For Tom

Here's a clearer picture of what I was trying to video at night, Tom.

Ninja, I'm sure you'll enjoy it as well.



Frankly, I think it's dumb, but I love you guys, so...

The Best Torta I've Ever Tasted

DIXON/SACRAMENTO, CA - I took a short road trip with Chris and Holly yesterday. The plan was to run out to Sacramento to Holly's storage unit there to see if her printer was locked up.

First things first, I had to run out to the bank for Dave to get some change.



Maybe I shouldn't be so openly hanging out with dead prez in the homeless capital of the U.S.

We left later than usual and got back much later than planned. It was great.

Chris spent a large part of the trip hanging his head out the window. He looked like such a happy dog.





I got to be DJ for the trip and really enjoyed sharing my music. The first part of the trip was all about hip hop. We spent this leg listening to Busdriver, Illogic, Fatlip, MC Lars, and Non-Prophets. I was feeling it. But the whole vibe changed once we hit Dixon.

Chris asked to stop so he could hit a bathroom and stretch his legs. We waited a couple exits and then hopped off, headed for a little gas station on the side of the road in Dixon. It looked like any other little town.

There was farmland all around and things were fairly flat here. Felt like being back in Illinois. The people were all so friendly. Chris started up conversation with the clerk at the gas station and she just chatted us up (and directed me toward a wonderful bag of salt and pepper kettle cooked chips). She gave us a history of the town and described the farming. Apparently a lot of California's alfalfa and asparagus is grown here.

We asked for a good place to eat and were directed to Bud's. It was just down the road. We stopped the car out front and strolled in. Unfortunately, the vibe and prices were just a bit much for us, so we went back out to what appeared to be the main Dixon drag to find other sources of nourishment.

A lot of places were closed or not serving food between the hours of 2 and 5. Holly was feeling cheap Chinese but I was open to anything. I was actually kind of hungry for some Mexican. We ended up walking past a small Mexican joint and almost kept cruising by, but I noticed the sign said "Open". It was dark inside but we grabbed the door. Sure enough, Taqueria Adelina was open for business.

While ordering at the counter, I was debating just what to get. I was planning on just having a snack. Had we been anywhere else, I would have grabbed an appetizer. But then I saw tortas on the menu. More food than I intended to eat but I haven't had one in such a long time. So I ordered one.

We waited patiently at our table. Then the food arrived. It looked great. This little establishment was deceiving. Good things come in small packages.



I dug right in... and was amazed. It was delicious. Carne asada, cheese, avocado, yellow tomato, onions, jalapeños, and sour cream. The bread was so fresh. the flavors came together just right. I had never had a torta so good. Usually, the bread and meat are kind of dry and light on toppings. Not at Taqueria Adelina though. And a nice cold bottle of Sidral Mundet was complementing the meal nicely.

Chris went to speak with Adelina herself. He felt it was necessary for me to get a picture with her, seeing as I was loving this sandwich so much. I couldn't stop talking about it while eating. She was hesitant at first but then decided it was cool. They wanted to get the blog address though so they could check it out later.



I had to have another. The thought of leaving and not enjoying this sandwich again was too much to handle. I'd like to think my deep love for this sandwich was inspiring for others. Both Chris and Holly ordered one as well this time around.

Let me tell you... just as good the second time around.



If you are ever in Dixon, CA, please, please, please stop at Taqueria Adelina and enjoy a fantastic meal. I'm asking nicely.

The rest of the trip was great as well. We finished the rest of the drive, feeling wonderfully full with delicious food. The storage unit was small and, perhaps in a food induced delirium, the decision was made to move everything out. With an empty car, this would have been no problem. But we had two extra people along.

And we both brought bags for some damn reason.

I wish people could apply for engineering jobs by showing videos of guerrilla moves rather than submitting resumes. I'd have a job in no time. Chris too. He was great. A real trooper. A true believer. I had my doubts at one point... Holly had a keyboard that proved to be a formidable foe. It had a massive case with it that didn't fold down well.

Chris made the sacrifice and decided he would sit in the back. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he insisted. He made himself a little pocket to sit in and settled down for a ride.

