Pelican Surfing in Sandy

Thinking back to Hurricane Sandy now.
I know it was rough for the states up north but it remains a bitter sweet memory here. Florida was gifted a swell by her that we will be talking about on our porches long after we get old, if we get old.

Before I begin, I must say that I have written about a lot of swells. When I look back through by rambling in journals and this old blog, I usually try to dwell in words that paint pictures of barrels and long glassy faces that curl over not a drop out of place. Sure this swell had all those things. Some size certainly worth mentioning: double-over head plus. Spitting tubes, offshore breeze, and all the fanciful parts of an incredible swell.

I think for me though, something will stand out this time more than the barrels and perfection. During our second session north of the St. Augustine pier, a certain moment needs recalling. As we just reached the line-up, ducking under a final roaring train to narrowly escape a watery beating something very interesting happened. At least I felt it was. I was resting on my board, tired from the paddle out when off to my left I noticed some pelicans surfing by. Cruising in long beautiful formations that lick face of the waves, arching their wings to ride the air that is being pushed up from aquatic motion. One pelican in particular seemed to want to cut out early though. I was so lost in admiring them, that I was startled when I realized that this unique pelican was flying straight at me like a small airplane whizzing above the water. "Woahh, WOOAHH!" I slammed my face down against by board to duck as low as I could. I felt one of those woooooshing sounds that your friend makes when he tells that story. I could have licked the pelican had I been laying on my back. No contact though. Not even a feather. He must have seen me though? Right? I swirved to see if some pattern in his flight would reveal that this pelican was as surprised as I was. Nothing. Still cruising as if I was just a mere patch of seaweed below.

Kyle laughed at me. He was paddling only a few feet away. Holy guacamole I kept thinking. I deserve some guacamole after that. I glanced down at Donatello, the pelican tattoo on my ribs. "What was that all about Don?" Nothing. He doesn't usually say much at these times.

So yes the waves were amazing. However, I feel I will remember Sandy not only for her gifts but also for certain events synchronized with her patterns. What does it all mean? Nothing most likely. That really isn't any fun though. I try to believe there was some message being delivered, an omen perhaps. A good one I hope but I never want to assume. Further interpretation is to be sought I suppose.
Thanks for reading.

a taste:

Reunion

Yann Martel writes a perfect description of a familiar friend floating toward Pi's lifeboat. Super rad.  Excerpt taken from Life of Pi, p111:

Notes from Joshua Tree

Joshua Tree is an interesting place. Certainly a type of setting I have not experienced much, a place beyond any expectations I could have mustered within my noggin. There are some pretty rad mysterious elements in the desert which provide for endless pondering of things. Things like creative existence and other fancy thoughts where one can use words a bit beyond daily vocabulary. It is fun. For example, while we were their the conversation turned several times to how in the hell did these towering boulders come to dismount in majestically stacked piles of climbing goodness. When one looks around at Joshua Tree, one will notice that almost all the dirt lays on a steady flatfish plain. There is a few mountains off in the distance. For the most part though, it seems as if the only formations are giant rock monuments. Maybe they were built by giants, big rock fellows who wanted something to do, so they made art. Or even better! Perhaps the rock monuments are not monuments at all but the rock giants themselves who have laid down to sleep. They wake up and move about while nobody is looking, standing up first like Optimus Prime waking from his Semi-Truck. It must be true! I am on to something, rock transformers maybe. I would like discuss this further but now while I must go on to other matters.

Our trip to Joshua Tree, which consisted of Ben Sasso, Tony Sasso, and myself, was truly amazing and necessary in every way. I say necessary, because almost all adventuring really is necessary of course. Tony proved to be an awesome guide by having everything already good to go when we flew in. His camping knowledge was adept along with his scrumptious cooking skills. We ate like men. Tony brought us to the rocks and helped us learn how to lead climb and set anchors when needed. Nifty. It was also quite nifty for Ben and I to see that what we learned in our climbing gym back home actually applied to real rock. It was weird at first, but we seemed to catch on quick. We were completing routes from 5.7 and 5.10c and hanging over cliffs of doom, I want to mention that JTree is known for having run-out bolts and having some of "the hardest ratings anywhere", words of the local legend Eric Hires. It seems safe to say that a 5.10 at the gym was about 5.8 out in the dessert. What we thought was a hard V4 turned out to be a V0. It is also safe to say that the adventure was quite humbling. Other things to mention: being naked in the dessert is awesome, delicious burritos can now be made anywhere, no serious injuries occurred, and yes I still struggle to grow facial hair (although it is coming in better now).

