I'm a bad, bad person. I don't blog enough, as I have been informed by several people, including Dave Almighty. With the race season upon us, however, I felt I should reassure my hordes of loyal readers that I am not dead! I did not waste away to nothing out here in the Land of Fruits and Nuts. Rather, I have been training extensively in preparation for my first race as a Cat 4: the Poor College Kids Road Race in Santa Barbara, CA. The next day is the Mothballs Criterium also in Santa Barbara. My new ride, named Viviane, and I will be headed up there to take names and kick ass.
I promise that a race report will follow on Sunday. Really!
Showing posts with label Malibu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malibu. Show all posts
Monday, January 12, 2009
Monday, June 9, 2008
California Dreaming
On June 27, 2008, I will be leaving Ohio.
For my entire life, I have lived in Ohio. I was born in Dayton. I grew up in the house my parents bought when they got married. College was a big step for me; moving to Cleveland was the furthest I had ever been from home, and I stayed here after graduation--and for most of the summers before graduation. Even then, my parents were less than four hours by car, and I would certainly never think of flying to go see them. I have family all over the state, too: Cleveland, Akron, and Dayton. Such has been my life for the past twenty-four years.
As my regular readers know, I vacationed in SoCal at the beginning of April. While I was there I realized what I had been missing. This is a place where I could train year round, outside. I would have, at my fingertips, all manner of parks, forests, and wilderness in which to pass the time. When I tired of living deliberately, I could return to a bustling metropolis with many highly regarded medical centers, all of whom demonstrated a need for nursing staff. As I returned to Cleveland, I vowed to explore this opportunity more.
And so I did. Thanks to several weeks of phone tag, faxing documents, writing large checks to government agencies, and playing the waiting game, I will be starting work in the Liver Transplant Surgical Sub-specialty Intensive Care Unit at the University of California Los Angeles Medical Center, Westwood Campus, on July 7. Since the commute would be prohibitive otherwise, I will be moving to Los Angeles on July 3. Since I'm driving out, I leave Cleveland on June 27, with plans to visit several national parks, Boulder, CO, and Las Vegas on the way out. The next several weeks will be a whirlwind of planning, finalizing a few things on the LA end, and compressing my life into a 2003 Honda Civic Sedan with an extra eleven cubic feet of space, courtesy of the fine folks at Yakima and Bike Authority. So if you're in need/want of some furniture drop me a line; I'm looking to be rid of most of what I have here, and most of it can be yours for the cost of coming to get it. I have bookshelves, a couch, chairs, dining room stuff, you name it. Please come get it. Please...
For my entire life, I have lived in Ohio. I was born in Dayton. I grew up in the house my parents bought when they got married. College was a big step for me; moving to Cleveland was the furthest I had ever been from home, and I stayed here after graduation--and for most of the summers before graduation. Even then, my parents were less than four hours by car, and I would certainly never think of flying to go see them. I have family all over the state, too: Cleveland, Akron, and Dayton. Such has been my life for the past twenty-four years.
As my regular readers know, I vacationed in SoCal at the beginning of April. While I was there I realized what I had been missing. This is a place where I could train year round, outside. I would have, at my fingertips, all manner of parks, forests, and wilderness in which to pass the time. When I tired of living deliberately, I could return to a bustling metropolis with many highly regarded medical centers, all of whom demonstrated a need for nursing staff. As I returned to Cleveland, I vowed to explore this opportunity more.
And so I did. Thanks to several weeks of phone tag, faxing documents, writing large checks to government agencies, and playing the waiting game, I will be starting work in the Liver Transplant Surgical Sub-specialty Intensive Care Unit at the University of California Los Angeles Medical Center, Westwood Campus, on July 7. Since the commute would be prohibitive otherwise, I will be moving to Los Angeles on July 3. Since I'm driving out, I leave Cleveland on June 27, with plans to visit several national parks, Boulder, CO, and Las Vegas on the way out. The next several weeks will be a whirlwind of planning, finalizing a few things on the LA end, and compressing my life into a 2003 Honda Civic Sedan with an extra eleven cubic feet of space, courtesy of the fine folks at Yakima and Bike Authority. So if you're in need/want of some furniture drop me a line; I'm looking to be rid of most of what I have here, and most of it can be yours for the cost of coming to get it. I have bookshelves, a couch, chairs, dining room stuff, you name it. Please come get it. Please...
