tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84160883675396647942024-03-14T05:46:39.357-07:00Hummingbird HouseTravel blog about California's Central Coast region.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-34530462047837515612011-07-23T06:50:00.000-07:002011-07-23T07:55:05.743-07:00Lake Lopez<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: left;">The thing I really love about living here is that every moment you are not actually working, you feel like you are on vacation. At least, I do.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Part of the reason for this is probably the climate, which still feels new and exotic to me after decades on the East coast and in Colorado. I'm accustomed to living near agricultural centers, but not like this. I'm still delighted every time I see oranges and lemons growing in someone's yard. K and I pulled over on the side of the road the other day to admire an entire field that had been planted with asparagus. That's not something you see in Denver or Hagerstown! And what are these beautiful purple thistles in our neighbors' garden? Oh, those are artichokes!<br /></div><br /></div><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ozwE04NC5ZK-bz-u12zL5Ii1h7MdWnuw_QH0x8qfW1aUXoyeJDe2H9b1joC7r7p6KGHaW2gGrPSw-l38gvi8mRJ0gBnc-H-128defs753hAcWfNhVXT-CdYmVpCMAcFqi8tc3ek42WaW/s1600/IMG_5204.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ozwE04NC5ZK-bz-u12zL5Ii1h7MdWnuw_QH0x8qfW1aUXoyeJDe2H9b1joC7r7p6KGHaW2gGrPSw-l38gvi8mRJ0gBnc-H-128defs753hAcWfNhVXT-CdYmVpCMAcFqi8tc3ek42WaW/s400/IMG_5204.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br />Living here, you are surrounded by green things growing (and purple and pink and blue things too.) But the thing I love best about our home county doesn't have any color at all. Can you guess what it is? It's the water!<br /><br />It's everywhere! Lakes and rivers, beaches and bay...there are so many inviting ways to spend our off hours...in it, on it, even eating things that came out of it.<br /><br />We are in the habit now of just leaving all our canoe gear in the back of the van, so it's easy to just hop in and go for a boat ride.<br /><br />Last weekend we visited Lopez Lake. Of course, I love the ocean, but sometimes we just need a break from the summer fog. Before I moved here, I was always confused by that one line in the song "Lady is a Tramp." She "hates California?" "It's cold and it's damp?" LA always looked sunny and warm in the movies. What was Ella Fitzgerald talking about? Apparently, she was talking about Los Osos and all the other coastal towns between Santa Barbara and Monterey.<br /><br />Maybe she didn't know about our inland lakes. Even on our foggiest, dampest, coolest days, there is a sunny wonderland hidden behind the hills, just a few miles to the East. Last Saturday, we found it up at Lopez Lake.<br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpbnQq5uCMX7Xg9AZCwUKEUIHeMWfCOTM9-ok3i4LFLav0IBTLytW-O7bFXplmEC_iAFvdll0y-wpbveq-zkOMnpEobtlHNPveWyNt_XISQb6q9C3nGPhG1f5xekpRosCTv_7f17l89IJ/s1600/IMG_5064.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpbnQq5uCMX7Xg9AZCwUKEUIHeMWfCOTM9-ok3i4LFLav0IBTLytW-O7bFXplmEC_iAFvdll0y-wpbveq-zkOMnpEobtlHNPveWyNt_XISQb6q9C3nGPhG1f5xekpRosCTv_7f17l89IJ/s400/IMG_5064.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br />It was beautiful and sunny. And it's super easy to put the canoe in, because of the nice little shaded path that goes directly from the parking lot to the water. But, as you can see, it's a motor-boat kind of place. We had a nice time paddling around and exploring the quieter inlets, but as soon as we entered the main section of the lake, it was too loud with too much wake; not the relaxing experience we'd hoped for.<br /><br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxp4qZL1wBOahOicISfLwYbeQgmxbC7HDgrc5uDAJaSO6_0XeOvOwU7i8AqDu6_797XCjOyjnoT8TGxEDCDEcdMh4xQrjQlJGb56sLQL8RsRmi0hQv0Wk_KcykLakX9aVL8f6MQfPwBANR/s1600/IMG_5103.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxp4qZL1wBOahOicISfLwYbeQgmxbC7HDgrc5uDAJaSO6_0XeOvOwU7i8AqDu6_797XCjOyjnoT8TGxEDCDEcdMh4xQrjQlJGb56sLQL8RsRmi0hQv0Wk_KcykLakX9aVL8f6MQfPwBANR/s400/IMG_5103.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br />To get there, you have to drive on a bridge that spans a narrow section of the lake. The most exciting part of our visit was floating under that bridge. The whole place was abuzz with swallows dipping and diving all around us.<br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZ_liVDBUrvBNDjE7v5FLpqH-xdJOy942o1ryD88YBhL_2ouOAcVouiLZXpvqIsorbrag5DI_MWdl_0tfs3WjIoIciUPOUk7NRbEa7k383fQv-Y76L130WC909UlcKX3o5UVZB32WfzLf/s1600/IMG_5078.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZ_liVDBUrvBNDjE7v5FLpqH-xdJOy942o1ryD88YBhL_2ouOAcVouiLZXpvqIsorbrag5DI_MWdl_0tfs3WjIoIciUPOUk7NRbEa7k383fQv-Y76L130WC909UlcKX3o5UVZB32WfzLf/s400/IMG_5078.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br />The birds wouldn't hold still for a photo, but we did get shots of their mud-sculpture nests. Aren't they amazing? I wouldn't know how to build one of these, would you? How do the Swallows know?<br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfeUuaxK1LTwP1hM-MDZ0g1pAphtVOnrbXAiXrg6kU_UgJjyNxL54QP2UCQN-xVl6n-DPv1JpnXy1tWYl_6VIdGlBn3aEMpAkogLNM-mRedw2UKz-gXhlIN2MO2U4TPYEL6snNHyHgdMzf/s1600/IMG_5089.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfeUuaxK1LTwP1hM-MDZ0g1pAphtVOnrbXAiXrg6kU_UgJjyNxL54QP2UCQN-xVl6n-DPv1JpnXy1tWYl_6VIdGlBn3aEMpAkogLNM-mRedw2UKz-gXhlIN2MO2U4TPYEL6snNHyHgdMzf/s400/IMG_5089.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br />We also saw dozens of wind-surfers speeding around each other. At first I assumed that they have them for rent at the lake. But they were all going SO fast, I started to think it must be a race. I meant to ask about it at the gate on our way out, but I forgot because we were too busy telling the park ranger about the campers who were feeding Doritos to the wild-life. Poor dears.<br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7aPu7BHygFShyphenhyphenafwBSSyGdUXyQHaxOe3mJ2xcF8L5MggaqhOm8BJNi3ps3w1g9xuZiyzF9D29umChVOHZmWOBGk145anUR71lBj3XWRoHyJ_801u8dzdx05rZPVMmp_snvSs5djh7TTP/s1600/IMG_5094.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7aPu7BHygFShyphenhyphenafwBSSyGdUXyQHaxOe3mJ2xcF8L5MggaqhOm8BJNi3ps3w1g9xuZiyzF9D29umChVOHZmWOBGk145anUR71lBj3XWRoHyJ_801u8dzdx05rZPVMmp_snvSs5djh7TTP/s400/IMG_5094.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br />There is also a giant water slide park at Lopez Lake. And, a number of interesting trails to explore. So, we will absolutely go up there again. We just won't go up for a day of boating...not unless we buy a speed boat and one of those big floating things on a rope that people use to drag their kids along behind them. That does sound like fun. But, I don't think our "kid" would like it.<br /><br />Would you, Piper?<br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQw6Yvfm1hgqcPrpaxXLnF2KcQksGJyf9oYwkHQ_tGUkxYMgf2UUpCLC-MrwmuoE7pLyG3YwXYk4czqj9_RGnVYHJelIvQF998z3XVOFn8cZ-dkkYMPFLMPcliNIwiiHtHXUQ0AdHy5aBa/s1600/IMG_5075.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQw6Yvfm1hgqcPrpaxXLnF2KcQksGJyf9oYwkHQ_tGUkxYMgf2UUpCLC-MrwmuoE7pLyG3YwXYk4czqj9_RGnVYHJelIvQF998z3XVOFn8cZ-dkkYMPFLMPcliNIwiiHtHXUQ0AdHy5aBa/s400/IMG_5075.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><br /></a></div>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-56087559010893658252011-07-16T07:36:00.000-07:002011-08-20T10:14:36.417-07:00What? SUP!<div style="text-align: left; margin: 0px auto 10px;">They weren't here when I left the Central Coast in 2008, at least not in large numbers. Sure, you might have seen one once in a while, drifting eerily upright along the rippling skin of the water. But now, it seems like they are everywhere...meandering amidst the field of moored boats in front of the Morro Bay Yacht Club...scooting between the wet-suited surfers in the waves that curl around The Rock...cruising the Back Bay in pairs and pods, oblivious to the leopard sharks that swarm and breed just under the surface.
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<br />It's a new decade now, and a new water sport has come into it's own. Apparently, Stand Up Paddleboarding is here to stay.
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<br />I had never done it and neither had K. Of course we had to try it! So when D and E visited on 4th of July weekend, the four of us headed over to Central Coast Stand Up Paddling, which is easy to find on the Embarcadero, right across the street from Golden China.
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<br />It looks impossible. Can you imagine standing up on a board that is just floating in the water? Neither could I. But they say, "If you can stand up, you can do it."
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<br />(I took issue with this. There are plenty of people who have missing or otherwise impaired arms. I suggested a better saying might be, "If you can sweep the floor, you can stand-up paddle." But this got us off on a tangent about who sweeps the floor at home and why can't the other person seem to do it? Not a great advertising tactic. So, I'll let them keep their motto.)
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<br />They start you out on your knees. It's surprisingly easy to balance.
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<br />They give you a funny long paddle that looks like a duck's foot at the bottom. You have to hold it backwards. At least, the way you think it ought to be held is exactly opposite of how it works.
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<br />They watch you paddle around on your knees for a minute, and once the look of confused anxiety leaves your face, they encourage you to stand up. Suddenly, you're paddle boarding!
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<br />Before you know it, you're standing perfectly upright, and perfectly dry, in the middle of the bay, with nothing but a couple of inches of foam between you and all that cold, salty water. It's an amazing feeling.
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<br />It is so easy, and the folks at the rental place are so agreeable, that soon you'll be out paddling with your best friend right there on the board in front of you... if your best friend has a life jacket of her own, and is well trained to "Sit" and "Stay."
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<br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2KrnoOWn619TbC61sdLqXfD3Z3GY6z0LFfPYVHCWxIsONmr4j-A1aoXrkLPfRjM9ldh8VSQ-cwGi4p9yQq7mbQ5WKnIN5mPSk6-mFAiuGyMUAshG8hCjRr1L9a6EJsyqad-oQucRfYXqc/s1600/IMG_4874.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2KrnoOWn619TbC61sdLqXfD3Z3GY6z0LFfPYVHCWxIsONmr4j-A1aoXrkLPfRjM9ldh8VSQ-cwGi4p9yQq7mbQ5WKnIN5mPSk6-mFAiuGyMUAshG8hCjRr1L9a6EJsyqad-oQucRfYXqc/s400/IMG_4874.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div>
<br />Be careful or you will soon fall victim to delusions of grandeur. It's easy to feel like some kind of fabled saint or miracle machine. The sensation is really similar to what it must be like to walk on water.
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<br />It's not like kayaking, where you're sitting down in the boat, working your arms and shoulders to carry your otherwise inert body through the water. It's not like surfing, where you depend on the ocean's own crashing velocity to propel you into a balanced position. It's really not like anything other than just taking a stroll around your neighborhood park.
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<br />Except, now your "neighborhood" is the collection of pleasure crafts and live-a-boards that populate our local waterways.
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<br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcPndqpZdOPWCIM3XTDTc_hW_17aDPDqgWQGaJyPxPTU_aF85Lphws9w_D0Ye8sTaxPeLwsJJzTfI0jal6aGtJkAYYLbOIANbJv7PvKN07XBLCsoXiv0Q_Oq_OzrY5cP9fN3tlpEMLwKw/s1600/IMG_4902.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcPndqpZdOPWCIM3XTDTc_hW_17aDPDqgWQGaJyPxPTU_aF85Lphws9w_D0Ye8sTaxPeLwsJJzTfI0jal6aGtJkAYYLbOIANbJv7PvKN07XBLCsoXiv0Q_Oq_OzrY5cP9fN3tlpEMLwKw/s400/IMG_4902.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div>
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<br />And your "park" is the quiet, gently rising water that hugs the lonely dunes while the tide pours in from the ocean.
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<br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8NrmOgIguYe04Wd691wl5Sxt_mImescueBepmKaQZfHAin4qxIL11DYWup9CMHLnAcuUTgAju6FEW-5C5X5ZE7HHo3b5S3c1nvxSCH56OVwODS1_4kzlbqFpyfUp7I1ylkwL1WNYZcdl/s1600/IMG_4891.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8NrmOgIguYe04Wd691wl5Sxt_mImescueBepmKaQZfHAin4qxIL11DYWup9CMHLnAcuUTgAju6FEW-5C5X5ZE7HHo3b5S3c1nvxSCH56OVwODS1_4kzlbqFpyfUp7I1ylkwL1WNYZcdl/s400/IMG_4891.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div>It's a lovely mix of the mundane and the fabulous, the exotic and the everyday. I hope you get a chance to give it a try.
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<br />If you're in the area, you don't even have to commit to the hourly rental fee. CCSUP hosts free demos every second Saturday from 9 to noon.
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<br />And if you don't live in the area, you know what I'm going to say.
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<br />This is just one more reason you should come and visit us!