I had this other thought I want to share and expand on. Well its more like an absurd imaginative assumption that should only be taken as fact. What if, the rocks really enjoy being climbed on. I know I am personifying these boulders, but seriously I have this feeling that they just love it. I can see the rocks just shuddering with excitement as we gear up to ascend them, like the boy and his Giving Tree. I am sure some are a bit spoiled with too much attention like the beast that contains the Stitcher Quits route. Always getting a good massage. I imagine it must feel something like that. Then there are lonlier giants who stare beggingly at climbers who pass by. Maybe they get attention only in certain seasons, or never, spending most of their holidays alone. "Just one climb please, good sir", I can hear them thinking it in their mysterious rock language. Curious, is it not? 

There will be many returns to Joshua Tree for adventure and investigative purposes.  

  

  

Heading to JTree

I figure this is as good a time as any to mention that some friends and I have become overly addicted to climbing. Last summer, a few of us did some in Alaska and California, in which we experienced this sport on a whole new level. Months later, it is safe to say we are now obsessed. I have even gone as far as purchasing my first container of protein powder, something I never thought I might do.

There are geographical issues though. Florida, if you had not noticed, does not offer a whole lot of mountainous climbing landscape. Most of the state is only a few feet above sea level. Despite this inconvenience, we have found that it does have a few great climbing gyms that act as wonderful supplements, while preparing for the real thing. So this is what Ben Sasso, John Taylor, Sarah Rogers, Veronica Spake, a few others, and myself have been doing with our time. The result has been an exponential level of obsession in the sport.

Now the real reason I have sat down to write at this particular moment in time, is to squeal out a bit of my pre-trip anticipation/excitement for a trip coming up. That jittery feeling that has one visualizing the adventure while making weird faces of emotional frenzy, teeth gritting, eyes widening, and then the person in the room staring at you curiously and concerningly. (ehhem) So, this blog post is currently acting as my outlet for such feelings. A few of us are flying out to Joshua Tree in California, one of the great climbing locations in the US, to get our fix on some real rock, quartzite monzonite, in this case. Joshua Tree National Park is found in the dessert near LA and homes a wealth of giant boulders big and small. It is the oasis to our obsession. 

Among epic climbs on my list of envisionment, I imagine scruffy beards, meandered yodeling, warm campfires, bloody fingers, spicy food, and arguments in caves about the Theory of Relativity. Yes, not much longer now.  Here are a few photos to explain further what I presently can not:

Substitute Teaching

It is fun. At least it is most of the time. Certainly not always easy. Quite difficult actually. Sometimes it is at least. Not knowing all the time what classes I will have. Who will be the students? How will they behave?  Just fine plenty of the time. Definitely now always though. Goofy and awkward the way kids are. Cruel and unusual the way they can be. Listening and attentive verses defiant and rude. All in the job. I enjoy the job. I do. The surprise. What the day will hold. The fire drill, tornado drill, and lock down drill. Back to back. The kid who fell over in his chair. Again. The lessons. The projects. The sarcasm. The good ones. The stories I will have when I am old. Already there are so many. Very unpredictable this work. Making it enjoyable. Preferring it to be this way. Well not exactly. I guess I really want to just to be a teacher. A full-time one. My own classes. But for now, this is fun.

My First Product Review

I was shopping at the dollar store recently and decided it necessary that I indulge in some hair washing solution. I have never been one to be real picky about what hair toxin I use. The bottle of "Scooby-Doo: 2 in 1 Conditioning Shampoo" seemed perfectly reasonable, despite whether or not you think it is dog-shampoo. It is for humans. I checked. Also, "ghostly grape" sounds kinda nice too, like those delicious Flintstones vitamins. Anyway, this decision has left me a thoroughly disappointed consumer. So much, that I now feel inclined to do my first product review.

When I first opened the ghostly grape shampoo, the smell was a bit overpowering. That same smell that we all for some reason have decided to associate with grapes. But have you ever thought about that? What does a grape smell like? If you can not remember, go into the fridge right now and put one up to your nose. There is a lie. The lie being that grapes have a fragrance. Allow me to inform you that THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A GRAPE FRAGRANCE. Grapes do not have a smell in the first place, so how the hell did we arrive with a "grape fragrance"? This question could arise long standing debates of theories and hypothesis, however I do not care about that, sort of... All I want to do right now is state that all of our noses have been cheated. Cheated like children brought to a candy shop that only sells broccoli. (No offense broccoli lovers.)

I should also mention that this shampoo was pretty awful for washing hair, even mine. It left my hair feeling like the side of an orange construction cone. If you do not know what that feels like, well then go find an orange construction cone, or just use this shampoo.

Postives: I did not cry when I used this shampoo, thankfully because it is tear-free!