHH!!! I'm sleeping on the strip toooniiiight! I'm sleeping on the strip tooooniiiiight!!!
The dealer dropped another three $100 chips next to mine and gave a soft "Congratulations, sir." I immediately swept them up and headed to the cashier to get my hard-earned money. Haha. Hard-earned my ass.
So I decided to treat myself. I walked the strip a bit and decided on the Bellagio as my resting place for the night. $200 per night. "Do you have anything more fancy?" I asked, hoping to blow my entire $300 in one shot. Turns out, believe it or not, they do. I know, who would have guessed right? And if you're willing to spend $800 a night, you can find out exactly how fancy those rooms are.
"I'll take the $200 room, thanks."
The room still was the best room I've ever stayed in. Marriott corporate rooms eat your heart out. After dropping off my stuff in the room I started walking the strip. What a beeeeeeaaaauuutiful night!!!!! Hi there illegal Mexican workers handing out fliers for prostitutes! No I don't want one but thanks have a great night!
Awesome night. The next day I treated myself to the AMAZING lunch buffet they have at the Bellagio. Seriously, that was some of the best food I've ever had in my life. Mmmmmmmmm.
I've thought a lot about what would have happened if I had lost that bet. It's hard to imagine, really. Since I did win, I look at the bet in a very positive way: yeah, well, even if I had lost the money I would have been ok with it because I took a chance and that took a lot of chutzpah and it's only money. Most likely though, I would have been incredibly mad with myself for doing something so stupid and would have been sleeping in my car the rest of the trip. Fuck Vegas, and everything that glows for that matter, my motto would have been.
Such is the way of things. There are not always diametrically opposed potential outcomes, but choice and consequence are always multi-faceted, under the rule of chance. To quote from one of my favorite books:
"If our method of reasoning is to reflect life, it needs to embrace uncertainty, since that, above all else, is our lot."
Choice is the enactment. Our response is the consummation.
Viva Las Vegas.
People from all over the world come to donate their money to the casinos of Las Vegas. Donate, of course, is not the term used. Gamble is the more popular term. But it might as well be a donation. The house will always win, in the long run. It's a mathematical certainty. People, in effect are giving their money away. Instead of a warm feeling of having helped someone and a tax deduction, the return value of a Las Vegas donation is entertainment. Merriment. Gaeity. A jolly good time.
Of course, there are the lucky few who come to Vegas and who spurn the odds and revel in the mathematics of the short run, leaving the desert with more money than they had arrived with. A beautiful thing.
I was on my way to Las Vegas Thursday from Flagstaff, AZ. Vegas was only 5 hours away, and I thought since I was so close and I had time that I would stop by to see the sights. I'd been there before but there's way too much to do on just one visit.
But on my way, I realized my heart wasn't into it. I don't like to gamble, perhaps exactly because of my statistics background, and I was feeling tired. Walking on the strip with a whole bunch of crazies didn't seem so interesting at the time. But I was already half way there, and it was getting dark. Not much else around in the desert, and I didn't want to go back. What can I do?
It was then that I had an idea. An idea whose origin had two sources. The first was a story in the book Freakonomics. The author, Steven Leavitt, was invited by a close friend to go to a Chicago Bulls game one day. Not being a basketball fan, Leavitt wasn't really interested in going to the game since he had no interest in the outcome. But instead of turning his friend down, he came up with a scheme for altering his attitude. He proceeded to place a large bet on the game (that the Bulls would win I believe). Now he was very interested to see the outcome of the game, to say the least, and happily joined his friend. He didn't change his attitude toward the game itself, but rather his economic tie to it.
The second source was this story I heard about this guy from England who decided to sell everything he owned, including the clothes on his back, and place it all on one roulette bet. His entire life. Just one bet. Now that's balls.
These two stories floating in my head, I made a decision. I was going to place a large bet, just one, on a game of roulette. If I lost, I would continue on, pissed off at myself for doing such a stupid thing. But if I won, oooooo if I won, I would have myself an awesome night and stay in an expensive hotel room somewhere on the strip.