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<br /></a> </div><div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-68704311691078494932011-07-15T07:48:00.000-07:002011-07-16T09:55:29.024-07:00Blogging PaysFor the last couple months of my job search, I was getting pretty stressed out. I started hunting at the beginning of the year, confident I would find something in a couple of months. Before I knew it, the calendar said "April", and the suddenly "May!" I just couldn't believe almost half a year had zoomed by, and I was still unemployed.<br /><br />In a panic, I started spending 10 hours a day in front of the computer. Monday through Friday I searched for jobs; I filled out applications; I re-wrote my resume; I got creative with my cover letters. By the end of each week, the absolute last thing I wanted to do was sit down at my desk and boot up the on-line machine again.<br /><br />But, I'd made a commitment to keep this blog going. And in the face of so much failure and disappointment, I needed at least one project in my life that was going well. So I kept writing and I'm so glad I did.<br /><br />During my second interview for the Program Specialist position at Big Brothers Big Sisters of San Luis Obispo County, the executive director asked me, "Who is the real Madge Morningstar?" She and the other interviewers had liked my answers to all their questions. In fact, they had liked them so much that they began to suspect I was just telling them what they wanted to hear. I was too prepared, and over-polished.<br /><br />This felt like an impossible questions for me to answer. It's a lot easier to prove to someone that you are NOT genuine, than to prove that you ARE. Trust takes faith and time. Well, she didn't have the faith (who could blame her) and I didn't have the time. The interview would be over in a few minutes, and I needed a job NOW.<br /><br />I couldn't think of a thing to say that wouldn't sound like more of what I knew she wanted to hear. Maybe she was expecting to learn about my hobbies and interests...my life outside of work. But, I was afraid even this conversation would seem canned and rehearsed. Anticipating this kind of interest, I had prepared a page in my "brag book" with photos of me finishing trail races, rowing crew, playing with the dog and dancing salsa.<br /><br />If I showed her this page, or even mentioned these activities, I was afraid she would view it as just more of my professional presentation. So I wracked my brain to come up with some acceptable proof of my authentic self that I could share with her on the spot. I had spent so much time preparing for every possible interview occasion that I was completely unprepared for being spontaneous.<br /><br />We were sitting at her desk. He computer monitor showed that she was logged on to the internet.<br /><br />"Would you like to look at my blog?" I asked?<br /><br />Thank goodness I'd been keeping up with it! She sent me out of her office to chat with some of the other team members, while she read about the bed I built in our van...my excitement over spotting a Great Tailed Grackle...my review of Pete's Pierside's tacos...and my admiration for Inga Swearingen. She even saw the photo of me soaking wet and goose-bumped all over, wearing pink patterned tights, giant floppy hat, cherry print Donna Reed apron and a strapless swimsuit on Polar Bear Plunge day.<br /><br />At least she could see I had nothing to hide.<br /><br />So she hired me! And I started the very next day! (One month ago exactly.)<br /><br />It's an interesting, challenging, exciting job with a lot of different responsibilities. Including: supporting the "Bigs" and "Littles" in finding fun, inexpensive, interesting and educational things to do together here in San Luis Obispo County.<br /><br />The half-year I've spent writing this blog has totally prepared me for that!M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-44219950056695255012011-06-24T07:00:00.000-07:002011-07-09T08:03:21.018-07:00Our Zoo part one<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LzBW_6eKbDK6ZBzHpq5aGfdaqF26o8Lye6e64gIEIa_nn6xAt247zGjpYOLP75wT9FfJvufN3kTqbs_QoqOaMazplkNB4N1LPtX08yFoTRAcTfsg_MQrnksAEmjn7UjRZLsyvRgE3bEY/s1600/carlton+door.jpg"><br /></a>When I was 17 or so, I went to a big amusement park with my boyfriend. I don't remember which one, but it had the usual arrangement of roller-coasters and rides...which I LOVE. It also had a little train that traveled through a sort of zoo area. I clearly remember being in line, and being really excited. I was singing a little song in a silly voice. If I close my eyes and think back, I can practically hear the boyfriend's voice repeating after me, teasing me about my song..."the animals...the animals...we're going to see the animals."<br /><br />I don't remember much about the train ride itself...or what we saw from our car. I only know that it made me very sad. That was the day I decided that zoos were bad and I would never step foot inside one again.<br /><br />When I was 17, the world seemed as black and white as zebras, and "never" was a reasonable time line for spur-of-the-moment decisions.<br /><br />I have since learned to appreciate zoos, but I will probably never again feel bubbling excitement on my way inside one. Instead, I approach them with a kind of regretful reverence and cautious curiosity.<br /><br />The problem, of course, is the persistent impression that these animals are in jail. It's so easy to start thinking, "They didn't do any thing wrong! Why are they in cages? Let's set them free! Free! Free!"<br /><br />When I went to the Charles Paddock Zoo last month with my 10-year-old friend, S, I practically held my breath as we walked through the entrance. I really wanted us to have a nice time, and see some things that wouldn't depress us.<br /><br />I think the zoo planners must have been thinking of people like me when they designed the layout, because the first animals we saw didn't seem to be in jail at all. They were just sitting out in the open, free to leave at any time. (At least, that's the way they looked. It didn't occur to me until just now that their flight wings may have been clipped.) Anyway, they were gorgeous, and fun to watch.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHzHTS-tcD__iACXjmltsmUqp-QyysGUdA351S5tOJ7wJxaslyjH2_MugYpK70RsBWjB_1mE9n_NDRqdQXR_0aXtT7XBj-ZeeMoBV3baGKP1_sxWRdlXqEfhyphenhyphenhyphenhyphenSNGnB3OkSJnYy4arEv/s1600/c+blond+bird.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHzHTS-tcD__iACXjmltsmUqp-QyysGUdA351S5tOJ7wJxaslyjH2_MugYpK70RsBWjB_1mE9n_NDRqdQXR_0aXtT7XBj-ZeeMoBV3baGKP1_sxWRdlXqEfhyphenhyphenhyphenhyphenSNGnB3OkSJnYy4arEv/s400/c+blond+bird.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614819696490687474" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm not sure who that is above, but I had to include the photo because he is just so pretty. The ones below are Blue and Gold Macaws (<span style="font-style: italic;">Ara Ararauna</span>). They are disappearing in the wild because the forests are being cut down, and because they get snatched by illegal pet traders.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtT21tG5PgMvk6WcLzFHhCO_BIdn1Qv6ZkjbORQt0MTS0PCMxFAvlzMYtSI6QAQQnCs_hlcDfPZvwfgP06A2jfaFID4VgNBQOz5hc9Wdal_L6sWP0nsorI5cgEOfRD1Gs7fBkjyE9OyhK/s1600/c+blue+parrots+again.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtT21tG5PgMvk6WcLzFHhCO_BIdn1Qv6ZkjbORQt0MTS0PCMxFAvlzMYtSI6QAQQnCs_hlcDfPZvwfgP06A2jfaFID4VgNBQOz5hc9Wdal_L6sWP0nsorI5cgEOfRD1Gs7fBkjyE9OyhK/s400/c+blue+parrots+again.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614819685116202882" border="0" /></a><br />Aren't they lovely? How do they get so colorful?<br /><br />Then next exhibit was a small flock of flamingos. Their placard explained how their pinkness is derived from carotenoids in the crustaceans they eat.<br /><br />But there wasn't any card explaining how the parrots make those blue, gold and green feathers!<br /><br />Neither was their a sign telling us that the flamingo's food isn't pink when they are eating it, as I have always imagined. Rather, the color that shows up in the live prey is usually blue or green. The pink pigment doesn't show up until the carotenoids are dissolved in the flamingo's fat, and deposited into the growing feathers. This sounds strange, until you remember how shrimp and lobsters look when they are raw...kind of greenish brown...and how they look when they are cooked...bright red or pink! Apparently, heat from cooking and digestion by flamboyant birds (or salmon) are somewhat similar processes. (I just learned all that by searching for more info on-line.)<br /><br />On this same side of the zoo there is also an enclosed and roofed area that is easy to miss if you are not looking for it. This is a somewhat sadder display, because it's clear these flightful creatures can't just escape on their own.<br /><br />Still, I enjoyed it, especially the first bird I saw. I nearly gasped with delight, because I knew right away what it was...a red-legged, white-bellied, Black Necked Stilt!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ETgd6F-r7BrRW_IIMcr-SIV19TRxgWJQs22KxDiwOQGREADVe_WiD6G-xqHpZwYAW8V9812dBae506G7b2WxkRa6n8X-OX9JIEpclr4b4HNWf-3NFTD36qRkzzy6CzuLHQThr352mPDg/s1600/c+stilt.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ETgd6F-r7BrRW_IIMcr-SIV19TRxgWJQs22KxDiwOQGREADVe_WiD6G-xqHpZwYAW8V9812dBae506G7b2WxkRa6n8X-OX9JIEpclr4b4HNWf-3NFTD36qRkzzy6CzuLHQThr352mPDg/s400/c+stilt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614798100781090098" border="0" /></a><br />Apparently, these bird are wild local residents. For months, I've been making googley eyes at the ones in my field books, greedily anticipating the day when I might spot one of my own! (I used the word greedy because there are SO many amazing birds here that I do see regularly, it seems almost ridiculous to be begging for more.)<br /><br />It was a big thrill to see this one up close and personal. But, I can't really add it to my "life list" anymore than I can boast to other birders about spotting a pair of Macaws from South America.<br /><br />There were several other interesting species in the aviary. But, other than a white Ibis, I couldn't identify them. (I don't know why they wouldn't just stand still in front of their placards!)<br /><br />I was particularly enamored with this little trio. They reminded me of soldiers, in brown jackets and black helmet...guarding a castle gate.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9voMlNcIJcUluiVE-5MGWlCZiSqsZdaS2BDRRRbZikNh5Roj7e7lkegm1fcOhwYj4x8ttCezgI_1l0vtZaLMRGgyeeeDIV_eimH_FjCpuX724W1QVcF10bv5j5IuW36jQSofokYGHofFZ/s1600/c+geese+in+jail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9voMlNcIJcUluiVE-5MGWlCZiSqsZdaS2BDRRRbZikNh5Roj7e7lkegm1fcOhwYj4x8ttCezgI_1l0vtZaLMRGgyeeeDIV_eimH_FjCpuX724W1QVcF10bv5j5IuW36jQSofokYGHofFZ/s400/c+geese+in+jail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614799384434027778" border="0" /></a><br />We must have looked okay, because they let us pass, and re-enter the main area...where we could determine who was the winner of a little contest we had going.<br /><br />Before we got to the zoo, S and I tried to guess what kinds of animals we would see when we got there. I think I said zebras (none), ostrich (nada), and honey badger (nope.) S however, predicted we would see Meerkats, and she was absolutely right. (You win, Gingersnap!)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieOq546kBtjlPithALciOPMlTpMWN62-5PzO9QAAFAYYYVvRUE9wo4wMxwsjuNw0fXX_pNu5Cf_KN0QnU7i5raStLewnx0ksQoj29bnRl08kye69eO7ZGwII0MamcmvEpcJb89cFaPC69h/s1600/c+meercat+house.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieOq546kBtjlPithALciOPMlTpMWN62-5PzO9QAAFAYYYVvRUE9wo4wMxwsjuNw0fXX_pNu5Cf_KN0QnU7i5raStLewnx0ksQoj29bnRl08kye69eO7ZGwII0MamcmvEpcJb89cFaPC69h/s400/c+meercat+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614799363507576034" border="0" /></a><br />These omnivorous Slender Tailed Meerkats, with the amusingly repetitive Latin name: <span style="font-style: italic;">Suricata suricatta, </span>are type of South African mongoose. <span style="font-style: italic;"></span> I suppose they didn't build it themselves, but I still have to say, I just love their house!<br /><br />I also loved the way they would sprawl out on the sand like sunbathers. Because their enclosure was only about 5 feet high, I could easily hold my camera up over it to take a picture. I didn't think the little guys would notice, but boy, did they! The one shown below looked so calm and relaxed before I put my hand over the edge...but as soon as I did, his head spun around so fast I worried I might have given him whiplash!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0Vk-o1iwg5lhCjgaiThANUj_WGhAQqlIh_1gh0dCxemfLpAbkalqHANCzxS8Nm1FN0JDk3Qwpd0Zgum8ZKuc2ADo6H8EmEC1EBm6md6bcB4b9721NfzBrdCXHetkqxETFMA9KSx2xleL/s1600/c+meerkat+on+tummy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0Vk-o1iwg5lhCjgaiThANUj_WGhAQqlIh_1gh0dCxemfLpAbkalqHANCzxS8Nm1FN0JDk3Qwpd0Zgum8ZKuc2ADo6H8EmEC1EBm6md6bcB4b9721NfzBrdCXHetkqxETFMA9KSx2xleL/s400/c+meerkat+on+tummy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614799359028064386" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It's no wonder they are jumpy about sudden movement above. Their greatest enemies are vultures and birds of prey. Sorry, Mr. Meerkat!<br /><br />I'm sure you'll think it predictably egotistical of me when I admit that, of all fascinating fauna we saw that day, my favorite captive citizens were the ones that seemed almost human. In addition to the sunbathing Meerkats, I was absolutely charmed by the White Fronted Marmosets.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOsYBq1JfAG4yF-zl8sl8B62qmcZ4BVicA8pPWQgTBCwv_TJ0ZKGYso-N0t32dhaEGWq-f43c-A40GE8KMZoeeK5s1hmEF2leKcfKV80ZxzdQykpT828z-bMs7IoSOi4h6rtqxxk6zju8/s1600/c+little+man.