Saturday and Sunday!!

Since birth, god has bestowed upon me a number of blessings some of which include red hair, impeccable taste, freckles, and the ability to do hand stand push-ups. Above all these blessings, he gave me the greatest cousin in the world. Behold the Ricker:

Yeah, it’s obvious, this guy is the real deal.

The Ricker is always a good weekend.

Sunday starts in downtown Portland, next to taped-off crime scene, across from the Salvation Army and its lively patrons, at Voodoo Doughnuts. Voodoo Doughnuts has some crazy pastries. They have bacon covered maple bars, cap’n crunch-covered-pinky-sprinkly’s, different sorts of candy-bar-crumble topped choices, and their piece de resistance: one 16 inch chocalate covered – cream filled penis-shaped doughnut that was absolutely terrifying. They didn’t have bear claws.

My choice:

Standard chocolate frosted donut for the base. Oreo crumbles drizzled with peanut butter. It’s called the “Ol’ Dirty Bastard”. I don’t like sweets much, but I like ODB, aced that donut. Then drank a quad shot espresso kicker from dutch babies. Danced and sang in the car, with the Ricker, all the way to Astoria!!

The Ricker car-dances very well, and knows all the words to “Pour some sugar on me”, all the words.

Found a farmer’s market in Astoria and immediately found some corn hats to wear. Favorite Shirt:

We had to quit wearing the hats, when most of the ladies in Astoria started following us around, demanding attention.

We hiked from downtown to the Astoria Column:

The streets on the way are demarcated thusly:

On a clear day, I would imagine the view from the top of this column, that lies atop of Astoria’s hills, would be enchanting. However, no one knows exactly what the view from the top is like, because Astoria has yet to have a clear day. Since 1811. It rains constantly in Astoria. So much so, the street-names are stamped in the sidewalks at crossings, so the pedestrian can save having to look up into the rain to read street-signs:

I have started to enjoy the rain in Astoria though. I think what would bother me, after a while, is not the rain, but rather, the absolute lack of sun. The sky just sort of glows. Weird.

Anyhow, Ricker wanted a piggy-back ride down a hill. I obliged. We started gaining speed. We slammed. We spent the rest of the day with muddy pants, looking like we had had accidents.

A banana slug pooped in Ricker’s hand. They have clear poop, pictured here.

While walking down the river, by some docks, a random car stops and the driver says, “Hey Garret, did you get a fishing job yet?”. The Ricker was astonished that I am known in Astoria. It was my boy Chuck, Captain of the Elsie out of Warrenton. Safe sailing bro!

They also know me, by name, at the pub. I have only been there twice. Do work.

We went to Rogue Pier 39, I got my free pint!!

It’s the one on the left. Brutal Bitter is the name of it. Cold. Free. Delicious.

Free beer tastes better than normal, paid for beer. Also, that beer was served to me by a very pretty woman, who lost a bet. That greatly adds to the taste.

She said I can come back for another free pint, if I do something crazy that impresses her. That is a dangerous bet. I want free pints though, so I will have to dream something up.

I had a similar, working relationship with my bud Shannon in college. I did the majority of her homework, and she let me drink for free at my favorite bar in Tucson. I like that I keep making these arrangements.

Went to some more pubs. Had some oysters, cheese steaks, bean dip, and popcorn for lunch. We are trying to bulk up.

For dinner, the Ricker and I put a beating in at Burger King. Finished 9 sandwiches and fries. Dollar Menu!

Before Sunday with the Ricker, was Saturday in Waldport.

Saturday starts with a run, swim in the ocean, and then a stolen shower from the state campgrounds.

On the way from shower to truck, I meet Roger from Eugene.

This dude, Roger, has a bunch of colorful rocks and books spread out all over a table. Yes! I absolutely HAVE to stop and chat with him. Turns out Roger is an astrologist. After about 20 minutes of BS, I say OK bro let’s hear it.

He starts by saying that I have an affinity for water.

I’m wearing swim trunks wet from the ocean on a day when only people who love the water would go in, it is freezing. Not impressed Roger.

He then says that I like the water because I am a wood ox. He goes on that it must be that I am born in either 74 or 85. 85, he says. Then he says that it must be that I am born in December, because he knows that I am a Sagittarius.

Big deal, you can guess birthdays, bro.

Roger continues. I have an old soul he says.

I’m getting sick of hearing that.

He says that I always date girls that are born in the summer. He tells me why a number of relationships I have had didn’t work out. He tells me exactly why I am on the road, what I am learning, and what I can expect to learn, because of the stars in the sky, the year it is and my astrological signs.

Roger earns about a 97% at this point.

He says I need to date summer girls, but not ones born in 86 or 83, like my last two girlfriends.

100%.

I become extremely uncomfortable. I am weirded out. I leave.

Before I go though, I gave Roger two rocks that I picked up in AZ. One was a volcanic rock from the top of Humphrey’s Peak, the other a pink quartz from wet beaver creek. He is ecstatic. He starts going on about his collection, power quartz rocks, superstitions, blah blah.

North.

Portland. Ricker made hamburgers on an electric grill that uses pellets. Things are a little different up in Portland.

