Bouldering Ring Mountain

Tiburon, CA

My newest favorite bouldering spot...just across the bay. It doesn't get much better than this--beautiful views and an unobstructed fall zone.

I needlessly got lost on the way over, when actually, this is just a quick jaunt from San Francisco. Take the Paradise Rd. exit off the 101, and continue on Paradise Rd. until you get to Taylor (which is not a through street). Don't let the residential area throw you off. Ring Mountain is an open space preserve with access points at the top and bottom of the hill. When you see a bunch of parked cars on the side of the road, you'll know your in the right place. The parking that's closer to bouldering is at the top of the hill in a residential neighborhood via Taylor. How lucky some people are to have this spot in their backyard!

There are two great spots for bouldering at Ring Mountain: Split Rock and Turtle Rock. Split rock has some easy free climbing, and a nice spot to set up natural anchors for sport routes. Turtle rock has the gorgeous views and a variety of interesting traverse and high top outs. The rock has enough interesting features to keep you occupied.

 

The Travel Bug and Work-Life Balance

I became afflicted with the illness long before I could put a name to it. I think I was seven. At that point, I hadn't even been on my first plane trip, but family road trips that stretched across the golden state or other parts of the western coast were enough to inspire that feeling of adventure. As a kid, I remember experiencing that jolt of excitement just from being in a new place. Somewhere during that time I became hooked, and since then, every attempt to shed that urge of wanderlust has been met with failure. I used to believe that one epic trip could cure it--or at least calm the urgency, but as my traveling companion, Fia, and I have discussed, more travel only seems to feed the beast.

I still remember writing those prompts in school that always began something like: Ten years from now I hope to... And while most kids had loftier ambitions of becoming doctors who found a cure for cancer or movie stars or pro baseball players, mine were often vague statements that ended with some desire to travel and see the world. Reflecting back on the places I've been and the things that I've been fortunate enough to experience, I marvel at how true to form those words on a piece of paper have turned out to be. In many ways, I feel that my life has been a constant journey of self-discovery with a continuous and unpredictable bend in the road.

In college, I graduated from family trips to backpacking on my own or with friends. I was constantly occupied with thoughts about my next destination and how to make it happen. My parents threw a fit when I announced I was going on my first solo journey, but I think on some level, they probably knew that they set the whole thing in motion years ago--and that my gypsy-blood and spirit of exploration partially came from them. Over the years, they've mellowed out, which is a good thing...because if they only knew...

It's taken some reflection to condense all of my feelings and thoughts into a singular travel philosophy, so this my attempt: I feel like travel is one part culinary discovery (trying the local cuisine), one part cultural experience (immersing yourself in a new language and strange customs, appreciating the architecture, the music, the art), one part sensory confusion (experiencing the beauty of the newness), one part unavoidable mishaps (because those end up making the best stories) and another part the people encountered en-route (because certain people you come across will leave an indelible impression or inspire you with first or second-hand stories that blow your mind).

When I meet people who share a similar philosophy or have the travel bug, I'm quick to recognize it because they have that same look in their eyes--one that escapes description. Occasionally, I'll run into someone with fantastic stories from the road, and that feeling of restlessness intensifies out of nowhere. It's funny how that works--the travel bug can be dormant for so long, and then those symptoms of yearning for the road and restlessness start to set in. In fact, that's what's inspired this lengthy introspective post.

My friend introduced me to her friend, and the common threads between all of us were a love for climbing and an addiction to travel, so naturally after a night of climbing, the four of us ended up in a little North Beach cafe drinking coffee and sharing desserts. His stories--told with such vivid details--kept us enraptured and stirred renewed feelings of wanderlust. He talked about his trip to North Korea where he ran a self-created marathon in the parking lot, which sounds completely ridiculous, but as he recounted his adventures and continued to entertain us with his stories, I found myself connecting more to what translated as his need to push boundaries and experience something different. Here was a guy who had run 250 miles across Cuba with a twenty-five pound pack and a gallon-sized jug of water! Something about being surrounded  by people like that--people who I haven't encountered since my travels--rekindled my restlessness and pushed the "I-need-to-go-somewhere" button to a new level of urgency. It also made me deeply question my direction in life--where I'm going and where I want to be in ten years. It's funny because I was never a big fan of that question...

