We made it, but only barely. We got on our plane in San Jose fine, and it left on time. But heading into Houston, we got news that there was a large storm system moving from west to east toward H-town, and that we’d have to swing around to Shreveport and double back to come from the east. So, instead of landing at 5:40, we landed at about 6:15. This was a problem because our plane to Cozumel was scheduled to leave at 6:20. We’d had pretty much given up hope of making it, but I thought I’d try sprinting the sizable distance to the gate, just in case they hadn’t left yet. As it turned out, the plane was still there, but the doors had been closed. I begged and pleaded, telling them that Leslie was coming up behind me. Eventually they agreed and opened up the doors and let us on. Woot. We waited on the tarmac in a growgin storm in a long line of planes. We finally got off the ground. A few minutes later the captain came on to tell us that five minutes after we lifted off, they had closed the Houston airport for the storm. So, we’re here, unlikely as we thought it would be.

And our hotel has free internet!

Today we went wine tasting in Santa Cruz. This might come as a bit of a surprise to those of you who already know that I don’t really like wine. Still, it seemed like something local and fun that we could do to get out on the weekend and breakup the monotony.

If you know anything about American wine, you’re probably wondering, “Why did they go to Santa Cruz instead of Napa Valley? Isn’t Santa Cruz just a bunch of old hippies and surf bums?” Both good questions. To answer the second, Santa Cruz has not only hippies and surfers, but also expensive boutiques and a some wineries (quite a few, acutally). To answer the first, we were too lazy to drive all the way up to Napa. Some day we will.

The place we went to is called “Bonny Doon Winery.” Now, I should say before I go any further that Santa Cruz styles itself as the “anti-Napa,” and proudly flouts conventional wine-making wisdom. Most of this irreverence was lost on me as someone who doesn’t know any of said conventional wisdom. But in any case, we had a lot of fun. The way it’s set up is each week they pick a new selection of wines (seven or so), then you come lean on a bar and a helpful staffer walks you through each one, describing it. They started us with a pink wine that was actually very good called “vin gris de cigare” which means “gray wine of cigar” (tricky, eh?). It’s called cigar because it’s a type taken from a place in france where it’s forbidden by law to land flying saucers (“cigars”) in vineyards. Ha! Very funny, isn’t it? We then went to a sushi white wine, which I also actually liked, then through some darker red, bitter stuff that I can take or leave, eventually finishing with some dessert wines. First, some sparkling red stuff so sweet that it could have come from a coke machine; it was aptly described as “a strawberry nehi spiked with vodka.” Then a rasperry concoction (framboise) that we actually drank out of chocolate cups (themselves aptly called “snobinettes”). We ended up with a bottle each of the pink, the white, and a fancy red.

In a short and cheap trip last weekend, we headed out to lake tahoe for a day of skiing/snowboarding. It came to me this time much more quickly than the last, so very little bashing of the head or wrists occurred. I did get a tad ambitious at one point, though and went in the actual half-pipe. For the uninitiated, this is literally like a giant flute carved out of the snow that you go up and down the sides of, maybe not dying in the process. I barely managed to get down it without serious injuries. I proceeded to try to grind on a rail and ate serious snow. It was nice to live out some of my SSX fantasies. It’s kind of odd–I felt the opposite of what everyone talks about. Instead of the video game making me want to jump off huge ramps in real life, it just made me think, “jumping off of huge ramps is for video games, not real life.” Mostly I thought this as I was in the air after leaving the top of said ramps. Landing from them didn’t often work out. We do have some pictures of the excursion on gallery.

well, this morning i’m driving from palo alto to seattle. it should take about 14 hours, so i want to get an early start, though i’m not sure it will help prevent this from being a really long day. hopefully the next post will be from my new apartment with pictures.

the last time i drove through oregon in the summer it was absolutely beautiful, covered in yellow flowers. i wonder if it will be now. i’ll try to snap a shot or two on the way if i can.

These were the words emblazoned on a hill overlooking El Paso as we sped through it this morning. It’s Spanish for: “the bible is the truth… READ IT!” This explains a few things about el paso to me, confirming (in cooperation with the many “desert-view” suburban “enclaves”) that el paso falls into the category of unredeemable shithole.

That is of course, unless your consider the goodness bestowed on it by its proximity to Hueco Tanks, the place with the Best Bouldering In The World, and it’s numerous dispensaries of snack foods and DVDs.

After an uneventful drive yesterday to the tanks, I spent the late afternoon getting spanked by my old foe, mushroom roof. Mushroom Roof very politely explained to me that just because I’m moving out of Texas and I might not be coming back to Hueco for a long, long time doesn’t give me permission to send V8 after not climbing much at all for 2 months. I did, however, do my customary cursing and ripping off of my fingertips anyway. the rest of the evening was spent lazing about the campsite, then finally unpacking our “tent.” I use the term only tentatively because this “tent” had not been unpacked for at least five years, and it was apparrently packed during a monsoon, because every surface of the tent was covered with a festive black fungus that also had a very festive odor. It’s just as well that the tent was in this state, since neither of us had sleeping bags or pads that might have assisted tent sleep. So, we made other arrangements.

Today’s only point of interest was Saguaro NP which had some really big cactus. I’m sure that they were really interesting, and I looked at them and was kind of impressed, but I think my ability to really appreciate them was impeded by the fact that it was roughly 20 degrees cooler than the surface of the sun in the park, and so I kept having to rush back to the car to treat my burns or at least to get some AC. We did get a few pictures anyway.

Tomorrow we’re heading to Joshua Tree NP, another really outrageously hot place, but this one is in California, which is a state that at least has some places in it that have been known to be cool. It also happens to be the same state that has Los Angeles in it, which happens to be the city that has USC in it, which happens to be the place where TFA training is going on. What an interesting coincidence.

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Comments

george — 2003-09-05 13:37:37

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=el+paso

Molly Walker — 2011-12-05 13:59:32

woaw- I am a student in El Paso. I am not originally from here, and I too have struggled to find affection for this place. But its here. I have most certainly found it. One thing that is so incredibly important about the ‘hill overlooking el paso’- is that it is in Mexico. That was Ciudad Juarez- also the most dangerous city in the world for a miriad of deeply rooted reasons. This place is important- a place in the U.S. where one is reminded of nationality and the lack thereof. these false titles of security. what is border. Mexico is greatly a catholic country, although much of its catholicism is rooted in native interpretations of it. i.E the Virgin Guadalupe. before you reference something as an unreadable shithole, spend 5 seconds figuring where you actually are.

bryan — 2013-06-25 11:39:53

Hi Molly,

Thanks for pointing out that the hill is in Mexico. It’s still a pretty obnoxious evangelical message to deface a hillside with.