During dinner, I sat next to Allie. She is 10. Kids often make for the best dinner conversations.

After dinner, U of A won their football game.Undefeated 4-0.

Good saturday. Good Sunday. Good Weekend.

Before that, my week was pretty nondescript. I spent most of it putting out resumes and hanging out at the beach. I have been gathering information and equipment in preparation to become the world’s greatest dungeness crab fisherman. I drank some whiskey with elk-hunters. I watched Rio Bravo about 5 times, took notes. I watched U of A beat Iowa, then went dancing on a big Salem saturday night. Jogged a lot. Read a lot.

I also worked on perfecting skills I found on a list, on the floor of an outhouse, in Astoria, haha.

This trip continues to be unbelievable for me. I have met some characters, learned a ton about myself and life, and have learned how to pay attention. It is scary to be by myself so much, but I have to go at this alone.

Anyhow, this is where I woke up this morning – This is why I keep it up:

This week: Fishing, Writing, Looking for Work, Seattle by train, Mariner’s last home game.

Pictures for fun:

PEACE and LOVE!!!

Knots.

Joseph is alone, on his journey, for most of the day now. You can call it alone. There is an abundance of flora et fauna surrounding him. There is weather. There is plenty to keep him busy.

He goes about his day, in a most aggressive of manners. He knows not that he is preparing for battle. He is simply practicing the activities that make men great. He does it for love. He does it because of the list he found on an outhouse floor in Astoria. He has started to mark his progress on the list:

Loves of Earthstory’s Greatest Men

1. Map-Folding –Mastered
2. Knots – In Progress
3. Knife-Fighting – In Progress (He is no good with fists. 1-11 career. 10 by way of KO. 2KO’s in one fight lost in Nogales. His only win a sucker punch on the run.)
4. Classic Literature – Good Base. Needs Work.
5. Relationship-Failing – Mastered years ago.
6. Dancing – Mastered.
7. Charm – Not yet started. Hopefully this comes easy. He grows tired.
8. Pastry Discernment – Bear Claw vs. Maple Bar. “The Great Debate” He will get this tomorrow at a small café in Waldport, for practice of course.

He figures he is at 65%. That got him through college. However, it won’t be enough for this epic, forthcoming battle. 65% is evisceration by crustacean. 65% is embarrassment, death. Curiously the man strives much harder at this list than he did at the Eller College of Management. Rest assured mom.

Knots. Today is Bowline day. At dawn he gets up. He makes coffee, French press, of course. He looks to his knot manual. Bowline. The bowline knot is popular amongst sailors. Yep, he utters. The knot creates a secure loop at the end of a rope without requiring a pass through. Understood. It begins with an underhand knot,….. He reads. He learns.

Taking rope that his Grandfather Bruce, a man who believes in rope, gave him, he begins. He ties the first few bowlines slowly, methodically. He is patient in his practice. His approach is timeless.

He draws, from his tool-box, a tarp. He ties a bowline in the first corner, slowly. It’s perfect. Beginner’s luck, he thinks. He undoes it. Again he ties the knot, quicker. He undoes it. This goes on until Bowline becomes muscle memory. He is a natural. All four corners of the tarp are tied with textbook bowlines. The other ends of the rope are tied to trees and the remnants of a Japanese internment corral, where he makes camp.

The tarp now hangs triumphant over camp, he has cover from the rain. Thanks bowline. This afternoon he will undo his morning’s work and redo it, to gain practice. Another iteration at evening, under the influence of alcohol. At night once more he will retie the tarp, pitch black, cold. Mastery.

Tomorrow, the clove hitch.

Knots. Another stepping-stone in becoming great. It won’t be long until he is ready, skills perfected for the fight of his life. The fight that will define him and leave his name in this world as a legacy. He knows not of this fight, he simply is working the list.

Walter the crab knows all too well how this plays out. Walter watches from the depths of the bay below the man’s camp. Joseph is a knot-tier now.  Shit! Walter exclaims, which is barely understandable underwater. The world’s largest crustacean slams both of his Volkswagen-sized claws into the jagged ocean floor he calls home, breaking volcanic towers into bits. He knows the time is coming! He has a supreme confidence though, for he, himself, is no slouch.

Walter is widely considered the world’s best ship-capsizer, with 137 known solo capsizes to his name. He travels to Japan every year, where he holds the last 26 consecutive “Shark-Killer” awards both for quantity and style. He is the only crab, or beast for that matter, to successfully eat a 44 person, all-black church choir. He is responsible for the BP oil-well burst. He is republican. He is savage. He is the business.

There is a hesitation, however, in Walter with fighting his next rival. He knows it is inevitable, but something of this wild, red-haired man frightens him.  He has deadened many foes, but never has he faced an antagonist with such a deplorable nature. Something in the way this man drinks cheap wine directly from the bottle and dances to Indie rock in his long underwear bottoms. Something about this man’s reluctance to cut his hair.

It is all too much at the moment. Walter must equip himself. He turns and leaps out from a massive underwater precipice over the depths, towards Mexico. He is headed there to get ½-ton custom brass knuckles fitted. His knows this redheaded devil has fallen to the metal knuckle before.