It worked. As soon as I made that decision I was really looking forward to Vegas. My attitude had changed. I wasn't dreading it as just another requisite stop on my tour of the West. I was looking forward to my bet. I put a lot thought into it. What was I going to bet on? Red or black?
In my pondering I looked over to the mountains and saw the sunset. The red sunset. Well, that was easy.
I got to Vegas around 9:30 PM. Lights, people, everywhere. The traffic was slow-going, but it didn't matter. There was plenty of brightly-lit, eye candy to gaze upon. Oooooo purty lights.
For one reason or another I decided to place my bet at the Paris casino. If I happen to lose, c'est la vie, hein? On my way to the casino floor, I realized I hadn't decided on the amount of my bet. $300 came to mind. Perfect. My heart was pumping.
I got my money from the ATM, and searched for my table. I found one that had an older couple laughing away. Seemed like the place to stop. I handed the dealer (?? do you still call the person doing the roulette machine a dealer or is there some other name) my $300 and asked for the chips. He started counting out $5 and $10 chips, but I stopped him, and asked him for the largest value chips I could get.
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Yep."
He handed me 3 $100 chips. Apparently for chips of this amount he had to inform his pit boss. I don't know why. $100 chips aren't really that large, are they? By Vegas standards anyways. Oh well. Protocol must be followed.
"Cashing 3 $100's at table 6!", the dealer-spinner person yelled. The pit boss looked at me for a fraction of a second, and then back to the dealer. He nodded. The older couple didn't say anything, too busy planning their betting scheme for the next play.
I shuffled the chips on red. My heart was racing a bit. I felt the thrill. Thrill is just a hybrid of excitement and stupidity, I remember thinking. What the hell was I doing??
Too late, the ball was already spinning. My heart was drag-racing now. Man, how could that one guy place his whole life on one bet?? I'm only betting $300 and I'm shaking. RED! REEEED!!!
At this point the older couple noticed my bet. They seemed more worried than excited for me. But they joined in with me: "Come on red!! Let's go reeeed here we go now!" Even the dealer joined in. It was cool.
The ball started searching for its resting place. It was very undecisive. It kept on jumping in and out. For those few seconds everything going on around me didn't matter at all. My complete focus was on that little fucking ball. Stop already!!
And then it fell...
Even though I was watching it intently, I didn't where the ball landed. From my vantage point, there was a blind area on the roulette wheel (the area that was closest to my body). It was until the dealer shouted it out that I knew...
"RED 36!!!"
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
There was shouting. Fist-pumping. High-fiving of older people who didn't quite know how to high five. AT THE SAME TIME.
Heeeeellllllsss YEAAAAHHH!!! I'm sleeping on the strip toooniiiight! I'm sleeping on the strip tooooniiiiight!!!
The dealer dropped another three $100 chips next to mine and gave a soft "Congratulations, sir." I immediately swept them up and headed to the cashier to get my hard-earned money. Haha. Hard-earned my ass.
So I decided to treat myself. I walked the strip a bit and decided on the Bellagio as my resting place for the night. $200 per night. "Do you have anything more fancy?" I asked, hoping to blow my entire $300 in one shot. Turns out, believe it or not, they do. I know, who would have guessed right? And if you're willing to spend $800 a night, you can find out exactly how fancy those rooms are.
"I'll take the $200 room, thanks."
The room still was the best room I've ever stayed in. Marriott corporate rooms eat your heart out. After dropping off my stuff in the room I started walking the strip. What a beeeeeeaaaauuutiful night!!!!! Hi there illegal Mexican workers handing out fliers for prostitutes! No I don't want one but thanks have a great night!
Awesome night. The next day I treated myself to the AMAZING lunch buffet they have at the Bellagio. Seriously, that was some of the best food I've ever had in my life. Mmmmmmmmm.
I've thought a lot about what would have happened if I had lost that bet. It's hard to imagine, really. Since I did win, I look at the bet in a very positive way: yeah, well, even if I had lost the money I would have been ok with it because I took a chance and that took a lot of chutzpah and it's only money. Most likely though, I would have been incredibly mad with myself for doing something so stupid and would have been sleeping in my car the rest of the trip. Fuck Vegas, and everything that glows for that matter, my motto would have been.
