June 30th, 2010 (for real) Logan, to Green River, Wyoming

Got up at 8:00 ate a big free breakfast at the "Holy" Super 8 in Logan, then crashed back to sleep, dreaming of Hindu goddesses, and remembering things I still needed to do. ReAwoke at 9:30 then processed to intellegenly begin to pack the bike's saddlebags (both really need to weigh the same), then pack the tail pack which includes my computer, meds, and things that can;t take 110 degree heat which will cook things in my saddlebags, due to the heat enimating from my tail pipes.

11PM: Left the holy place, stopped at the school to feed my fish, met with my Dean of students, who was painting my room, and we bantered about a bit of next year student strategies. Held me up for an hour, then I checked my mail, and went to repay my son Logan for a hundred dollar loan. Logan was doing fine in his new place, and I took off like a bat from hell up Logan Canyon! Wasn't happy with the handling of the bike, and didn't feel confident in the twisty roads while going over the cache mountains, In fact, I was scared shitless much of the time, but I have an unNatural fear of hightes, cliffs, and things like that.
Don't know why, but it is real. I faced this fear and drove 30 miles through the bastard mountains, before descending down into the Bear lake area. After that, all was flat, like I am used to, being from Texas. It was funny: A group of elderly BMW riders, passed me going up the mountains, then I joined them in a big rest area overlook, but was to ashamed to talk to them. I hurried up and left down the other side doing 40 mph and they re-passed me going down to Bear Lake. Fortunately, they went left to Idaho, and I went right to Wyoming! Glad not to have to explain my phobia, to such accomplished veteran long distance riders.

Stopped at the south end of Bear Lake to grab a beer, to lessen the coffee in me, and get some much needed sun screen for my bare shoulders. Distance from Logan: 50 miles only. The 50 miles took me nearly two hours, due to my phobias, and my stopping to stretch my legs, which are two long for this bike. This bike feels unbalanced or something. Me thinks, that their is way to much weight on the tail end of this bike. I really miss my CB900 Custom right now. It is a low and heavy piece of metal, with a very nice automatic air suspension. This bike feels overloaded, and fishy, I will figure this issue out in the near future.

Drove out of the lake area and headed to "Kemmerer" Wyoming, after many miles of dry Wyoming sagebrush desert, with a bunch of smaller windy hills, so the road is curvey but not too scary for me. The winds are a bit unpredictable, and there is a
high number of mining trucks, all of which prefer to go 90 MPH, while I am doing 60 due to the winds affect on my sail-like windshield.

So, after 3 hours of stopping and driving slow, I finally made "Kemmerer", Since it was around 4 PM, I opted to eat a subway sandwich, and buy a map, since I had little idea where "Kemmerer" was! Yes, my cell phone has a "Google" Map, and GPS system, but "Kemmerer"? It say "Me savvy no signal", which really isn't the same as a map is it! I really thought that paper maps, were obsolete for me. Hahaha, So by a real map, I was barely past the border of northern utah, and barely into the south western corner of Wyoming. Nice. All that shit for little map progress! But I AM NO LONGER IN UTAH! AND I FACED MY DEEP FEAR OF DRIVING ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS TO GET THERE! All my Logan friends consider this an easy thing to do. Sorry, this easy thing was tough for me. I don't mind cliffs at a slow dirtbike speed, or to walk near them. But driving 50 mph, along one is not for me. Nuff said!

So the extremely cute Wyoming chick at Subway clinically made me a nice sandwich, and the not so cute (she was nearly my age) chick who sold me the map could flirt the chrome off a trailer hitch (yes, I heard the nasty version of that analogy), and I
managed to hang out there in "Kemmerer" for quite some time. My legs were locking up due to the proximity of the seat to the foot pegs. And I needed some solid food, since I ate last in the early morning, and that wasn't made of MEAT!

Remember those sandpiles we would play in as kids? Where we would scoop out gullies, and ditches, then try to plant the occasional sprig of grass, or substitute using dead twigs and chit like that? Try building a little town in the middle of the deepest depression of that, add a Subway/gas station, and few cheap motels, houses, other assorted buildings and Viola! KEMMERER! They built the town down low out of the wind. From a distance, you couldn't tell it existed. Many of the buildings and streets were "oil company funded" brand new. I actually liked the little town, but a bit small for my tastes. The next town however, I will retire to at some point..

Leaving Kemmerer, the sky looked like a brownish BLACK curtain 2/3rds to the direction I was going. Two miles down the highway, I caught a small shower of giant cold rain drops, which bespeckled my sunglasses, which are all the eye protection I
have with me! (I really need some ski goggles, as I am wearing a semi openfaced dirt bike helmet. Then the winds got crazy. Couldn't predict where the would hit, but they were yanking my 1000cc bike all over the road like an evil kid with a play toy. I slowed down to 50 Miles per hour. I had more control of the bike, but the veritable plethora of big fucking, double tractor trailer trucks, were running me down every couple minutes! I am beginning to think of Wyoming, as a big giant mining pit, that Dick Cheney plays in, like a little kid, while sticks the valuable ore in the pockets of his shorts, so as to put a few more coins in his piggy bank... LOL! (the mind starts to wander in scary assed positions such as this one.) So then the torrential rains start to smash into me, as I duck my head behind the opaque windshield, and dropping the speed to 40, while more violent trucks attempt to run me off the road, in order to get their contents to their happy place, without a minute to spare.

The wind was even more violent, and goody! Lightning was crashing all around, while I blindly tried to out run this strange storm and avoid the trucks from smashing me into a pancake. This hell lasted for nearly an hour.

The sky finally broke a little, then I was driving in the bright sunshine, with a buttload of rain still smacking into me, but since the winds abated, the only thing I had to watch for was the copious amount of TRUCKS! Most trucks showed some respect, but one or two literally drove me into the should, covered me with their wash, which blinded me for a few seconds, and really pissed me off! One in particular, I wish I could meet again.....

So now I'm happy, driving though the water on the road with my new tires, confident that I wont hydroplane, and now the rain stopped, the winds quit, and I am back up to 65 miles per hour, with little worry in the world. At 65 trucks will still need to pass, but not nearly as often as when one is going 40. After the 15 minutes of relief after a few hours of total fear and hell, I started to enjoy the trip (although Kemmerer was a fun stop), then I got to Interstate 80, which Eisenhauer planned back in the late 50's as part of the "Super Highway System", and is a much nicer road, than the little assbag trails that I came from.
I was able to wind the bitch up too 75 MPH for the first time in my short journey. I have gone 75 many, many times in my years of biking, but this bike doesn't feel right. Yes, it was still a little windy, but the bike doesn't feel stable or something. So I laid my big belly on the tank, in order to counter balance the 70 pounds of cargo, in the back, and the bike felt far more stable. This bike, is one that the rider is required to lay on the gas tank, in what is commonly referred to as the "crotch rocket" style. Only problem with crotching it for long is the 8 inch risers, someone put on the handle bars, in order to sit straight up! Well... Sitting straight up, with a bunch of luggage in the back, makes for an unstable ride. I bet the thing would go into a "death wobble" or something, if I went beyond 100 mph. Next time I drive it, I will load, 35 more pounds, on the tank area, and off the tail, which will help immensely. I also plan to buy the goggles, remove the dirt bike visor (it occilates up and down, which annoys the shit out of me), and a tank bag to put my heavy objects in, like my camera and computer and stuff. I might even get a front fender pack in order to balance her. I also need to find a bike shop who can add a few more pounds of air to the front suspension. All this should make for a much better ride. Motorcycle riding does take a few adjustments in order to keep things pleasant and safe.

Got to the beautiful city of Green River Wyoming, after 30 more miles on the highway (by Ike). Nice drive mostly, but still getting passed while doing 70. But now they have a lane to pass in, and nothing coming from the other direction. Super Highways are far safer than farm roads, or smaller highways. Its a fact that most road deaths are on secondary, non urban roads. People just drive too fast for these roads. My kids and I used to see at least one or two burning flipped over cars and trucks, on our 20 miles commute to school back in the old days, deaths were usually involved, Oh well. Now we know how the general public views death. I take life seriously. Life is a gift afterall. I will risk my life if I have to. But I don't enjoy it, and generally take the safest route possible. Looks like Super Highways will bring me back to Texas.


God I love this city! Green River Wyoming. It has a certain ancient Atlantic seaboard since of architecture to the downtown area, mixed with the clean, new money look and the secondary tourist trap thing going on. Hard to describe overall, but it
is nice, clean, friendly, and has 12 bars in a town of 11000 people. This doesnt include restaurants with bars.
Logan utah, for example has 3 bars and 55000 people. Guess which city I prefer? Ok, enough of that, and you folks know by now that I do love the Mormons, and teaching their kids. But Logan Utah, ain't no Green River, and never will be! I went to the "single feather" bar tonite, which I walked to from my stately $35 dollar a nite hotel, had three beers and a bowl of smokin red hot pork rinds...... the fare was only $7.00. Three Pints of draft beer. Sheesh!

