39. Holiday Bowl Cal vs. Texas December 28

 

We dished out a sizable stack of cash and went to the Holiday Bowl in San Diego:

Cal Berkeley Golden Bears vs. Texas Longhorns.

For an additional wad of change, we got Elite 45/50 yard-line tickets - padded seats with arm and backrests! Dickie was pumped……….and so was I.

The Pre-Game Show was spectacular: Parachute jumpers from the U.S. Navy Leap Frogs,

heart-pounding marching bands, and the famous Holiday Bowl “Big Flag” - the football field size American Flag.........................Then the game started.

Cal briefly took the lead with a field goal; then went sleepwalking for the rest of game. After the spectacular fireworks at halftime, it was back to watching the grass grow, the paint dry, and waiting around for the egg being laid.

B O R I N G!

The bully Texans looked too big, too strong, too fast and athletic for the Bears, who shot themselves in the foot with ridiculous penalties. They couldn’t run, couldn’t pass, couldn’t kick! Other than that, they played a helluva good football game.


In the end the Longhorns stumped the Golden Bears 21-10.

While the Texas band played The Yellow Rose of Texas, all eyes were on us when we left the game early. On the way out a dude with a deep southern drawl said to me:

"You Bears would have been better off remaining behind in Berkeley and just staying satisfied with being smart, y’all."

The Texan cowboy must have read the Washington Post the day before, who ranked the University of California Berkeley the nation’s number ONE public university. With parking spaces reserved for the nine living Cal Nobel laureates, it competes with the big private Ivies, and the Post rated “us” number two overall, with Harvard ahead and Stanford in third place.

Sadly the California-State share of Berkeley’s operating budget has slipped since 1991 from 47 percent to 11 percent and tuition has doubled in six years. “Nowhere are the stakes higher than at the anchor of the nation’s most prestigious public university system, which now admits more students from out of state/country willing to pay a premium for a Berkeley degree”, the Post said.

In closing I wish y’all a Happy New Year – may you be alive and healthy at the same time next December 29^th.

Cheers and

GO BEARS!

P.S. Good luck to the Oregon Ducks in the Rose Bowl.

We love you guys too!

38 Merry Christmas from Oceanside - December 22

At the end click on the youtube link to watch Dickie sweat!

Merry Merry - Happy Happy - Ho Ho Ho!

It's December, and here we are again with our annual steam-powered “Christmas Musings and Doings.”

Unlike previous years, we didn’t’ make any practical resolutions, so we could do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. Be free. Waste away. Be irresponsible. That was the 2011 motto.
(Will be the same in 2012).

December: We drove to Oceanside, California to enjoy the snowbird-lifestyle for three months, and to celebrate Christmas on the beach – where palm trees sway and a cool breeze blows in from the Pacific. Oh, sure, it’s not like Christmas up north. We don’t wake up and discover that the landscape has been magically transformed by a blanket of white, unless a cocaine plane from Mexico has crashed on the lawn.

Speaking of Mexico, I swear that of the 114 million living there, 113 million currently reside in Southern California. Feliz Navidad. Una muy Feliz Navidad!

But Christmas is not about the (illegal) Mexicans, or the palm trees swaying in the breeze; it’s a battle of taking the annual Christmas photos and decking-out Dickie in Santa-shorts. For as long as I can remember, the process of taking these annual photos has been an exercise in patience and is always met with a series of reluctant groans -- and this year was no exception. Dickie is convinced that I do this to torment him. Hmm!

Now to the beginning of the year:

January and February: We ate and drank - mostly trying to revive our energy.


March and April: We did absolutely nothing.

May and June: As part of our continuing effort to make the world a little bit smaller, we put on a few miles in Portugal, Spain, France, Belgium, Holland, Germany, Denmark, Norway, Russia and Scotland.


July and August: We had a few, but too few to mention.


September: We had a few more and ended up in Oregon.

October: We made a few toasts and hiked some crazy trails around Lake Tahoe.

November: We survived the “Five-Day-Thanksgiving-Harmony-of-Wine-and Food-Season; also called a festival of gratitude. Gratitude does wonders for the mind, body, and soul……and belly ache and tight pants.

December: See above.