The story of THIS crab and THIS guy, is all happening at once.

Bowline. iPhone cord. Eyes Closed.

I am off to the beach, to catch both zzzzzzz’s and rays, Bro!

Fantastic Weather!! Well, weather at least.

Mt. St. Helens –

I for the first time in my life got, what I call now, “Northfaced up”. This is when you have to wear waterproof clothing, or run risk of frost bite.

I really enjoyed having this thought on that mountain: “I am 5 miles from the truck, on top of a volcanic ridge, in sub-freezing temps with 50 mph winds, right in the business.” I also love the idea that mother nature has control over our circumstances and even our lives. The vulnerability that is felt in the elements is exciting. I took of my shirt for a few seconds up there, in order to get “Northfaced up”. Not a good idea. Felt very alive though.

I summited. My hands went completely numb for about 30 minutes around the top. I know this because I had to concentrate very hard to open my victory High Life, and it took about 2 minutes of strenuous effort. I can usually open a beer while doing a host of other things (e.g. working, reading, biking, skating, swimming, cooking, running, fishing, anything really) with little or no effort. That beer was different, it was difficult. You can be certain that it was absolutely worth the struggle.

After I drank my champagne of beers for victory, I ran down that mountain. When you get moving coming down, you can jump and the wind pushes you sideways before you land. It is sandy for the top mile or so of the hike, so you can jump away from the mountain and catch some real air! Shred the gnar, you know?!?! I love that.

The visibility was minimal when I summited, but on the way down I was able to get some shots of the landslide that I hiked up.

Hike up:

Pictures of the way up, on the way down.

Forest at bottom of hike. Different color than OR.

Ran into a deer friend along the way. HAHAH. That’s for Paddy O’Shaw, king of the witty one-liner.

Before St. Helens, I was in Astoria. The people are nice there. I really appreciate that little town. There bartender at Rogue Pier 39 owes me a pint, for summiting St. Helens. She is very pretty, I want my pint.

I spent a couple of days there, fishing for a fishing job. Talked to a bunch of people. One guy in particular had a really small boat, in poor condition. He goes out for 4-5 days at a time, 40-50 miles off-shore. Not safe at all, exciting though. That is the job I need.

In Astoria, they have had 3 days of sunshine this summer, not in a row. It rains there all day long. Different types of rain:

Foggy, Misty, Milky Rain – It doesn’t fall like drops, it just sort of hangs around. This type of moisture is of no consequence if I stand still. At best it will make my beanie a little wet. Driving through this requires a 5-6 second interval of the wipers.

Drizzle Rain – Actual drops now, medium pace. This is just enough rain to get wet. Not terribly wet, just enough to make you not want to be in it. I run in this rain from truck to door, door to door, whatever. 2-3 second interval of the wipers used here.

Tree Rain – This rain is sneaky. This rain gets its name from its source. When the sky clears (no rain but still overcast), I take my beanie and jacket off. Ahhh, how nice! BAM! Rain off of the tree, TREE RAIN. Big drops – directly on the head, down the shirt. I shake my finger at the tree. Well done tree and rain, well done.

Business Rain (my favorite so far) – Actual drops at an alarming frequency. Run the wipers full speed, baby. Drive by feeling, no sight, rubbing is racing boys! This rain is really the most enjoyable. This is because it has the ability to defeat you. It also gives you the opportunity to defeat it. Follow: I park at the coffee store. Mmm coffee. I watch out of the window of the truck. I wait for the rain to subside just enough, 10 or 15 seconds, so that I may traverse the parking lot. It doesn’t subside. Mmm coffee though. I make the leap. I start at a run. No use. I am soaked and running now. The rain has won the fight at this point. But then it happens. I reach the point of indifference. I stop running. I start walking. I look up. I am soaked. I stop in the middle of the parking lot, completely wet. I stand there, looking up. I stop caring. I am soaked but willing to be soaked. I go in the coffee store after a while. I get a coffee. Mmmm. I win.

There are other types I am sure, but I haven’t discovered these yet. Give it time. I also think that in Astoria the rain will mix with wind soon. Different types of rain with different types of wind. Combinations!! More stuff to enjoy!!

* I wasn’t able to get picture of Astoria yet. Best Buy gave me a two-year warranty on my camera. The one thing not covered is full-submersion in water. Astoria is fully submerged in water. Google Astoria if you want pictures. *

Before Astoria, I was in Newport. Pretty scenery there:

I drank a beer with the president of Rogue. Nice Guy.

I picked up a hitchhiker there. His name was “Jimmy the Rail”. He offered me $40 dollars for a ride to Corvallis. I have never hung out in Corvallis. I gave him a ride for free. He was stoked.

Jimmy the Rail said he was a gangster. He looked like an old fisherman. One of his fingers was bent. Broken probably and never fixed. He reminded me of my Uncle Mike in Tucson. What’s up Unc?? I get along with those kind of dudes really well. I got along with Jimmy.