I did make a little friend during the move.



Lots of mellow music for the ride home. At one point, Holly was falling asleep, so we turned off the tunes and started talking about religion and social work. I thought Chris was asleep at this point, but I think he was just a little annoyed that the music was off and he was suffering in silence. We finally neared home, crossing the Bay Bridge, and Chris piped in that he was glad to see the bridge. We were back home within ten minutes and the adventure was over. Holly wouldn't accept any help in unloading, even after I offered several times.

The original plan was to make it an early night. I thought I would go to bed while the night was young.

Instead, the offer to watch The Big Lebowski came up and I ended up staying awake until after 1am. But... I was the second to last person to go to bed! For the third time ever in the hostel! A big day.

No Parking

SAN FRANCISCO, CA - I've been pretty busy these last few days. I am now working at the hostel and end up spending a couple hours a day doing housekeeping to get my bed for free, so my day is definitely shortened. I don't really get out of the hostel until the afternoon anymore. And I'm still in the habit of being the last person awake in this place night after night.

Today was no different. Up really late last night after almost no sleep the night before. You see, here in San Fran, parking is one of the most valuable commodities in the city. I park in the "Secret Spots" on the other side of the city. It's an easy bus ride, it just takes a little time. These are some of the few spots in the city you don't have to pay an exorbitant fee for. The only catch is that the streets get cleaned once a week, so your car has to be moved every couple days, depending on what street you are parked on and when the street cleaning day is. My street cleaning time was Monday morning at 6am. Unfortunately, I didn't remember this until sometime after midnight on Sunday as a group of us were walking out of No Country For Old Men. The buses had stopped running. No city for forgetful young punks.

So, here's the plan. Go to bed right away (I still ended up being the last one awake despite this careful plan). Set my alarm. Get up at 5am and catch the first bus at 5:21. Make it to my car with 8 minutes to spare and get it moved.

Check.

It all went smoothly (despite my urge to say, "Screw it," and not get out of bed) and I was sitting in my car. At this point, I decided to crash in some 2 hour parking and take a nap then cruise back to my old spot and leave my car parked for another week. This seemed better than moving to a Wednesday spot and having to trek to the other side of the city in a couple days. I did just this. No problem. I'll be up at 8am when the No Parking ends and grab one of the many spots. I napped fitfully for an hour and decided to just go park. It was 7:30a.

Except I can't. Because every damn spot is already taken. Savages! Scavengers everywhere! An entire street, several blocks long, completely filled. Now what? I drove around for a long time after this and found nothing. Every secret spot was filled. This plan has gone horribly awry. And I need to be back by 10:30 to start housecleaning.

Closing in on 9am (I've been driving around these blocks for quite a while by this point) I find an empty block. The cleaning time is from 8am to 10am here. I grab a sliver of concrete on the opposite side of the street and park. The prayers begin. First, I hope that my car doesn't start sliding down the hill. I'm on quite an incline and I still have no emergency brake. Yes, I'm in San Francisco and I know that's a terrible idea. I tell myself this very thing every day. Second, I hope no one needs to get out of these two driveways I'm mostly blocking with both my bumpers.

This street cleaner needs to hurry up.

While I wait, I see other people pulling up on my side of the street and sitting. They can't all be doing the same thing I'm doing, can they?

Sure enough, around 9:30 the street cleaner cruises past and a massive wave of cars pull quick U-turns to the other side of the street. It was quite a sight. I got my spot, no worries, but I have become very concerned with the parking situation here. Dave urged me to ditch the car and get a motorcycle. It's starting to sound appealing.

Anyway, I got back much later than I intended. It turned into a 5 hour ordeal. Craziness. The rest of the day was all over the place. Definitely didn't go according to plans. I ended up cooking dinner for the hostel. Monterey Chicken. It was a big hit. That felt good.

On the way back from the store for supplies, I grabbed this for you, Tom. The pictures weren't turning out, so here's a short clip.



Late that night I snapped this picture. I'm guessing the guy didn't park his bike looking that way.