I found a clean comfortable room with internet for only $35 called the "Flaming Gorge", tomorrow I plan to view the actual "Flaming Gorge" and possible do some sailing or kayaking. Heck, this is my vacation and I know I won't see a nicer place than this town, so I might just spend a few days here, Once I get to Nebraska, I will do those 400 mile days. But not here in Green River. This place also has a huge county library, a big museum, a first class central park, a working old time train station, need I say more? I only explored the area for 30 minutes or so, and haven't seen the river or the newer part of the city. But I put this first on my list of retirement places. Although, I don't plan to retire for at least another couple decades.

My Virgin mobile phone doesn't get service here, but I still choose to give my hard earned money to a space pioneer like Richard Branson, than the corporate money gluttons that run ATT. I did get to contact Mom and another friend with the free WIFI at this excellent motel. Unfortunately I will have to walk a couple blocks for brekkies, at the "Crazy Moose" restaurant, which is part of the "single feather" bar. The bartender told me of the other good bars, and I told him, that I don't slut around
and cheat once I found a bar i approve of. More on this wonderful city tomorrow. There is rumored to be an even more wonderful city 18 miles down the highway called "Rock Springs", although its a college town, I doubt it can compare to Green River. But I might have a gander.

June 30th, 2010

The bike came out of the shop after 7:00PM with new tires. The handling and lack of strange road noises were noticed immediately, the old tires were so cupped in places the bike tried to slide out from under me yesterday while turning a corner. A very hard "foot plant" into the concrete is all that kept the bike from going down in the street, with a car behind me. This scared me enough to postpone the trip another two days, and shell out a considerable amount of money for the tires. The difference noticed in the bikes handling while, driving back to the "Super 8", is far more important than things like money and time. God only knows what would have happened had I tried to go to Dallas on those old tires? At best I could have been stranded, at worst?? I don't want to think about it. One should never compromise when it comes to safety, especially on a motorbike.


Second night in the Logan "Super 8" motel. I love this place, wish I could rent a room by the month here. Sure it smells old and dank in the main hallway, and some of the furniture should be chopped up and burned, but the Indians that run the place put off such a friendly vibe, combined with the best damn Jacuzzi on the planet, make this place excellent in my book. $50 per night, makes it the second cheapest place in Logan, but I much prefer it to the far more expensive Best Western I stayed in two weeks ago. Actually I prefer the two nights I spent, in the truck camper, behind Mikes house, in the Middle of the valley, out in the country with a marsh full of cattails and frogs to keep me company. This jacuzzi is 100 degrees in heat, with hundreds more jets than the standard ones. The size was big enough for 10 people and no danger of brushing against your neighbor. The force behind the water flow, was reminiscent of the Pratt and Whitleys of a 747. The best Jacuzzi I have have sat in, and the nice cold 5 foot deep, indoor pool, is the perfect place to jump into afterward. It was heaven.

Nite all, leaving for Wyoming in the morning.

June 29th, 2010

Hell, where do I begin. I know I should blog more, but during the school year nothing of merit seems to happen. I live for the summer it seems. And this has been quite a different summer than before.


I got the call from my landlord that "she was selling the house and I needed to move this summer", so I decided to move early and be homeless for six weeks, while traveling, I would save rent money. I could tell ya the whole story later, but this suffices for now. So I spent the days between June 16th and June 29th, homeless basically. I spent 8 of these days camping and living in the camper in the back of my truck. 7 of these days were in hotels of some form.


The trouble with constant camping is that I have been running constantly every day, mailing out EBAY auction stuff, which will enable me to go on my big motorcycle trip, and I spent sometime getting help from my doctor and dentist, which was well needed, but I had to do some magic document dynamics, in order to be reembursed for the extreme expenses that medical care requires nowadays.

So my dream is to ride by motorcycle to Dallas and back, which is really not much of a dream, considering that I have several friends that have driven their bikes, trillions of miles, with no big deadly problems. I just bought a 2000 Kawasaki Concours, which is a "Ninja", tamed down with a drive shaft, and a few other compensations, but the bike is pretty, looks new , and is fast as hell!

I have spent over 1200 dollars, getting her perfect for this voyage. All my EBAY effort has been in order to counteract the price I paid to get this 10 year old bike in perfect condition.

I have been writing most of this "transition time" but havent learned how to upload all that onto this forum. I swear, the things I have experienced and noticed, will have you in stitches for many years to come. But I have a need to put down a new page, after slacking for so long. I hope I can entertain you viewers with some cool stuff pretty soon.

I set out today at 8:00 AM to: 1. Mail a fuggin huge 130 pound package to some cajun man in Opelousas Lousiana, which consisted of a "Warn 9000 portable Winch", He paid me 900 bucks for it. He will be able to pull out a house with this thing. But I am finally rid of the big heavy equipment, so I am a happy man! Then I went to my classroom and proceded to figure out why my "Lion fish" is sooo distressed. Since my saltwater tank chemistry was fine, I brought out my "Salt content", device from the bowels of my storage shed, and it indicated, that I have not checked my salt level in some time. My classroom tank was close to the same levels as the fickin "Dead Sea", which I spent 2 hours of water changes in order to bring the tank to normal. My attention to my fish, has brought happy results.

Then I had to take the truck camper, with camping trailer (dirtbike, bicycle, and trash), to my old buddy Mr. Burninghams house. Unfortunately, Mr. "B" has more shit than I, but he claims that he has a place to park it. Mr. "B" is the heart of the
Art Department at Logan High, and I attest that he is a damn good man!


"Then I went back to my other best friend "Mike Nelson", who was working on my bike. "Mike" is an incredible human being in his own wright." Mike, not only has an excellent motorcycle shop in his own garage, but he also leads motorcycle tours for some company in Los Angeles, CA. He is also the local Captain for "BACA", whose organization is an advocate for abused kids, which gets involved with helping out the unfortunate, and they go as far as they need to help these people. I might become a member at some point.

At Mikes, we noticed the sorry condition of my tires, but today we couldnt find any new ones locally. So tonight I'm in a "Super 8" motel, waiting for my tires, which should come in tomorrow.

April 9th, 2010

Ok, its really close to midnite April 9th, but it is really April the 8th.

Just doing the Spring Break thing, staying up late at night and partying down by myself. Been playing music by my favorite Blues singer "Buddy Guy" much of the day. Had lots of Ceviche left over to eat today, it was ok, but I prefer the fresh stuff.

I was reading thru another "Truck Camping" site written by a 30 something couple, and they seem to be living a free life. I still envy and seek to emulate these folks one of these days, but I seem to be addicted to my current salary and job, which I do like. I hate the regementation of a 50 hour a week job, and my blood pressure gets worse every year because of this. But a good job is as addicting as heroin or tobacco, I simply can;t bring myself to break from a fifty grand per year job, during this economy. If I don't, I will likely die from a stroke (knock on wood).

I spent this Spring Break, focusing on eliminating salt from my diet and eating less. I have lost 15 pounds so far, but it isnt much, considering I now only weigh 3oo pounds (I am 6' 3" but I still feel like shit much of the time). Confined to a specific area, interacting with hundreds each day, while having to wake at 6 am. and the other responsibilities, as totally foreign and unnatural to my entire existance. Hard to describe it, but I feel like a freakin cow, doomed to life in a feed lot. I never liked the career thing, but since moving up here to Utah, at least the job is much more pleasant than my previous place of work.

I really envy this couple, who are making it as work kampers, plus a few online enterprises, who travel the country and enjoy themselves while still in their 30's. Check out their website, which is simular to mine, but Im still dreamin and they are out there enjoying their freedom... http://hitekhomeless.net/2008/05/free-at-last-free-at-last-johnny

I wish these people the best, its obvious to me that they know what they are doing.

After I return from a month in South East Asia this summer, I plan to fulltime it in my camper for a month or more. Hopefully, I can break away from my little pen in a few years.

My observations on Truck Camping so far is this:

1. Far more convienient than pulling a camping trailer: I generally go much farther up the trails than the trailer peeps. They enjoy the space, I enjoy the solitude. I enjoy the much-improved gas mileage, and driving ease in the towns and cities. I also have much more "Stealth" ability, since I can park on the street, and the cops are unlikely to catch me! I also, have the luxury of pulling a small trailer for motorcycles, kayaks and other toys!

2. Cheaper to heat.. Up here in the Northern Rockies, its nice to warm up your home, 5 minutes just by making coffee on the stove. A luxury to die for, believe me.

3. Quicker to get the hell outta there! I can bug out of a campsite, in 5 minutes. Try doing this as a tent camper. I twice had to bug out during my tent camping days, once due to a storm, another due to some weird asses who chose to camp next to me and my three little children, on a beach where I was the only camper.

4. You have to be mindful of the huge blindspots, but you learn to move much slower when the camper is on. (I am a lazy ass, so I leave the camper on full time).

5. Get the smallest truck camper rated for your truck, otherwise your camper will be wagging the dog, rather than the truck wagging the camper. (this statement might make little sense to the layman). But yes, overload and your asking for it.

6. Truck Campers are way too small for fulltiming, unless you can create a nice outdoor patio, where you can lounge. Don't forget the sunshades, and camp chairs here. You will not like being emtombed for days on end.