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOsYBq1JfAG4yF-zl8sl8B62qmcZ4BVicA8pPWQgTBCwv_TJ0ZKGYso-N0t32dhaEGWq-f43c-A40GE8KMZoeeK5s1hmEF2leKcfKV80ZxzdQykpT828z-bMs7IoSOi4h6rtqxxk6zju8/s400/c+little+man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614819701439982514" border="0" /></a>I wish I'd gotten a better picture. In this one, his pensive little face is hardly visible. And it's hard to see that these little guys were some of the most active of all the animals we saw that day. They were literally climbing the walls, and carousing around on the raised platforms and walkways of their carefully arranged environment like it was a tri-level speedway.<br /><br />This Black Handed Spider Monkey wasn't nearly as energetic, but he was just as fascinating.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboHiy6v8Lv-xfkwXEdsE-a4dy_1lnhgRuysBy2iFfMNPKZSFcfBGCJoWegMj5Y_p79OhYSVgfFgne2ueleoujVgAwU-SC__75vsli9sZH1H6aUZyJluzs2p56EqkE9tCVmtptUmvhV-YV/s1600/c+monkey.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboHiy6v8Lv-xfkwXEdsE-a4dy_1lnhgRuysBy2iFfMNPKZSFcfBGCJoWegMj5Y_p79OhYSVgfFgne2ueleoujVgAwU-SC__75vsli9sZH1H6aUZyJluzs2p56EqkE9tCVmtptUmvhV-YV/s400/c+monkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614798125515488578" border="0" /></a><br />S and I sat down on a bench where we had a clear view of him sitting up on a branch. He looked just as comfortable as we were, and just as interested. Staring at him, feeling him staring at me, I couldn't help but start to wonder...who was watching who? Which one of us was the entertainment and which one of us was being entertained? It was like looking in a fun house mirror...but instead of seeing the kind of "before" and "after" versions of myself that would sell diet pills, it was like seeing "before" and "after" version of myself as Darwin would have drawn them. I felt if I could just remove the mirror, we would be revealed to be exactly the same.<br /><br />I was jostled from my fantastic reverie when the monkey suddenly reached behind himself and took hold of a large poo, just as it was coming out of his butt. He raised it to his nose for a sniff, and then gave it a few turns, considering it from every angle.<br /><br />Suddenly, I didn't feel so connected to him. I knew that no matter how long we sat their, neither S or I were going to take a poo. And if we did, we certainly weren't going to roll it around in our palms. (Maybe that is why these Spider Monkeys are called Black-Handed.)<br /><br />When we resumed our stroll through the park-like menagerie, we were able to observe and learn about animals from all over the world, including Emus and Wallabys (Australia), Two Toed Sloths and Prehensile Tailed Porcupines (South America), Aldabra tortoises (Indian Ocean Islands), Crested Porcupines and Red River Hogs (Africa), Prevosts Squirrel (Southeast Asia) and a Burmese Python (China).<br /><br />There were even a couple of creatures that were completely new to me. Did you know that the Fossa is the top predator on the island of Madagascar? And have you heard of the "stotting" Patagonian Cavies? They look like little deer, but are related to Guinea Pigs. They can achieve high speeds over long distances by bouncing along on all four limbs at once.<br /><br />It looked like the zoo-keepers had taken care to make the animals comfortable. The cages and enclosures were all arranged to look and feel like a natural habitat, except for this one.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvD0-NnuRo0EQOB16vFLW2yexpBuwUstadaE_GhoBMY6T4JRH8k_G3Y9Y-7P7xCflpDHkV9Vpb-Ph86n2nbc7HwgbrBaeHb2CUjWvVKI3U493ZrBnGzVcY_kq5jZDqE7qgWn0fcYkn10e/s1600/c+sheep+barn.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvD0-NnuRo0EQOB16vFLW2yexpBuwUstadaE_GhoBMY6T4JRH8k_G3Y9Y-7P7xCflpDHkV9Vpb-Ph86n2nbc7HwgbrBaeHb2CUjWvVKI3U493ZrBnGzVcY_kq5jZDqE7qgWn0fcYkn10e/s400/c+sheep+barn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614798103676475746" border="0" /></a><br />I guess they figured that livestock has been living with humans for so long that a barnyard IS their natural environment. And I have to agree with them. The animal pictured above is one of their Jacob Sheep, a "Heritage Breed" that may have originated in what is now Syria some 3,000 years ago. This display also held alpacas, which Andean societies began domesticating as many as 6,000 years ago!<br /><br />So, I didn't feel bad about seeing these two species "in-jail." In fact, they looked a lot cleaner, healthier and happier than the pot-bellied-ponies or whatever it is they have at the Avila Valley Barn Farm Store.<br /><br />to be continued...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvD0-NnuRo0EQOB16vFLW2yexpBuwUstadaE_GhoBMY6T4JRH8k_G3Y9Y-7P7xCflpDHkV9Vpb-Ph86n2nbc7HwgbrBaeHb2CUjWvVKI3U493ZrBnGzVcY_kq5jZDqE7qgWn0fcYkn10e/s1600/c+sheep+barn.jpg"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboHiy6v8Lv-xfkwXEdsE-a4dy_1lnhgRuysBy2iFfMNPKZSFcfBGCJoWegMj5Y_p79OhYSVgfFgne2ueleoujVgAwU-SC__75vsli9sZH1H6aUZyJluzs2p56EqkE9tCVmtptUmvhV-YV/s1600/c+monkey.jpg"><br /></a>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-37106481571168791602011-06-23T07:48:00.000-07:002011-07-09T10:26:23.378-07:00Our Zoo part twooAnd I didn't feel too bad about the birds and reptiles either. Sure, most birds are accustomed to being able to fly...which must be one of the greatest pleasures that any living being ever experiences. But, they are only "bird-brains" after all. I find it hard to believe they really suffer from captivity in a well designed arboretum. Same with the reptiles...can their simple brains begin to grasp the fact that they are being held against their will. Do they even have a will...other than the urge to hunt, kills and eat?<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWYAffjhxCtKgSxheglfgLAK_745LfzOxBqHnZRMWfxkaRijldc40ict3dVPp0A7PI01aVNCzRXRR3Zr0jrqkPU9_BA99eOVw20yDYmvsnwEbLcT4uA-P3P1QBN0DwCzhege62UzWfZSa/s1600/a+reptile+brain.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 330px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWYAffjhxCtKgSxheglfgLAK_745LfzOxBqHnZRMWfxkaRijldc40ict3dVPp0A7PI01aVNCzRXRR3Zr0jrqkPU9_BA99eOVw20yDYmvsnwEbLcT4uA-P3P1QBN0DwCzhege62UzWfZSa/s400/a+reptile+brain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627370759452173330" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But what about the mammals, the ones that <span style="font-style: italic;">haven't</span> been turned into livestock over the last several thousand years? This is where the dilemma begins for me.<br /><br />Putting these animals in cages, no matter how "humanely" they are designed, doesn't just keep them contained, it keeps them from being themselves.<br /><br />What becomes of a Red River Hog who never sees a river?<br />How can the Fossa be a "top predator" when it has no prey?<br />Is a "stotting" Patagonia Cavie still a Cavie if she is forever unable to stot?<br /><br />These questions plague me. I put them to rest by remembering my pets: Frankie, Dosher and Pi. I know Frank would rather be outside killing birds any day of the week, but she seems to settle for prowling about the sofa. Pipey, if freed, would pee her way around the neighborhood, and then come home for supper. Dosh wouldn't go any farther than the front stoop, no matter how long we left her out there.<br /><br />I know my animal companions are decended from a long line of domesticated little monsters, and that is part of why they are such home-bodies. But I still think they make a good example of how mid-size mammals feel about their places of confinement. They don't see themselves as "trapped" inside the house (most of the time.) They see themselves as "home."<br /><br />I suspect that is how many of the zoo animals feel as well; that their pens are their safe areas. And if the territory is smaller than what they would claim in the wild, maybe that is okay because there is enough food and water to sustain them. Isn't that the main deciding factor for how large or small a wild animal makes it's territory anyway...food scarcity or abundance?<br /><br />Ok. So I've talked myself into feeling peaceful about the Housecat to Border Collie sized specimens.<br /><br />But what about the meerkats, marmosets and monkeys? They are more than just mammals to me. With their grasping digits and thoughtful expressions, they easily convince me of our close family connection.<br /><br />How do I feel about these furry little people being locked away for a lifetime? At first, it seems just awful. But, when I started to really consider the reality of human nature, it doesn't seem that bad. U.S. citizens watch an average of 151 hours of TV every month (Nielsen, 2008.) Add to that the 240 hours we spend sleeping and the other 240 hours we spend at school or work and you're pretty much got the month covered. Most of our few remaining hours are spent traveling back and forth from our TV's to our offices and classrooms.<br /><br />Really, considering what we homo-sapiens do with our so-called freedom, the human resemblance these three little "M" species share might actually be a reason why they are so WELL adapted to life in a box.<br /><br />Having completed these emotional, semi-rational decision-making processes, I was almost able to conclude my zoo tour in absolute comfort and ease. After all, I wasn't visiting these animals in jail, I was a guest in their very own living rooms. What in the world could be wrong with that?<br /><br />And then I saw the tiger.<br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br />There is just no way I can look a tiger in a cage, especially a gorgeous orange and black striped Malaysian Tiger like this one, and not feel my heart sink down to my heels.<br /><br />Tigers should not be in cages.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7ioMDhxhJ2lYrs92Wc7sjWdi4-5XflO06ut6q2Sw6-jV0L4fMAlCgto_0q161wIHWhtfStRVj1tsj8DFds9k5Gm0-LuYL5vQxzuDg_UIJU1mjp9u7D1A25Rckgxq0KVZGIp1f4O-Nujv/s1600/a+sleeping+tiger.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7ioMDhxhJ2lYrs92Wc7sjWdi4-5XflO06ut6q2Sw6-jV0L4fMAlCgto_0q161wIHWhtfStRVj1tsj8DFds9k5Gm0-LuYL5vQxzuDg_UIJU1mjp9u7D1A25Rckgxq0KVZGIp1f4O-Nujv/s400/a+sleeping+tiger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627367454853283010" border="0" /></a>I don't care how many house they spend asleep. I don't care how well they are fed. I don't care how lovely and lush their environs are made to be.<br /><br />Tigers should not be in cages.<br /><br />I'm not the only person who feels this way. Back at home, I started researching the Charles Paddock Zoo on-line. (I can't even remember how I lived before the internet...can you?)<br /><br />On a site called "lotsafunmaps" one traveler expresses his extreme disappointment in the zoo, especially this exhibit. He writes about the "life and hope gone from his eyes." He asks, "why buy a Tiger if you don't have room for one?" And he laments, "for the sake of my and my child's entertainment, he spends his life this way." He concludes that his zoo entrance fee was "last money of mine that will support such cruelty."<br /><br />I know this is not the effect "Mike" was expecting his comments to have, but after reading them I felt a whole lot better about the Charles Paddock Zoo, and zoos in general. He was putting words to the emotions I had been feeling. Under scrutiny, they just don't hold up.<br /><br />"Life and hope gone from his eyes?" Really? This is so clearly a statement of projected emotion. How could any of us every-day citizens be able to accurately discern a "woe-is-me" expression from the countenance of a bored, frustrated, content or curious cat of this size? I doubt even animal scientists can do it.<br /><br />"Why buy a Tiger?" This guy is obviously not thinking his arguments through. This issue is not the same as that of puppies, dog breeders and mills. The problem with Tigers is NOT overpopulation! We're not going to end their suffering by refusing to buy them.<br /><br />In fact, this Malayan Tiger (not Burmese, as the lostsafun guy mistakenly names him) is represented in the wild by only 500 or so individuals.<br /><br />"For the sake of my...entertainment?" This is probably the most embarrassing statement "Mike" makes, as it reveals the complete self-centered nature of his perceptions. Zoos are not like movie theaters or roller coasters. They do not exist solely for the amusement of paying customers.<br /><br />While providing a happy experience for human visitors is important, accredited zoos also play a huge role in conservation. Sadly, for many animals, zoos are their last hope of survival. The Association of Zoos and Aquariums oversees Species Survival Plans for many endangered megafauna such as cheetahs, rhinos, pandas, gorillas, giraffes and yes, tigers. As a participating institution, the Charles Paddock zoo contributes to a united effort to conserve, protect and study endangered and threatened species along with the wild places they inhabit.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5Lw0DF5maEIkcfvUKYcL1WphM8WSFTfYnr4YgiQfJGUJMt1zO9m6BIjhGKQZ9EMp0-pg-U44282yeB6O_otGFmPNF-pQEEzcUij-KFHCIzdMpCqiT72toyxAgaQCvBWbDEH-rXbmwkLy/s1600/a+ssp+sign.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5Lw0DF5maEIkcfvUKYcL1WphM8WSFTfYnr4YgiQfJGUJMt1zO9m6BIjhGKQZ9EMp0-pg-U44282yeB6O_otGFmPNF-pQEEzcUij-KFHCIzdMpCqiT72toyxAgaQCvBWbDEH-rXbmwkLy/s400/a+ssp+sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627396466239525346" border="0" /></a><br />Zoos also play a vital role in environmental education.<br /><br />As Bill Baker of the Abilene Zoo puts it, "It’s our responsibility...to reach out to the next generation that will become the conservators of the wild...it’s critically important that [children] understand the role that people can and do play in the preservation of the wild places of the world."