SF Muni

SAN FRANCISCO, CA - I love the San Francisco bus system, the Muni. It's so easy to use and I've learned it well.

They have a couple of different ads for the Muni that sit above the seats. So far I've only seen two.

The first is about a passenger that started having a seizure on the bus and a fellow passenger, a young man, went running off the bus to the nearest hospital and brought an ambulance back for the seizure victim. The bus driver said she still stays in touch with that young man and he has now graduated college.

Heartwarming.

Here's the only other ad I've seen.



In case you can't read it clearly, here's a transcript:

One time I picked up a man who seemed kind of strange. This was early, like 4am. He rang the bell like he wanted to get off, but he wouldn't get off. So we go to the next stop and he does it again. Then he says, "Close the door!" I said, "I have to let the people get on." Then he starts shouting, "Go! Go!" I said, "No! It's a red light." The he puts his foot on the gas pedal! And I'm like - Oh My God! I'm fighting with him trying to kick his foot off. Another passenger comes running to the front and he was able to put him off the bus. It was something - going through red lights - we were lucky it was early in the morning.

There are two ads on the entire bus system advertising the Muni, and this is one of the stories they decide to share to generate business.

I love this goddamn crazy city.

A Twenty Had Me Icy Like Leasing In The Arctic

SAN FRANCISCO, CA - I found a twenty dollar bill on the ground last night.

Life is good.

By the end of the night, I was knee deep in cheese fries. And so was Cheesy McManus.



On the way home, a couple of us were lucky enough to spend a half hour hanging out with Tyrone. He sang a little, preached some gospel, and didn't kill me when I stole the show several times. Thanks Tyrone.



"I rest my case, Your Honor."

To Nick, From Wes

SAN FRANCISCO, CA - As Thanksgiving dinner was ending, I was invited to go see The Darjeeling Limited. I've been waiting to see this movie for, well, a damn long time. It came out just as I started my trip and I haven't stopped to see it by myself and haven't found anyone that wanted to see it who hadn't gone already.

Wes Anderson movies make me hurt when I see them. They hit me hard. I know they're not for everyone, but if someone connects with them, they tend to really connect. I think they're amazing. Haven't disliked one yet.

Films about anxiety and loss and separation and glory long gone and nostalgia and failure and dysfunction and... and... the soundtracks... they're so perfect.

The things people say are so dead on in this film. At one point, as a girl is parting ways with Jason Schwartzman, she asks, "What's wrong with you?" He pauses for a moment and says, "I honestly don't know. I'll tell you the next time I see you."

Feel like I've had to say the same too many times before.

The movie was hilarious and absurd and heartbreakingly sad.

Do you ever feel like a film or song is speaking directly to you? Like it was written with your particular thoughts or feelings in mind?

He should name his next film "To Nick, From Wes."

Two Turkeys, Broccoli Casserole, And A Lot Of Hostelites

SAN FRANCISCO, CA - It's Thanksgiving Day. I wake up relatively early and head out into the common area. Chris is up and ready to go. He's at the front desk but adamant about making crepes. It's going to happen today.

Quetzal is the resident crepe-maker (I looked for the word for "one who makes crepes", but there doesn't seem to be one). Unfortunately, she hasn't made any since I showed back up. So, Chris is on a mission.

Somehow, I get suckered into attempting the first batch. Not good.

I couldn't get the heat right. They kept getting dark on one side while soggy on the other. And don't even let me get into trying to flip one of those things. Terrible.

My best attempt comes out looking like scrambled eggs and hash browns all in one gooey mess. But, I'm hungry, so I throw some syrup on it anyway and chow down. Not bad even if it was a horror to look at.

Chris and I head out to the only little shop open that was selling milk in Chinatown. He needs more to make a new batch of batter (we screwed up all the batter that was prepared the day before). After that, I head out to grab some necessary supplies for the day of cooking ahead.

I manage to catch a ride with this guy Lincoln who was staying at the hostel. Or so I was led to believe.

After getting back, he decided to stay downstairs. Shortly thereafter, some of the staff were trying to figure out what bed he and his friend were staying in. For some reason, they had been switching beds every night. Turns out, he hasn't paid for a bed in a few nights. Neither one of them. They kept their keys and never checked out. This was overlooked. But not anymore. Dave was pissed and banned them for life. Oh well, thanks for the ride, pal.