7. I enjoy myself more if I bring a bicycle and motorbike, for alternative exploration.

8. Keep your rig lo-tech as possible. No satillite internet, cell phone access, need for much electricity. Keep it all batteries, and propane. My little shortwave on 4 batteries, lasts for days, and provides much entertainment, when combined with books. All inside camper lights, are led battery powered, or kerosene lantern. If I was really fulltime, I would pack a laptop with a wifi antennea, plus an inverter to charge the batteries.

9. A dog is a better companion that most humans. Think before you add that passenger!

10. Always bring 5 gallons more water than you;ll think you need!!!!! Pack a 0 degree rated in the sleeping bag in your rig at all times.

11. An emergency first aid kit and a few army MRE/s are essential.

12. Bring a guitar and a bottle of whiskey for each wilderness place you camp. This way you can get it out of your system, and few will be forced to hear it.

April 7th, 2010

Damn this cold assed weather during "Spring Break". Since "Spring" involves two 8 inch snow storms, within 6 days, the ground is trying to melt enough to where the cold air makes this place a swamp. Up in these climes, the sun goes down pretty quick, so its only warm (50's) for a few hours, then the temp plummets even before dark. Hate to bitch but its been snowy and cold since late October; Why the fuck would anyone want to live here for climatic reasons. As endearing that I find the "Winter Wonderland", and I do complain less than the locals, but the fact remains: Eight cold assed months per year just chaps my ass. And Yes! I said 8 months, meaning October thru May (and June isn't all that warm). Better have some warm clothes in those months or your screwed.
Today we got up to 40 degrees, of course it was below freezing most of the day, but the sun came out and burnt off much of the snow. I managed to sit in my sunny back yard for one hour and can attest that it was pretty nice out for 30 minutes today, while the rest of the day was cold as hell.

I was dreaming of the tropics, and went to the local Mexican grocery, and bought some ingredients to make "Ceviche", which is a very tropical sort of fruit and veggie salad, centered around fish. True Ceviche calls for one to marinate the chunks of fish in lime and lemon juice for an hour or so. This actually cooks the fish. The flesh turns "cooked" in that time from the chemical reaction with the acidic juice alone. They say, that some of the bacteria, on the dead fish
dies during the "cooking process". I washed the heck of of the fish before making the dish.

Salmon, Tilapia, y Camaron Ceviche' con Requeson....

1 pound of Salmon and Tilapia fillets plus 1/4 lb small shrimp.

(I prefer the cheap vac-sealed Walmart fillets frozen from China. Although the Tilapia does grow in rice paddies fertilized by human dung, I swear that i neither smelled nor tasted it while eating the uncooked fish!)

One finely chopped big Jalapeno.

5 large cloves of finely chopped Garlic.

2 smallish tomatoes of the "on the vine" variety.

1/3 chopped cucumber.

2 oz of finely chopped cilantro.... make sure its fresh and all that.

one good sized rotten avocado.

One orange chopped well.

4 limes, plus reconstituted lemon and lime juice, you might need it.

Honey

Tabasco sauce

Corn tortillas

Requeson cheese (heavenly stuff, I think it either comes from goats or indian maidens, not too sure of its origin).

Sour creme

I didnt use any onions due to my roommate, but some onion should be required.

INSTRUCTIONS:

Rinse the heck out of your fish.

Blot fish dry then blot some more. Cut the fish into 1 quarter inch squares. Dry again. Mix salmon, shrimp, and tilapia, in a a bath of lime juice, I squeezed the inital lime juice bath then added the reconstitued stuff, once that was soaked up. The fish looked pretty cooked after bathing in the first lime juice.


Add a copius amount of Mrs. Dash seasoning, to the fish and mix with your clean hand. Cover and let cook the the fridge for an hour mixing once at least.

Chop your veggies, drain marinade from fish, add honey and tabasco, then mix the veggies into the fish and take your time stirring, keep it all cold.

Heat up a corn tortilla on the greasy skillet.


Toss a little "requeson" cheese on the tortilla, then put some of the ceviche on it, put a wad of sour cream on the cervice. Eat with reckless abandon.


enjoy...

March 13th, 2010

Robin and Vanessa's birthday! Dos Pisces mommas; I wish them well!

Snow is falling today. Pretty snow; like in the fall, before compressed, dirty, slick, old snow forms into ice, therefore; putting a treacherous element into all things outdoors for four months.

Now that the old crap is clear, I welcome a nice blanket of new snow which will soon dissappear, like snow is supposed to do. Time for spring anyhow!

Today, I am making 5 more gallons of Mead (honey wine), which is now my favorite drink. Sorry Beer!!! This is the most ancient drink in the world; they have archeological evidence of this. Mead is easier to make than beer and wine. It consists of honey, water, and yeast. Takes 30 minutes to make 5 gallons, and a month to drink it! For less than 2 bucks a bottle...

Also marinated some asparagus (tis the season!), and salmon, to be grilled on the stove, due to inclimate weather (The weather here is known for its "inclimantness").


Thats all for today, Im too hungry to write..

Ok, I ate the Salmon and aspharagus and it was so good that i feel like sharing the recipe with you:

*when cooking fish you best be extra vigilant! One or two minutes here or there will cause problems. The trick is to take it off the heat exactly in its proper time. Salmon is easy to cook since the red flesh turns white when cooked. I say keep it at a light whitish pink for edibility purposes. Otherwise its either raw , fishy, or dry as shit! This is how I cook a 2/3 inch thick, 3/4 pound salmon fillet:
(do each step like I suggest or your screwed!)

1. rinse fillet off in cold water, this will remove all surface bacteria, fish pus, and other foul things.

2. Blot filet on paper towel till fairly dry.

3. Sprinkle on your favorite dry salmon cooking spice. I use either garlic powder/oregano/ cayenne pepper/ black pepper/ lemon pepper, and some other fish spice I cant recall; or I just hit the fish with a sprinkle of Mrs Dash original spice mix.

4. Rub the spices in good and let sit for ten minutes or more.

5. drizzle a bit of lemon juice on the bastard, let sit for ten more minutes.

6. Put fish in ziploc bag pour olive oil all over it and squish to distribute.

7. Refrigerate for an hour or more.

8. Do the same to the aspharagus using the same spices as the fish.

****REMEMBER TO SNAP THE BIG ENDS of the ASPARAGUS OFF WITH YOUR FINGERS FIRST OR YOU WILL BE EATING A WOODY PULP!

9. Either grill your Asparagus direct on the grill (MEDIUM HIGH HEAT), keeping them moving every minute and basting with marinade; or just make a rectangular foil boat, with sides about 3/4 inch high, and allow the olive oil to gently fry the asparagus on the cooler side of the grill. In a frying pan just gently grill on low/medium for 20 minutes turning on occasion. Sprinkly a little soy sauce mid way, which is all the salt we add for this.

10. Since the veggies take longer, we do them first and wrap them in paper towels to keep them warm and remove some grease.

11. Get the grill or stove up to medium hot (setting 7 or 8 if you are dim).

12. Place the salmon filet meatside down for 4 minutes, or till the white gets about half way up the thickness of the meat.

13. Flip it skin side down, and dump a bit of soy on the top to taste, wait a couple minutes and splash a bit of wine on the fish. Then let sit for about six minutes until the cross section of the fish, looks white on top and bottom and a sliver of pink in the middle.

14. Remove fish, toss on the plate with remaining wine/soy/oil gravy.

IF YOU MADE THIS LIKE I ASKED, YOU WILL BE IN HEAVEN!

Night all, I hope you enjoyed your cooking lesson today.

AL

MARCH, 4TH, 2010

My God, where does the time go? Had a lot of personal crap the past three months, involving my kids and stuff. January and February will not be discussed. March is here and the snow is melting quite early this year. I got the house cleaned up nicely, and my son moved into a flop house with a few of his co-workers. Kind of nice being alone for the first time since age 23, I think I can dig this!

Turns out one of my students parents has an excellent motorcycle shop in his garage, complete with bike lifts, and all the best tools. He charged me a mere 45 bucks per hours to get my pristine Honda CB900 Custom in perfect working order. I paid about $2000 total for a beautiful, well kept 30 year old bike that runs and looks almost new. I get far more compliments on this ride than I did with my brand new 2007 Suzuki v-strom, which I enjoyed as well.

The Honda, growls like an angry cat as it quickly strips away through the power band, and the gears fall into place. Its long touring design, includes a drive shaft and air suspension, makes it feel more like a an old Fleetwood pimp machine, which slithers around the corners and takes off with a long push before the final blast off! Its ancient two-toned colors and near perfect chrome gleam like the dreams of millions of Japanese, rebuilding their society after the chaos of the second world war. Funny, my bike was made only 35 years after WW2, and is more solid and reliable than the junk they are sending on the road today.

December 23rd, 2009

Yeah, I know I been bad and didnt write for many months....

But I did write today!


I spend much of my time reading and learning about sailing, since I fully plan to sail across an ocean before I die. This has been a life long dream, and I never cease to stop reading and learning more about what is involved with it. I can and will do this at some point and time.
Today I was reading differnent forums of other dreamers like me, and came across
a topic called: The Sailor's Confessional
Stories on things that went wrong while cruising. Such tales can sometimes be amusing, but more importantly, the rest of us can learn from them.