He wasn’t a gangster, he was just a drunk. Nice guy though. I found out later that he gets 86’d a lot from bars in Corvallis. He got 86’d from a few while I was there. He went home. I made some friends. We were hanging out, drinking beers. One guy asked me what school I went to. He then informed me that Thee, University of Arizona was a piece of shit, University of Northern Mexico, etc. I asked him what school he went to. Oregon State University. I forgot OSU is in Corvallis. I offered remarks of reciprocity toward him. I said some things I shouldn’t have culminating in me yelling, “F&*# the Beavers, BRO!!” Everybody heard that…. Yikes!

That started a small riot. The bouncer helped me out of there. I ran down the street, jumped a fence, ran down another street. A couple miles later, I found a Safeway. Bought a sandwich. Took a cab around looking for my truck. Couldn’t find it. Got out of the cab and walked through downtown Corvallis. Hid in bushes when people would come near. Walked about 10 or so miles in circles. Found the truck though!!!! Slept in the truck behind the Beaver Tail Brewery. Slept with my shovel, J.I.C. Left promptly from Corvallis upon waking.

A girl I was hanging out with that night called me the next day. She said the situation was funny, I should come back and hang out sometime, funny guy, etc. I told her Corvallis is probably a good place not to go again for a while, or ever.

I drove north. Northern coast.

Somewhere along the way, I was in Tillamook. They give free samples of cheese. I went through the line voluntarily once. 12 or so pieces of cheese. I took the tour, all roads there lead to rome, got stuck in the line again. 12 or so pieces of cheese. Both times, I had greedy people behind me, pressing on. I had to hurry. If the chance to eat 24 cubes of different kinds of cheese at a rapid pace ever comes your way, pass it up. They have a cheese there called squeaky cheese. I think I am lactose intolerant now.

Somewhere else along the way was Woodland, WA. I call it Woodbridge, fits better. * I am looking for a job like Lewis and Clark had – naming things. I would be good at it. I would work hard at it.*

The Ricker met me at the Safeway there. I taught him how to play guitar and dance in a parking lot. We went to the restaurant Burgerville. Really weird place. They have “burger spread” for sale there. If you shake the jar it comes in, it makes you want to not eat there. We ate there. The burger-lady kept trying to keep our attention, she would hardly let us eat. I think she was in love with me. I felt not the same for her. I love the Ricker instead, let me explain.

The Ricker speaks of such things as the “Uncle Bone and the Donut Dance”. He drives small import cars with loud bass and listens to “Bass Music” while wearing penny loafers. He does work almost constantly. He is from Nebraska. He had a seizure at Arriba’s, ambulanced out. He is the man.

We went to what an 85 year old lady at the gas station next to Burgerville said was a “biker bar”. It was the only place in Woodbridge open passed 10pm. It wasn’t a biker bar. It was called Merwin’s. Perfect name.

Picture this please:

One biker in the bar. He has two canes. He uses one to walk, one he just carries in his other hand. He has a red bandana. His shirt is an airbrushed thunderstorm. His necklace has a bear’s tooth. His girlfriend is horrendous. She does some incredible dance move to a Nickelback song and Ricker almost dies laughing at her.

The bartender has potbelly. She is a girl. She keeps ending her sentences in -izzle. She says Ricker and I are born in seventhrizzle and eightyfizzle. She says that she is older than both of us put together for shizzle. She is 29, she is bad at math. She gets us two Pabst Blue Rizzles. She gets annoying quick.

They have open mic night there on sundays. I told the bartender to expect me this sunday. She asked what I played, which gave me an open-ended opportunity. I immediately explained to her that I grew up in the church, I play mostly hymnals and prayer songs. I told her I can bring my all-black choir and tear the roof off of that place. See you sunday. She believed me.

The rest of the bar is what you would expect. Men shooting billiards, very poorly. Some dude in there had very long arms, very short torso. Another guy says to his wife before going out, “Hey woman, I aint gunna wear sleeves tonight!!” He sits in a wife-beater shirt, at the corner of the bar. He is drunk as hell. He is watching Jeff Gordon race radio controlled cars on ESPN.

One hot girl there. Nevermind, she wasn’t hot. A mid 90’s honda in good condition looks like a Ferrari, when you put it in a junkyard.

Everybody knows you are not a Woodbridgean. This is because your body is proportionate, you are not a mouthbreather, you are wearing sleeves, and you don’t have the blank gaze of a Woodbridgean.

Merwin’s.

I am running out of steam. I am running out of things to summit. I am out of work.

I am going to go to the south coast for a few days and crab, clam and fish. Fish for fishing jobs as well. I have to contribute soon, as I am feeling restless.

Southern coast:

On the list: I have to finish writing my epic tale Walter the Crab – Beast Beyond Measure: The story of Garret Zuppiger Day. I also want to see a Mariner’s game. Lastly, I must put an end to the endless question. Bear Claw or Maple Bar?

Peace and Love!!!

Just Coastin’…

Oregon is fantastic. Me catching some zzzzz’s at the new office:

Weed, CA is a fantastic place!! Shout out to Robert, Amy and Jenn and thanks for showing me a good time there!!