When I get back, I find out Chris has become a master, uh, crepe-maker while I've been gone. He's pumped and flipping them like a pro.



This ends up being a long process. The crepes are being kept in the toaster oven on low until they are all finished. Through this all, others are making potatoes and other dishes. I'm working on the World Famous Broccoli Casserole, dicing Velveeta and choppin' broccoli. Chris is taking small breaks to deal with hostel issues because he's on duty through this all.

We finally sit down for a crepe feast and it's worth the wait. Hell, I don't even know the last time I've had a crepe (not counting my disaster earlier in the morning).





It's great. Now, after an early afternoon feast (this all took a lot of time), everyone has gone into a crepe frenzy.









I end up spending the rest of the afternoon working on the blog. It takes forever and I get really frustrated with Photobucket.

Later in the afternoon the cooking really gets going. People are crammed into the tiny kitchen, trying to prepare dishes with the minimal space and supplies available. I finish putting the broccoli casserole together at the front desk.

We also have a problem with the cooking situation.

We have no oven.

There is a small toaster over though and this is being utilized in some pretty creative ways. the two turkeys we have are being cooked at a house on the other side of the city.

I'm not sure when the turkeys are going to be back, so I'm holding out on cooking the casserole. I want it to be piping hot when dinner is served.

After waiting for a long time (patiently, of course), I decide that others are done cooking pies. Pies are for dessert. Casserole is for dinner. Pies are out. I'm in.

The toaster over takes considerably longer than expected to cook. This is about the point where we realize we have five forks in the entire hostel. Yes. Five. It's already a problem on typical days.

This is Thanksgiving. There are 25-plus hungry hostelites. Time to avert a crisis.

I head out with Chris, Quetzal, and British Chris. We hit Chinatown in search of utensils. We have several requests at the hostel for chopsticks. This is going to be an interesting meal. Good thing we're in Chinatown. We're not sure where we're going to find a shop to buy a bunch of plastic utensils this late on Thanksgiving.

British Chris tells us to hold on for a second and he darts into a restaurant. A couple minutes later, he emerges with a plastic back chock full of chopsticks and plastic forks. He tells us it took some convincing, but he was able to get the whole bag for free.

We're winners.

Back at the hostel, I pull out one casserole dish and throw another into the toaster over. I have to contort the disposable pan a little to make it fit, but it does.

We're doing a lot of snacking in anticipation of the feast. While at the store earlier, I picked up some cheese balls and these seemed to be a hit. All the crackers were gone by now though. Things are getting desperate.

I get on the phone and start making holiday phone calls to ignore the hunger pangs. I'm way behind on calls because I've been busy all day. I'm trying to call back the text messengers first so people don't end up upset. The family. I have 40 people on my list of "to calls." Things aren't looking good to get around to everyone.

I enjoy the phone calls. Some people I haven't talked to since I started this trip. It's nice to catch up.

But then the turkeys arrive.

You know what happens with pets when it's dinner time and you crack open a can or open a bag of pet food? When they all come running and herd around you? They won't let you move and get to a place where you can actually feed them. Now pictures this with a room full of alleged adults and two turkeys.

Everyone forms a line and plates are being passed out. Staff goes first of course and I get to dig in fairly early. I can't get a shot of the beautiful casserole before spoonfuls are carved out. The feast begins.



Everyone digs in. Good food. Good people. Good conversation. Lots of seconds.





And the Broccoli Casserole was a hit.

Happy Leftover Days Everyone!

Screw Photobucket

Screw Photobucket.

I spent a lot of time posting all these pictures, and when I finally post the blog, the pictures are all messed up. Most them are missing half. And clicking on them takes you to Photobucket's main page instead of the picture.

Again, screw you Photobucket. You've now wasted a lot of my precious, precious, expensive time.

Expect a bill and a call from my lawyer.

The Road To Perdition

DEATH VALLEY, CA - I spent the night in a truck stop/casino parking lot on my way into the desert. It was a short, fitful sleep, but refreshing nonetheless.