I decided to relay one of my worst sailing stories to this website. Hear it goes!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years ago, after having quite a bit of sailing and ocean sailing experience, I bought a Cal 20, just for playing around in a smallish local lake. I got the Cal for 1000 bucks so I triumphantly brought her home. Only then did I look up her specifications on the Cal 20 owners website. Cal 20's should weigh a couple thousand pounds normally. http://pages.sssnet.com/go2erie/cal20.htm

I found that the boat had been heavily altered, including chopping off her torpedo looking keel bulb (450 lbs)! There were also a few brilliant mods, like cockpit control of the halyards. I called the seller, and he called his uncle who originaly sold it to him. The Uncle, was an elderly Australian fellow who seemed to know about boats. He told me that he also chopped the mast off by a couple feet and had the sails resized inorder to keep the boat from being "tender". He also mentioned that he customized the boat to suit him, since he was a parapalegic and couldnt really walk.

Me and one of my friends took my 12 year old son and 3 of his little friends out to the local Texas lake to do Sea-trials. Needless to say that the days weather was quite stormy and the wind constantly picked up then dropped, then picked up again thoughout the entire day.


Once we got her rigged, and the mast up, we had many hours of fun running the little boat around the lake and back, mainly under a full main and a working jib. We had the Great Cal 20 Maxxed out the entire time.....

Unfortunately a huge Texas bunch of nimbo-cumulous monster clouds poked their aweful heads, above the late afternoon horizon. I noticed, but not enough of a notice.

I being the Captain, was having the greatest time with the boat, and was running her mainly at hull speed, but made the fateful decision to sail down the lake one more time, although the weather as deteriating, before heading toward shore.

After leaving a long cove, things were looking calm, so I ordered all sails totally up, for more speed, soon we sailed past a windward point, as soon as we were past the shelter of a grove of tall pines, the squall hit like a hammer!

The alleged "not tender" boat got promptly knocked down harshly on its port side, like a whore being slapped by an angry pimp! The Captain (me) was steering on the portside at the time, and got washed out of the cockpit by the rush of water coming over the coaming. This all happened in an instant! I GOT WASHED OUT OF MY FRICKING BOAT!!!!. THE CAL 20 IS AN OCEAN GOING BOAT!!!! WTF????

I managed to grab a tailing rope on the way out, and was being pulled across the lake like a cod on a line, skidding on the surface and full of fear! The boat came back up pretty fast but was starting to get knocked down again under the pressure of the 60 mile per hour squall! My son doused the main, while his little buddies were crawling on the spacious deck, like a bunch of little ants. Since I released the jib as I got sucked out of the boat, that was no longer an issue.


Once the main was doused, and a few hectic minutes had passed, I managed to get back to the boat (thank god since no one on the boat knew how to sail, or turn it around to get me)...

I flopped my big ass onto the cockpit, pulled in the jib a little and we pounded our way back to the launch area. This was a tiny lake by Texas standards. Although the storm was nasty and full of electricity, we all got the boat on the trailer and didn't even lose one kid! Then I took them all out to the local steakhouse and told them how proud I was of them for not panicking nor jumping out of the boat while it was down on it's side.

I since sold the "non tender" boat, but I fully accept my guilt in the stupidity of allowing the boat to have too much sail up, and not to leave once I noticed that a storm was approaching. I'm quite grateful that the kids on board were safe. I learned much by this experience, and will never allow such a scene to happen again. Now that I am primarily an ocean sailer, I am way more cognisant of the dangers that the oncoming water has to offer.


Nuff said tonite!

Thursday, August 3rd, 2009

Great second week of school. Lots of good students, medium ones, and very few unpleasant ones. Had to restock my fish tank, since my room got too hot during my trip to Hawaii. This time I bought a Blue Tang, Butterfly fish, 2 Damsels, and a small Lion Fish, I also got a pencil urchin, a few crabs, and a brittle Starfish (they act more like Octupi). This is enough for a 50 gallon Saltwater Aquarium. The salt water holds less air than a freshwater, and three of these fish will grown quite large. The less fish you have, the less maintanience required.

I also replaced the uber lizard with a 9 foot Boa Constrictor. She is only 5 years old, but I suspect that the snake was overfed. 9 feet is huge for a boa, and a 5 year one should be only about 6 to 7 feet at most. This guy was feeding her a rabbit every other week which is twice as much food as she requires. But she is a big one and the kids in my classroom seem to enjoy having a giant snake in the class.

Once she sheds her skin we will be able to take her out of the caage and take her for walks and stuff. We did shoot a short video, of a smart-assed kid getting sent into the snake cage. Sure hope I dont get fired for this, but it was the kids idea, and no one was hurt in the production.

August 31st, 2009

I loved my single night truck camping adventure so much last weekend, that I decided to do it again this week. Freddy was raring to go and so was I. The first week of school was nice but hectic as always, and the wilderness was calling again.
After hearing about some girl with green hair, that was presumably missing after her boyfriend dropped her off at the top of Green Canyon trail head, I must admit that I was a bit apprehensive to say the least. She had been dropped there in early August, and had never been seen again. This is a sad story folks, but apparently she was unhappy with life, and thought that she would find herself communing with the wolves and mountain lions, while under the protection of her German Shepherd dog. Although, I knew that she disappeared, but since it was three weeks ago, my friends and I speculated that she probably hiked the ten miles to "Tony's Grove" lake, met some fella and proceeded to the big wilderness, about 200 miles North in the Jackson Hole area. The story was sketchy from the beginning, but this matter didn't concern me or Freddy, so we went camping again just 1/4 mile from where the Green haired girls boyfriend let her off.

Freddy and I are content to merely set up a campsite with a huge fire, throw the tennis ball a little, eat dinner, read, and play the guitar and sing as loudly as I used to back in the good old days when I had some land. Had we been hikers we might have found some disturbing shit only about 2 miles from our happy camping spot.

Freddy absolutely hates the rough 30 minute crawl up the sharp rocks of the canyon, while the truck rocks hither and thither like one of them old washing machines. He usually starts his whining and crying within the first 5 minutes and I must admit I find it quite aggravating. We got to the camp-site and realized that there was nary a stick of firewood to be found. This would not do. I rely on a big campfire for protection from the various wild animals that tend to live up here in the Northern Rockies, and I forget to mention that wolves have recently moved into this country from the Yellowstone area. So Wolves, Bears, Lions, and Moose, are all represented up here, with lions and moose the most common. I LIKE A BIG FIRE, is all I can say about all that.

I barely coaxed Freddy to get back in the truck, and we found some fallen timber about 10 minutes down the violent rocky trail. I found a rope, dropped the tailgate, and tied about 100 pounds of logs onto the tailgate using the "truckers hitch" which is a nice knot to know how to tie. That wood didn't move at all, although the truck was bouncing everywhere.

We got back and I got a big hot fire going, then settled down to read some more of the novel "Lonesome Dove", while watching the twilight set prematurely over the upper crags of the towering mountains on either side of us. I soon fired up the trusty old kerosene lamp which would provide extra light and protection against all the "scaries" that exist out here. Although I was careful to pack all the food into my backpack in the cab of the truck, I couldn't stop thinking about the stories, how bears can smell through all that. But all my food was packaged Indian cuisine and Japanese noodles, which I hoped wouldnt tempt any animal into ripping my truck doors off. I should have hung all the consumables up a bear bag, out of reach, but I was just to damned lazy. Plus I brought my twelve guage Winchester riot gun, which holds enough firepower to disuade the hungriest of animals.

After watching the big yellow moon go down, I proceeded to play a sweet version of "Pancho and Lefty" slowly, in the Willie Nelson style. After that song, I drank a few shots of Jim Beam and went into the ancient Irish sea shanty "The Irish Rover", both songs came out clear as a bell, since I had no audience to impress. The acoustics of the towering cliffs made the songs sound even better than usual.

Then I broke into an old epic love song I had written 30 years ago called: "Mary" (Who I initailly wrote it for escapes my memory), but the song is quite powerful, and is clearly the masterpiece of all my years of song writing. I played and sang it better than I ever have, and this is before the whiskey even started to hit me. The campers two miles away (there were none closer), might have heard "Maaaaaaaarrrrrrry, I feel your pain. I wish I could help you through the rai-a-ain-a-ain. You looked at me once with a smile on your faaaaaaaaaaccccceeeeee...... I - WAS - ENCHANTED - BY - YOUR - GRACE!" and it went on for 7 minutes or so, I was in extasy by the time the song had ended, since I haven't sung it this perfect before. (pardon me for bragging, but us Geminis are well known for cooking food, and telling others how good it tastes!)

Played a dozen less important songs, before I finally went to sleep at 3 in the morning. The loud crashing noise in the woods nearby, hurried me into the safety of the camper. I assumed it was an Elk, but stayed up and read my book for another 20 minutes just in case.


7 AM: Dog wakes me! Damn! not enough sleep. He was excited to get outside and make a nuisance of himself, so I went outside with him and made some camp coffee on my little "Brunton Stove", which fits in your pocket, but can cook a full meal once unfolded and screwed upon a little butane tank. This little bastard cooked me a pot of coffee and enough water for morning noodles in no time at all. Much easier than building a campfire in the morning and wasting wood. I was still way tired, so I went back into the camper and crashed until a decent hour, which was around noon. The dog was looking abit confused since I forgot to buy him food, and we treaded our way back down the canyon (45 minute trip each way), and bought him 5 cheap corndogs at the nearest conveinience store.