After the last post was made from the College of the Siskiyous, I went back Mt. Shasta Brewing Co with my Weed CA buds and had some more beers. We went to Robert’s. He played some Guatemalan songs, we drank some more beer and hung out. Through lengthy interdisciplinary discussion involving calculus, metaphor, anthropology, geology, neurology and beer, we had the entire world figured out. It was right about then that I drove north a couple miles and slept in a rest area.

After some zzzzz’s, I cruised up to Klamath Falls. I love that little city. They have tractors on boats that grab logs out of the river. That has to be one of the coolest jobs in the world, by far. While there, I also found a local bakery, bought two bear claws and a coffee. I love bear claws!!! I think the maple bar is the only pastry that holds a candle to the bear claw, I think the bear claw ultimately takes the cake though, so to speak. Went North.

Crater Lake –

Wizard Island zoom shot:

In the visitor center, I spoke with a lady-ranger about buying property on Wizard Island, or possibly the whole island. She said it wasn’t for sale. I tore a piece of paper from the Crater Lake National Park Map, wrote  ‘$3,500 american’ on one side and my cell number on the other side. I said to her as I passed it nonchalantly over the counter, “Maybe this will change your mind.” Rapidly, I turned and exited. I did my best.

When negotiating real estate deals, be stern, be confident, but be fair. I thought on my way out – she is lucky to receive any offer in this economy.

*Uncle Jeff – The offer for the oak-creek-house still stands – $4,500 american , as I have not received a call-back concerning Wizard Island. I would advise that you move on the offer quickly though, snow is coming to the splendid Oak Creek. Driving time to and from the brewery will increase, making your property less desirable for Bruce and I. Bruce and I will have to reconsider our offer and I warn that it will be considerably less. Move fast on our offer brother, do not miss the money train!!*

Jeff’s back porch standing in the creek:

Jeff’s share of the creek:

Back to Crater Lake –

I hiked down to the lake. The lady-ranger guarding the lake informed me that the surface temperature of the lake was 36 degrees Fahrenheit and the air temperature at that time was 40. I said that’s cold. She went on to say that a snow front was coming in about 20 minutes time. I said hold this camera.

She was right. I would guess that my in-shorts thermometer read about 36 degrees or so, I can’t say for sure – it was very hard to see. Haha.

After the swim, I managed to run up the 3/4 mile 800 vertical foot trail in about 3 minutes. Dead-sprint with a cigarette ablaze for warmth. I left the park as the snow started falling.

Oregon is very green. All sorts of green in fact:

Oregon is very green, because oregon is very wet. All sorts of wet in fact. I found a place to camp in the Umpqua River Valley, 4000ft lower in elevation and west of the park. Soon after paying for a night’s use of the campground, it started raining. It rained for about 16 solid hours. Sometimes just a tad more than a sprinkle, sometimes a downpour, but nevertheless consistently it rained for 16 hours. When the rain finally ceased, I was so excited!! I french-pressed and drank 2 pots of coffee, then danced for about 2 hours or more. I know that with the amount of practice I have been doing, I have just got to be one of the best dancers in the country. Here is a sample of what went on:

After revolutionizing the world of dance as we know it, following the Umpqua River due west, I headed for the coast.

If this embed doesn’t work, here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rowRMwupSj8

Some of the smaller towns in Oregon are a little trashy. Here is an example I found along the drive, in Roseburg:

The coast. No clouds. Sunshine. 70 degrees. Slight onshore breeze. Also called a seabreeze.

I really enjoy lighthouses. In the old days men who worked at the lighthouse had it made. They cleaned the lenses, filled the kerosene for the lamp and looked out at the ocean through a telescope all day. They occupied a share of the triplex next to the lighthouse, on the coast, with two other families. They farmed vegetables. They harvested deer, elk, crab, salmon, and clams. I would have really liked to have had that job.

Inside the lens of the lighthouse:

The Department of Homeland Security is in charge of that lighthouse now, to keep us safe. There is a whole complex of housing there to administer the lighthouse, even though it is merely tradition and decor. We have GPS. I would imagine this is all done at a greater expense, inflation adjusted, to the American people, as well. That is an entirely different writing assignment though. I don’t want that lighthouse job today, for the feds, enough said.

Camping on the coast is expensive. I managed however to find a free spot:

There seems to be an anti-Japanese sentiment here on the coast of Oregon. There are lookout towers everywhere and lighthouses were used to watch for the kamikazis. I think these corrals in my camp are not for horses, but rather for Japanese internment. I could be wrong, but it makes camping here a lot more exciting!! I have to use them for something, and I failed to bring my horse!!

I have been hanging out on the beach for the past few days waiting for inspiration. Today I read the sunday edition of The Register Guard from Eugene. Cover to cover, front to back, found no inspiration. Protests for and against muslim community center in NY during 9-11, editorials on the pro’s and con’s of Keynesian type stimulus packages, ALL NOT INSPIRING!!!

I am not ready to head back into the city yet. I think instead I will start driving North today. I want to see Astoria. When I get there, if I feel like it, I might go to Washington. WA has some pretty cool sights to see, a couple of national parks. I might spend a while there.

If for no other reason….. I want to press my luck!!

Tangent: I have heard that some of my pictures are now desktops in cubicles amongst friends and family. Awesome!!