<br /><br />If I have one criticism of the zoo, it is in the area of education. Is there some way the can communicate the value of the zoo in a clearer way? I hate thinking that children who visit with guys like Mike leave thinking that they best thing they can do for animals is to never again pay an entrance fee that will "support such cruelty."<br /><br />For those of us who care about wild animals, as I believe poor misguided Mike really does, one of the BEST things we can do is give money to zoos. So I'm inviting you now to go and visit the Charles Paddock Zoo, or one local to you, and don't just pay the entrance fee, give them a big tip too!<br /><br />Or donate on-line at http://www.aza.org/<br /><br />If people like Mike don't want to give their money to zoos, that's fine. They can do other things to help wild animals, like reduce the amount of fossil fuels and cheap foreign goods they consume. Or they could petition their representatives in congress to push for stronger protections for the environment. They can chain themselves to redwood trees or pick up trash along the beach.<br /><br />But to blame zoos for the plight of Malaysian Tigers and other majestic, endangered species is like blaming TV newscasters for deaths in Darfur. The people who bring a sad situation to your attention are not the same people who are causing it.<br /><br />So, Thank You Mike, for helping me think more clearly about this issue. And, Thank You Charles Paddock Zoo for all you do to help animals, and for giving us a lovely afternoon.<br /><br />P.S.<br /><br />Dear Mr. Lostafunmaps,<br /><br />The object you derisively refer to as a "sculpture" is actually a children's drinking fountain. As such, it is not laughable, is it adorable. I'm sorry your kids didn't get to enjoy their experience at the zoo, but it was not because an enjoyable experience wasn't there, just waiting to be had.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjzNVXrtiCadeyxJ06oVhIuKMqkZtfQjHUQJQkig5fkxWoxt_ho0NF2jAf6UiNNCsy_NKjrrELR6G_YlzU7M76nH4-1jlhQoPZh1J3EFufwl4A_9O12NirjZa_uQCzAgvmp8eJZO41y3h/s1600/a+lion+fountain.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjzNVXrtiCadeyxJ06oVhIuKMqkZtfQjHUQJQkig5fkxWoxt_ho0NF2jAf6UiNNCsy_NKjrrELR6G_YlzU7M76nH4-1jlhQoPZh1J3EFufwl4A_9O12NirjZa_uQCzAgvmp8eJZO41y3h/s400/a+lion+fountain.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627404273498993714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUyBZtHdIXLOuoV0rv7YES_eNWXJKVTW7L9JUtf9KADiPRivnhA2s0ijBfSVgOayvCZ4jknTeZ-wVZEsBjm68FdXkAXocCzDlQu8a7SWcOOUqQO8-vQbjLjioY2xYwdtTSLt0OxiNEcMl/s1600/c+bug+scale.jpg"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWYAffjhxCtKgSxheglfgLAK_745LfzOxBqHnZRMWfxkaRijldc40ict3dVPp0A7PI01aVNCzRXRR3Zr0jrqkPU9_BA99eOVw20yDYmvsnwEbLcT4uA-P3P1QBN0DwCzhege62UzWfZSa/s1600/a+reptile+brain.jpg"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Ax0E6Au2dqhuMKSPadmZ_XSLlht2N_RoH4lUa0Py7NicSxlbp6GiwQts8tnWYaBZljCN_EQB3zBOyNR9gKPLSvQ9ljRrZO3eBjULQcGpmZpPRxeKsb6GFwk7HFfn-Z8nZpZtVtploWOb/s1600/c+python.jpg"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvD0-NnuRo0EQOB16vFLW2yexpBuwUstadaE_GhoBMY6T4JRH8k_G3Y9Y-7P7xCflpDHkV9Vpb-Ph86n2nbc7HwgbrBaeHb2CUjWvVKI3U493ZrBnGzVcY_kq5jZDqE7qgWn0fcYkn10e/s1600/c+sheep+barn.jpg"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvD0-NnuRo0EQOB16vFLW2yexpBuwUstadaE_GhoBMY6T4JRH8k_G3Y9Y-7P7xCflpDHkV9Vpb-Ph86n2nbc7HwgbrBaeHb2CUjWvVKI3U493ZrBnGzVcY_kq5jZDqE7qgWn0fcYkn10e/s1600/c+sheep+barn.jpg"> </a>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-63619069007635011392011-06-18T08:58:00.000-07:002011-06-25T09:00:33.555-07:00My Pie in the SkyI may have set my sights a little to high when I started this writing project.<br /><br />Last week, when I mentioned our camping trip to Pinnacles National Monument, I had the nerve to add, "more about that later." I shouldn't make such promises! Despite my best intentions, as long as I am blogging only one day a week (sometimes less!) there is just no way I can tell you about every fun thing we do around here. They pile up too fast.<br /><br />I mean, consider last Saturday. We hiked up Cerro Alto during the day, and went to a show at the Steynberg Gallery in the evening. I'd like to write comprehensive, entertaining, well-crafted accounts of both these activities, and share some photos too. But first and foremost, I MUST tell you about what we did for lunch.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR33wacK6tobObo41LwvDgSOaOk413ijbT0bv-A-z5XwS_KcRCxUzf5m2VIpC0zssC33siPZbgN07Te3gBLpEIA1Q9KSCFunUm-knna9mRsakv6O0jcHTA3fG1JfFSG4_sp-bn86doCfp2/s1600/a+road+sign.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR33wacK6tobObo41LwvDgSOaOk413ijbT0bv-A-z5XwS_KcRCxUzf5m2VIpC0zssC33siPZbgN07Te3gBLpEIA1Q9KSCFunUm-knna9mRsakv6O0jcHTA3fG1JfFSG4_sp-bn86doCfp2/s400/a+road+sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622176056780517858" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I know I mentioned the Last Stage West Barbeque in my previous post about Atascadero Lake Park. Despite having driven past this eye-catching establishment at least umpteen times, I had never dropped in. Honestly, I don't know if I would have thought of going on this day either, if I hadn't recently mentioned it here and then felt silly for not being able to say anything intelligible about it.<br /><br />And if we hadn't gone...we would have missed getting our pictures taken in the hillbilly fence!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHMcxHIqW_X4bhBtotr_nJxXoGTJVCVr2dJn3yig8K6s9kCxAzRSxQlMOiTijbgSI3Fk7lxJvFulq-GJa1lcPTnyL1yYgyFEbmGPQYEqiothB9chGx9slguQkptB15xPK67xoZWrQH6fc/s1600/a+better+fence+photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 360px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHMcxHIqW_X4bhBtotr_nJxXoGTJVCVr2dJn3yig8K6s9kCxAzRSxQlMOiTijbgSI3Fk7lxJvFulq-GJa1lcPTnyL1yYgyFEbmGPQYEqiothB9chGx9slguQkptB15xPK67xoZWrQH6fc/s400/a+better+fence+photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622176045714081010" border="0" /></a><br />We wouldn't have been amazed by the apparently natural, authentic and un-manipulated image "Jolly Jim's" ghost in the Mystery Tree.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ90mGQ18IuGHonjeByXZw2RdszmujbZKlGX3iQP48LQsLx1TPJmrkeZhU-IqSszYNPynzrfzLLHh6AVGEww0iwMjcFj0HLdpRnGhhPaj-xQAfZm8v5R7_a7YM1dcGfTXhHZzD_CwjnzVs/s1600/a+mystery+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ90mGQ18IuGHonjeByXZw2RdszmujbZKlGX3iQP48LQsLx1TPJmrkeZhU-IqSszYNPynzrfzLLHh6AVGEww0iwMjcFj0HLdpRnGhhPaj-xQAfZm8v5R7_a7YM1dcGfTXhHZzD_CwjnzVs/s400/a+mystery+tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622176063749363218" border="0" /></a><br />We wouldn't have had the chance to admire this locally built, quarter-size replica of an WWI era S-44 Submarine.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgDspyQJO4M990HDaQLiL4o1EaQARzbQ4DFpl2XyD6udXOoHH9o3WWd2vn9lTrbQ0AtSGYrcMxQWPgRVdr9Wjclz6B5Jkx7Tg2E_guGSFeh1VDugvieGlofgicxPHCQD_9CXvTDTPqL2r/s1600/a+submarine.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgDspyQJO4M990HDaQLiL4o1EaQARzbQ4DFpl2XyD6udXOoHH9o3WWd2vn9lTrbQ0AtSGYrcMxQWPgRVdr9Wjclz6B5Jkx7Tg2E_guGSFeh1VDugvieGlofgicxPHCQD_9CXvTDTPqL2r/s400/a+submarine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622176072451182802" border="0" /></a>We'd have missed learning about our local history from the extensive wall display of vintage posters, maps and news articles.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6KQm5IoiZvyw9Vwc235l-eEvyM020gBDAJlnGLTpZS1VWbXHGfH7rZ6rgtd08dHKgyJsG3N0HUVOqofMIA00IJIFlDX8EINWnCK3ftL73Qgm_2K4nfjbDy5Bxl_PaZlMOs1MF77ocvx7/s1600/a+historic+poster.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 332px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6KQm5IoiZvyw9Vwc235l-eEvyM020gBDAJlnGLTpZS1VWbXHGfH7rZ6rgtd08dHKgyJsG3N0HUVOqofMIA00IJIFlDX8EINWnCK3ftL73Qgm_2K4nfjbDy5Bxl_PaZlMOs1MF77ocvx7/s400/a+historic+poster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622176051134373106" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And, perhaps most heart-breakingly, we still would never have tasted their homemade deep dish lemon-berry pie!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqzv-SnyxhAK21B9vnxr7JvU17fgS80K4D03tpupZcw_pH1VQI1DNvYHvHwadD5_y5cfMZMNj8RmmecxCR1ChYr5c6c_tkFLOiBmph4NmaANRsenOBg-L8SAo6AibRepMUu2f3CZBpBRP/s1600/IMG_4505.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqzv-SnyxhAK21B9vnxr7JvU17fgS80K4D03tpupZcw_pH1VQI1DNvYHvHwadD5_y5cfMZMNj8RmmecxCR1ChYr5c6c_tkFLOiBmph4NmaANRsenOBg-L8SAo6AibRepMUu2f3CZBpBRP/s400/IMG_4505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622176444782776162" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There it is, a whole post, just about the place where we stopped for lunch on a day filled with fabulousness. I didn't even tell you about the live music by a local singer-songwriter with the kind of wonderfully dark-sweet voice that makes you think of molasses and sweet potatoes. Neither did I describe the perfectly seasoned slow-cooked ribs or explain how our dessert was the love child of a lemon bar and a blackberry tart.<br /><br />My original plan of turning this blog into some kind of thorough, orderly tour of Central Coast attractions was clearly just a fantasy. I knew it was going to take years to explore all this area has to offer. That is not surprise. But the cold, hard reality I'm beginning to face is this: unless I devote a lot more time to this blog, writing about all of it would take lifetimes.<br /><br />If you want to hear more about our hike up Cerro Alto or the recent Steynberg show, hang in there. Those events is still fresh in my memory, I haven't given up on writing about them yet.<br /><br />But, if you want to learn about the Talus Caves or the Condor Program at Pinnacles National Monument...you may just have to check out the National Park Service website:<br /><br />http://www.nps.gov/pinn/index.htm<br /><br />Or, come to California and see it for yourselves...but only if you make time in your trip to visit with us too!M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-22598439898300221492011-06-11T10:24:00.000-07:002011-06-25T06:07:21.353-07:00Invalid Adventures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRe8Tta7toOo1hQRGTtM5pus7ATModsWxcuFDxDx0bcHGp29aoMyalgAsfIwDGP5wus4WoygA63Vo2fatXZmc1z6VwTfFg-Wx-Gsp395NLUgUJf9T3gzud17bPmf1CKDrMheUbBdp3JiTk/s1600/a+plaid+pup.jpg"><br /></a>The Central Coast is not a place for armchair travelers! There's no excuse for staying home and reading about far-off lands. There are just too many fabulous adventures waiting for us right outside.<br /><br />But, what if you caught the nasty bug that's been floating around lately, and hardly have the energy to get up and fix your own cheerios? Is it exceptable to stay at home in that case?<br /><br />Not if you're married to me!<br /><br />Because, a couple years ago I single-handedly, solo-mindedly designed and built a very clever collapsible bed platform for our old VW van. (Can you tell I'm real proud of it?)<br /><br />And, because we went camping in Pinnacles National Monument last weekend (more on that later), and didn't get around to breaking it down during the work week, we still had it set up!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1M-GgEgpqWjWnEsOXJlHm0D7bRpYZT7pppXR5msLqL8eRFMRMe8lYhTlAyItV-g77gd_lFoHRbpaibCaqwOs6CmZ8WcH0IqOC073Sk3jKXJDhr0gk0RvOAp94YaPDXGWecwHnYCh4WO4/s1600/a+van+bed.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 249px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1M-GgEgpqWjWnEsOXJlHm0D7bRpYZT7pppXR5msLqL8eRFMRMe8lYhTlAyItV-g77gd_lFoHRbpaibCaqwOs6CmZ8WcH0IqOC073Sk3jKXJDhr0gk0RvOAp94YaPDXGWecwHnYCh4WO4/s400/a+van+bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617016329144462658" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Isn't it cute? Isn't it adorable? Isn't is great how we can slide our cooler and other stuff under the bed like drawers? I just love any excuse to use it, and K having a bad cold looked like a good one to me.<br /><br />So, grab your Puffs Plus, Honey! Just because you're bed-ridden doesn't mean your house-bound!<br /><br />We spent the morning parked at the 24th St. Exit lot, reading books, watching Brown Pelicans,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHliNmwv-x4WlZE2ZCAYlVi5I_rE5aSap0_1U-_fjwKD5vxUfL-Reyp9eAqPlvd7UMuiaXr66hAGwMB1CNM9DaX1iZ11zinKMENiqIUANvRDQ-HcDg7j9CF84ioAtCbA3-lhtxsaCjiq3d/s1600/a+k+in+the+bed+van.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHliNmwv-x4WlZE2ZCAYlVi5I_rE5aSap0_1U-_fjwKD5vxUfL-Reyp9eAqPlvd7UMuiaXr66hAGwMB1CNM9DaX1iZ11zinKMENiqIUANvRDQ-HcDg7j9CF84ioAtCbA3-lhtxsaCjiq3d/s400/a+k+in+the+bed+van.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617016354422187122" border="0" /></a><br />gazing out at Morro Rock in the distance,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZOEOU0fnl34OmG8jmi1JC5ecHYxRcEOSm-0sW7-UlL4JZbZpdGwC_oOEMeWYlAoP9f2N6fpdm8YG3JVU3mmjqI18laIAcnyCf-9kmyZnO3npwnfmJThgUhsTzD6w8eborZvooUBoLeKgI/s1600/a+rock+and+kite+surfers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZOEOU0fnl34OmG8jmi1JC5ecHYxRcEOSm-0sW7-UlL4JZbZpdGwC_oOEMeWYlAoP9f2N6fpdm8YG3JVU3mmjqI18laIAcnyCf-9kmyZnO3npwnfmJThgUhsTzD6w8eborZvooUBoLeKgI/s400/a+rock+and+kite+surfers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617016342455620226" border="0" /></a><br />and thrilling to the dramatic leaps and jumps of our local kite surfers.<br /><br />It seems like such a peak-experience sport, but I can't imagine I'll ever learn to do it. It just seems so demanding and complicated. Look, this guy isn't even on his board or in the water...he's just standing on the beach with his big kite in the air, and it still seems challenging.