We hitched up some more wood for our return to the campsite but the dog, who was riding in the camper, got scared and stuck his arm through the screen in order to get out of the quaking vehicle. I was pissed at the damage, so I made him follow us the remainder of the way on foot. Once we got back, I realized that he was more than happy with the arrangement.

I can't explain it, but once we returned I got a creepy feeling that I can't describe. I wasn't afraid, but I felt creeped out by being in this campsite, although I've been here on two other nights. I had spotted another site earlier, a few miles down the canyon, so we packed up and headed that direction. Freddy, realizing that he had the upper hand, completely refused to get into the truck. Sure I could have grabbed him and forced him, but thought it wiser just to drive off without him and see his reaction to that. Freddie had no problem keeping up, and ran behind us for 15 minutes until we got the the second site. Freddy was so proud of himself and happy that I let him have his way, that he was quite well behaved and good the rest of the trip. Though this site was next to a mountain bikers trail not once did Freddy try to chase the riders, which is good. I'd hate for Freddy to cause a bike accident.

We both liked the wide grassy prairie separating us from the high cliffs to the south, which were more scenic and higher than at the other campsite. The western view was a pretty forest that went uphill in a long but more reasonable incline. The forest was nice to walk in w/o too much underbrush, the quality of the green indicated that water flows through this part of the canyon quite often. I was glad to make the move, even though we lost a bit of solitude. Freddie was respectful to the occasional traveler and that was all I really asked from him.

We jammed again after dark, and it was even more clear and perfect as the first night. No immediate audience, makes me play and sing without holding anything back. And it allows me to take a break between songs, and analyze ways to make the next song more perfect. I may go back to playing bar-rooms again if I can keep this up! Now that Im older I have more patience, and I no longer worry whether people like me or not. It's a nice sort of confidence I must say.

Freddy wakes me again at 7 AM, and costs me 5 hours of needed rest. I tryed to sleep in the hammock, but the swarms of horseflys, and little bees, would not allow me to sleep out side. Inside the camper was too hot, since we were no longer under the trees, so the only alternative was to sit in a chair and attempt to read some more. Turned out we left the campsite after coffee and headed down the cruel trail back home. I tricked Freddy into riding in the cave underneath my bed in the camper, where he rode without freaking for the had drive back home.

we got home around 2 pm, and found that the Green Haired Girl's body was discovered a mile or two from my camp, the Sheriff called the death an obvious suicide. They spotted her dog staying close to the corpse but were unable to catch it. Weird to think a dead body had been rotting there for the past three weeks and I was camped that close to it. Very sad to hear the news and I pray that her family will be alright. Poor kid is all I can say. This weekend we are camping 10 miles away from there because of the ewwwwwwww factor. (The news story: http://hjnews.townnews.com/articles/2009/09/01/news/news02-09-01-09.txt)

August 26th, 2009

Let me introduce myself, I am Al, a 46 year old man who recently moved from central Texas with no real mountains, no wilderness areas; no moose, lions, bears, wolves, ect.. (Snakes, wild hogs, gators, and scorpions I'm used to). I am a big dude 6'3" 280 lbs, and do not like to hike if I can avoid it. I do have wilderness experience at a young age, and learned basic camping skills from the Boy Scouts, and even hiked 50 miles at Philmont many years ago.



Needless to say, I now live close to the Wasatch mountain range in Northern Utah, which is a pretty nice large and little used wilderness area. I can be outside human contact in 20 minutes on my dirt-bike. But it's all foreign and a little scary to me after all these years, after being in the settled world for my entire life. I car camped a couple times in the past two years, but stayed pretty close to the trail head, with other people, and enjoyed it a bit, but my fears of the wild animals (lots of lions in these parts), ruined it for me.

But I persisted, and was resolved to face these fears, so I decided to face them deep in the woods, and face them alone. So last weekend I drove my truck about 10 miles into the mountains solo, and decided to conquer my fears. I was armed with my Aussie Shepherd, my 30-30, and a bottle of Jim Beam: Since the canyon I drove up was fairly rough and lacked water and fishing opps, I had 1000's of acres all to myself.

After a few minutes at the camping spot, the silence and reality of being so far away of civilization hit me. My dog was having a blast, but I must admit that I was wary of every unfamiliar sound. So I started getting into the swing of things, setting up camp, sorting out the stuff I need for the night, hanging up the hammock, building the fire, which did help mellow things out. Then I just chilled out and read a few chapters of a good book (Lonesome Dove), and started to groove with the sounds of the wilderness and watching for mountain lions that were supposed to be all over the steep cliffs and mountaintops that were surrounding me. It was beautiful!

I pulled lightly on the Jim Beam bottle since I didn't want the drink to muddy the grand experience of just chillin' up in the Northern Rockies.

I still remembered my fire starting skills and quickly made a large fire as the paranoia of dusk set in. I remembered all the fire safety lessons taught back in the old scouting day, and settled down to a wonderful night hanging close to the protection of the campfire.

The stars were magnificent as I opened up a can of beans which slowly started bubbling at the edge of the stone fire ring I constructed. Then I realized the potential of getting an unwanted bear visit due to the sweet smell of the cooking beans. After chugging down the beans and sterilizing the can in the fire, I waited near the fire with my lever action 30-30, cradled in my arms for the imagined bears to come try something. After a while, I started feeling silly for being fearful, and leaned the unchambered gun on a nearby tree and reached for the guitar and the whiskey then proceeded to give the wilderness and bears a concert under the stars which lasted for several hours. Once my fingers and voice got tired,I spent another hour watching the millions of stars (dark night/no moon) and started feeling a bit sleepy. So I crawled in the back of my tiny truck camper and slept soundly for the next 7 hours.



Overall the experience was a beautiful reaquaintence with the wilderness, and I fully plan to reaquaint myself every weekend before the snows hit. Camping solo with a dog is the way to go in my book!

Trip Advisor review for the "Waikiki Sand Villa"

After reading some of the mixed reviews of the Sand Villa, I really wasn't sure what to expect. Seemed like most travelers liked the place, and the price was only about $60 per night. After staying there for 14 days, I was most impressed to say the least!

The rooms were a little small but clean and more than adequate, The bed was perfect and sanitary, due to the plastic sheet covering the mattress. I really didn't want to sleep atop ancient body fluids and bed bugs. The sheet was covered by a thick fabric cover and bottom sheet, so I hardly knew it was there. The bathroom was functional as was the TV set, large mini fridge. The dresser was huge and the rest of the furnature and decor were nice as well, the big teakwood mirror was a nice touch. Both sides of the hotel have spectacular views of the Ala Moana Canal, and the golfcourse and mountains beyond. No I coundn't see the ocean, but the view was just fine.. The carpet was older but clean, I spent most of the time barefoot, and it was never an issue. I was on the sixth floor and road noise was never an issue. I read a few negative reviews about the carpet, noise, ect.. but I disagree, I was there for half a month, and the rooms were more than adequate. For the price, it was a downright steal!!! The rooms do have internet, just borrow a cable from the front desk. It's not the fastest, but fine for my purposes, including online phone calls.

When reading other reviews, most people agreed that the location was a good one. I timed the walk to the beach, and it was exactly 7 minutes. If it look 10 minutes or longer for you then, you must be crippled or something. It's central location allows you to walk to anywhere in waikiki in 25 minutes or less. I enjoyed the International Market for a cheap place to eat, and highly recommend "Rainbow Sushi", which makes an excellent Miso soup for only a dollar. I had the 18 piece sushi tray for about $6. The "Haute' "Dog" place had an excellent Chicago dog, with fries and a coke for $7.50. Nearby "Fattys Chinese" was a fun place to eat, where you could watch the cook make your food from 5 feet away.

For finer dining (and reasonable drinks), Duke's Place is my favorite beach bar and restaurant. Their you can buy a nice big sandwich for $8, or a full meal for less than $20, the drink prices were the most reasonable I found right on the water, with gin and tonics (made with the good stuff), for $5.00. There was usually a pleasant local musician with excellent but not overpowering music. What I loved the most about Dukes was the outdoor patio seating, where you could walk 20 feet to the beach, strip off your clothes (you need a swimsuit or shorts of course), and dive in the surf, then return to you seat, and it's all good. The music and tiki torches right on the beach, made for a perfect tranquil night. This is a very classy place, but easygoing and laid back at the same time.

Much of the time I spent my evenings at the hotel pool and hot tub. After a long day of walking thru Waikiki, there is nothing better than to sit in the large and powerful hot tub, which would massage your aches away in no time. I found it to be a good place to meet new friends, since it's hard to sit in a tub without talking to the other guests. This was important to me, since I was alone. I met some very nice people there. The bar was perfect. The lighting was dim enough to be cosy, bright enough to where you could read the menu. The Bar staff were all professional and pleasant, and gave good advice on things to do and see. Wade is the only bartender whose name I can recall, but all the bar staff were first class. The bar's patrons were mainly locals, and talking to them gave me much insight on the "real Waikiki". The food was pretty good with decent prices, and I had nearly everything on the menu, This was a very nice place, and my favorite bar on Waikiki overall. Its was almost too conveniant since I closed the bar down more than a few times.

