San Diago "A Whale's Vagina"

Okay, so it turns out I'm not so good at this blogging thing. The truth is that between pursuing my strict diet of chilaquiles, tacos, and tequila, surfing in the mornings, and spending time with friends in the evenings, well, I know where my priorities lie. Of course this blog is a journal to my older self just as much, if not more than it is a way for friends and family to stay updated on my travels, so I'll keep trying. I'm up relatively early today due to the cacophony of the local pack of street dogs in my neighborhood. They're a rowdy, rag tag bunch who get their kicks barking at pretty much any passing car going under 35 mph (especially when I'm sleeping), and chasing other dogs off their turf. It's a good time to throw some words down.

Okay so I'll back up a bit. When I wrote my last post I had been in San Diego for about a day. I ended up staying almost four full days and wanted to stay more, Every time I'm in San Diego I consider moving there. It's the surfer town vibe of the smaller areas like Ocean Beach and Pacific Beach, It's the consistently warm but very infrequently hot weather. Of course it's the ocean, something I have felt at home in and near since I can remember.

San Diego is just a generally fun city as well. While there I went to a couple great restaurants, went out and heard some okay music that was just fine because I was smashed when I heard it, tasted some shitty tequila that George Clooney promotes (If a bartender at a gay bar tries to sell you a tequila based on an endorsement by George Clooney, pass and just shell out the extra few bucks for the Don Julio Reposado. George Clooney has shitty taste in tequila.), and saw Point Break Live.

Point Break Live is a show I've been trying to see for a couple years now. It's a satirical stage play based on Point Break, a movie that has always been a guilty pleasure of mine. The show is quite interactive. Keanu Reeves's character is chosen from the audience, when people are shot blood splatters around the theater, the audience is made to get down during bank robberies. It's absurd but an absolute riot. If you're ever in a city where you can see the show I highly recommend it. Check out the YouTube video I linked to above.

But most of all it's the group of friends I have there. It seems to me that although there are so many people moving to Portland, those that were born there leave in droves as adults. Sure I still have some good old friends around but they're all a bit scattered among different groups of people and so busy with their own lives we don't see each other as much as we should. I love my new friends as well but the comfort one gains after knowing someone for one or two plus decades is difficult to match.

The truth is I only have a couple of those long time friends in San Diego, but they've been there so long that they now have old friends that are like family, and now they're getting so old ;) that they have actual families and the whole bunch really makes me feel like family. Phew, that was quite the convoluted sentence. On my final night in town dinner plans my pal Chloe was arranging for her family organically turned into a dinner party of about eight people. We had a great time just talking, laughing, drinking wine, and eating good food. It was run of the mill for them and maybe even taken for granted, which I think is a positive thing in this case. It was a really nice feeling and something I don't really get often back home anymore.

Someday I could really see myself committing to a move but for now I'll simply treasure the people and moments the city blesses me with.

Adrian getting his head humped at Point Break Live

Point Break Live

 

Family Dinner. Sorry guys, I wanted it candid.

Portland to Panama - US West Coast

A road trip from Portland, Oregon to Panama with a dog, crossing multiple international borders is probably the kind of thing one would want to extensively plan for. Fact is though I've never been much of a planner. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants making decisions as I go. So far so good. My life works pretty well. I like to think this can be attributed to having a "feel" for things, an intuition if you will that helps me know which path will deliver the optimal outcome. In reality there's probably a lot of luck involved. But that's neither here nor there. I'm not going to go messing with a winning formula. I will drive to Panama and figure it out along the way.

It's not like I didn't do any planning or preparation. I booked a home for two weeks in Todos Santos, Mexico. I looked at a map of Central America at least seven times. I saved some money. And that's about it up until two weeks before my target date to leave. So after I returned from Cabo San Lucas where I was competing in an Ironman I got cracking on the minimum necessary to get on the road. I prepared my home to host Airbnb guests to reduce the financial burden during my two months away, got Charlie the German Shepherd caught up on his vaccinations, tied up a bunch of work loose ends, and went to REI. I FUCKING LOVE REI. I'm not even much of an outdoorsy guy. I don't camp, hike, or backpack much, but all those genius tools to make those activities work more smoothly and comfortably fascinate the shit out of me. I now own bear mace.

I knew I wanted to fly back home from Panama which meant that I needed a temporary car so I figured I would buy something in Portland then sell it when I reach Panama. It had to be big enough for my dog, gear, and possible car camping, and it couldn't be too nice because I didn't want to draw attention. It also needed to be inexpensive so if I had to sell it for less than I bought it for it wouldn't be too big of a deal. Finding an inexpensive vehicle  that is also likely to actually make it to Panama safely proved to be difficult. I looked at four or five cars and by November 8th I still hadn't found anything. I was scheduled to leave on the 10th. I finally looked at an '04 Chevy Trailblazer on the 8th that was in great shape and was reasonably priced. Sold. Brought cash the next day and I was ready to roll.

And we're off. The effect of a lack of planning made an early appearance in the journey. A quick look at Google maps told me that Ashland, Oregon was about six hours from home, and that Redwood National Forest is in northern California near the coast. I figured six hours was good for the first day of driving due to my late start so I would stop in Ashland to sleep, cross the border into California in the morning, and hop right over to the redwoods. I found a lovely Best Western (You had me at "free breakfast with a waffle station") and slept soundly, happy to be on my way for the adventure of a lifetime.

In the morning after three waffles and two cups of shitty coffee I checked Google Maps for the travel time and route to the redwoods. North on I-5 for 45 miles? Huh? I need to go south. The redwoods are in California. Nope. Apparently there's no road to the coast until you get well south of the forest in California. The only way to get there from southern Oregon in a reasonable time is to get on Hwy. 199 in Grants Pass, Oregon heading west. This highway crosses into California before linking up with Hwy. 101 going through the forest. After some cussing and hemming and hawing about how much I hate the idea of backtracking I decided that the opportunity to see some of the largest trees on the planet was worth the effort. You can see my roundabout route on the map in this post.

The backtrack was worth the time. The redwood forest was beautiful. Being from Oregon I've grown up around trees and thick beautiful forests. Redwood National Forest looks a lot like the forests back home, but on steroids. They're simply massive. There's no other way to put it. Not just thick in the trunk but incredibly tall as well. I found myself thinking about the amazement pioneers felt when first encountering them.

After driving around with my head on a swivel for a while I eventually I pulled off the to the side of the road at a trailhead. I brought running shoes on the trip so I did what any self respecting runner would do and went for a trail run. This adventure of mine is all about experiences and running through the redwoods is something to remember.

After I'd seen enough big trees I was back on the road. I drove for a few hours and ended up at a Holiday Inn just outside of Santa Cruz. It looks like I'll be coming quite familiar with three star hotels with free breakfasts and waffle machines. Winning!

I stopped in Santa Cruz for the afternoon and had lunch with an old friend before driving to Hermosa where another friend offered me a place to stay for a couple nights. On the 14th I made it to San Diego where I have a good group of old friends. I'm here now and will stay around for another couple nights before crossing the border into Mexico.

I'll try to check in here with updates regularly so stay tuned.

Below is a picture of a sign letting me know I was about to enter an area with some big ass trees, a picture of me with a big ass tree (Pictured is the tree known as the "Boy Scout Tree"), and a couple pictures with San Diego friends.

The map below is taken from Google's location services. Looks like it went a little haywire in northern California, probably where my phone lost signal.