Every RP trip develops its own vibe. One of the best ever. 90’s highs 70’s lows, low tide from 2p-sunset every afternoon, barely any wind. And my bud Yuri and his 2 great kids Pia and Tate romping with my Monsters. Swimming til sunset in the warm water, bike rides, pastry runs, salsa and seafood orgies leasing out days i can slow down and love life and family. Alana floated in the ocean untethered. I ran in sand 3 days for 30 minutes, my quads blew up, my liver displayed the strength of its training. We established the rules to Mudball.
Rule #1:You are not playing Mudball unless everyone agrees you are playing Mudball
Rule #2:There will be no mudballs to the face, or nose, or eyes, or ears or neck or junk. No uncool mudballs.
Rule #3:3 mudballs in a row and you chug
just before the string caught on my ear and ripped out an earing
Yuri trying the g-out
palm tree needs viagra
zombie apocalypse
leisurely lunches with a view
Les Artistes
alone together or together alone? wgaf, not hassling mom and dad
free range podford
Go here, and see my good friend with his good eye capture familiar scenes differently.
4 days of 16 hours awake. 2 hrs of tv or relaxing, another 2.5 hours of exercise, an hour of hammering through JQuery for Dummies and stoically resisting the time-hole required to put a Colorbox on my blog, every other moment spent entertaining or facilitating The Screeching Reign of Monsters. An alleged vacation. I describe children to those who have none thusly: imagine you and your SO, and then 2 more of you who are willful, moody, filthy, destructive, incompetent, always hungry, lose shoes, drop turds on the floor, and get themselves kicked by foals. There is so much work, interspersed with occasional planet-aligning moments of reading and sharing and wave-riding, bike rides and baby lifts and multi-layered mudball fights. Then there is so much work.
The riding was good, I’ve got few photos. Day 1 the tide was the lowest I’ve ever seen. I dropped into the Morua Estuary for the first time in a year, and did almost an hour of half mile laps along a hard crusty track to enjoy some strange. Day 2 I found a way to ride to the top of the big staircase on Whale Hill. Dropping in having not seen it in 2 months was a little dicey, but fed a weekend of aggressive shredding. I went big for the 8 step staircase behind The Village, several times. Riding home from a run for pastries I found a mile of skinnies along Hidalgo Blvd, 6 inches high, standing out from any sidewalks, with ramped entrances. I was hitting everything and holding the lines for 10, 15 yards. I was so stoked i hit it again the next day, got cocky, entered too fast and got sideways, then horizontal as I sailed off the bike. Fortunately dusty streets provide a mild lubricating layer and led to minimal road rash. My skin is thick enough to withstand sand.
I was talking with two Mexican friends when I heard the news. None of us understood why rentals in Rocky Point hadn’t instantly picked up, now that ‘merica was safer. I thought bin Laden was a myth trotted out by the Repubnicants every time they needed a ratings boost. How funny if Obama coopted that boogeyman for himself?
Whatever. The Iggles got a blue-chip guard in the first round.
Mexico is a state of mind. We are living in our minds, constructs, MiniMcMansion, 24 hr Lifetime Fitness, 1500 sq ft well-utilized sculpted yard. I’m trying to find the sweet spot – to get paid for my work outside of work, apply my mind to chores and sub-contract the rest at a much better rate. Its been a long time since I could get paid for overtime. I wanted to knock out a test plan for my contract gig, to pay for the trip, and balance the scales vs. my inner cheap jew basterdness. But i couldn’t, the motivation was lacking. Imperfection, adjustment, Mexico is a state of mind.
a lumpy airbed
salt-crusted shoes
dirt roadie-ing and the Caborca Road, about 65 miles in 6 hours, some mashing 9 mph upwind only to fly back at 17. Day 1 started strong.
I had no desire to explore, and little to even session, beyond the few things close to home. An 8 stepper i am just a little too scared to drop i manualed, an act of will upon my delicate constitution, and the second try felt the bike float away down to the ground. I’m still unsure it happened. It was beautiful. Then I nailed a 3 foot 90-degree turn at the bottom of a 180-degree staircase, something I’d never done in 20 tries. It helps to steer the whole way down the trial. Enough firsts to call off further challenges, and just bang out the calories. Rides with G I have time on my hands, and spotted another half dozen small drops and booters to keep me entertained. A few she tried with me, and begins to see what else is ridable, guiding herself from sand to hardback, coasting long downhills right behind me.
all 4 of my girls
Run! Alanazilla come destroy Tokyo!
G has has this Scooby Doo thing going on these days. I needed some cinder blocks to keep quaders out of the backyard. It was a haunted house, and the Mystery of the Drunken Tortilla.
clues!
why would a werewolf order chinese take-out?
fake blood!
set a trap
hide!
Oh No! Alanazilla back again destroy Tokyo!
a sun-baked layer of crust made for a fast track, and G learned to look for fresh. When Alana postholed it, we moved down the beach.
every 5th step on the top flight was extra long and broke up the increasing frequency that would have forced me into speed. Every step on the second flight was equally long enough for the entire middle to feel academic, an opportunity to come back into control, and the pitch on the last flight became a simple straight shot. Hardest part was avoiding the discarded bottle of Hershey’s syrup sitting in the middle of a step off the last turn – an attractive nuisance ready to shoot out from under my wheel. I coulda kicked it away on the hike up, but i don’t condone trail sanitation. The broken glass and rusted rebar and concrete blow made a high price for failure.