I really liked the hard working dedicated staff of the Sand Villa, I got to know nearly everyone from the helpful front desk people, to the cleaning crew and the Valets. All were quite helpful and seemed happy with their jobs. Dee and Blaine from the front desk were always happy to help me with new room keys, pool towels, as were the rest of the front desk employees. When waiting for a tour I had some time to get to know the valet man "Bobby", he was very professional, loved his job, and always made sure I got to my tour bus on time. The pool crew and cleaning crew were kind and helpful as well.
My cleaning lady had my room looking perfect every time with a smile.

The Sand Villa is a great place to stay, what a makes a good hotel a great one is the ethos and dedication of the staff. At no point in my 14 nights did any staff member displease me. I will be coming back here next time I stay in Waikiki.

July 30th-31st

Check out time: 11:00 A.M.. Good thing the hotel is willing to store your luggage and allow one to bum around the premisis until airport time. My ground transport wasn't scheduled to pick me up for anothe 8 hours, so I made the best of it. Couldn't really go to the beach, since I had no place to leave the wallet, plus I was still sunburnt.

I found some shade by the pool and lounged for a few hours reading a book about how we are slaves to technology which was interesting, since the author moved to an Amish/Mennonite area, and did the Amish thing for a couple years. He was very impressed with their way of life, but he crapped out in favor for a low tech lifestyle in a reclaimed neighborhood near down town St. Louis. The guy was sort of flaky, but I commend him for his efforts to live with the Amish. His writing was pretty decent and I agree with the simplicity thing overall. But someone with a full time job, does have need for modern conveiniences. I find that living close to work and shopping makes for a nicer life. I still someday, want to return to the land and live w/o electricity, grow some of my own food, but motorized transportation of some sort would be necessary. Who knows? Hawaii would be a nice place to live like that.

Then I wandered Waikiki afoot for the last time, and had a bowl of "Pho" (soup) at a Vietnamese stall in the marketplace, under the shade of a huge Banyon tree, it was lovely. "Pho" is a giant bowl of soup with noodles and other strange stuff, and is pretty good, but Miso is still my favorite. Stopped at the ABC store to get Logan a T-shirt and went back to the hotel for a swim. By then is was 4:00 P.M. so I took a swim to cool off and sanitize for the long airline ordeal ahead. Had a beer at the hotel bar afterward, said goodbye to all my local friends, then was picked up by an impatient young Japanese/Hawaiian hybrid, for a very unrelaxed (and scary) drive to the airport.

The Delta terminal was a clusterfuck, but after standing in a few non-moving lines, with screaming babies and impatient people, I started losing the Hawaiian laid back outlook that I have gained in the past two weeks. Still made it to the gate with an hour to spare, and drank another beer and had a great conversation with the waiter, who seemed eager to "talk story" with me for an hour or so. "Talk story" is a Pidgin way to say "shoot the breeze" or something. In Texas, we say "Shoot the shit", whatever the hell that means. We discuss the finer points of surfing, and shark attacks, life on the Western shore, teaching, and other stuff. Then I had to pay the tab and enter the tomb of death for the next 5 hours.

Of course I had a middle seat in a packed 757; and to make matters worse, I was squashed between two very fat women. The blubberfest was unbearable to all of us, but since both were nice and polite ladies, we made the best of the situation. The largest of them was squashed against the window, and my shoulders and hips were smashed againist her commodius posterior and ample midsection. The one on the right was a sweet but big boned old lady from Minnisota who was 6 feet tall with an ass the size of my own. Then the guy in front of me was a "seat recliner" which made for a night mare of claustrophobic hell. I asked to stewardess for help, but the plane was nearly full, and she didn't "nearly" give a shit. Obese people are the most discriminated group in the country today. Had I arrived in a wheel chair, I would have got first class treatment, but throwing three big people in the same row, was our own fault for being big. I finally got up and sat in the restroom for 20 minutes to take a break. When I returned the sweet older lady, switched seats with me and I hung over the aisle, which made our situation much nicer. Both ladies were very pleasant thoughout the ordeal, but next time, I will reserve an Aisle seat, no matter what the price.

The rest of the trip went smooth and uneventful, which was nice for a change. The Mormon looking lady sitting beside me on the Portland to Salt Lake run, turned out to be a lesbian, and very anti-Mormon, but was funny and fun to talk to. I didn't agree with anything she said, but her humor made it fun. The ground transport was in better repair on the way back, and took me straight home, without criss crossing Utah, and taking 3 hours.

My son seemed the same as when I left, but Freddy the wonderdog was so happy to see me, I have never seen a dog act as thrilled as he was when I got home! Almost like having happy little kids around the house again. I slept most of the day, with Freddy one inch away from me the entire time. As much as they shed, Australian Shepherds fit me perfectly for a dog companion. I wouldn't trade him for the world.

Time it took to travel from my hotel in Hawaii to my home in Utah?.... Only about 13 hours.

July 29th, 2009

Last night on Oahu. Finally took an Oahu tour and saw the North Shore, where the crazy surfers try the big Alaskan born waves during January and February. Looked like a beach, nothing more; we were told to imagine how "it might look" during those months.... but none of us "Tourons" were impressed. It was a cool trip though, allowing one to see some of the wildlife, and topography of most of the Island. I really liked hanging out in the "North Shore", in the surfing mecca town of Hale'iwa. This is the biggest town on the North Shore, and is a direct contrast to Waikiki. It was a laid back town full of surfers, and the businesses they prey on the commerce, that world class surfing brings. None of that "Waikiki sparkle"could be found there, just a town of a few thousand surrounded by sparsely populated beaches with a mere farm road, called a "highway", which links the rest of Oahu to the great Honolulu metro area.

We saw the rain forests on the "Eastern Shore", which were beautiful, but the "Byodo-In Buddhist temple", was the most spectacular place I've witnessed since I've been on the island. Being a life long student of Buddhism, this place was truly special. Inside (remember to remove shoes), was a 20 foot copper statue of Guatama Buddha, with the great bronze bell and ringing log, situated farther outside the Temple, amongst beautiful gardens and koi ponds. When someone would ring the bell (I rang it!), a soft clear "Ommmm" sound, could be heard with the sounds of birds and the universe. I did the full spiritual insence lighting thing, similar to what is done at the Cathedrals I've been in. Cathedrals feel just as holy, but nothing as beautiful as this temple compound was. This is the first Buddhist temple I've ever been to, and certainly will not be the last. The vibes were indescribable. Sometimes one needs to just chill and contemplate their existance, no matter what their beliefs are. This place really appealed to me as a place to do that.

We also saw a dead looking sea turtle basking on the beach, with a red rope cordoned around it, and 50 tourists snapping pictures at it. The turtle looked dead, but didn't seem to notice the crowd. The guide said that often, there are many more laying around that place, instead of one turtle; they were not captive at all, but totally wild.

On the way back to Waikiki, we drove thru pineapple fields, coffee fields, saw Pearl Harbor from a distance, and traveled thru the main city of Honolulu from West to East, including Chinatown, the Hawaiian Royal Palace, and the Statue of King Kamehameha. All of these I was planning to see tomorrow, but now I won't have to! As many of you know, the only two states that were once Independent Countries, were Texas, and Hawaii. In 1893; a few sugar barons, with US backing, held the Queen of Hawaii at gunpoint, and made her sign the treaty which gave her country to the US. Imagine that???? Hawaii was an independent country for over 80 years before this. Hate to bring up ugly facts, but I find it important to educate people, so history never repeats itself.

Once home, I did my nightly baptism in the "wonder jacuzzi" (I hope I can find a way to live without it), then ordered dinner and spent some time discussing Hawaii with my favorite waitress, who is a native of "Hilo" from the Big Island. Cheap land can still be found near Hilo, and I would love nothing more than to retire on a couple acres, with a garden and some chickens, in a place where I could swim in the sea to my hearts content. But I am probably just dreaming.
I would never dream of a place and actually make the move to live there someday .

As a student of the world, and of different people and other cultures, one can get bored once, everything there is to know about a place is reached. I love learning about different lands and cultures, and Hawaii has the best of it all. While some think of New York City, as the ultimate "Melting Pot", the different races are still mainly segregated in NYC by choice. In Hawaii, many are nearly mixed together. Few purebred "Native Hawaiians" exist anymore. They are a mixture of Hawaiian, European, Black, Chinese, Japanese, Filapino, and many other races. Generally, you have little idea as to their ancestry. The locals, whom I've spent some time getting to know, speak a version of all the languages above... known as "Pidgin", which is very hard to understand, but they keep it simple just for me... Ever seen the movie "Blade Runner" with Harrison Ford from the early 80's? The film-maker's version of future America, was a place similar to this. In fact: It was exactly like this. This is nice because I see very little racism here in Hawaii. Hawaii is a breath of fresh air from what I've experienced my entire life in the mainland. Even in the near perfect place I presently live, there are huge undertones of racism. I have seen very little of it here, and I spent most of my time, meeting and talking to the local folks like I always seem to do, no matter where I am. Societies and cultures have always fascinated me, and Oahu is the most interesting place I've been.