I think most people infected with the travel bug all wonder the same thing at a certain point--we all question it. I constantly waver between living in the moment and toeing the line of a path that feels more conventional. Tonight I was reminded of that same internal tug-of-war battle. Part of the issue stems from meeting people who have lived on opposite ends of the spectrum. One person I remember distinctly because he was so committed to that American brand of success--the right education that turns into a fast-track career that leads to a house in the suburbs with two kids. The other person lived an outwardly exciting life of exotic destinations and never ending adventures that resulted in a string of short-lived relationships and no place to call home. In the end, they each envied the life that they didn't have, or at least wondered...So now I wonder, is regret the life not lived, or is it possible to have both? The more I think about it, the more I think the answer is balance. Finding that happy medium where you can balance responsibility with adventure seems to be the real challenge. There's a sticker on my computer monitor at work that reads "work-life balance." I wonder if I will ever find that. 

I also feel like I'm reaching a turning point in my life where new priorities have once again jumbled that path of clarity...color me befuddled. Someday, I will pin down this work-life balance thing. But for now, it's back to work.

Whispers from the Desert

Nature and its raw beauty...We pulled over to the side of the road, and behind us was a sunset with such vibrant intensity that it felt almost otherworldly. Winter camping in Death Valley is filled with open skies, beautiful sunsets, starry nights and landscapes that seem to stretch to infinity.

We spent four days camping at Furnace Creek. The temperature dropped to the mid 30s in the middle of the night--chilly mornings, but comfortable daytime temperatures. Death Valley is so big--We logged a lot of driving miles, hopping from one scenic point to the next. The salt flats were probably my favorite.

Rocking Out

Mount Diablo State Park

SF Underground Market

We went to the SF Underground Market where we got to sample some some fantastically inventive culinary creations.  In the spirit of pop-up restaurants and the food truck sensation, the underground market is a way to bring backyard and home-kitchen style cooking right to the people, giving aspiring chefs the chance to share their food with the public without needing commercial grade facilities.

Concept-wise the underground market is nothing short of brilliant.  Here's the way it works: Everyone who wants to attend these events has to sign up as a member.  Sign-up is quick and painless, only requiring an email address and acknowledgment of the indemnification agreement.  A date is set and a venue is rented out for the event.  This last time it was held at the Public Works building in the Mission. 

There's a $5 cover charge at the door, and once inside you can pick and choose what kind of food and treats you want to buy.  The different booths had food ranging from $3 - $6, and portion sizes were generous.  We bought several different dishes to share amongst the three of us, and found ourselves happily stuffed after only a handful of different plates. My favorite food of the night was the duck gnocchi, the rabbit stew, and the chocolate and pistachio bread pudding.  The Dungeness Crab tostados looked good too, but there were so many other things we didn't get to try. 



The Public Works building isn't enormous, but the Forage SF crew managed to pack a lot into a small space: two floors of vendors, scattered tables and seating, a stage with a live band, two full bars, and the art gallery (for additional seating), as well as the back patio with outdoor seating and a couple more vendors.  

Come early to avoid the long line that wraps around the building.  And once inside, tag-team the lines to get your food because as the night goes on, the lines only get longer.

Alamere Falls Hike

I thought places like this only existed in dreams...



Alamere Falls is my new favorite hike--with a waterfall that breaks right onto the beach, miles of rugged coastline, mossy-green covered trails, and scenic panoramic views--it's my recipe for a perfect hike. The only thing that was missing was the sun.  But even the dense fog and the rain that rolled in couldn't damper our mood when we finally made it to the falls. 

Getting to the trailhead was a mission in itself.  Located about an hour's drive from San Francisco, the hike starts at the Palomarin trailhead in an unmarked dirt parking lot at Point Reyes National Seashore.  It's accessed by the 1-Coast Hwy, criss-crossing roads that are so winding they look like they belong in a high performance car commercial. We overshot Olema-Bolinas Road looking for a street sign that didn't exist, and serendipitously ended up at a turnout with another lost car looking for the same road. A friendly hiker gave us a trail map, and we were able to find the unmarked road.