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4w03YHQcXcPj7BA8qzE9xweCbapS_DH_E4pZJ6HqebwvYy-vnoZRilQl7QAmnv7efooomktt4Elba_ePjhQHCD6e27eqyDcyrpmRijqdVinDYNJgoTUSny0VcC9dbx-s3oUpRCGwzqBR/s1600/a+beached+kite+surfer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4w03YHQcXcPj7BA8qzE9xweCbapS_DH_E4pZJ6HqebwvYy-vnoZRilQl7QAmnv7efooomktt4Elba_ePjhQHCD6e27eqyDcyrpmRijqdVinDYNJgoTUSny0VcC9dbx-s3oUpRCGwzqBR/s400/a+beached+kite+surfer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617018301481157682" border="0" /></a><br />I'll probably stick to more mundane activities, like playing fetch with the dog.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2RW4o0SRJphz83VRxF7mwLrKVjOmIJTq6Vwm_SDtHp962N5oMEDQ3pI6EGOkNdtEJs2kWMKvxnkps3cuipyDOvNZcuPzEjrMhIeL9UGpUe8xoi4TMtlv5T_tk3F_ITNcwhL9O4xvxcbGu/s1600/a+game+of+jump+and+catch.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2RW4o0SRJphz83VRxF7mwLrKVjOmIJTq6Vwm_SDtHp962N5oMEDQ3pI6EGOkNdtEJs2kWMKvxnkps3cuipyDOvNZcuPzEjrMhIeL9UGpUe8xoi4TMtlv5T_tk3F_ITNcwhL9O4xvxcbGu/s400/a+game+of+jump+and+catch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617018305402085266" border="0" /></a><br />After a few hours of strenuous activity (can you read the irony in that?), we had developed quite an appetite. So, we drove into downtown Cayucos and picked up sandwiches at Duckies. (yum!)<br /><br />Then we drove a little further north on the 1, and parked our rolling picnic where we could look out over a slightly different, but equally beautiful, stretch of California coastline.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtRp14EC6nu0mkx9K2YgU2EPhP2awSJFoPH_vCelZgx5IEbvO6rsM0ZqDwJ0Be6gOWwfQF7w7UxpV697Ych55xX6twH20aHmQeDe5sO1Bcx4C_hyPzQwcrCYyoGwO6DWQYf0TtqsrKRUwH/s1600/a+nature+view.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtRp14EC6nu0mkx9K2YgU2EPhP2awSJFoPH_vCelZgx5IEbvO6rsM0ZqDwJ0Be6gOWwfQF7w7UxpV697Ych55xX6twH20aHmQeDe5sO1Bcx4C_hyPzQwcrCYyoGwO6DWQYf0TtqsrKRUwH/s400/a+nature+view.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617016350039996626" border="0" /></a><br />We enjoyed wonderful views to the back,<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_wzSoSLqTwlolJcYmFWdLfVab5kcSHtVGsEvss1qVc5VlOY_gV-v-y77BqLA6DFRJIXWCwgFyJ4zf5PcfvPTpEDIxHEIG6Pqc91jZklEdkM-lCW6ISoEjFlateYEatMTpb9Of4-YmqyY/s1600/a+back+view.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_wzSoSLqTwlolJcYmFWdLfVab5kcSHtVGsEvss1qVc5VlOY_gV-v-y77BqLA6DFRJIXWCwgFyJ4zf5PcfvPTpEDIxHEIG6Pqc91jZklEdkM-lCW6ISoEjFlateYEatMTpb9Of4-YmqyY/s400/a+back+view.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617018294654819650" border="0" /></a><br />to the front,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsNuZWLq60wmmLu6OmzmKBx7ETTyMdEUyYn-RijrSHiVIqbOp12Gur5CaMRxfeobIPmcHnY8WgtuTaHuqouJoeHgs9KNlhtV7laLvUGYsuGS1CcTkjUEAqM5ENIFEFxeZ78lenjKOUP7E/s1600/a+side+view.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsNuZWLq60wmmLu6OmzmKBx7ETTyMdEUyYn-RijrSHiVIqbOp12Gur5CaMRxfeobIPmcHnY8WgtuTaHuqouJoeHgs9KNlhtV7laLvUGYsuGS1CcTkjUEAqM5ENIFEFxeZ78lenjKOUP7E/s400/a+side+view.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617016340284804866" border="0" /></a>and even inside!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRe8Tta7toOo1hQRGTtM5pus7ATModsWxcuFDxDx0bcHGp29aoMyalgAsfIwDGP5wus4WoygA63Vo2fatXZmc1z6VwTfFg-Wx-Gsp395NLUgUJf9T3gzud17bPmf1CKDrMheUbBdp3JiTk/s1600/a+plaid+pup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRe8Tta7toOo1hQRGTtM5pus7ATModsWxcuFDxDx0bcHGp29aoMyalgAsfIwDGP5wus4WoygA63Vo2fatXZmc1z6VwTfFg-Wx-Gsp395NLUgUJf9T3gzud17bPmf1CKDrMheUbBdp3JiTk/s400/a+plaid+pup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617023475303839618" border="0" /></a>She is "Pretty in Plaid," isn't she? At least, she's pretty up against it.<br /><br />All in all, we had a lovely day filled with fun and food, nature and culture, sloth and lethargy. And none of it could have happened if I hadn't built that bed in the van!<br /><br />(Not even the last photos...because "poodle" isn't allowed up on the bed at home!)M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-2335071453597510902011-06-04T06:28:00.000-07:002011-06-11T09:47:31.439-07:00Park at the Lake<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUY2VpZ58nOZqMDWRSoltjkX92rOmlj1aHOWciaR0EQNkyeCn8OAoIreZSuAEEFHn9YHkg0vnRXFsD1IBuiBThc2kiyvbHvgZOpgXqRFbFbJDCvFdWDAWTW8tQlBS_xVhqqTkHtAwV97W/s1600/lake_map.jpg"><br /></a><br />There are two ways to get to Atascadero from our house in Los Osos.<br /><br />The most direct route is simply taking California State Route 41 from Morro Bay. It's a beautiful twisty-turny highway that takes you past the Avacado Country Store, the Cerro Alto Campground and Trailheads, Last Stage West Barbeque and a large private display of metal dinosaur sculptures. (Owen, I think of you every time I see them!)<br /><br />The other option is to drive, counter-intuitively, southeast on Hwy 1 to San Luis, and then head North on the 101. You will cover more miles this way, but it will take about the same amount of time because the roads are wider and straighter and you can drive a lot faster. This is the way to go if the weather is bad, or if you want to make a stop in SLO. This is also the way to go if you want to experience "The Grade," a dramatic and scenic section which will take you up or down 1000 feet in 5 miles. It's a 7% incline...which doesn't seem so steep, until you are on it. (Interstate Highways are built at a maximum grade of 6%)<br /><br />Ok, now you know HOW to get up there...but what are you going do after you arrive?<br /><br />Well, you might want to stop at the Atascadero Lake Park. Especially if it's a warm sunny day, and you've brought a picnic.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAQx6jCZOEaz0RKwhFx_o8No3jGRm81pPHk_fwI_M6-YdoKkgpZYQc5tU8bzsW0kwGcW0CePBUJLC1dRRMvYdqkI1Iym8REMhfabX7QqrBuECM-3r_1N3Dd0z3HlLtR6AGEKlNXjGcix7/s1600/c+picnic+tables.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAQx6jCZOEaz0RKwhFx_o8No3jGRm81pPHk_fwI_M6-YdoKkgpZYQc5tU8bzsW0kwGcW0CePBUJLC1dRRMvYdqkI1Iym8REMhfabX7QqrBuECM-3r_1N3Dd0z3HlLtR6AGEKlNXjGcix7/s400/c+picnic+tables.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614798116407606882" border="0" /></a><br />There plenty of nice tables, benches, and barbeque stands spread out under the trees. I think part of the reason I like it here so much is that it reminds me of Maryland, with it's adorable white gazebo<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYX7HoEKa2OvV5dCSuf9DKTIc6Qk9pE-LKdVy5xkxM0ij-NAsLyF-mXnktB6ZolyyAPJMtROMxXrAlU2K99_A_TSO8Uict_m8KbSFZZ17CLc_WarVInZRJaZCmEvh3LPXUwuD6cHXsuRlV/s1600/c+white+gazebo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYX7HoEKa2OvV5dCSuf9DKTIc6Qk9pE-LKdVy5xkxM0ij-NAsLyF-mXnktB6ZolyyAPJMtROMxXrAlU2K99_A_TSO8Uict_m8KbSFZZ17CLc_WarVInZRJaZCmEvh3LPXUwuD6cHXsuRlV/s400/c+white+gazebo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616964148068888018" border="0" /></a><br />stone and mortar benches,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwx0QYF3FBJRMAT4-CVZI4yyO_dvAgu3_DJ64UwUiggugixhHDxUMk3KvXJg87diDc-kH3BdN_A7lE3s2jLv4iKCPx2ioEbDZDwnr0l9UxIasVJHYVpGCE567jZYtZ66CEpvVaAbu3Zxmw/s1600/c+stone+benches.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwx0QYF3FBJRMAT4-CVZI4yyO_dvAgu3_DJ64UwUiggugixhHDxUMk3KvXJg87diDc-kH3BdN_A7lE3s2jLv4iKCPx2ioEbDZDwnr0l9UxIasVJHYVpGCE567jZYtZ66CEpvVaAbu3Zxmw/s400/c+stone+benches.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614784673852353810" border="0" /></a><br />And abundance of domestic waterfowl.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdvPaqMSo4VmddX8tswJmQ3GSHFatusaCzm0EPbJHH3DKwd0jeDvxs7hQKo4PX-ZaeHkC3i4X_Ixr5XcSKjZODwgC6zZn5vroJvYnH7oMwlVb4iTE6yzVYl4VXsqC1UuZu0LYf-ApV5SU/s1600/c+geese.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdvPaqMSo4VmddX8tswJmQ3GSHFatusaCzm0EPbJHH3DKwd0jeDvxs7hQKo4PX-ZaeHkC3i4X_Ixr5XcSKjZODwgC6zZn5vroJvYnH7oMwlVb4iTE6yzVYl4VXsqC1UuZu0LYf-ApV5SU/s400/c+geese.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614819559221197570" border="0" /></a><br />If you're interested in birds, you can look forward to seeing a lot more than just swans, ducks and geese. Last time I was there I spotted my first Great Tailed Grackle,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrzK71JRomHPgt_BROV9Ocep90USAHFAB-k5WZHYoG_3fD2JGTRmIS3XzZ1LDWpa3Xay1O3z1YJUwDL3zRtMnH_TF0aX6XUHX5TRBYIuy2vGxq6hkanNGJlbQrNMHNhKA9wiyE66AAQv-M/s1600/c+great+tailed+grackle.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrzK71JRomHPgt_BROV9Ocep90USAHFAB-k5WZHYoG_3fD2JGTRmIS3XzZ1LDWpa3Xay1O3z1YJUwDL3zRtMnH_TF0aX6XUHX5TRBYIuy2vGxq6hkanNGJlbQrNMHNhKA9wiyE66AAQv-M/s400/c+great+tailed+grackle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614799373187693426" border="0" /></a><br />along with a dozen other species that I wasn't able to identify...because I didn't bring my binoculars! (When I am going to learn never to leave the house without them?)<br /><br />Happily, this guy wasn't shy at all, and let me get up real close. But, I don't have a field guide for turtles, so I can't tell you what kind he or she is. Does anyone else know?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij6eoRKNqIzDa8HH4tJUQR2-2eB96T7RrxiEvptxCxenhpzwD3SfIKcd7fNPnL4HPtMXTjFrAdwdF5W2k-Sh0y5KpwOwm_j4mQOPg2Rp6Ufgy4pQfraQxc2cNjb_2etT8e6Xg7udbk4N-x/s1600/c+turtle.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij6eoRKNqIzDa8HH4tJUQR2-2eB96T7RrxiEvptxCxenhpzwD3SfIKcd7fNPnL4HPtMXTjFrAdwdF5W2k-Sh0y5KpwOwm_j4mQOPg2Rp6Ufgy4pQfraQxc2cNjb_2etT8e6Xg7udbk4N-x/s400/c+turtle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614784665321510546" border="0" /></a><br />Part of the reason you can see so many interesting things at the Lake Park, is that there is a nicely maintained dirt trail that goes all around the water. It's a sweet place to walk your dog (on leash, please!) or jog a few level laps.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopFe_qD5x8Ma-SVc3VkLw2Yy7BtWwUHEFmORNj6iO52BNEqEkH2xz9aCfj0J_q6xJKmW9C-mE0EvbZATRqqzQCi2TH7jw4BtBi0QbF2Vr0ny20NNkSVNbpjW2vJfAeO-fZEpKF6Mffj9u/s1600/c+lake.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopFe_qD5x8Ma-SVc3VkLw2Yy7BtWwUHEFmORNj6iO52BNEqEkH2xz9aCfj0J_q6xJKmW9C-mE0EvbZATRqqzQCi2TH7jw4BtBi0QbF2Vr0ny20NNkSVNbpjW2vJfAeO-fZEpKF6Mffj9u/s400/c+lake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614799372655036658" border="0" /></a>When you are finished picniking in the shade, looping the lake, and looking at wild-life, you will undoubtedly become curious about the other major attraction at this location, the zoo.<br /><br />At first you may think you have stepped into some kind of severe "truth in advertizing" zone. After all...the official name for the park and lake area is simply, "Atascadero Lake Park." And, the 5-acre display of captive animals is called "The Paddock Zoo."<br /><br />(a paddock is a fenced or otherwise enclosed area)<br /><br />But this Zoo is actually named for Charles Paddock, a county park ranger, who spent much of the 1950's and 60's nursing wild animals back to health. For a small zoo, it gives you a lot to look at, and a lot to think about. So, I am going to give it it's own post.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUY2VpZ58nOZqMDWRSoltjkX92rOmlj1aHOWciaR0EQNkyeCn8OAoIreZSuAEEFHn9YHkg0vnRXFsD1IBuiBThc2kiyvbHvgZOpgXqRFbFbJDCvFdWDAWTW8tQlBS_xVhqqTkHtAwV97W/s1600/lake_map.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 326px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUY2VpZ58nOZqMDWRSoltjkX92rOmlj1aHOWciaR0EQNkyeCn8OAoIreZSuAEEFHn9YHkg0vnRXFsD1IBuiBThc2kiyvbHvgZOpgXqRFbFbJDCvFdWDAWTW8tQlBS_xVhqqTkHtAwV97W/s400/lake_map.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616977012452406002" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I will also try, in the future, to post about the other things I mentioned above: Cerro Alto, the dinosaurs, Last Stage West and the Avacado store.<br /><br />But I doubt I will write anymore about "The Grade." What more is there to say about a steep patch of road? You just have to experience it yourself...or...watch this video! I really enjoyed it, and hope you do too!<br /><br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4oTXU0Ak9Xo<br /><br />(If the link isn't "clickable" just cut and paste it into your browser. Or, search for "US 101 San Luis Obispo, CA The Cuest Grade" on YouTube.)M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-20569973961884275362011-05-28T07:33:00.000-07:002011-06-25T09:05:12.529-07:00Peerless PierTo everyone who has been here to visit us, I apologize. I don't know what I was thinking. Why didn't I take you down to the Port San Luis Pier?<br /><br />It's beautiful, and interesting, and fun, safe for kids, dog-friendly and you can get great food there. That makes it exactly the kind of outing we should offer to all our beloved house-guests!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvn8DUch-dE0aFwTUcE1BP4XrGJe8R513-LSzCHjJGbs42jO1eSDk3UtPhKIwp95S3R4me3ZsUbNGqZqlGfFtvqYpcqP_bXtLJTuMAncOxU3jgwLuLBubK9aMIyzMEaL-Zzb4jFU5pvqw/s1600/IMG_3404.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvn8DUch-dE0aFwTUcE1BP4XrGJe8R513-LSzCHjJGbs42jO1eSDk3UtPhKIwp95S3R4me3ZsUbNGqZqlGfFtvqYpcqP_bXtLJTuMAncOxU3jgwLuLBubK9aMIyzMEaL-Zzb4jFU5pvqw/s400/IMG_3404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159199170301234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But, it's not just a tourist attraction. It's a real working fisherman's pier...um, I mean, fisher-person's...decked out with all kinds of impressive looking equipment for messing around with boats and hauling up loads of fresh-caught seafood.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghEfmPDj4YgI2iVPy-OjALElWRoSpZDwTz60uoDJd4vNhnoIJvJ5IKG80QOgb2yR0D-xdS01yOp6xDEijSrrmVlr0aBmq95yKDcqxhC8BP7lDAAgmzAZV7OuH8I2VE-SlLguM7x82bxjKF/s1600/IMG_3408.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghEfmPDj4YgI2iVPy-OjALElWRoSpZDwTz60uoDJd4vNhnoIJvJ5IKG80QOgb2yR0D-xdS01yOp6xDEijSrrmVlr0aBmq95yKDcqxhC8BP7lDAAgmzAZV7OuH8I2VE-SlLguM7x82bxjKF/s400/IMG_3408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159938291032994" border="0" /></a> That's what makes it so charming. It is NOT like the pier you can drive out on in Santa Barbara. For one, once you get out to the end of this pier...there is actually room to park your car. You don't have to just turn around and drive back. And there aren't any shops selling cutesy crap that no one really needs. The only "junk" you see is the kind that people actually use for working on their boats and catching fish.