After nearly 40 rides without companionship, this weekend i gave up the idea of distance, in favor of freeride explorations, sprints and meanderings for fresh urban techiness. I found some other never-hit skinnies and jumps and staircases. This is the toughest trial in the city, thus far. The pic shows the steepness lost in the vid, but not the crusty and rusty and dusty with glass.
It did not get above 60 for 4 days; that is what extra clothes are for. A 5 day escape was awesome. We’ve never had a bad time in Mexico. Feeding the birds became a hobby for the weekend. We played with a new kite, Wii at night, Alana and G playing together led us to new places and times and epochs. First trips for the kids to the estuary and the peak on Whale Hill. Bike rides.
During a run for pastries and liquor, we encountered a squad of soldiers, strapped with automatic rifles, shopping in the pastry section with us. I encouraged G in the vociferous use of perdon and lo siento. It was all good, Mexicans love kids almost as much as pastries, and its hard to look scary when you are carrying a plate full of pink cupcakes.
G gave Kenga a big cheer and a hug as she shot out of daycare, after announcing to the world we were heading south. she knows the truck means a fun weekend. Even the cop that pulled Beckie near Ajo let us go, said we were the nicest people he’d ever pulled from Scottsdale.
lollypops are as crucial as DVDs for a pleasant journey, but not without consequences
ahh, Mexico…
…getting away from it all
“chollaball is leaving his underpants behind” was the other potential title for this post, but that simply had to suffice as my FB status.
I rode, but it was business-like and uninspired, maintenance miles. I read an entire book, for the first time in months and months.
so much fun for only $20
we 2 sailors are paddling in our boat. quite the brave little sailor she was
the dismount required tremendous acts of littleGirl Courage
a different kind of dismount
pirates at the Yo Ho Ho House
fly by night away from here, change my life again
later that day we saw the osprey heading towards the nest down the street from our house, with dinner in its talons. the next morning it flew right by the balcony with another meal while a chorus of babies cheered its approach.
me gusto helado, por favor
the beach was empty, but some people and their dog set up about 5 feet from us. Kila asserted her eminent domain.
G swam 5, 8, 10 yards from me to Beckie. last trip she wouldn’t stand to be released. that afternoon, she learned to bob in the tide by herself.
G later went galloping though the rocks while trying to make friends with other kids, not comprehending why they could not keep up.
Alana will not be far behind. She casually trotted 100 yards away from us chasing her sister. at least Kila was a responsible parent.
The State Dept issued a warning about unofficial roadblocks, that scared away an upcoming rental. Our management agency sent an explanation from the Chamber of Commerce for Rocky Point describing the roadblock as a traveler census. The Consulate in Nogales responded that they have information we do not, which they can not reveal, but which they are obligated to act upon if even one American might be at risk. Byron and I passed the roadblock consecutive weekends just outside Sonoita. It was boring and benign and they did not even ask us to stop. The Border Patrol checkpoint near Ajo is far more intimidating. Does the State Department have any accountability for the demonization of an entire town, and the complete destruction of our rental revenue? Apparently not, as the warning was issued by a civilian who volunteers at the Consulate, and the Consulate later admitted they had no evidence to justify the warning. Their solution after screwing the town’s Memorial Day revenue and receiving numerous complaints and calls to Senators McCain and Kyl: rescind the warning, and not even buy us dinner.
The only drugs I saw were from a guy in Old Port who sold me a pair of kid’s sunglasses, then tried to sell me some overpriced X. His pot smelled like a pizza – now that should get a serious government warning. The Superlay has an entire aisle dedicated to mayonnaise, and another exclusively for hot sauce, but sells not a single jar of horseradish for cocktail sauce – that should get an even sterner warning. Me riding like a hooligan – definitely deserves a warning. G watching the same Phineas and Ferb dvd for 4 straight days, Alana spilling my beer and pretzels in the sand, Kila dropping a deuce on the beach a quarter mile from the nearest plastic bag, 2.5 cases of beer and a half bottle of tequilla in one long weekend – warning, warning, warning, warning!!
G get less scared of the ocean every time she gets in, coming in with me and just her waterwings for a sunset swim. Alana gets more and more interesting, showing preferences and opinions, the most significant that she does NOT like being in the ocean. Weather could not have been better, 3 out of 4 days were nearly calm. And G finally got to buy some ice cream from the ice cream man.
If you are reading this, odds are you were invited and turned me down. whas a wigga gotta do to git some compny?
For about i week i was palpitating to hit the big staircase at Tesoro, channeling my inner Danny MacAskill, vibing into my adventure. I would have to be up hella early after driving the night before, or up hella early with a 1-day hangover on Sunday, or up hella early with a 2-day hangover on Monday. I picked option 1, and still got cockblocked by the guard at 7am. Its ok, in 6 months to a year, Tesoro too will be bankrupt, and no longer afford their guards like Cornoa del Sol.