Such is the way of things. There are not always diametrically opposed potential outcomes, but choice and consequence are always multi-faceted, under the rule of chance. To quote from one of my favorite books:
"If our method of reasoning is to reflect life, it needs to embrace uncertainty, since that, above all else, is our lot."
Choice is the enactment. Our response is the consummation.
Viva Las Vegas.
The Misadventures of Chris: Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Trailhead to Toe
Mooooore downhill. God what was I thinking? I could be resting right now. No no no, that is exactly why you are doing this, to push yourself beyond what you normally would do. To find out something new. To engage your own mind at its extreme… yeah, sounds all well and good but, in the moment, the extreme sucks.
But the point is I carried on. Before I knew it I was a couple miles away from the campsite anyway, so it wouldn’t make much sense to turn back anyway. Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’…
Now my feet were killing me. The blisters were really hurting me now, my right foot particularly bad. I didn’t want to take off my shoes and socks and let them dry though. I didn’t have the time, and plus I thought that if I stopped and sat down for awhile, my muscles would freeze up and that would be it.
So I continue on. I hit a particularly steep downhill section, and occasionally found myself trotting down the trail because of my downward momentum. Down and down I go and in the distance… what’s that? The sky? It looks blue. Is there a big dropoff? As I got closer and closer, my perspective changed but still I couldn’t make out what it was. It was only when I practically was there that I realized it was, in fact, a lake. I walked down to the edge, curious. The path just seemed to stop at the water’s edge. I looked around for any possible alternative route. None. I checked the map. Wait there’s not supposed to be a…
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK!!!!
I lost it. I yelled out FUCK several times. I told the lake to go fuck itself. Threw rocks and sticks in it. And just shouted out other nonsensical vocalizations. Somehow I had gone off the path… but how? I kept following the same path from the campsite? There were no turns, were there??
Knowing that I probably was not being asked by the powers that be at Smoky Mountain Park to swim through the lake, I began backtracking. Not just backtracking. Backtrackin uphill. It was steep. I was tired. Stupid gravity. Damn you relentless laws of physics.
I looked from left to right to see if there were any other paths. I eventually came across what looked like a path to my right. It was narrow, but definitely a path. I looked around for a sign, and finally found one, its visual path blocked by a tree. When I hike I mostly look down at what’s in front of me so that I won’t trip or roll my ankle. In doing so, I missed the sign and continued on. But it bothered me… you have to turn to stay on the correct trail?? What the hell is that about?? Bah!
The only good news was that I had gone only a mile, maybe a mile and half out of the way. Add up both ways and that’s 2 to 3 miles. Bad, yes, but if could have been much worse considering the state I was in.
So I turn onto the trail to stay on the trail I was already on, and soon after see another sign saying that I was only 2.6 miles from the trailhead. I remember reading that sign and feeling rejuvenated. I was going to do it. 2.6 miles is nothing. An hour maybe. The happiness from seeing that sign would surely be enough fuel for me to finish the hike alive.
Not a few steps from the sign and I hear a clap of thunder. Then another. Several in succession. The clouds were doing their own version of Stomp. It was really dark out now, and the wind was picking up. Shit. I put down my pack to begin my waterproofing process. I read that it did rain a lot in the Smokies, especially at the peaks, so I made sure to bring a poncho with me. The backpack I had came with a waterproof cover that could be wrapped around it as well. If it rained, it would be an inconvenience for sure, but I could manage.
But as if I put my pack down on the rain button, it started pouring as soon as it touched the ground. Not just pouring. It was torrential. The kind of rain where you can’t see but a few feet in front of you. I scrambled through the pack to find the poncho. Where the hell is it??? I reached down, grabbing for anything that felt rubbery. My cooking pot fell out onto the ground. Shit! I found the poncho and put in on, and then stuffed the pot back in, it’s handle now sticking out from the top. Reaching around in my bag, I had shifted items from their carefully packaged positions, and now the pot didn’t fit into the puzzle anymore. Fuck it, it’s just the handle. I quickly covered my pack as well in its waterproof layer, but it was already soaked. Lovely.