By the way, I'm worried about running out of disk space for pictures on the blog, so I'm going to try Photobucket. We'll see how it works.

I was feeling a bit peckish after not having eaten in quite some time, so the truck stop diner was a real treat.

Guess how much this spread cost:



$3.99!!!

Just my kind of price. After chowing down, I ran down the road to grab some gas. I love the look of things around this part of the country.



I was really disappointed in myself for not taking pictures of Encino, NM while driving by in the daylight to Roswell. This place was a true ghost town. So I was pretty happy when I stumbled across this little spot on the way out to Death Valley.





The Valley was close and I was really pumped for it. I've always wanted to see the desert, especially right here.



I still haven't gotten used to just how bright the sun is here. It's so hard to look up its way. Blinding (you know, more so than the usual blinding qualities of the sun). But I'm no longer surprised by the abundance of life, even in the most difficult of conditions.



Once I got into the park, the first destination was Dante's View. Dante's view is a site that looks directly over Badwater Basin, the lowest point in the U.S. Directly across from Dante's View is Telescope Peak, the highest point in the park and one of the higest in the U.S. It's a lot to take in. You can see the whole valley from this spot.



I got a kick out of all the Hell-inspired names here. There was Hell's Gate, Dante's View, Devil's Playground, Devil's Cornfield, and, of course, where all the lawyer's go to play...



So, I'm up on Dante's View, chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool (as you guys know I'm apt to do) and enjoying the view. I've wandered out onto one of the points away from the parking lot. And I'm in the middle of nowhere. Check out the video.



Anyway, I standing around, taking pictures and the only other people around at this point are a boy and his mother. While I'm snapping some shots, the boy says to his mother, "Hey, mom. Look. A UFO. We should call the U.S. Army." His mom didn't even look up, instead walking back to the parking lot. I started looking around and discovered a black object hovering in the air between the peaks, doing some circles. It was strange and unbelievable. The boy ended up seeming bored and walked off. I started snapping pictures with my film camera and then switched to digital.

The thing looked black to me the whole time and oval in shape. I should have shot some video too, but the thing dipped down behind a rock outcropping and after I ran around it to keep my eye on the thing (this took maybe 10 seconds), it was nowhere to be seen. Completely gone. It was hard to get my bearings on just how far away it was because perspective is really skewed at altitudes like this. But the valley is at least several miles across and it looked like it was in the middle. Unfortunately, the pictures make the object look smaller than it really was because of the wide angle lens kind of compacting everything. I need to get the film shots developed and see what turns up.

Here's some of the best.







I guess that made up for Roswell letting me down. Or maybe they did receive my messages. No abduction though. Oh well.

So, I moved on with my day. I really didn't know what else to do. The thing had vanished and I had no control over it. Acceptance is the answer.

I am sticking with the statement that this thing was a UFO. After all, it was an object, it was flying, and I don't know what the hell it was, so...

I grabbed a few more pictures while on the peak.





While making the various steep climbs in a car, this is not the kind of sign you want to see.



There are so many sites to check out in Death Valley. I'm disappointed I didn't get to check out more, but the place is massive. I made a stop at 20 Mule Team Canyon. It was beautiful.





By now I was anxious to see Badwater Basin, so I rushed out to catch that. Badwater Basin is 282 feet below sea level. Whenever there is rain, it rushes down the mountains to this spot, collecting minerals along the way. Once there, it has nowhere to go as the Basin doesn't let out to any bodies of water. So over all the years, things head down there to stay. It's a giant salt flat. The salt reforms into different shapes over time and with each new rainfall.





Up close, the salt looked like hairs. It was strange.



The salt and sand were rock hard. I expected different I guess.



I had my compass with which also has a thermometer on it. Keep in mind that this is now November 20th... two days before Thanksgiving. (The time is set to the wrong time zone - it was actually 12:38).



I peeled off one shirt and started to strip off everything else, but started to get concerned looks. Fine. I'll just suffer the heat, folks.