The hike itself is an easy 8-mile R/T trek with sweeping views of the ocean on one side and verdant eucalyptus groves on the other.  We encountered a lot of salamanders and banana slugs on the wet trail.  By the time we reached the falls, we got a brief reprieve from the rain and fog, and we timed it just right to be on the beach at low tide.  



How to get there:
(From SF) Take the 101 to Hwy-1 North toward Stinson Beach.  Continue on Hwy 1, and make a left on Olema-Bolinas Rd. If you miss this unmarked street, the next available left is Horseshoe Hill Rd.  Both streets meet up, so you can take either road.    Turn right on Mesa Rd. past the Point Reyes Bird Observatory.  The road turns into a dirt road that leads to a small parking lot, and the beginning of the Palomarin trailhead.  (No Adventure Pass or parking permit is needed)

Trail:
Stay on the main path that follows the coast.  Where the trail forks, follow the sign toward Wildcat Camp.  There will be a sign for a detour to the Alamere Falls Trail on the left.  The sign cautions hikers that the trail is dangerous and unmaintained, but it's actually fairly well-traveled and even the rocky scramble down to the falls didn't seem too treacherous.  

a weekend away from the fog

Living in the Bay has made me sun-starved.  I'm tired of sweaters and jackets and spontaneous downpours.  I miss living in sandals year-round, real beaches, and the vivid blues and greens that make everything seem alive.  How rejuvenating it was to be back for a So Cal weekend in mid-January that felt like summer!  On Saturday I was grinning like an idiot all day just because the sunshine made me happy--I couldn't help myself.  I guess it is the simple things that really matter to me...

Around the corner was this beach.  In the mornings, I went for bare-foot jogs--loving that feeling of the sand under my toes.  I watched the surfers paddle out past the breaks, did cartwheels in the sand, and just tried to soak it all in.  

Spelunking in the Santa Cruz Caves

An unforgettable, dirt-filled, exhaustive adventure through the Santa Cruz Caves...It rained just enough on Sunday to make it interesting.  We were slipping and sliding over everything, and most of us had trouble keeping our foot placement on the slick holds.  We spent eight hours exploring the depths of the elaborate labyrinth of caves--crawling, shimmying, and climbing our way through the honeycomb network, and we still didn't see it all.    

There was a lot of laughing, a lot of, "You want me to fit through that?  Head first or feet first?" kind of talk.  We felt like we were in The Goonies movie.  Tiny little passage ways opened to larger caverns.  We could see how getting lost could be so easy.  The darkness disguised the deep trenches where one misstep could lead to...we tried not to contemplate that thought.  It was a good thing we had Stan to navigate us around the dangerous maneuvers and to lead us back out to the safety of the open air.

We made it to the hall of faces--a large cavern where people have crafted artistic creations of everything imaginable into the walls, using the grimy, muddy, clay-like substance.  We left our own sculptures--a giraffe in a boat, a snake, a bear, and Ryan did reconstructive surgery on some of the faces that were already there.  We read through the notebook that served as a visitors log and left our own notes.

This was a lot like the caving Chrissy and I did in Budapest except that for this one more technical climbing ability was needed.  We learned some good chimney and stemming technique on the fly through some good tips from Stan.  It's really not the kind place to venture without someone who knows what they're doing.  And as Stan suggested, "you might want to reconsider if you wear an XL shirt."  

When we finally made it out of the caves and retrieved the bags of gear we had hidden from the path, we were starving and ready for some group bonding time over pizza and beer.  The look on people's faces was priceless when we emerged from the forest and bum-rushed the public restrooms all mud-encrusted and rain-drenched, looking like characters from "The Swamp Thing."   

Special gear required?  

• head torches
• knee and elbow pads
• mud-ready shoes that are good on slick surfaces
• someone who knows where they're going

Thanksgiving

The older I get, the more I realize how important tradition has become...