Here are some shots along the way, that I thought would be worth sharing:

The trade calls these macros, I believe. They are fun to take. –

Dancing on Half Dome in Yosemite.

Super-Tangent: If I had the power, I would find a way to get rid of this piece of shit. Blow it up!!! That would be spectacular!!! Cheers Edward Abbey!!

Get Rad!!

It is time! Get Rad!! No more snoozing behind the wheel of life! It is time to embrace the gift of life and its beauty!! We need to scream into the telephone!! Get Rad!! It is exciting. No more wasting days!! The time has come!! I am so pumped!!

I write this update from the bar at the Mt. Shasta Brewing Company in Weed, CA. I am having a porter. Next up is the jalapeño weed ale.

I have had an entire week of badassedness. I have been just ridiculously excited for days-on-end now!! It is the season!! If it is coffee time, let us use the French press!! If it is time to mange, let us cook!! We should all be exercising with brutal vigorousness!! Until our limbs are sore with anger and disgust!! When it comes time to smoke, we shall roll our own!! Do Work!!! When it is time to dance, let us move all four limbs simultaneously!! Let us disrobe for no reason!! Let us sing, Let us live, Let us breathe!! Not merely through the motions, not merely respirate, let us make an exchange with our surroundings!!! Be it human or otherwise!! The time is now!!

Happenings this week:

Monday: Lunch with my Swiss Grandfather and his girlfriend Mary. I had a great time with them. We ate at Marie Calender’s. Grandpa Frank had banana cream pie. Good choice, it’s in the blood. He shared with no one, haha. He told me that he loves what is over the next hill. I completely understand and agree with him. They bought me a tank of gas, they told me they love me. I love them, I went north, they to the mountains.

Tuesday:

Sequoia –

Such a radical place!! Largest tree in the world is there. They have it fenced off. I jumped the fence, had to. I touched the LARGEST TREE IN THE WORLD!!! I had to spend some time with it, it is important to BE the story, not just SEE the story!! That tree is 3200 years old. So sick.

I hiked up to Pear Lake in that park. Beautiful!!! I had lunch on the lake, no one else around. Swam in that lake, had to. The lake was much warmer than it should have been. That hike was my first time seeing the sheer granite faces that make up the Sierras. I saw a bear there too. I tried to get close enough to fight it. I have been waiting for a good chance to beat up a bear.

Wednesday:

North to Fresno. Great place to never visit! I went to REI, Trader Joe’s and In-and-Out.  Double-Double animal style. Trying to fight off having Bruce punch more holes in my belt. Sidenote: Cassie Gertz sent me out of Palm Springs with a bottle of Charles Shaw Cab. I have been wine-drinking since. Northern California is the perfect temperature for drinking wine. I picked up my travel companion Charles “2-Buck-Chuck” Shaw in Fresno. Also some dried mangoes!!  Fantastic. Bought a French press for the Jetboil at REI. Headed to Yosemite.

Yosemite –

Yosemite Valley is unbelievable. I obtained some maps for the hike up Half Dome. I called my little brother Elliott. I had to check on him. I worry about him spending all that time inside auditing and studying tax. I feel safer with cliffs and bears than what he has to overcome in a day. I called Ellis. He is an inspiration. Every time I think that I can call him and surprise him with something that I have done or am going to do, he has done it. I will catch up one day bro!! I ran out of people to call starting in Ell.

Charles Shaw, my road companion, convinced me that the only place to stay before going up half dome in the morning, was in the trailhead parking lot. I wasn’t convinced at first, he talked me into it after a while though.

Knock, knock, knock!! Park Ranger!! Can you please step out of the vehicle, so that we can talk?

I have never had to negotiate with authority whilst only wearing my long underwear pants and my ranger hat (thank you Grandpa Lew). I could have sworn that the lady-ranger giggled, when she saw my attire, or lack thereof.

I told her that I was training to be a ranger myself, hence the hat, and that I was making sure the trailhead parking lot was in order for the night. No need to worry, everything looks OK.

She took my driver’s license and called it in. She inquired as to whether I had weapons in my possession. In the end I would say she thought I was a little charming. She pointed me toward a free campsite. Thank you lady-ranger. I can only imagine the jails inside of Yosemite are cold, filled with Indians, and suck.

Thursday:

Half Dome!!!! 18 miles of walking!!! 5000 vertical feet of climb. Loved it!!! Got into the business on the last ½ mile. Pictures.

You can see the business that is the last part of the trail below.

I stood on top of this cliff below.

Went north. Found a great spot to camp in the meadows in the north park. Charles Shaw and I hung out with some chubby girls from Azusa Pacific. I think that is a school. He liked them more than I did. Haha.

Friday:

Slept in. Had some mechanical problems leaving Yosemite. Napa gave a free battery under warranty, I rewired my cigarette lighter to charge my phone. I overcame.

Heard some people talking about Burning Man. They were burning the effigy that weekend. I want to go so bad, but I feel that I would need to spend more than just a weekend there.

Tahoe –

Sucked. Big, Big Bear Lake. Tons of people. Swam in the lake. 2^nd deepest in the country. Had to.