It's hard to see in this picture, but up on the hill side there is a small plaque indicating where sea level is located.



There was much more to see, so I had to be on my way. The road out to the basin is 17 miles long. On the way out there, I passed a hiker. I don't know where he was going or what he was doing, but he seemed determined. I spent at least an hour in the basin. On the way back, he was still chugging along.



I realized on this trip, I had never actually seen a desert. It was definitely different than expected.



I went to one of the meeting points of main roads, to a place named Furnace Creek. I was looking for something to eat and there's were some diners there.

Walking up, I could feel the juices flowing already. Food... good...

Then I saw the menus posted out front. $12.50 for a sandwich?! Who're they kidding. We live in the 21st century. I know food isn't plentiful out here, but there is no excuse for that. We all have cars. Food is reachable.

What these restaurants didn't realize is that I'm like a camel.

And by that, I mean poor.

I can go days without proper nutrition. It's all part of the territory when you decide to be a counselor. It's essentially like a vow of poverty. I feel confident I could handle being a monk if necessary. There are many "Ramen Days."

So screw their $12.50 sandwiches! I didn't need them! Back to the open road!

But first, here's the temperature in the shade by the diners.



I didn't know where to begin with things to see. On the road came across the first true desert sand I had seen. Despite what movies may show or what I was brought up to believe, there is not a lot of sand in the desert. Lots of rocks? Yes. Lots of dirt? Yes. Lots of sand? No. Not so much.



I stopped here for a little bit, checking out the rocks. These rocks have been here for millions of years, slowly showing the wear and tear of the desert. There were tons of rocks that had been etched by sand. The looked exactly like what I would expect dried dinosaur skin to look like.

The sun was slowly being lost and sure enough, I found myself constantly stopping by the side of the road to take pictures.





Here's my one bone to pick with Death Valley. I'm out there, in the desert for the first time, and I ask very little. I wanted to see a couple things and was totally let down. Not one single cactus. No coyotes. And not a rattlesnake or scorpion or tarantula anywhere. And it's not for lack of trying on my part. At one roadside stop, I found these.



I've seen enough Survivorman (two whole episodes) to know these are scorpion holes. But try as I might, no one wanted to come out to play. I think they were abandoned.

A thorough disappointment. Just a word to the wise, get your crap together, Mojave Desert. I'll be back through at some point and I don't want to be disappointed again. Yellowstone was nice enough to throw some bison, elk, and bighorn sheep my way. The Grand Canyon had to be a jerk and show me a black squirrel, but at least it was something. The only signs of animal life I saw in the desert were a couple ants. Don't let me down again, DV.

I had my first desert sunset and, yes, it was amazing again.



I love shots with the moon (even if the lens makes it look pretty small).



There were some sand dunes a bit down the road again and a whole caravan of people seemed to have stopped to go hang out. I was starting to feel the time crunch and wasn't too keen on getting a bunch of sand in my shoes at the moment, so I grabbed a shot and moved on.



I was in desperate need of some gas on the way out of the park. There was no way I would make it to the next big town without some.

Luckily, DV saw what desperate need I was in and decided to thoroughly screw me.



After a nice, long day of hanging out together, this is what I get? I felt violated.

So, I got enough to get to get me to the next stop and sputtered down the road.

There was a long drive ahead. The sun went down around 5pm and I needed to get back to the hostel by midnight or I wouldn't be able to get checked in, which means I would be showerless and bedless again. Not an option.

The roads through the mountains were long and winding. I didn't think I would ever get anywhere. Out on the main highways, I wanted some food. And what I really wanted was an In 'N' Out burger.

I was fortunate to come across one later in the night. Sweet relief! I chatted with a couple people and discussed alter egos before moving on again.

It became clear at certain point that I wasn't going to make it back on time. I talked with Chris though and he said he would help me get in after hours. Great news. Even if it meant I would be sleeping on some bench cushions.

I finally reached the Bay Bridge and couldn't have been happier.



I did end up sleeping on a cushion that night. Which wasn't so bad. I would only end up sleeping for a couple hours before people started getting up and moving. But everyone was happy to see me back and I was glad to see them.

A good day.