July 27th, 2009

I guess I lied to you in my previous post. I planned to get a good nights sleep, but went to the hotel bar for happy hour, which begins at 11:00 PM. I did get an hours sleep or so. I wound up staying there talking politics with some locals for 5 hours and only had a beer per hour, and headed home at 4:00 A.M. Once home I had a few tequila shots, and went to bed for about an hour: I had a dream that I was surfing the big Hawaiian waves, and jumped up at 6 A.M., put on my swim gear, and headed toward the beach! I was feeling fine, energetic, confident, and rented a surfboard for about 10 bucks. Never have I rented one of these, but studied the procedure, hitched up my ankle leash, and paddled on my belly about 1/4 miles out to sea and gathered with all the other surfers and surfer wannabe's like yours truly.
Once with my new surf colleagues, we waited and waited and waited and waited.......;for many minutes, until I heard someone whistle, and a very hot 6 foot wave came barreling our way! I took off like a whore on dime night, and caught the wave perfectly on my belly and rode the bastard for many many seconds! Gawd! It was FUN! :Then I tryed to push up and stand and wound up in some sort of powerful washing machine with my head and other parts scuttled and bounced violently along the bottom of the ocean. I rested a minute, then got back on and spent 5 minutes paddling back to the starting place. By then I was tired and beaten up. Hey! I was the idiot who decided to do this in a semi drunken state. I got exactly the Karma that I had deserved. No more no less, I wouldn't have it any other way...lol!

I tried a few more times but got the living shit beat out of me, so I returned the surfboard, and limped my broken, burnt, sore, tired, arse back to the hotel.. Upon the return, I showered, picked the coral out of my bruises, and slept for the next 11 hours.


Re-awoke (is this a real word?), at 7 PM, checked on my Myspace account, talked to a few fellow Mobsters, then took off to a famous hole in the Allie called "Fatty's Chinese"; Fatty's is a long time Waikiki institution, that is tiny, ghetto, and you get to watch the cook. The full stove and sink complex is about 9 feet long, with chopped ingredients, sitting upon a dirty pot, atop a nasty sink full of dirty pots and pans. Hey, Fatty needs more counter space so he makes due. The locals all flock here, as do the tourists. I could put "Fattys in a 35 foot Airstream trailer. But the nastyness was a shock to me at first, but since I saw the cook, stir-frying my dish "Malay style" (the menu was mostly in Chinese so I had no idea what meat was in it), I noted how hot the substances became, and was satisfied the the dish was going to be sterile.

When I got to my spot at the serving bar, there were chop sticks at my place, while sitting there and talking to the black dude next to me, the chop sticks disappeared and a fork showed up. I was not about to eat my Chinese Noodle crap with a shovel or pitchfork, so I asked the lady for some chop sticks, while insinuating that she was guilty of "Racial Profiling"! Actually, I was nice and subtle about it, but I did let her know that this White guy likes to eat with chop sticks, and get that farm implement off my table. The black dude looked at me and gave a shit-eating "now you know what we go thru" grin. The food was greasy and marginal, since they use powdered garlic and ginger; the sweet/ sour balance was bland, but after a bit of Vietnamese Rooster sauce, and a bit of soy, the stuff was alright. I like eating noodles with chopsticks way more than rice. After years of quaffing down mass quantities of rice, I have become a noodle man. And Malay noodles are up there but not as high as the Thai "Pad kee Mow" horizon.

Fatty's is ok but not as fresh as I like. Sitting in the tiny hole in the wall, with many happy customers, and getting to watch the stir fry lesson, makes it a place that all Waikiki visitors must go. I plan to return before I leave.

Came back and spent 20 minutes at the pool and needed the Jacuzzi (which I never shut up about), but immersing in water many times a day is what I do. If I was a dog, I would be a labrador. I have three sets of clothing drying out in my room on a continual basis. Salt water is the nicest, spa water is like raw sewage at the end of the day. Think?: 100 people or more jump in the same 500 gallons of water, how many gallons of piss and sunscreen is that? The suds on the surface are not soap, trust me on this one. The giant pool is chlorine land, so I sanitize myself in the pool after being in the jacuzzi.

Then I went to my room like a good boy and started writing this page, it is now 11:46 PM and I plan to take an island tour tomorrow and detox for a while.

Saturday and Sunday July 25 and 26th, 2009

(the boat pic was not the one we were on, but shows how the position can lean when too much sail is up, we were actually leaned about 5 degrees further down much of the time).

Great days. Early Saturday was a bit slow, since I celebrated the night before and didn't go to bed till 5:00 AM on Saturday. Around 3:00PM Saturday I woke up and did some laundry in the hotel and caught up with things on the internet, while using my radio here for the first time. Honolulu radio is about like Utah's in it's lame-ness, but I found an interesting station. I love listening to local news and radio, wherever I happen to be. At 6:00 PM, I headed down to "DUKES", in order to go on the 1 1/2 hour "drinking cruise" on a very large yellow catamaran sailboat. I have been a sailboat enthusiast in a past life down in Port Lavaca, Texas, and having been ocean sailing in over 12 years (I have done some bay and lake sailing in the past 3 years), but I love to sail! Got to Duke's and watched the sailboat full of happy people, head off into the lovely Hawaiian late afternoon. So I bought a Gin and Tonic (my favorite mixed drink), and sat on the beach and watched the sun slowly head towards the horizon.

Feeling a little lonely, I started down the beach for another beach bar, and found some rich hotel beach bar, that charged 8 dollars (3 more than Dukes), for the same drink, and spent an hour 70 feet from the waves, with a bunch of over dressed, over fed, starched rich mummies, who where clearly having no fun at all. Not one of them stripped off their clothes and jumped into the water! At "Dukes", which is a high class place as well; sports a much happier crowd an the occasional patron jumps in the water to cool off, then returns to their table. The music there is nice, and the vibe is free and easy. Many classy people there, since Dukes is a three star restaurant and bar. I just like to be outside and jump in the surf, even if it's at night!

After the "morgue" I moved back toward my Hotel, which is three blocks off the surf, and saw an underground bar on a side street called "Nashville", I was attracted by the "3 dollar well drinks offer" but was actually looking for some food. The place was very nice, with only a few patrons, and a TRIVIA MACHINE! to keep me company. I drank an awful syrupy Mai Tai, and bought a tuna salad sandwich was was huge for 7 bucks, then proceeded to attack the trivia machine. After a few plays, I managed to be permanently ensconced with one of the top ten scores, and beat out a score that has been standing for 9 months! I know my history and geography quite well. And the machine was used for 100 times a day for 9 months. My Ego was feeling good. Then I met a Hapa (half Hawaiian, half honky) dude named Ron Van Cleef.
Ron is a typical barfly, full of shit and unhappy in life. But he was decent enough, and I was feeling lonely, and when he said "I have a crewmember opening for a yachtrace tomorrow", I just had to say "HELL YEAH" I'll go! Then he showed me to about 5 more bars, including "Dukes", where I had a midnight swim in the Pacific, before leading me thru the international Marketplace to get his ancient Yamaha motorscooter. Ron is an ex-military character, whose parents moved to some acreage near San Antonio, and talks about nothing but all the chicks he gets. I didn't really trust him, but it was nice to have a local show me around to all the Waikiki spots that I haven't been. Besides: What can this old little man do to me, I wasn't born yesterday: And I really wanted to go yachting again!

He hands me his scooter and I drove it 6 or 7 blocks thru busy Waikiki, with a solid buzz and no fears whatsoever. I circled my hotel a few times then landed, and headed straight to the hotel bar, where my bartender friend "Wade" cautioned me against driving mopeds while under the enfluence. Ron tells me "cops don't really care" and Wade tells me "cops will bust your ass for this", so I wisely will take Wades advice. I conclude that "Ron" is a bit of a douche.

Ron calls me at 10 AM and we head up the the yacht harbor, where he introduces me to Captain Dennis. Dennis is an older poor mainlander who has a large 34 foot yacht, that looks to be an old tub. I had a few reservations about going out into the high winds of the Pacific ocean with Dennis, but as the other crew showed up, I gained some faith as him as a Captain. I could see their dedication, and that they apparently trusted Captain Dennis.

(When you accept a crew position on any yacht you have to know what you are doing. The boat going out in the ocean is under the legal command of the Captain. If the captain is an idiot, he could easily get you killed. No shit! Dennis's boat was from the sixties and needed a few things. But after looking at the rigging and sails, I felt like the boat was sound. But is the captain sound? It's tough to tell until the boat is heeled over, with stuck sails, or whatever, and he is unable to give an intelligent command; So YOUR dead!!! Imagine being 4 miles from the island and the boat gets knocked down due to your Captains' mistakes. You fall in the ocean, with no lifeline (most yachts dont use them), and they will not be able to find your shark bait ass! Once they spend 10 minutes trying to get back to you, your small head will be impossible to find unless the boat gets lucky and finds your position within 100 yards. IF YOU FALL IN THE WATER TOO FAR FROM SHORE.....YOUR USUALLY DEAD. "

Ok, I determined that the rigging and sails/hull were good. I forget about checking the two way radio, but the boat did have an excessable, throwable life raft/Epirb (locating signal). I was good to go; mainly, because the 5 passenger crew trusted him, I wasn't impressed by him at all. Oh yeah, his engine had issues, but what sailboat doesn't have engine probs? I was to be in charge of controlling the Main sail. Sounds important, but it really is the least technical job of Yacht racing. When the Capo orders "tighten the sail", I do it. Or "release sail", "tacking", "jybing", and so forth. At times; when the boat is leaning at an 85 degree angle, and the crew was about to be spilled into the sea, I would just give the sail some slack w/o being told. Captain Dennis, like to push the old tub to it's outer limits it seemed. But he never bitched when I would slack the sail a little. He knew I was a sailer, but his ego never wanted to say "ease off".