Friday, April 11, 2008
In those high-rolling hills...
After sixty-eight miles and thirteen thousand vertical feet of climbing, I have emerged from the wilderness. The Santa Monica Mountains provide a stark contrast to the urban jungle that lies just below; many miles of trails exist, flanked by brush covered hillsides that were brilliantly coated in wildflowers and green grass. Looking out over the slopes ravaged by fire last October, I saw a green rivaled only by the pictures I've seen of Ireland. According to the locals, it's almost never that green. For an idea of what it usually looks like, one only needs to watch a M*A*S*H rerun. The show was filmed in Malibu Creek State Park, where I camped my second night.
Despite the vibrant nature of the vegetation, water was still hard to come by. On the many exposed ridges and fire roads, there was no water, and only in a few of the seasonal streams did I find more than mud at the bottom. It was small wonder that the fire danger throughout the mountains was rated at least at Medium. Many areas throughout Malibu carried permanent smoking bans outside, not in the interest of personal health, but in the interest of not burning down the county. One ranger drove by me while I was carrying a pen; thinking I was smoking he got out of his vehicle to give me what-for, but stopped short when he saw it was only a blue Bic. Campfires are out of the question, and even charcoal grills are off limits. Thankfully propane stoves weren't banned at the time I was there (it's happened before, though I've always just missed it), since such bans make having hot food a little difficult.
Other than the aridness of the climate, the weather was perfect. The sun shone every day, nice breezes blew up the canyons, and nary a drop of rain fell upon me. Thankfully there was water at all the campgrounds, and I had enough water bottles to carry a gallon at once, so I never went thirsty. When I got off trail, I went to dinner with my friend George and then heard his barbershop group sing at a coffee shop in Santa Monica. Before that, I stopped at a Burger King for a cheeseburger. There's nothing I crave while on the trail like a cheeseburger.
For those mountain bikers who read this, you can ride over much of the trail; thanks to the many road intersections along the route it's not hard to get to and from the trail (since not all the trail is open to bikes), the trail is fairly wide and well-constructed in many places. You'll want plenty of water and sun protection; as I already said the trail is dry and shaded spots are few and far between. Check out the National Park Service site for more information.
Despite the vibrant nature of the vegetation, water was still hard to come by. On the many exposed ridges and fire roads, there was no water, and only in a few of the seasonal streams did I find more than mud at the bottom. It was small wonder that the fire danger throughout the mountains was rated at least at Medium. Many areas throughout Malibu carried permanent smoking bans outside, not in the interest of personal health, but in the interest of not burning down the county. One ranger drove by me while I was carrying a pen; thinking I was smoking he got out of his vehicle to give me what-for, but stopped short when he saw it was only a blue Bic. Campfires are out of the question, and even charcoal grills are off limits. Thankfully propane stoves weren't banned at the time I was there (it's happened before, though I've always just missed it), since such bans make having hot food a little difficult.
Other than the aridness of the climate, the weather was perfect. The sun shone every day, nice breezes blew up the canyons, and nary a drop of rain fell upon me. Thankfully there was water at all the campgrounds, and I had enough water bottles to carry a gallon at once, so I never went thirsty. When I got off trail, I went to dinner with my friend George and then heard his barbershop group sing at a coffee shop in Santa Monica. Before that, I stopped at a Burger King for a cheeseburger. There's nothing I crave while on the trail like a cheeseburger.
For those mountain bikers who read this, you can ride over much of the trail; thanks to the many road intersections along the route it's not hard to get to and from the trail (since not all the trail is open to bikes), the trail is fairly wide and well-constructed in many places. You'll want plenty of water and sun protection; as I already said the trail is dry and shaded spots are few and far between. Check out the National Park Service site for more information.
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