I don't just mean turkey--but the whole ritual of all 30+ people gathered around the extended table (that seems to grow each year), the passing of the food, the continuous laughter, the loud conversations, side conversations, and commotion of it all...Thanksgiving has somehow slipped past Christmas for my favorite holiday.

Bouldering near Putah Creek

Taking advantage of the unseasonably awesome bay area weather, and getting acquainted with my new playground...



Good people + good weather + good bouldering + peaceful scenery = a perfect day.  This quiet little spot near Winters beats Glen Canyon.  

Sharktoberfest!

How does shark week and beer go together?  Sharktoberfest! at the Cal Academy of Sciences 
Each week the museum hosts a different theme for the special nightlife program.  This month it was sharks and beer.  The museum opens after hours, which is kind of cool, and admission is only available to those 21 and older.  Patrons get the entire run of the museum, and there are food vendors and bars set up around random exhibits--think club night for the intellectual crowd.

My roommate, Courtney, and I had a good time exploring all the exhibits, handling starfish in the marine touch-tank, trying to figure out where all the shark displays were, getting freaked out by the albino alligator--all while enjoying some nice craft beer...For a shark week theme, we couldn't find too many exhibits relating to sharks (I think we counted 2). It was the one disappointment of the night.



Admission for nightlife is only $12, compared to the normal day price of $20 for adults.  It's actually a brilliant business plan--charging a low cover and raising the premium on drinks-- which is exactly what they did.  Eight dollar beers, eleven dollar wine, food was reasonable though--I'm sure they made a killing!  

Still, it's fun exploring the museum at night--another one of those activities that are uniquely San Franciscan...

Big Sur Sojourn

We heard about some natural, unspoiled hot springs at the edge of the Ventana Wilderness in Big Sur, and just had to see it for ourselves.  My friend, Cuong, and I made the 11-mile backcountry journey from the Big Sur Forest Ranger Station, following the winding (sometimes demoralizing) Pine Ridge Trail.  The first three miles were the worst.  We started our hike in the mid-afternoon heat, and much of the beginning of the trail is exposed.  Adding to that was the seemingly continuous uphill and downhill action that kept us guessing when we would finally level out.  Physically, it's a pretty demanding hike (especially with 20-30 pound packs of gear), but the payoff is definitely worth it!

At about the 7.5 mile marker, we reached Barlow Flats (one of the designated campsites on the map).  With the sun sinking into the horizon, and our hunger signaling that it was close to dinner time, we decided to make our camp there for the night.  Barlow flats is a nice secluded campsite that can probably accomodate four groups.  (There are a few other sites scattered on the trail, and one at Sykes.)  We found a nice flat spot close to the stream for easy water access.  It was really tranquil (except at night when the water was roaring), and there are nice swimming holes further downstream if you can stand the cold.  

The unique thing about backcountry camping in Ventana is that each designated site has a wilderness toilet.  Basically, it's a pine-wood constructed pit toilet without walls, so you are very much at one with nature...but it beats digging a hole.    

We left for Sykes early in the morning, and had a little trouble locating the hot springs.  Tip: Follow the direction of the signs for the wilderness toilet and continue past it, following that same general direction.  We criss-crossed the river a few times, but knew we were there when we smelled the unmistakable odor of sulfur.  

There were three (that we found) hot tub sized springs (one large one) perched on the edge of the cliff overlooking the river below.  The scenery is nice.  The temperature is hot (not luke warm) like some springs.  And the natural beauty of it makes it easy to relax and take in the mellow vibes of Big Sur.  You can soothe your weary body and find peace in the therapeutic springs.  Because it's such a journey to get there, the droves of people are kept away, and the pristine environment is kept intact.  

Essential Information:

• No reservations or camping fees are required
• Fire permits (for camping stoves) are required, but can be easily obtained at the ranger's station free of charge.
• Parking is $5/night
• Trail maps of the Ventana Wilderness showing all the designated campsites can be purchased from REI or Sportsbasement for about $14
• There is no running water, but most campsites are located near a fresh water source, so filtration devices or purification tablets will work