Lassen –

Got there at night. Slept in the parking lot of the trailhead. Didn’t get caught, score one for my team.

Saturday:

Hiked Bumpass Hell to King’s Creek. Crazy place, the west side of the park.

I thought about leaving, but got an email from the honorable tree doctor himself, Ellis. He told me of a free place to camp on the east end of the park, and some must-do hikes. I went immediately. When Ellis speaks, I listen.

I got to the campground. It was free. Thanks.

Frank from Susanville, CA brought me over some watermelon that the Mennonites gave his wife. It was good. I slept well Saturday night.

Sunday:

Hiked the cinder cone from butte lake. A professor at the U of A says, “It is beautiful, it is perfect.” He was right. Gorgeous hike. Pictures.

Snag Lake below, I swam in that. Cold.

Butte Lake below. I swam in that. Very cold.

I got back to the campground. Frank and his wife offered me a tent. I refused, explaining that I sleep in my truck. It’s fun. They insisted. I have a tent now. I told him I had nothing to give him in return. He said he didn’t need anything, but only that I give something to somebody down the road. Thanks Frank.

Frio como culito de penguino en el pinchi “tent”. That is the first time I have typed pinchi, I think I spelled it wrong.

Monday:

Camped and read, all day. Talked to some people up there. Their nephew was one of my old wrestling coaches. Small world.

Went to Manzanita lake and did laundry. Took a 7 minute shower, boiling hot, awesome. Shaved also. Good day.

Also it is important to note that I have been practicing dancing in my campsite every afternoon, and practicing my photograph poses. I am getting really good at the both of them.

Today:

Drove up to Weed, CA. Great Place. Brewery is good. Jalapeno ale – weird. Like a liquid poore brothers jalapeno chip. I got the amber for my second round.

This post was finished at the local community college.

Next Stop – Oregon.

Very Busy with Activities!!

I have been involved in so many activities lately!!

My bud Cassie gave my bud Nick and I haircuts yesterday!! We looked very sharp and decided that family pictures were necessary. There is a Sears at the mall here in Palm Springs, so we went there. We were fortunate in that we were able to pick our own backdrops. We chose the “moon in the sky” and “fence in the field”. We also had a doric roman column and some plastic flowers. The lady doing the camera work kept talking about “tummy shots” and Nick kept talking about his “douglass fir”. Cassie wore a child sized tutu. The pictures turned out very nice.

Left: Nick, Cass and I are really sending it out in this one.  The small picture in the middle left is Nick’s favorite. It features a “tummy shot” and Nick flexing with his “douglass fir” out. It was very hard to setup for, but worth it. Good quality shot.

Right: This masterpiece features a gun fight scene, a three man tummy shot and my favorite shot, bottom left. I have the flowers on the moon. Nick has a toy truck. Cassie’s favorite is the gun fight scene, top right.

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On Monday I left Page and went to Point Sublime on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. The road out there was in very poor repair. I put a new dent in the ’94. This point is about 30 feet wide and a couple hundred feet long. It is like a giant diving board 5,000 ft. above rock. Standing on this nightmare reminded me just how scared of heights I am. After having a cold beer to calm my nerves, I played some sublime tunes on the guitar and had another cold beer. I was only up there for about 45 minutes before I came back down. I was terrified the entire time I was on that point.

The North Rim of the Grand Canyon has Buffalo. Kevin Costner calls them “tatanka”. It is very cold up there at night as well.

I woke up at 2:30am, freezing, and decided to drive to Bryce. I got there just before sunrise. Bryce Canyon is a awkwardly surreal place. “Hoodoos” are abnormally shaped standing rock columns. There is an abundance of “Hoodoos” in Bryce Canyon National Park. I hiked 9 or so miles and took pictures. There is no shade or water there.

Zion is fantastic!! Has to be one of the more beautiful places in the world. I found a place to camp on public lands 8 miles west of the park. Seconds after parking, I got to meet the great Leroy.

I met Leroy on day 30 of his “40-day sojourn with god”. He told me of the message god gave him. The message was this: Leave your family and job in Virginia Beach, hitchike to Utah and spend 40 days in Zion. We immediately became friends and I really liked staying in Leroyville. He looked like a meth head, but he was a christian. He was also the mayor of Leroyville. Some people don’t look like their names are correct. Like my friend BK, he looks like a Kevin or a Taylor, not a BK. Leroy looks like a Leroy.

I spent 3 days, two nights in Leroyville. They went like this: wake up at sunrise, hike Zion and take pictures, swim in the river and drink beer all afternoon, siesta, read a little, and then drink and argue with Leroy about god for a few hours. Leroy didn’t drink. He mostly did the god arguing while I drank. Leroy smoked a lot of cigarettes while he acted out scenes from the old testament. He also never talked quietly, in fact he yelled most of the time.

I didn’t wear a shirt the entire time I was in Leroyville. Utah has beer that is not really beer. It made my head hurt. I hiked 20 or so miles in Zion, some of which was in a river that was just deep enough to allow full 55 degree fahrenheit submersion of my undercarriage. That proved to be uncomfortable for miles at a time. Very cold, enough said. Thumb trick used. Another hike was mostly on a cliff about 1600 feet off of the deck. Intense hiking in Zion. Beautiful place though.