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtXTNloblKf99hj2o8Rg3sWVHF1kiss67d6nv94BOMswbMQ3Mv9H6gaGaASE4NIxCZrIqlIV9D3fku5mOgB9q6wsRv3m82RBAikmZ3gzWm-2c4tKMcUu2vWH-Mzh5fRy4SySt9xwHMNmO/s1600/IMG_3353.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtXTNloblKf99hj2o8Rg3sWVHF1kiss67d6nv94BOMswbMQ3Mv9H6gaGaASE4NIxCZrIqlIV9D3fku5mOgB9q6wsRv3m82RBAikmZ3gzWm-2c4tKMcUu2vWH-Mzh5fRy4SySt9xwHMNmO/s400/IMG_3353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599158728256049042" border="0" /></a>Now that I think about it, you can do a little shopping. Right near the parking area, you should find a door that is propped open, and leads into a work area with a cement floor, huge bins of ice, a drain in the center of the floor, and a cash register on a counter. This is where you can buy VERY fresh fish.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgE-cQaGMXOYkOaAgxg3xKyxkDdQA01RBax8QVq46bjIN2Vh45O71nhp75vBIU4gAx-SV-fPxWBVCY7kumHiKXbggT5KVwA323UtDR_IuWxWdUvlHaBHg62HKbAU9VoJwSAl-9fhtCoaa/s1600/IMG_3411.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgE-cQaGMXOYkOaAgxg3xKyxkDdQA01RBax8QVq46bjIN2Vh45O71nhp75vBIU4gAx-SV-fPxWBVCY7kumHiKXbggT5KVwA323UtDR_IuWxWdUvlHaBHg62HKbAU9VoJwSAl-9fhtCoaa/s400/IMG_3411.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599160905086019954" border="0" /></a><br />And for vegetarians, or just anyone in the mood for a special treat, look in the cooler for tubs of seaweed salad. Mmmmmm....my favorite.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YIvD9edbI08reWBehQQ_HmD9r0UbNeYRvQpmTy_BUMS45p7MZqCo6j09TtUfhpV5dRFbXT0gqTSSfhAFbso_f7MJqNzbqZGSIoj47MM4zVj43382JlEr9NW0Cpn0ENfVJ-Ja0rmoFh6E/s1600/IMG_3410.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YIvD9edbI08reWBehQQ_HmD9r0UbNeYRvQpmTy_BUMS45p7MZqCo6j09TtUfhpV5dRFbXT0gqTSSfhAFbso_f7MJqNzbqZGSIoj47MM4zVj43382JlEr9NW0Cpn0ENfVJ-Ja0rmoFh6E/s400/IMG_3410.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599160899334041250" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The complete lack of pretension is so refreshing, that you may be tempted to step on in and start asking about the latest catch. That's fine...talk to the fisher-people all you want, just don't buy anything yet! You don't want to be packing a bag of ice around with you during your entire visit.<br /><br />First, you should just walk around and admire the views. On the north side, steep hills covered in bushy greenery emerge peacefully from this calm little corner of the Pacific.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0GMdR9JEwL_i56JcxrqUbm1DD6oSXUQtrJA4aUawRFhhqvRpZuAZOlRPAjRz6-G1xcrrP1Zr1u8XQxi-SOWnsT4kYINzM6AeTqYwyQdZDeA0cdgTkPcfOLpq5bxHPEk0bZsmT84Xt19w/s1600/IMG_3424.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0GMdR9JEwL_i56JcxrqUbm1DD6oSXUQtrJA4aUawRFhhqvRpZuAZOlRPAjRz6-G1xcrrP1Zr1u8XQxi-SOWnsT4kYINzM6AeTqYwyQdZDeA0cdgTkPcfOLpq5bxHPEk0bZsmT84Xt19w/s400/IMG_3424.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159946168600466" border="0" /></a><br />And if you're interested in looking at pleasure crafts or working boats, there are plenty of both.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFYmC8flHptNYffhlOUYU3FmoA3lLfolN5CHNxCit4i_JCj0LYewift2CeEkb9dWlTRGh7x9NYmZntbvyViVlvFPwufxI_JjH6NZRYsQhMBPuKfU5LVqp6bWqjYSBzgdEjZrvHUtApeey/s1600/IMG_3423.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFYmC8flHptNYffhlOUYU3FmoA3lLfolN5CHNxCit4i_JCj0LYewift2CeEkb9dWlTRGh7x9NYmZntbvyViVlvFPwufxI_JjH6NZRYsQhMBPuKfU5LVqp6bWqjYSBzgdEjZrvHUtApeey/s400/IMG_3423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159948719511058" border="0" /></a><br />Or maybe you'd like to do some fishing of your own? You'll be in good company if you do.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_kDoU96hK3d2hblCkEWM55oENQx87slDf56Aca5v7gVw78igCAGLr2YdELVvJOq5mNMyLLui57fsNatl28BQtEjUPOzFhPxc09MUOFem6I3Kqod4sy1Wy-59kbvq-hCI5vi0kCB4kKeo/s1600/IMG_3415.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_kDoU96hK3d2hblCkEWM55oENQx87slDf56Aca5v7gVw78igCAGLr2YdELVvJOq5mNMyLLui57fsNatl28BQtEjUPOzFhPxc09MUOFem6I3Kqod4sy1Wy-59kbvq-hCI5vi0kCB4kKeo/s400/IMG_3415.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159943175089954" border="0" /></a><br />Or just enjoy the live music.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T5rIJmGn_cmEcvwZfzaUtcYb6LiRM7vt88zuTis1ypblG0oXvJWHWLVZESC6AWWm3Ug3egZGTkqI7pHCBgEcukxTk1KvnogJ-x_Flkz9zUVrSwdS3Y3F40Vt0-F_Fp4cGiPIvn_-GOqW/s1600/IMG_3406.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T5rIJmGn_cmEcvwZfzaUtcYb6LiRM7vt88zuTis1ypblG0oXvJWHWLVZESC6AWWm3Ug3egZGTkqI7pHCBgEcukxTk1KvnogJ-x_Flkz9zUVrSwdS3Y3F40Vt0-F_Fp4cGiPIvn_-GOqW/s400/IMG_3406.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611805628026723442" border="0" /></a><br />Whatever you do, make sure you either show up with an appetite, or stay long enough to acquire one, because the Pier is a great place to eat!<br /><br />One of your options is well-appointed establishment run by the same people that bring the fish stand to the Los Osos Farmer's Market. (As you can see, this photo is from a market day, not from our afternoon at the pier.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqHQIY8hwGvZ3QRNx9aRDDu5oeVGgs0vqj-F3Wtp4Ktg2SzZfhRtOI8RpkXwzQAsO34Imk6g8Ia5N-Gj2jzWm6dX6-Djncbki2czgEuWNfEwCKhbAS04Oz82yWUF862awqqE_HC_IMrtkb/s1600/IMG_3443.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqHQIY8hwGvZ3QRNx9aRDDu5oeVGgs0vqj-F3Wtp4Ktg2SzZfhRtOI8RpkXwzQAsO34Imk6g8Ia5N-Gj2jzWm6dX6-Djncbki2czgEuWNfEwCKhbAS04Oz82yWUF862awqqE_HC_IMrtkb/s400/IMG_3443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611792730850408210" border="0" /></a><br />Sorry, but we didn't go into the restaurant, so I didn't get a good picture of how nice it is inside. I'm sure it's worth checking out, I've just never eaten there. I love their organization and want to support them, but I will probably continue to limit my patronage to the Farmers Market booth. Out on the pier, their restaurant just seems a little pricey compared to the other delicious option: Pete's Pierside Cafe!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZB2b6xvlHTHGFW24bnBEG1UtH6Lh9FCo6xUqpQGUU-JBJoYg1GvJmTRac5SE8RXhJapIUim_26PrXFdwvdO4Q3MpdFez6fbsqFG0CGw2FO59DKXln6JmsBgGdv3BSOYioE9lWiXZ_KPo/s1600/IMG_3377.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZB2b6xvlHTHGFW24bnBEG1UtH6Lh9FCo6xUqpQGUU-JBJoYg1GvJmTRac5SE8RXhJapIUim_26PrXFdwvdO4Q3MpdFez6fbsqFG0CGw2FO59DKXln6JmsBgGdv3BSOYioE9lWiXZ_KPo/s400/IMG_3377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599158738248910354" border="0" /></a>I don't know why Pete calls it that. The restaurant is not beside the pier, it's right on top of it! You'll know you've found it when you see the big pink octopus.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwnsybWy3PiBlqABOfeLQR1_sBu9VZ-OZsZP7ItRmi3GuS1vWD6PVbDbxyCpc3EjU_EWPf58_Lii4LYoWYkZ0rAT5u5N6132f9aS70ipr2Oi0zswUMbzh8KmoOjjYkjq04LRb2hlXbIVxs/s1600/IMG_3405.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwnsybWy3PiBlqABOfeLQR1_sBu9VZ-OZsZP7ItRmi3GuS1vWD6PVbDbxyCpc3EjU_EWPf58_Lii4LYoWYkZ0rAT5u5N6132f9aS70ipr2Oi0zswUMbzh8KmoOjjYkjq04LRb2hlXbIVxs/s400/IMG_3405.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159198965975762" border="0" /></a><br />This is a walk-up window ordering situation. And, unless you want to take your plate back to your car, you dine out in the open air. There is a roof, and something of a wind break, which partly sheild the eating area, but it can still be chilly and breezy. I sat with blanket wrapped around me even though I was a pleasant day and I was wearing long sleeves and pants.<br /><br />But the food is good, and fresh, and reasonably priced. We got french-fries and crab cocktail and a fish taco. If you do the same, don't be disappointed when your boring naked taco first arrives.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCK-G7Xyex3E16QP1kgTElZgtuhcH6bzCTYOEuReHcyw18kYQD6nhQre_xf5h1cSgb_KmlzpvKC25M4cXW9QdIaLRbW7thP2pzrOt3G-p5C3nUWl_GMJnv0qkAiEvhB2bcFKMFDu8ZSnA/s1600/IMG_3385.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCK-G7Xyex3E16QP1kgTElZgtuhcH6bzCTYOEuReHcyw18kYQD6nhQre_xf5h1cSgb_KmlzpvKC25M4cXW9QdIaLRbW7thP2pzrOt3G-p5C3nUWl_GMJnv0qkAiEvhB2bcFKMFDu8ZSnA/s400/IMG_3385.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599158739655634194" border="0" /></a><br />Just take it on a little trip to the condiment bar, where you can dress it up properly for this festive occasion.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNSuHv20tCAQVksXy7iPZAPB8DmGL-JxX8HRd8udIr_H00vgxW3WrcoP4MKW_OuMm-9f8_J4ruxAmSbI5fRgKjBGKStjymW-z22l8QDXpI2gL_ZLxwOExXRPKQf7oQJH72PRD94EaCb4R/s1600/IMG_3391.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNSuHv20tCAQVksXy7iPZAPB8DmGL-JxX8HRd8udIr_H00vgxW3WrcoP4MKW_OuMm-9f8_J4ruxAmSbI5fRgKjBGKStjymW-z22l8QDXpI2gL_ZLxwOExXRPKQf7oQJH72PRD94EaCb4R/s400/IMG_3391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599158746638390610" border="0" /></a><br />Another warning: if you decide to order a beer, make sure you either REALLY want one, or have a friend to share it with. They do not mess around with ordinary sized beers at Pete's.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAQdAg_SI3_l12bD-ouQSAaRiaClZTRzzW4lR2pK4oDNl9QMk2CIvN2HwXrxWPBr7F7nSoEUwawX_BPTmx-xB-MvQRnrzsjDM4OHeiZu8z1KPjTpBreUfeiKEbGgSkqZaXT-2zs0EJC1B/s1600/IMG_3388.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAQdAg_SI3_l12bD-ouQSAaRiaClZTRzzW4lR2pK4oDNl9QMk2CIvN2HwXrxWPBr7F7nSoEUwawX_BPTmx-xB-MvQRnrzsjDM4OHeiZu8z1KPjTpBreUfeiKEbGgSkqZaXT-2zs0EJC1B/s400/IMG_3388.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159185816393090" border="0" /></a><br />Even though we enjoyed our meal, and our beer, very much...I have to admit that we made a somewhat tame and boring choice. If we had really been committed to enjoying the best the Pier had to offer, we would have gone around back and picked out our lunch while it was still alive.<br /><br />If you decide to take advantage of this option, just look for this movie-poster-inspired sign.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBG_RNh4k4a8LNWXl8VWkkvisw7hFun7hPrz2XvlAo5lbBPlqPEo9ldqG9kDfXfNEcP7MW3cRT6BXD7OY6qsrhmA0dNct_-_7J47RNf9kpvWTzEqKmqZM1ItHHpDWKbPJ6E_ILoDQGzAG/s1600/IMG_3370.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBG_RNh4k4a8LNWXl8VWkkvisw7hFun7hPrz2XvlAo5lbBPlqPEo9ldqG9kDfXfNEcP7MW3cRT6BXD7OY6qsrhmA0dNct_-_7J47RNf9kpvWTzEqKmqZM1ItHHpDWKbPJ6E_ILoDQGzAG/s400/IMG_3370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599160895702833394" border="0" /></a><br />And then head to the big white bin full of doomed crustaceans.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpeNcd3SPyaOmySda4w6nDwT4KQelmmSSyczKX7fRrKxbaSTkbhQ9iH7HZJ0Gx7tH6OH_2eW_8d5d1J90mp9cppMAo0vC-cf1fS3tY02vETB0yBPDXnqCzyy4xqkbAS-s0l2E0hNRgNoCh/s1600/IMG_3366.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpeNcd3SPyaOmySda4w6nDwT4KQelmmSSyczKX7fRrKxbaSTkbhQ9iH7HZJ0Gx7tH6OH_2eW_8d5d1J90mp9cppMAo0vC-cf1fS3tY02vETB0yBPDXnqCzyy4xqkbAS-s0l2E0hNRgNoCh/s400/IMG_3366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611798783929313842" border="0" /></a>Once you choose the tastiest looking ones, go back to the plastic covered picnic tables to await your meal. You will be given some tools.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgie6pMVCtYF1YflldRD8LAaGiLFWCWys0SCoMYeK4wS2xkuKjeNXwxWSSl9Dnouu4nDbLH_-VOZdx9aeyaWFpS7ri4YWpstb72cPIfinfWL5B46vmQR7AUQqsDJ-7d_kOf_jbiIJoI8Iyk/s1600/IMG_3392.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgie6pMVCtYF1YflldRD8LAaGiLFWCWys0SCoMYeK4wS2xkuKjeNXwxWSSl9Dnouu4nDbLH_-VOZdx9aeyaWFpS7ri4YWpstb72cPIfinfWL5B46vmQR7AUQqsDJ-7d_kOf_jbiIJoI8Iyk/s400/IMG_3392.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159957014984450" border="0" /></a> But no bib, so make sure you have some napkins on hand.<br /><br />After awhile, the server will come out and spread newspaper pages all over the table. That's when you know it's almost time.<br /><br />And then...suddenly a steaming steamer-bucket of crabs is upside down in front of you!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21arl7d6G-EbjOVaJoqhZpTQEKamvyyRzXvfOrEdaX7UH_0T2gdL1RFtb0gyQg891TDe3pwPqRsMYLhOb1s_NjFl-o39eSzvcAA-PoUNPF1ayhr05ASFyHWsrV3XlQWLVB9XTy_HQyUZx/s1600/IMG_3402.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 343px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21arl7d6G-EbjOVaJoqhZpTQEKamvyyRzXvfOrEdaX7UH_0T2gdL1RFtb0gyQg891TDe3pwPqRsMYLhOb1s_NjFl-o39eSzvcAA-PoUNPF1ayhr05ASFyHWsrV3XlQWLVB9XTy_HQyUZx/s400/IMG_3402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599159189672572114" border="0" /></a><br />But really, you don't have to be personally responsible for crab execution make the most of this place. It's really just enough to watch the spectacle of the thing. I love crab, and I don't mind cracking them open. But I had an awfully good time just eating my user-friendly fish taco and watching the other visitors work for their meal.<br /><br />The people in the picture above didn't just order fresh crab. They also had a bucket of raw oysters delivered! It was fascinating watching the father of the group dig a short, blunt-ended knife into each oyster, pry it open, and then hand it to his wife or one of his children. They all waited patiently until every person had one, and then they tipped up the shells and slurped them in unison.<br /><br />This seemed like a fun family to belong to. I hope they were all enjoying themselves as much as I enjoyed watching them. And I hope, when you visit the Port San Luis Pier, you enjoy it as much as I do.