I stalked the nearby streets on that side of the neighborhood in more detail than usual, itching for a new trial, and found what i thought was a For Sale condo complex. While i dithered trying to find the right line down the staircase, the owner came out and told me to get the fuck out. Ooops. Its pretty amusing when you see it in the vid.
The wrong kind of company dejected me, and drove me out the Caborca road so I could spin off my frustration. The colors were amazing, white and purple and orange and completely covering the stench from the dump. When I got to the dirt road into the oyster farms, I realized i had few good pictures from here, and something new would make up for my earlier rejections.
first coyote i’ve seen in RP
unlike me, he had a friend
15 minutes of slogging on a sandy road led me to a hardpack on the edge of a small tidal ledge. I rolled along it til the water retreated from the ledge. Jumping it made the slog worthwhile; i was pumped to hike across the mud of the estuary for 15 minutes rather than ride an hour home. Carrying the Hei Hei is easy, carrying so much lighter than the Heckler, like carrying Alana is easy, carrying so much lighter than Genevieve.
this poor guy was so forlorn her skittered away when i threw him a Caraba bar. He will be coyote food or roadkill soon.
new trials are everywhere, and the more open my eyes become the more i see. Its so cool that 2-3 footers have become routine, what is rideable increases every time i get on the bike. My worst hits of the weekend were riding home from the Superlay with 30lbs of pedialite and can openers and liquor and hitting a jagged uplifted slab in the sidewalk that nearly had me eating shit, and endo’ing through a sandy downhill into a sandier downhill coming down from the overlook by the estuary.
never saw this pedestrian crossing before, the seniorita and her daughter and the cars at the bottom never saw anyone ride it before
Imagine how cheap liquor would be if not for the bloated union workforce at the Superlay?
I got to fiddling with the new video clips, putting together my first extended riding vid. Not too bad for a first try. The timebox of background audio enforces rigorous editing, and i lopped about 50% off what I thought was an already-lean amount of film to make it down to about 3:40. My camera’s shortcomings are apparent in some of the scenes from the road – the bright colors of the flowers, the abjectness of the shanties, the irony of the condos, and the movements of the 2 coyotes get a little lost. I could easily have made this about 3x longer if I’d pulled in clips of all the other trials, but I mostly tried to get new things into the film instead of stuff I’ve posted before. It was very cool to use my tools (Windows Movie Maker, Vdub, and Super) on a sample project – definitely gave me a better feel for the features I want when i finally buy a video editing program.
The flies descended on Casa V the first temperate evening, ravenous, like wild dogs, like the feral cats who scooped up the turkey organs and innards we left outside for them. The sluggish economy hurting the animals and insects as well. When the wind picked up enough to keep them away, and keep us inside, most of them were dead already. I could not find a flyswatter at the Superlay, and in my failure i realized my *ahem* ‘locals’ knowledge’ is limited to the tequilla aisle and a fish salesman named Benny who i don’t think screws me too badly. Staring for 10 minutes at a package of what might-be sour cream and wondering if it was actually cream cheese or yogurt or butter had a profound downer affect on my chillaxin. When a nice woman from Texas with big hooters pointed me to the next aisle, and I finally saw the familiar ¡Philãdelphia box , i knew i was outmatched. Time to grab my liquor and head home! My cable lock blew up and forced me to hack through it for 10 minutes with my multitool while a bunch of local hombres sorta wondered why no one was arresting the gringo and sorta realized the pretty vest and pretty helmet and pretty shoes must go with the pretty bike. Then I threw out the lock, cause 4 liters of liquor and 2lbs of cream cheese was enough weight. This ensured I could not stop again, and would resort to killing flies with a magazine, a newspaper, a shop vac, a teva, a beer can, and a diaper.
6 visits ago, Beckie bought this from a vendor named Lupe.
Lupe has since said hi to us every visit. and Lupe’s partner Margarita had flyswatters. Beckie ran to the house for money, the ladies commented muy gorda, and were embarrassed i understood.
What can i say? She is a load.
i was kinda shocked at how much Lupe remembered us, but it makes sense when she prolly talked to Beckie for like 20 min selling her dresses. We hung out and kvelled for 10 minutes just to spend 250 pesos on flyswatters. Hella good selling too, usually i don’t even look up to say “no thank you” to the beach vendors, usually now i just let G say it for me. But even dad can’t be a dick to a solicitor when there’s a baby involved. good selling indeed.
Though Alana will stop being fat soon enough, since she pretty much doesn’t stop moving if she’s awake. The weekend was perfect for her to slink around on the beach for hours, and slink around on the tile floors for hours more. Except for crawling into sharp shells, or water, or pelican bones, or broken glass, or sharp gravel, or dead flies.
so tired…
Lupe indeed brought us a very cute very tinyDress for Alana the next day. It was unfortunately too chilly to wear. I’m wondering what else I can have delivered to me on the beach?
Its ok, in 6 months to a year, Tesoro too will be bankrupt, and no longer afford their guards like Cornoa del Sol.