I left Leroyville in the afternoon. It was raining. Leroy had 8 more days to find god when I left. He said he would pray for me. Having 8 days to find god must be very stressful.

I have met some characters out on the road:

Leroy – backstory above.

Larry or Jerry – I forget which name he uses. He is a falconer. That is a person that keeps eagles as pets and hunts with them. He told me that most falconers don’t have wives or girlfriends. I agree. He talked about Genghis Kahn a lot.

Bob and Sandy – They hiked up some of Humphrey’s with me. They were from NC and were on their honeymoon. I want to say Sandy was in her early 50’s and Bob was in his late 60’s. He told me, in confidence, that he was robbing the cradle. While she was leading us up the mountain, Bob said that he has a hard time keeping up with her, that he finds himself mostly behind her and doesn’t mind because he enjoys the view. That a boy Bob.

Pete – He is the guy who shot the arrow at the SUV. He ran his noisy generator all night and day. He also taught his 12 yr old son n-word jokes by the campfire. He wasn’t very interesting. He looks like Leroy, he makes the list.

Palm Springs. Nick worked a half day friday. We drank beer and watched “how it’s made” all day. We learned how to mark yarn, wool, screwdrivers, tractors, light bulbs, q-tips and much more. Cassie came home. We couldn’t decide between mexican food and sushi. We went to a mexican food place and had red beers, chips and salsa. We then went and had sushi and saki bombs. We were really drunk. We came home and drank more. Nick and I beat Cass and Lyd at Taboo.

Great Friday and Saturday. It is sunday now we are watching movies and having coffee. Great Sunday.

Next: Hanging out with my Grandfather from Switzerland, then on to Sequoia.

The Highest Man in Arizona!!!

I have done it, I have become the highest man in Arizona!! Not Matt-Erra-High, I’m speaking of elevation!! Humphrey’s Peak no longer eludes me!! 12,633ft, and your boy Garret Zuppiger STANDS atop it!

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This is being written from a very dodgy hotel room in Page, AZ. I decided to treat myself to a nice shower and bed after having been outside for a week. The AC and fridge are both hot in here, and I didn’t dare go sub-covers last night in the bed.  With that said, Page is a good place to stay away from. People walk the streets at night here, and not like the people on 36th st. These people are a special blend of drunk indians and homeless old cowboys. It adds a lot to the the aura of the town. Also in Page, some of the most beautiful scenery on earth exists —– if one is able to ignore the power plants and huge electrical lines that go in every direction. On to the meat:

I had to leave Phoenix on August 17th. I put everything that I should need in my truck. It is very nice to not have many things to keep track of. Matt E sheltered me from the rain out in Vistancia and I got to say goodbye to Mrs. Ellen Erra, the sweetest lady in the world who is gone to China for two years. Big ups to my boy Big Bad John for lending me the Waldport Country Club card and setting me up with crab fishing gear!!

Sedona was the first stop. Uncle Jeff is always a delight! The guy has figured it out!! Did some fishing, brewery-ing, and blackberry picking.

We drove up to Pine and took my Great-Grandfather to dinner for his 87th birthday. A great generation he comes from. I must mention however that he was elated to receive a 30-pack of Miller Lite as a gift, and then proceeded to entertain Jeff and I with a detailed account of his “colonostraphe”.

I left Sedona for Flagstaff the next morning. Picked up some fruit and sandwich material and of course a Starbucks and headed for the mountain. The hike up was fantastic. The forest was very wet with the recent rains. I saw deer and made some friends from NC. The last 1500ft. of the hike took most of the effort. There is no air to be had at 12,000 ft. When I summited that SOB, I shared some wonderful blackberries that I had picked with a squirrel and some fellow hikers.

I came down the mountain, and headed straight for the Beaver St. Brewery in downtown Flagstaff. I read somewhere that beer must be constantly consumed whilst on the road, especially after a physically demanding hike to replenish the electrohydrates in your legs. *sidenote – I am also having a beer right now at 8:30AM while typing this. It is a 24oz. Mickey’s, it is cold, it is delicious…* Uncle Jeff met me up at the brewery, because he is a man who believes in beer as well.

Got in touch with Steve-O, and went deer hunting. I had no idea how sharp I look in full camo. My bud Steve can shoot a bow and arrow about a half-mile and hit his mark within a 1/16th inch tolerance. Modern day Robin Hood that moves through the forest with less than a whisper’s worth of noise. He is a deer’s worst nightmare.

We didn’t kill anything. Almost got trampled by one, car alarm scared another one, one guy shot an arrow over the highway at a deer and hit an SUV instead. It was a mess. Did drink quite a bit though and learned a bunch of things from Steve about the forest. Shout out to the Hudson women for the Venison Green Chile and Chicken Enchiladas!!! Best ever!!!

That brings me to Page.  I going to finish my breakfast beverage, and then head toward the canyon. I think I am going to skip my motel’s free continental breakfast, or maybe go get it and feed it to the street people of Page.

Next Stop: Point Sublime, Grand Canyon, AZ