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-31902815658604470542011-05-25T10:16:00.000-07:002011-05-25T11:04:13.127-07:00Listen to this<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRdAxOc8IJlT1UP9Gm3Jl3fQAHO0OMimn8h3TwVOheEQq8sSP7hnZBi5cxg8YiYKhF1FlFCEvsGZIGhKc7skC3qjEW79rVA2uYeUDZqmgnKaQmFkFS8PA01gEbKlozkLj0K7Ca_UEwvly/s1600/inga.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRdAxOc8IJlT1UP9Gm3Jl3fQAHO0OMimn8h3TwVOheEQq8sSP7hnZBi5cxg8YiYKhF1FlFCEvsGZIGhKc7skC3qjEW79rVA2uYeUDZqmgnKaQmFkFS8PA01gEbKlozkLj0K7Ca_UEwvly/s400/inga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610715439242396194" border="0" /></a><br />If you live in the area, chances are you have heard of of our local vocal genius, Inga Swearingen. If you don't, you probably haven't...unless you are a faithful listener of Prairie Home Companion...she's been on the show several times, at least.<br /><br />She's just about one of the best musical performers in the world, as far as I've concerned. I was going to write that she's one of the best I've ever seen, but I hardly ever go to live music...so that's not saying much. And this is a case where I really do want to say much, because she's amazing.<br /><br />She does free form improvisational jazz vocalizations...and I bet she's pretty proud of herself in that area...she should be, anyway, because she's got to be the number one, very best person on the planet when it comes to "scat" and that sort of thing. But honestly, that's never my favorite part of her performances.<br /><br />I love when she sings real words, especially when they fit together to make a story. As far as the recorded music of hers that I have at home, the one I listen to most is "Where Flamingoes Fly." It's just beautiful. Gorgeous. Delicious. Delicate. Powerful. Entrancing.<br /><br />When I listen to Inga, I feel like I am being confronted with the true force of human intelligence, converted to sound waves. Yes, she shines on stage, but she also embodies a brilliance like that of Einstein and Hawking. She has a mental power, that she uses to create incredible beauty.<br /><br />Her manager probably wouldn't like to hear her described in this way. The sound of crystal clear thinking just doesn't seem as marketable as the cry of a soulful siren. But the way I see it, our mind and our spirit are interlinked in a magical mysterious way, and listening to Inga sing reminds how to feel awe over this fact.<br /><br />Or maybe her "beautiful mind" is one of her sell-able qualities. Perhaps we've finally reached a time in our culture when big brains are just as valued as big hearts, and men DO make passes as girls who wear glasses. We all seem to agree that education is desirable. (I know Obama's critics call him "professorial" but to me this quality is a big part of his charm, and why I feel compelled to trust him.) And, apparently, science is sexy. (Why else would the bible-thumping, chastity-pledge crowd resist it so strongly?)<br /><br />But we don't have to worry about whether or not calling Inga's music "smart, incisive and perfectly calculated" will harm her image or help it. I'm sure she has very capable people in charge of that thing. After all, her summer tour is taking her all the way to Austraila this summer!<br /><br />For us...the writer and readers of this blog...the only important thing is that she is well-known enough that we get to hear about her, and can listen to her music.<br /><br />Here's here website:<br /><br />http://www.ingaswearingen.com/<br /><br />And you can buy her stuff on itunes, too. (I'm pretty sure.)<br /><br />And if you are in the area, you can join us on Sat. June 11th to hear her perform at the Steynberg.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-32957414662498902182011-05-20T09:38:00.000-07:002011-05-22T21:24:57.976-07:00Go to your left, your right, your leftI made it back to the Johnson Ranch trail...with the proper shoes, and a couple of friends.<br />We met at the trail head parking lot. And, as trail head parking lots go, this is a very nice one, with plenty of room, and great signage. It's worth a visit just to look at the view from here, and read about the local flora and fauna.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqzT6TIa2Im5lBI1WUQlZFWQFfBBssgvU1mkJJVOiP0akXzLMqn-g94ASkZaA7kW9czuuf6XBwy4a3qBwEAMyQ_HiA9EaB7KW5UZpyOQAVN8srVuroXLIzAzxn-X5sMtMI3DUdeGQjPmqf/s1600/j+ranch+wild+life.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqzT6TIa2Im5lBI1WUQlZFWQFfBBssgvU1mkJJVOiP0akXzLMqn-g94ASkZaA7kW9czuuf6XBwy4a3qBwEAMyQ_HiA9EaB7KW5UZpyOQAVN8srVuroXLIzAzxn-X5sMtMI3DUdeGQjPmqf/s400/j+ranch+wild+life.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608845534636192994" border="0" /></a>And unlike so many trailheads, this one has a very detailed and easy to understand map of the route. (It also shows the location and accessibility of a dozen or so other trails and nature preserves in and around the city. Fabulous info!)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwy2wi4x8ZB6gqdE82ivzzP8gDoR36Bbhpx6lzKuhDywUKwVpZNNlQL6NaU2TogcM-AVaoLnjzqZgNwLdrJZkhiS6C2zjbbbQplKdPab4omDH4GhYDr5kWqvs5SfTEWNljOXh9t4Vfg40/s1600/johnson+ranch+map.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 395px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwy2wi4x8ZB6gqdE82ivzzP8gDoR36Bbhpx6lzKuhDywUKwVpZNNlQL6NaU2TogcM-AVaoLnjzqZgNwLdrJZkhiS6C2zjbbbQplKdPab4omDH4GhYDr5kWqvs5SfTEWNljOXh9t4Vfg40/s400/johnson+ranch+map.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608845524423407522" border="0" /></a><br />There were also panels discussing the history of the family that has lived on this property for generations and gave the land as a gift to the city and her citizens. Also, an essay about the Bellevue school house that used to be here. But I was too impatient to pause and read these. Ever since my earlier failed trip, I'd been eaten up with curiosity about what I would find when I ventured into the inviting curves of these hills and valleys.<br /><br />Of course, once I got in there, I realized I could have accurately predicted a lot of what I was seeing.<br /><br />As you'd expect this time of year, the grass is still green from the spring rains.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfsf_zONCDaxfiLCIbDqmQOT2QgZxhw1Ub7aSI0tfpxJzOfnhUh-HTgryYuLnE1c3Ien14eW-X9P0tAJTuW1mYBDbe_sQMnZUvlaKtn8rwlW8jjcuzGIK9IbYz3K5kP93L_lP3XhCKoF6/s1600/grass+up+close.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfsf_zONCDaxfiLCIbDqmQOT2QgZxhw1Ub7aSI0tfpxJzOfnhUh-HTgryYuLnE1c3Ien14eW-X9P0tAJTuW1mYBDbe_sQMnZUvlaKtn8rwlW8jjcuzGIK9IbYz3K5kP93L_lP3XhCKoF6/s400/grass+up+close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608846410879570466" border="0" /></a><br />And all the natural beauty that this area is famous for was well represented, including golden flowers blooming underfoot,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewrh_psLMd-8YGvPqOJKOnymgkHm7EHoCbb0rwMtRlYnmAT_doF8CHeCunAHXH_lpyAkaFkWRPMukTgwXWpnCbnZ_iTJOaWyQqxQ5r_FxwimivJnex8s907YhAXQFXxT_ye1ktiABdcQD/s1600/poppies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewrh_psLMd-8YGvPqOJKOnymgkHm7EHoCbb0rwMtRlYnmAT_doF8CHeCunAHXH_lpyAkaFkWRPMukTgwXWpnCbnZ_iTJOaWyQqxQ5r_FxwimivJnex8s907YhAXQFXxT_ye1ktiABdcQD/s400/poppies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608844243174750882" border="0" /></a>and golden flowers blooming overhead.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2GbSBA9ybHW0dABN41NCFLCsDWsYEGptqxxz94LcJsQRzkWFNO5aEy6yBHfQD_ynqWVmudv8x_-qO-hBad4rXfaGq7lssBimn0qj5VsaDAeVm1PZ5tJ_6kQ7X1-MR41pWwOVUdwUKPLg/s1600/mustard+and+sky.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2GbSBA9ybHW0dABN41NCFLCsDWsYEGptqxxz94LcJsQRzkWFNO5aEy6yBHfQD_ynqWVmudv8x_-qO-hBad4rXfaGq7lssBimn0qj5VsaDAeVm1PZ5tJ_6kQ7X1-MR41pWwOVUdwUKPLg/s400/mustard+and+sky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608844255873823106" border="0" /></a><br />When you go, if you look carefully, you might spot the delicate purple flowers of the wild pea plant,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NT4iLWhaVmTcPzLDCOx20pdlGS3NLbBY4TJpftuvbNgJr5GjccmC6v1FKWP6VR3NXJCfk6594hU_nVdZu7qHpd25EvIuHXIqrNvg7i2z4F9owOyH06KNTMg4-pZg4qIZX9kB4H1GsFr-/s1600/wild+pea.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NT4iLWhaVmTcPzLDCOx20pdlGS3NLbBY4TJpftuvbNgJr5GjccmC6v1FKWP6VR3NXJCfk6594hU_nVdZu7qHpd25EvIuHXIqrNvg7i2z4F9owOyH06KNTMg4-pZg4qIZX9kB4H1GsFr-/s400/wild+pea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608843508345393810" border="0" /></a><br />and even if you don't look carefully, there's no way you'll miss the yucca stalks blossoming pale and stately against the sky.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQYbF7ae1HQaQNdjej8gLixTw5Nje1KzyngansM67pCxBP1sdHNJrF0i7SO81_S-jHWKNZnSA7KOgR_VEDnU_tBXdSOVOfoA3PpKHfO616DsdxKIJCyNlbDQXosvIF9k5GWcP5-cs-hmO/s1600/yucca.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQYbF7ae1HQaQNdjej8gLixTw5Nje1KzyngansM67pCxBP1sdHNJrF0i7SO81_S-jHWKNZnSA7KOgR_VEDnU_tBXdSOVOfoA3PpKHfO616DsdxKIJCyNlbDQXosvIF9k5GWcP5-cs-hmO/s400/yucca.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608843496001836402" border="0" /></a><br />But there will be some surprises too. Each time you crest a hill you won't know exactly what to expect. Perhaps there will be a dozen more hills rolling out before you,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VlMo7HK7oOc-1WNzlybvaOwnFGT4HWU2DfwS_1dl_SEzNv-xqaJ3L_bP3wLs2R6Py2BZ5uA3UECfyRBkcDy6iDYPPtex1qcMQE70svFtxIXYIhRAofHjFbAWXCwZaRFsbV6lV2nuS0CJ/s1600/field+and+hills.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VlMo7HK7oOc-1WNzlybvaOwnFGT4HWU2DfwS_1dl_SEzNv-xqaJ3L_bP3wLs2R6Py2BZ5uA3UECfyRBkcDy6iDYPPtex1qcMQE70svFtxIXYIhRAofHjFbAWXCwZaRFsbV6lV2nuS0CJ/s400/field+and+hills.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608846405030094434" border="0" /></a><br />Or maybe you'll drop down into a shady lane,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvJQdYVF6NV6EcEf1SUmGZATc_n4tEDtUBYEOTRGyGhget5hotOBdmMinOwXieXqit1B4gn21jtyuWa7hELy2JygokkYR9z0Z7E_BNwAz5l2wPzLmAx1tpN9MX0j9zR1meYjV7yqvhTAA/s1600/shady+bit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvJQdYVF6NV6EcEf1SUmGZATc_n4tEDtUBYEOTRGyGhget5hotOBdmMinOwXieXqit1B4gn21jtyuWa7hELy2JygokkYR9z0Z7E_BNwAz5l2wPzLmAx1tpN9MX0j9zR1meYjV7yqvhTAA/s400/shady+bit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608843533216708082" border="0" /></a><br />with a babbling brook.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubWa8WSYVjCZwz6UXacGl3eSKqBUlxQApg-kVmADgI0vWbAy3mLlLEjLfGcVGRb-X7lQyFjlSupr8FkiLee7x5FrA8Id_0zQvJ-5VSx17Yq2GeRPEs1g7N8T6yI0ARROawJKhCqU_VEJY/s1600/shady+bridge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubWa8WSYVjCZwz6UXacGl3eSKqBUlxQApg-kVmADgI0vWbAy3mLlLEjLfGcVGRb-X7lQyFjlSupr8FkiLee7x5FrA8Id_0zQvJ-5VSx17Yq2GeRPEs1g7N8T6yI0ARROawJKhCqU_VEJY/s400/shady+bridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608843524107204802" border="0" /></a><br />You might be surprised by the vivid colors of lichen on rock echoing the wild flowers in the fields.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1A4EUaqIbMz8VYXTztmmcaO5ureQxrJLZ-KvWt-ecR1IoKcRIE3Kc1RjhT20uk6f5r8v5ejQ7UPid0woOx-tturbXXQMgRzrGp8FqtHgUf1LfFGVKZOYNUygl6XWtM_-GvBmxuJCImSrw/s1600/orange+rock.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1A4EUaqIbMz8VYXTztmmcaO5ureQxrJLZ-KvWt-ecR1IoKcRIE3Kc1RjhT20uk6f5r8v5ejQ7UPid0woOx-tturbXXQMgRzrGp8FqtHgUf1LfFGVKZOYNUygl6XWtM_-GvBmxuJCImSrw/s400/orange+rock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608844248641857922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />You might suddenly step onto a uniquely shaped bridge,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NQXA6nM8BlZqC7DSvWJVLH_vjGDUqLX_tO8ahe71VOpEMxF4SPgz-9Nj3pLQoe0jpvmn-vyCAs6qBz6SqmYC08NJpS1v_1msL5iy5BN3yofbCvZnR4UbSyoIkJ9XH-QWZuNZ-_zeWJe5/s1600/angles+bridge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NQXA6nM8BlZqC7DSvWJVLH_vjGDUqLX_tO8ahe71VOpEMxF4SPgz-9Nj3pLQoe0jpvmn-vyCAs6qBz6SqmYC08NJpS1v_1msL5iy5BN3yofbCvZnR4UbSyoIkJ9XH-QWZuNZ-_zeWJe5/s400/angles+bridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608845542222158562" border="0" /></a><br />or find yourself climbing up hill to tackle a matched pair of them.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivWWcd0vyxwSyOavaH13eKPpfuHiC2T_YUVLwShO5vP7LixDapixhXmnBJ-gSwfxhZvNIu1YNJRtAEQjW3WAQNVmD_y7DKv-X7LlxhnK_Zb_zwmh2cjCOmtfex0bLPyNv7p4crlG8wM4c/s1600/sunny+bridges.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivWWcd0vyxwSyOavaH13eKPpfuHiC2T_YUVLwShO5vP7LixDapixhXmnBJ-gSwfxhZvNIu1YNJRtAEQjW3WAQNVmD_y7DKv-X7LlxhnK_Zb_zwmh2cjCOmtfex0bLPyNv7p4crlG8wM4c/s400/sunny+bridges.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608843515340174018" border="0" /></a><br />With all the twists and turns of this trail as it rises and falls through the park, you may start to think you have the place all to yourself. Most of the time you just can't see far enough ahead or behind yourself to get an accurate assessment of the population on the trail. This, perhaps, is when you may start to talk out loud to yourself, or hum a little song, or begin to tell you innermost secrets to your faithful dog who is trotting along in front of you (on her leash, of course.) The surroundings are so beautiful and peaceful, they invite a release of inner feelings, they encourage the personal expressions of poetry and music.<br /><br />They also hide the impending appearance of other hikers...and folks just hanging out on the hillside reading a book, painting the landscape or just enjoying the view. So try to keep your mouth shut, if you don't want to embarrass yourself, and maybe startle the natives<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzs7kLrIEC9SSgrZVmKZvx-1g00oK1T2uiyQ47VN2XQUuSeZVz3UC2Ix8K5Nl0oPzE4CDUbJ36eI29csVq4vwTGRAXLiHz6X7JJZNG2V9kR1isIovZtL0YwZdt1UCSNblBEZzr-x7lZT1/s1600/cows.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzs7kLrIEC9SSgrZVmKZvx-1g00oK1T2uiyQ47VN2XQUuSeZVz3UC2Ix8K5Nl0oPzE4CDUbJ36eI29csVq4vwTGRAXLiHz6X7JJZNG2V9kR1isIovZtL0YwZdt1UCSNblBEZzr-x7lZT1/s400/cows.