Tag-a-long

I found these in my pack.

It was sweet, G knows what my Camelback is all about.   So i took the little one with me.

Alex decided it was his day to ride 24th St., I was happy to show him the way. I had a smooth climb up Mormon, much improved upon last week. Alex nearly died behind me. It was weird, it was unsettling, for both of us. We seriously thought about turning back, but a Goo shot and Alex’s distaste for bailing after he’d got himself all pumped to ride 24th convinced me to lead him on. I did ok, he got all of it. He’s sneaky like that. I think I am stronger than Alex on hardcore long descents, I was pulling away from him on most of the ride down. But on super 3rd degree gnar-gnar challenges he is better than me. He got the hardest slotty s-curve on the trail on his first try, and I still have trouble with it and tried it four times yesterday alone. Its kinda the same climbing: i have more power, he has more technique. Its fun to keep each other on edge. It was fun to watch him do so well. Then he almost heaved behind me getting back over Beverly Canyon and cried like a girl about hitting a few drops in the dark.

Alex bought me dinner. Best Goo shot I ever spent. I too was flush with joy after my first time down 24th and called all manner of friends to kvell. JB joined us too, ready to take his share of abuse for flaking on Rocky Point.

The bird survived about as well as Alex

G pulled it out of my pack the next morning, along with most of my tools, which she then spread out across the kitchen floor.

Unaccounted Guests

A typical trip to Rocky Point, with an atypical amount of attention paid to visitors. This was seemingly impossible, since other than Beckie and Kila and G, and Benito and Pancho at the fish market, I spoke barely 10 words to anyone all weekend, and those consisted of “whuh? um, ok. smile. one, two, three. you’re welcome.”

JB and his family were supposed to join us, and were packed and ready to go, other than for a missing birth certificate. They did not make it, we did not know, but by 4pm we had written them off. Too bad, as we had a grand time.

Little swimming was done by anyone but me and Kila. G entertained herself by storming the gates of this (unoccupied) beachfront house over and over. pirate-like.

She insisted we bring all this along each day.


Flies were everywhere

Dont Tase Me, Bro

All weekend G tried to fly one of the very complex, very twisted-and-broken kites in the garage. She found a better one tangled up in the dunes and railing of the yo-ho-house she pillaged.

It put up a fight.

But at least it flew

Sometime Sunday night, a cat snuck into the house, ate all of Kila’s food, then got itself chased into the cabinet. In the morning while I was drinking my coffee, I detected a malodorous smell. I found the cat, it shit in the cabinet, then bolted past me and down 2 flights of stairs in a single bound.

It looked like this

G wanted to get in the water, but the surf scared her. I was a bit disappointed at her lack of balls, but what do i know of where a 32 month-old-tinyHuman’s balls should be?

She was fired up to get in a boat nonetheless, and insisted that Beckie paddle