P.S. We have tickets to the Holiday Bowl on December 28^th in San Diego. Dickie is pumped. GO BEARS!

Although we won’t be seeing you this Christmas, you’re in our thoughts and hearts. Hope Christmas brings you lots of reasons to smile and bountiful blessings.

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,


a pocket full of money and a cellar full of beer!

Joy to the world --

and especially to you.

Cheers,

Lori and Santa-Dickie

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyZ0PAgv3P8

37. Bodie Ghost Town, California - November 30

On a sunny November morning, we drove south from Reno on Highway 395 to Bridgeport, then turned east on California state road 270. The purpose was a photo-shoot on Bodie’s brief and colorful history. To call 270 a road is an exaggeration; it appears whatever old road existed has been ripped up to build a nice new road; unfortunately construction seems to have stopped at the ripping up stage. The first 10 miles are “paved”, then the blacktop abruptly ends, which gives you some idea of why the town remained untouched for so many years. The last stretch is a bone rattling, up and down, in and out of ruts drive, at an average speed of 15 mph.

Bodie’s website says: At 8,375 feet elevation (2560m) visitation is comfortable from about May to October. In winter the road is impassable and snowshoes are the only way to the ghost town. Well, we missed the comfy-zone by 7 weeks, but once I stepped out of the car, I heard the stories of the men, the women and the children who abandoned their homes and gave up their claims so fast that they seem to have vanished mid-stride and mid-sentence.


Dusty whiskey bottles line warped shelves. Framed black-and-white photos, veiled in spider webs, hang on crooked nails. Dog-eared hymnbooks rest in church pews. Creaky shacks with tools and equipment are seriously spooky and the ground is littered with old debris, ranging from broken bottles and rusty cans, to cars and huge mining equipment. Old power poles and insulators are everywhere. That’s because Bodie was one of the first fully electrified towns in the world. Yes in the WORLD!

The settlement was established in 1861, two years after Waterman S. Bodie unearthed traces of gold in the nearby hills. For the next few years only around 20 people lived in Bodie. When a major Iron-Ore mine was discovered in 1875, hordes of miners, tradesmen, businessmen, robbers, gunfighters, wives and prostitutes - some desperate, all hopeful - flooded to this lawless camp and by the end of the year, Bodie had a population of about 10,000 - as well as 65 saloons, three newspapers, a plethora of brothels, and, to quote the Ranger, a reputation as "a sea of sin, lashed by the tempests of lust and passion." Some estimate a killing happened every day.


Little evidence of lust or passion can be found in the 170 abandoned wooden buildings scattered over these windswept and barren hills, the rest having succumbed to fires or the harsh climate.

As with all western boom towns, the gold was soon exhausted, and by the late 1880s, hordes of disappointed fortune seekers began departing. Mining all but ceased and the population dwindled to 18 burly individuals, who refused to believe that the glory days are played out. In 1917 the Bodie Railway was abandoned. The last mine closed in 1942 and so did the Post Office. The weathered brown structures laid abandoned for 20 years until the creation of the state park in 1962. Despite wishful thinking and romantic stories, Bodie never boomed again.

Maneuvering the dirt road back to civilization, I had a feeling of real remoteness, mixed with sadness for the people who never found their Mother Lode in this wicked and wild town named Bodie.

Sad! Another remnant of the Wild West is gone! But the legend still whispers to anyone willing to walk through and listen.

Click on the youtube link for more pictures


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCnM4T_qgHQ

36. Lake Tahoe, California & Nevada - October 16

(Click on the uTube link at the end to see more pictures).

We were in hot pursuit of recreation and South Lake Tahoe was the perfect place to give the old bones and muscles a bit of a challenge, and rejuvenate our body and soul at the same time.

Saturday: Too late to hit the mountain trails, we enjoyed the simple life on the beach and the glorious autumn leaves glowing bright yellow and orange in the sun.

Sunday: We picked up our wilderness permit and the Echo Lakes hike was on. The trail started off easy until I felt the crunch of snow under my feet. Of course, we should have turned around, but me, I had to reach the top. I’ve never been good at half measures. The spectacular scenery distracted me partially from the pain, as well as from the warning of early winter – fierce winds and plummeting temperatures.