When I was waterproofed I stood up, and looked around me for a little bit. It was a really cool setting actually. From a distance, the torrential rain looked like mist instead of water, and so it looked like the woods were foggy and mysterious. I thought wow this is awesome. This is nature, man.
That feeling of communion with nature lasted about 5 seconds. It was before I realized that I had to hike in this. I was still going downhill, and the rain had turned the trail into rivers. The trail was no longer solid, and my feet stuck in the ground a little bit, making each step that much more difficult. And my feet, oh god my feet, were screaming in pain. The fresh water felt like acid for some reason. As I was walking I felt one of my blisters burst on the second toe of my right foot, and it began throbbing in unbelievable pain. Jeez I didn’t know blisters could hurt that much. The next few steps were agonizing, but I didn’t care. I had to continue. How could I stop now? In the middle of the trail in the rain I’d set up a tent and call it a night?
The rain had no plans to stop. My face turned into a permanent grimace. The pain in my foot, though still potent, eventually faded as my body grew used to it. My pace had considerably slowed, so I had no idea how long it was going to take. In my condition I lost track of how long I had been walking and what pace I was on, so I had no idea how long I had hiked since the last sign. I could only hope for the best.
After about 10 hours according to my compromised perception, I saw a sign that said it was only .7 miles to the trailhead. FINALLY. FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY!! .7 miles even in the rain, even with my blisters, even with my fatigue, was going to be easy. My spirit was lifted by the knowledge that this was soon going to be over.
I started to chuckle. Then it became a laugh, then an outright explosion of joy. I hunched over, hands on knees, cause the laughing was hurting my already sore back, but I continued anyway. I was incredibly happy. I didn’t think of how stupid I was, or how this situation, for the most part, was my own doing and that I should go in for a CAT scan upon my return. I was just happy that it was almost over.
I pulled myself together and marched onward, almost having forgotten the pain in my right foot. I came to the tunnel at the beginning of the trail and was finally sheltered from the rain. By the time I reached the opposite end of the tunnel the rain had stopped. Thanks a lot mother nature, a little late aren’t we? Oh well at least I’ll be able to change into some dry clothes when I get back to my car.
My car! I was never so happy to see my lil’ Ford Focus. I heaved myself against the side of the car and breathed a deep breath. I threw my backpack down as to blame it for my pain and searched my car for some dry clothes. I stripped down right there in the open. There probably was no one around the parking lot, but I wouldn’t have cared if there was. I put on some dry clothes and felt 1000% better. Then I took my shoes off and got a look and the tragedy I forced upon them. I don’t think I should really go into details, but I do have pictures if you really are that interested to know. Yeah you heard me, I took pictures. This needed to be recorded.
After I was fully clothed I started out to the nearest hotel. There had to be one somewhere close. I know I saw a few in Bryson City (the town closest to the trailhead). There was probably one cheap there… whoa!
eeerrRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Slammed on the breaks. What the…?
Turkeys! There were wild turkeys blocking the road. Two of them. Unaffected by the noise of my breaks, they slowly turned their floppy heads towards me and proceeded to… do absolutely nothing! They weren’t moving, at all. AT ALL. I inched closer. Nothing. I honked a few times. Nothing.
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
But instead of being mad, I had to laugh. This wasn’t so bad compared to what happened to me earlier. I’m in my car. I’ve got a Gatorade. The air-conditioning is on. Soon I was going to be sleeping in a soft bed. All the things I usually take for granted came rushing to my mind as if they were luxuries, instead of daily expectations.
After a few minutes they decided to attend to whatever turkeys do while not on paved roads. As I drove by I gave their backsides the finger... in retrospect, I agree, very immature. They were just being turkeys after all. I was just being human.
I eventually did make it to a hotel and eventually fell asleep. It was a long day. Almost 21 miles over 10 hours with wet feet. It’s a few weeks after the fact now, and my right foot still has not fully recovered.
So was it worth it? Did I find what I was looking for? Tough to say. But it does make for a good story, and that is certainly worth something.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Some Firepower
This was the sparkler bomb we made on the advice from the pyro-head who was at the fireworks stand. It was maybe a 100 or so sparklers bundled together very tightly with climber's tape, which made it look like a stick of dynamite. It did not let us down. Thanks, crazy pyro-guy!
