Well at least for a week or so anyway. Kelsey had a little time off between the second summer session and the fall semester, and I wanted her to come out and go to a wedding with me, so she was out here for about ten days the week before last. We took it pretty easy the first weekend she was here (I'll post about the second weekend later on), and part of that taking it easy was an afternoon at Bolsa Chica with The Pilgrims and The Mellquists. We did a little bonfiring and some weenie roasting. Matt and Kelsey did a little surfing. A pretty fun time was had by all as one might expect at a beach bonfire. I'm pretty tired so this is all you get tonight. I'll do better next time.
Jeff and I have been talking for some time about riding the Strand in its entirety. The Strand is the bike / ped path along the beach in the South Bay. It winds it's way from Rat Beach in Torrance up through the beach cities, through Venice and Santa Monica, and just into Malibu. Sure, it sounds scenic and leisurely, but all that beauty comes at a price. The path is more than twenty miles long. One way. And while it's not much in the way of up and down, peddling my 30 pound American steel single-speed cruiser is akin to riding uphill constantly. But I admit, the pain was part of the attraction for me. It might not be EPIC like traversing the Grand Canyon, it still made for a pretty great and joint-inflaming June morning.
the route
Matt swung by my apartment and I drove us down to Torrance to meet up with Jeff. We started peddling around 7 or so and rode for the better part of the next 5 hours. I was feeling pretty good at the halfway point, but sore butt, thighs, and knees increased exponentially after the turn.
the takeoff
halfway there
not quite as energetic after the second half
We all made it back with varying degrees of discomfort, but no major issues. Jeff finished it pretty easy what with all his "gears" and all, but he did ride the hills up to his house after so that upped his degree of difficulty.
finished
sweet relief
Easily my favorite part was that the cafe at the end was serving root beer floats that day. All in all it wasn't too awful. I'll probably do it again sometime this summer. But I'll have to figure out a better video setup than what I had this time. Maybe work on that DIY isolation system.
There really is something to that phrase "over the hill". I mention this because on thinking back on Matt's birthday party, I noticed how the older people get the more they really do revert to children in many ways. Infants even. What got this whole train of thought careening down the tracks was that I realized 10pm was pretty early for a birthday part to end. So early bed times led me to notice soft foods, lack of hair (scalp located at least), poor motor skills (automobile- and physiology-wise), diapers, and... well things just snowballed form there. You get the picture. Clearly I'm not the first person to think of this, but I always thought it was a little silly until I gave it some thought.
Matt's party was at Bolsa Chica State Beach. Everyone showed up that evening for the bonfire, but the hardcore group of real friends showed up early that morning. And by that, of course, I mean Matt's surfing buddies. Not me. I was sleeping. But I did show up around lunchtime and Matt and I spent the afternoon playing cornhole, and he even got me out on some waves. It was gnarly, brah. (not really, but I had fun)
The evening was spent, eating, cornholing, and burning a small forest's worth of wood. (Who put Matt in charge of the fire?) Anyway, happy birthday, Matt, good times. (You probably won't read this until the morning, since you're probably in bed already. It's 9:30.)
Saturday I kept Jeff company while he staked out a fire pit at Dockweiler for his daughter's birthday party. My original plan was to go camping, but then Jeff mentioned last week at lunch that he had to be at the beach all day reserving the party spot. And since he made this pathetic, sad face when he said so, I had no choice but to cancel my plans and keep him company at the beach. (Not really. My lack of planning resulted in a couple hours of futile research on a camping spot Thursday night. Besides everywhere I was looking called for a "drizzly" weekend, and I'm a big weenie.)
Actually hanging out at the beach all day is too bad a way to spend your Saturday, I suppose. I guess me complaining about that is a bit akin to Hawaiians complaining about the weather. Liiiight winds!!! You complete me, Triumph. Indeed, I had a really good time, and, unlike Jeff, I got to leave when the teenagers showed up. (No offense, Allie.) We got to sit around talking about nerd stuff, and even got Rinaldi's delivered to the beach. Most of our order anyway. But the highlight and main activity of the day was, of course, practicing our cornhole skills. Check it out:
...but I still think it's cool. I'll be lugging the boards along again this weekend to Matt's birthday bonfire. We'll see if anyone there can beat me. Pics.
my morning
jeff "splitting" wood; yes, that's the knife that cut my thumb open; jeff walked away unscathed
cornhole and bikinis; it really doesn't get much better
"...to whoever or whatever decided that this world and all our lives would be such a good idea nice work. especially on that sun into the ocean thing -todd snider liner notes to The Devil You Know
I was in a bit of a sour mood all last week. Partly because I was tired and playing catching after being gone the entire week before. It didn't help returning back to LA with gloomy weather. But it cleared up later in the week, and we got some sweet fluffy clouds for the weekend. Everything is better with blue skies and fluffy clouds. I'm good now. Took these on a bike ride after work Friday. It didn't suck.
the lineup was filled with hooligans that day
Matt has yet to explain the finger licking
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