Monday: We dressed in layers; tank top, long sleeve shirt, sweatshirt & jacket and hiked to Eagle Falls, and on to Velmas, Dicks and FontanillisLakes, in the heart of the Desolation Wilderness. It was a tough hike up and an even tougher one down because of all the loose rocks. And it was hot. I was down to the tank top and was still sweating like a pig. By the time I was done, so were my legs. Later that evening I came to the conclusion: I will never hike again. NEVER!

Tuesday: I am a master of my domain, an adult who chooses what to do and live with the consequences. Note: I’m also a friggin’ moron. I chose to hike the horrible Cathedral Trail. It was a haul and even the super light backpack weighted me down. Where the hell is a Sherpa when you need one!

Wednesday: Instead of another scenic hike, I should have stayed in bed, or engage in a more genteel outdoor activity. But NO! We had to lace up the boots and take on the Glen Alpine Trail. I was sick of walking an hour into the four hour round-trip. My brain was numb and my feet hurt. Not having lungs of steel, I gasped for breath when a tall fellow with a weather-beaten face and beard passed us, saying “Isn’t this a great trail”, and then vanished into thin air. Disappeared! Like a phantom! I wasn’t able to speak, so I shrugged. My first reaction was: “Eh.” My second: “Ugh.” Then I closed my eyes and longed for death.

Thursday: No hike today. Just hanging out on the lake! But by noon we had that wacky and crazy idea of hiking the Angora Lakes Trail – more out of guilt than anything. The scenery was stunning - two lakes framed by cliffs. It was not a stroll in the park, but thankfully it wasn’t a sweaty strenuous slog through the wilderness either. I actually enjoyed the hike because everywhere looked like a post card.

Friday: Inspired by yesterday’s hike, we decided to do the Bayview trail. The mother of all trails! A holy place where evidence of an amazing creator is all around; if you live long enough to see it. After passing a chain of Alpine Lakes the trail ascends ten thousand feet up a serious of switchbacks up the side of Maggie’s Peak. I felt like shouting some incomprehensible profanities but I was numb and speechless. The only thing worse would be getting hit by lightning; now that would really suck.

Saturday: No hike. From now on, if the stunning scenery can’t be reached by car, screw it. If I have to leave the radius of a Wi-Fi connection, forget it. If I never walk along a dirt path ever again, it will be too soon. Give me the smell of diesel, the sound of rushing traffic, and the tranquility of a city bustling with millions of people. At least until the next hike!

Click on the youTube link below to see more pictures.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxOlaCwEOtg

35. Sunriver, Oregon - September 28

Here’s the third and last installment of our Oregon road trip.

Highway 58 from Eugene to Bend/Sunriver is very scenic but a tiresome 3 ½ hour drive. Heck it wore me out. You heard of 2-Way Highways? There are sections where it is 1-lane because of the many stimulus road projects.

Once we arrived in magical Sunriver, it was party time. We drank it in, and wolfed it down, and lived it up with great friends from long-ago.

In our younger years, the heaps of white fluffy powder brought us to Bend in winter. As we grew older, hiking boots replaced ski boots and sunglasses did the work that goggles handled in winter. And now that we’re geezers, upscale restaurants and 24 golf courses lure us, and millions of people from all over the country to this area.

Speaking of golf, Dickie was itching to play the fabled Pronghorn Nicklaus or Fazio courses, but his decrepit back didn’t allow it.

The golf pro had mercy on him and let us drive the 36-hole links without playing. (Oh the wonderful power of a PressPass)! The fairways and greens were the best Dickie had ever seen. And luxurious multi million dollar estates weave through the courses, surrounded by spectacular Central Oregon scenery. It brings new meaning to wealth.

On the way home we stayed clear of freeways and explored the remote back roads where cell phone service is spotty. The drive led us through the heartland of cattle country, small redneck towns with lots of local flair and colors…………and not a single traffic cop in sight.

Yes siree, the “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” road was a pleasure to drive. We even smashed the existing Guinness Record from Sunriver to Sparks by one whole hour.

Map from Sunriver, OR to Sparks, NV (380 miles/612 km)
http://www.mapquest.com/embed?hk=o8rW8Q