(Yes the fire was put out successfully)
(Yes the fire was put out successfully)
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Too Much Ain't Enough
You said it, Mr. Petty. Though sometimes it's hard to actually write about it all.
Currently I am in an international youth hostel in Flagstaff, AZ hanging out with some funny people from all over. This is an awesome town. I've only been here since this afternoon but I'm getting such a good vibe. I'm going to hang here for part of tomorrow and then head to the Grand Canyon. It's so close I just can't pass it up, now can I?
Before coming out here I went on an AMAZING excursion to Northwest Arkansas with my friend Lauren and her hubby Ryan. We left the Thursday before the 4th and didn't get back until the following Monday. So much happened I will lose feeling my fingers if I typed it all out but highlights include:
-Meeting some random lady while rock climbing in Tulsa and her subsequent offer to let us stay at the house she was watching over for someone she also did not know
-Jumping on the Indiana-Jones-esque bridge at Horshoe Canyon Ranch
-Discovering the coolest tree swing ever while frolfing at the ranch
-Putting on our own fireworks show with only minimal fires resulting
-My first real climbing experience!
-Dropping 30 feet into a "wet" cave and the exploration that ensued
-Being confronted by the police of Eureka Springs while attempting to sleep in car after a night of heavy drinking
-Canoeing with the puppies!
And I probably missed some stuff too but man it was action-packed. Whew.
I just posted the second chapter of my three chapter saga about my solo hiking trip in the Smokies. It's even longer than the first. Good lord. The 3rd chapter is almost done too!
And I just found out that the farm people would now like me to arrive on Monday, July 14th instead of this Saturday the 12th. So that gives me a few extra days to play with. Dare I stop by Vegas on my way to California??? Hmmmm. Maybe.
But in any case, I'll be driving around southern California on my way up north the farm. Where I'm going I haven't figured out yet. I'm starting to feel a bit fatigued being on the go all the time so I'm thinking a few days at the beach would be nice. Yeaaaaahh I think I just hit the nail on the head there.
Hope y'all had an awesome 4th of July weekend!
Keep it copacetic.
Currently I am in an international youth hostel in Flagstaff, AZ hanging out with some funny people from all over. This is an awesome town. I've only been here since this afternoon but I'm getting such a good vibe. I'm going to hang here for part of tomorrow and then head to the Grand Canyon. It's so close I just can't pass it up, now can I?
Before coming out here I went on an AMAZING excursion to Northwest Arkansas with my friend Lauren and her hubby Ryan. We left the Thursday before the 4th and didn't get back until the following Monday. So much happened I will lose feeling my fingers if I typed it all out but highlights include:
-Meeting some random lady while rock climbing in Tulsa and her subsequent offer to let us stay at the house she was watching over for someone she also did not know
-Jumping on the Indiana-Jones-esque bridge at Horshoe Canyon Ranch
-Discovering the coolest tree swing ever while frolfing at the ranch
-Putting on our own fireworks show with only minimal fires resulting
-My first real climbing experience!
-Dropping 30 feet into a "wet" cave and the exploration that ensued
-Being confronted by the police of Eureka Springs while attempting to sleep in car after a night of heavy drinking
-Canoeing with the puppies!
And I probably missed some stuff too but man it was action-packed. Whew.
I just posted the second chapter of my three chapter saga about my solo hiking trip in the Smokies. It's even longer than the first. Good lord. The 3rd chapter is almost done too!
And I just found out that the farm people would now like me to arrive on Monday, July 14th instead of this Saturday the 12th. So that gives me a few extra days to play with. Dare I stop by Vegas on my way to California??? Hmmmm. Maybe.
But in any case, I'll be driving around southern California on my way up north the farm. Where I'm going I haven't figured out yet. I'm starting to feel a bit fatigued being on the go all the time so I'm thinking a few days at the beach would be nice. Yeaaaaahh I think I just hit the nail on the head there.
Hope y'all had an awesome 4th of July weekend!
Keep it copacetic.
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