We left the Port of Honolulu, around Noon, and headed out to sea on a "three hour tour", the weather was very windy but controllable. 25 knot winds are nothing to sneeze at. My privious Capitan named "Capitain Jaques" was an old wise Frenchman, who allowed me to crew on his 47 foot old wooden boat from Port Lavaca, Texas, to Sabine Pass, on the Texas/Louisiana border. We went 100 miles out into the Gulf of Mexico, and spent 2 1/2 days and nights to get there. "Jaques" was much more easy going, and kept the jib and mailsls' reefed down, to prevent excessive lean and excessive strain on his rigging. Capitain "Dennis" was a racer, and pushed his boat to the limits, using a full main/jib configuration, so the ride was a total bitch! Healed over with the mast near the water, and shit smashing around in the cabin, as the wind shoveled us atop the whitecapped waves, was not a joy ride. But Dennis was racing. Funny: Capo Jacques boat had a hull speed of 4 knots while riding nice and serene, and "Speed Racer Dennis" was only going about 6 knots. WTF? With Jacques 2 1/2 days was a pleasant ride. With "Dennis" 3 hours was a balls to the wall, scary experience, where some of his crew were tossing their cookies, into the Pacific Ocean. My cookies stayed in my belly fortunately...hehe. Captain Dennis was a good Captain overall. He was just one of many sailboat racing dudes who likes to push the limits in order to gain a little more speed. We just have different philosophies about sailing. He was the Captain, he kept calm the entire time, never raised his voice, and knew how to sail. Dennis was a perfectly adequate Captain, my only critisism, was that when one of his friends; a younger lady crewmember who became sick and threw up over the stern port leeward side: Dennis just made a light joke out of it "haha now we know we are sailing!" was all the comfort he had to give. He really should have eased the sails, or just motored in, rather than continue to same grueling pace for the next 90 minutes, while this girl was in misery. We really were not in a race, and just doing time trials afterall.
But I'm damned glad I went! Had the best time on this trip so far. Seeing the Waikiki coast and Diamond Head from 5 miles out while leaning and bucking the wild waves at a scary pitch is a thrill that will last me a lifetime! And when I return, Dennis says I always got a crew position on his boat. Not sure if I want it, but he did at least recognise my sailing abilities, as I recognise his Captain skills. There is way more to Yachting than having martinis at the club, I assure you.


After that, I was beat and completely sunburnt. Van Cleef and I took a cab to Dukes (the Cleef stiffed me on another cab ride as he does on many bartabs, I don't pay the entire tab, just 65 percent or more...this guy is a piece of work). We were both up late the night before and he suggests us go sleep in the sand while listening to the Sunday Band at Dukes. By then I was sunburnt and tired, and just wanted a swim and a return to my hotel room, while not being around this leech any more. So we laid our beach mats down, I went swimming and body surfing. I came back, Cleef was totally asleep, (he did drink 9 beers on the trip), I snagged my mat, and stuff, and went to the International Market and had a Chicago Dog with fries, knowing that the leech would be pissed, but let him find another friend. I enjoyed the Sailing, but he trashed Dennis pretty bad after we left. Dennis was the good guy, not sure about the Cleefster.

Went to the hotel room, showered, put on lotion (damn I am burned, my sunglass marks make me look like a raccon (the Japanese bellhop told me this), and I slathered on some lotion but the burns arent to severe.......maybe. Woke at 8:00PM to do the jacuzzi thing, and floated in the pool for awhile. Checked my internet for a while, and now going to sleep while planning for adventures in the morning (that dont involve the sun).... Night all!

Friday, July 24th, 2009

(picture is the Loco Moco I had for dinner)



Up at 8:00 A.M. and ready to go. I found a fancy hotel called "Ohana (means "Family"), that served a nice breakfast with eggs, bacon, and pancakes for only $3.75...Nice! I had that with some good "Kona" coffee, and poured coconut syrup (excellent!) all over the substantial pancakes. Total for the exquisite meal at a very nice place???? Five dollars and twenty cents plus a two dollar tip.

Hawaii is cheap...... people! My highrise hotel is only sixty dollars a night and is in a great location. Sure the rooms are smallish and aged, but the pool is gorgegous and the bar is perfect. This is a high quality establishment, and I will come again and again. The transport is cheap, no need for a rent a car, you can taxi around Waikiki for 5 - 6 dollars a trip. Or walk it and lose some of that blubber! "The Bus" can take you all over the island for two dollars it you take the time to read the schedule. Snorkeling is free once you buy a mask and fins from the ABC store. Liquor is cheaper here than in Texas. Drinks at the Lava room are only 3 dollars as in our hotel bar during "happy hour". I'm here for two weeks and the hotel and airfare is $1600 for only one person. If I had a roomy if would be $1100.

There is so much to learn here. Not only the rich local history, but you are immersed in various cultures, and they all seem to get along while thoroughly enjoying themselves. The ocean is nearly perfect, and the plant and animal life is fascinating to say the least. The ocean life is just as incredible. I truly love this place.

Today, I took a $15 tour to nearby Hanauma Bay, which is situated in an old volcanic crater. Met up with a very nice couple in their 30's and we hit it off right away. We all dove together and saw many different examples of fish, inverts, corals, and were fortunate enough to have cloudy skies so the blazing sun on our backs wasn;t a problem at all. I made sure I left my silver chain (my bling) and my money/hotel card in the ladies handbag. After walking a half mile uphill to the lip of the crater, we had to hike down hill to the beach for another half mile. I was tired by the time I got there but soon the cool water revived me and we swam with fins for two hours. When we took a rest we had very good conversations, since they were both in the educational field. We unfortunately got separated and had to take different shuttles, when I noticed my money, key, and bling..... were still in this ladies bag. I only knew them by first names, but realized my hotel key would allow them to find me. Two hours after I returned, they showed up with my things, but I was never worried about it whatsoever.

I was beat so I decided to have the local Hawaiian favorite called: "Moco Loco"; which is a large beef patty, served over a pile of rice with a mushroom and onion gravy and topped with a fried egg. Healthy Eh'? But in a hard workin' day like today, the combination really hit the spot. Which brings the question to mind: Damn these Hawaiians seem to only eat meat and starch. Very few veggies or even fish. They also eat a shit load of SPAM, which is usually a feature in most of the local restaurants. No wonder why many of them weigh 4 or 500 pounds. I have seen some rather big strapping natives around here. I like it! I feel as slender as I ever have hanging around some of these people. But why do they not eat much fish? I read a Paul Therox book, a famous National Geographic contributer and he asks the same thing? He rode around many of the Polynesian Islands, and wondered why they ate little seafood? They mo'w down on main pork (Kalua Pig) and Spam, but little seafood; although it is quite abundant in these climes. Hummmmmmmnnnnn, I do not understand these people to well, but I have the utmost respect for a race of stone aged people that could build boats, stock them with plants, animals, food and water for a couple months, then head out over the horizon looking for other islands, and then finding them. The distance between the islands they originally came from and Hawaii is several thousand miles. More than Columbus's short journey by comparison. Facsinating, I must say. Incredible, I will have to add.

After the giant plate of WTF?, I hit the spa for quite a while before returning to my room at nine O'clock. Now I'm tired and will get another early nights sleep. I want to see some more of the island in the morning. Mahalo my brothers and sisters if you made it thru all this writing.

Al

Thursday, July 23rd, 2009

11 AM: Knock Knock! I offered
the two crazy bastards a place to rest while they waiting till 4:30 to go to the airport. The bottom picture was taken at 12:00 noon. The top one was taken at 4:00 PM, when they were ready to go. They are heading to Cabo San Lucas, then onward to Las Vegas! I will miss the fun. Chipper is the one closest to the TV.

I didn't do too much today. I slept till 1:00 PM, and hung out by the pool while Ramsey and Chipper, slept off their debauchery from the previous night. After they left, I took a nap and went to the hot tub and hung around a Canadian couple until 9:00 PM (when the damn pool closes WTF?). Then spent a couple hours catching up on my writing. Tomorrow I plan to wake up early so I can do an island tour of some sort (I've been here for a week and haven't even left Waikiki..). But if the surf is still up I want to try surfing instead, my legs feel very strong and are no longer sore. The surf was only 2 - 3 feet for the first 4 days I was here, yesterday it was 8 feet, but I never made it to the beach today so I better do a weather check. Small surf = Snorkeling. Big surf = Surfing. Maybe I'll do the tour later. Night all...