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608846396644629762" border="0" /></a>or bother the bees.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrbnudUZRdYU7fDeQdSutOn0hggdKPgBZfUvVAvEX_RkfDH9HtBNcu8yGKB3J0ssYbeJQ8Ag70UJvj4516fM-Qa-n2t7PRN8ItMjXTaZYh0Ag8_tTPzgRZwGDyffCVlX1F6n2jxDb4gFGX/s1600/bee+hives.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrbnudUZRdYU7fDeQdSutOn0hggdKPgBZfUvVAvEX_RkfDH9HtBNcu8yGKB3J0ssYbeJQ8Ag70UJvj4516fM-Qa-n2t7PRN8ItMjXTaZYh0Ag8_tTPzgRZwGDyffCVlX1F6n2jxDb4gFGX/s400/bee+hives.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608846387318867778" border="0" /></a><br />The whole hike, if you stick to the outside loop until you find yourself back in the parking lot, is about 3.5 miles. The trail is pretty narrow, so you've got to walk single file, and it's pretty hot in the middle of the day, so you've got to bring some water. The hills are steep enough to bring a little interest and challenge to your adventure, but not enough to be treacherous or daunting. In general, it's just an ideal outing for nature lovers or just anyone who appreciates fresh air and beautiful views.<br /><br />(Unless you suffer from pollen-triggered allergies. I don't know what is growing out there that isn't growing in town, but my poor friends were sneezing their heads off by the time we returned to the cars.)<br /><br />Thank goodness, I don't have allergies. So, I just fell in love with this trail. And now that I had walked it...I couldn't wait to RUN it! It seemed perfect, a great distance, a good number of hills, a technically challenging but achievable terrain.<br /><br />So I went back the next week. This time, I didn't just bring the right shoes, I brought NEW shoes, that I got for FREE at GH Sports.<br /><br />This is a locally owned store right here in SLO and it's great for athletic gear. They sell clothes they actually make on-site. If you want to see their sewing shop, just ask for directions to the restroom...you have to walk past the machines in order to get there. They also carry a wide variety of running shoes, have a treadmill and video machine in the show room so they can correctly assess your gait, and their sales people are all very knowledgeable and generous with their time and energy. And, they keep your name and purchasing history on file...using a little index card in a metal box - so old school!...and when you buy your 10th pair of shoes, you get the 11th one free.<br /><br />Partly because they were free, and partly because Mizuno recently changed to a lighter mesh upper on the toe box of the Waverunner model that I've been wearing faithfully for years, I thought I'd take a chance and try something different. I have a problem with the new mesh. Yes, it lets in more breeze...which is nice for hot feet after a few miles in the sun...but is really terrible at keeping the sand out of your shoes when you are running on a trail near the ocean. I'm not sure which is more challenging, running in soft dunes, or emerging onto the pavement and trying to continue running with half a cup of sand sloshing around inside each shoe.<br /><br />I don't know what kind these new shoes are. They say "INOV" on the side...with a little logo that looks like a bare foot next to the name. The underside boasts about it's trademarked "fascia band" in the instep and "meta-flex" at the ball. All I know is, they feel wide and flat compared to my other shoes. When I am standing still, they practically make me feel like I am standing bare-footed, which I understand is the hot new trend in the philosophy of distance running.<br /><br />It makes some sense to me. When I am training for a long race, and slowly adding mileage to my weekly runs, it's not my lungs or my legs that get tired during the last long mile. It's not even my mind, most of the time. It's my feet that get exhausted and start to hurt. The theory, as I understand it, is that all these cushiony, protective shoes that we wear are actually causing the muscles in our feet to atrophy, when what we need to be doing is making them stronger. So those funny looking Vibram Five Finger shoes...or whatever they are called...and shoes like these INOVs are supposed to let your feet get stronger along with your legs.<br /><br />Unlike the 5 finger slip-on thingees which I cannot imagine ever wearing with anything other than a bathing suit, my new trail runners put some serious protection and traction between my tootsies and the trail. The inside of the shoe might be light on contour, and the sides might be low on structure, but the soles of these shoes are serious! They look like they were inspired by a pair of cleats. And front of the shoe suggests a past life as a steel toed boot.<br /><br />I just couldn't wait to break them in at Johnson Ranch. And that turned out to be not such a great idea.<br /><br />For one, the soft green hills that seemed to slope gently upward when I was walking them suddenly got a whole lot steeper when I was trying to run them.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLpbbbkFgcAqvac6rkePb_5Sd_yWPdFlmkDnAZx7uTHJE-Vuz6JOx1kC6Ks-bQwLltKzkkRHZA_f9FNMrvvxHiGCceRQdu32PY7CG8YHYL-Tbmif9lFTTBDgsX7_WTqUXRKMFYU3w0tdX/s1600/green+hillside.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLpbbbkFgcAqvac6rkePb_5Sd_yWPdFlmkDnAZx7uTHJE-Vuz6JOx1kC6Ks-bQwLltKzkkRHZA_f9FNMrvvxHiGCceRQdu32PY7CG8YHYL-Tbmif9lFTTBDgsX7_WTqUXRKMFYU3w0tdX/s400/green+hillside.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608846423786455650" border="0" /></a><br />And the frequent changes in direction that seemed so interesting add a whole extra dimension to a training jog. Suddenly I realized that there really aren't many flat stretches on this course. You are always running either up hill or down hill, without a break to catch your breath!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqzT6TIa2Im5lBI1WUQlZFWQFfBBssgvU1mkJJVOiP0akXzLMqn-g94ASkZaA7kW9czuuf6XBwy4a3qBwEAMyQ_HiA9EaB7KW5UZpyOQAVN8srVuroXLIzAzxn-X5sMtMI3DUdeGQjPmqf/s1600/j+ranch+wild+life.jpg"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7FjNi6qiUjqH-ob6n1NDBAfO_gLa0-eMlIu0k78-thn8QUOJQbbZQaqlnw9_OLkBku0RzmHRA06fHGq2UgbXCTRaVz8mn5xU4jyOHyZD5gY8tbaHBWFNv1HgpW7bmR3mmsdZXNB4NGVl/s1600/more+rolling+trail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7FjNi6qiUjqH-ob6n1NDBAfO_gLa0-eMlIu0k78-thn8QUOJQbbZQaqlnw9_OLkBku0RzmHRA06fHGq2UgbXCTRaVz8mn5xU4jyOHyZD5gY8tbaHBWFNv1HgpW7bmR3mmsdZXNB4NGVl/s400/more+rolling+trail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608845517320113970" border="0" /></a><br />Unless you count the few times that the trail takes you along the side of the hill. At these moments, you only have to focus on not falling OFF the trail, because the dirt is so steeply banked that one misstep might cause you to totter off into the fields or gullies below.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPHokAax-78qEZiyNFPjRcZ3M6gb6oX0rliEsokevoLCknXrT3I7360WyY1sNx136SEH4tiqzvN5_Hb2p-7zkk57ZKgsiiP3HXfC6tfgt_VN7D-quESnmVBZ1ej-gfLJe0klpn4135i35-/s1600/banked+trail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPHokAax-78qEZiyNFPjRcZ3M6gb6oX0rliEsokevoLCknXrT3I7360WyY1sNx136SEH4tiqzvN5_Hb2p-7zkk57ZKgsiiP3HXfC6tfgt_VN7D-quESnmVBZ1ej-gfLJe0klpn4135i35-/s400/banked+trail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608845546614400306" border="0" /></a><br />And did I mention that it's rocky? When you're taking your sweet time, sure, it's fun to notice the pretty colors on the rocks. But when you're trying to keep your heart rate up and maintain some speed, all you have time to notice is that there are an awful lot of them, and that they are very hard and have extremely rough surfaces. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewrh_psLMd-8YGvPqOJKOnymgkHm7EHoCbb0rwMtRlYnmAT_doF8CHeCunAHXH_lpyAkaFkWRPMukTgwXWpnCbnZ_iTJOaWyQqxQ5r_FxwimivJnex8s907YhAXQFXxT_ye1ktiABdcQD/s1600/poppies.jpg"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYyiuZIH1Eodteer8EH04UprZrZAqn3Op1VZ2Kn-wyc_GTceM5_BL9ZQnBAgvxKGXVpYB1EuagvN4GRt70b9vlRly-gl-7E8nclglu1QOtlxRVeofBQZZKZRR_08imI6iKYQwE2L5T-wU/s1600/rocky+hill+and+arbor.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYyiuZIH1Eodteer8EH04UprZrZAqn3Op1VZ2Kn-wyc_GTceM5_BL9ZQnBAgvxKGXVpYB1EuagvN4GRt70b9vlRly-gl-7E8nclglu1QOtlxRVeofBQZZKZRR_08imI6iKYQwE2L5T-wU/s400/rocky+hill+and+arbor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608844239335948930" border="0" /></a>This is especially noticeable if you have new shoes one, and if those shoes express an only slightly obstructed ambition to be a pair of cleats.<br /><br />You don't realize how much clearance there is under your foot every time you step over a root or a branch or a pebble...do you? Most of the time, you just pick your foot up from where it is and place it down where you want it. Your amazing brain does such a good job on judging the distance between your body and the objects in your path...and it so accurately accounts for the extra space needed for the bottom-side bulk of your footwear...that you only ever trip when you cease to pay attention to the path...or when your vision is obscured by darkness or opaque objects.<br /><br />OR, when the size and shape of your shoe is different than the one you are used to! That is the situation I was in...but why would I anticipate that being a problem. It's not like these new shoes were THAT much different that my old ones. I mean, they are still running shoes...not high heels or roman sandals. The variance is probably less than a centimeter.<br /><br />But I think my brain must be calculating the clearance needed on each step right down to the micro-meter. And I had switched the specifications of my footgear and forgotten to re-calibrate my neurons.<br /><br />The result was painful.<br /><br />The first time I tripped and slammed up against a boulder with my shin I thought it was just dumb luck. (Emphasis on dumb.) I picked my self up and ran a few more steps.<br /><br />The second time I tripped I fell into the dust, skidded on my hands, and slipped sideways several feet down hill and into the grass. I blamed it on the dog running too close and confusing my perception of the micro-topography.<br /><br />But the third time, when I landed in gravel and ended up with a throbbing ankle, a bleeding knee and shredded palms I realized what was happening. I was tripping over my own feet! Or, rather, I was tripping over my own shoes. I'm not sure which is funnier or more embarrassing.<br /><br />To compensate, I started running with my knees high up in front of me, giving extra clearance to ever stick, twig or blade of grass in my way.<br /><br />And when I got to tired to keep taking giant steps, I started taking smaller steps. I didn't fall again, but I did start scuffing my shoes on the trail. I did that for a while...scuff, scuff, scuff...until suddenly, my brain seemed to have adjusted to the new shoes, and I didn't scruff anymore. I just looked at the path in front of me and magically stepped onto it.<br /><br />It's funny how we don't notice all the amazing little details of how our brain and body works together until a glitch shows up in the system.<br /><br />Happily, my glitch fixed itself and even thought the run was as challenging as it was beautiful, I enjoyed it very very much.<br /><br />I hope you get a chance to explore it when you are in the area next.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIltBNdzCKnfE107b4IytsP3YrTtVTMaWlAN_brdlx_i3x6J3R7BnkF0m9AbpsxjMS76tNBgPQ-H-o-gWBzUED_Pepyxdvi1DktwpQW5eN4uEeDyVFzQnEMdDBKmm16Gh6GHes7p8NY4DV/s1600/rolling+trail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIltBNdzCKnfE107b4IytsP3YrTtVTMaWlAN_brdlx_i3x6J3R7BnkF0m9AbpsxjMS76tNBgPQ-H-o-gWBzUED_Pepyxdvi1DktwpQW5eN4uEeDyVFzQnEMdDBKmm16Gh6GHes7p8NY4DV/s400/rolling+trail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608844231755130370" border="0" /></a><br /><br />(And I hope you remember to check for ticks when you finish...I found one crawling up my neck as I was driving home! Ugh!)M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-85176019293429525892011-05-20T09:06:00.000-07:002011-05-20T09:38:08.118-07:00Kicking it in SLO<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZFStZuHQLCGF1KGr4yL_vjHE2Z0V55MJNBwzhA0RGbNYW9iUqKCKX27pc2benBa_Kt8JKzwpZGP4q9C-riR-IB_1B5syDlFcN8-4wuYVd4tSfTgtZJEqfwxyqwqLzaDoDOpK8SI3sqi3/s1600/IMG_3684.JPG"><br /></a><br />When I started this blog I thought I'd be writing every week about all the things that are unique to this area...the gorgeous hikes, the beautiful beaches, the rolling vineyards and diverse wildlife. Of course, I write about those things sometimes...but today I want to tell you about something really fun we did last Sunday afternoon...that we could have done just about anywhere...if the weather was tolerable and we could find the right group of people.<br /><br />We accepted an invitation to gather at a little park in SLO and play kickball! The friend who invited us is someone we don't know very well...and the rest of them were complete strangers...so we really didn't know what we were getting into. K suggested that they might be real serious athletes...dressed in gym clothes and chugging gatorade. Or, she thought, they might be a bunch of fun loving ex-frat boys...touring the bases in baggy jeans and celebrating each home run with a beer bong.<br /><br />Turns out, they were more of a stripy-socked, suspender-wearing, neon mohawk crowd. We couldn't have been more delighted. And the beverage of choice...icy white russians in red plastic cups.<br /><br />I stuck to water, and to make up for my 30 year history of totally sucking at team sports, really focused on helping my team win! (Which we did.) But other people were a lot more relaxed. Which was good...because despite my best efforts I still messed up a lot and it's nice to have people laugh good naturedly and pat you on the back when you when make mistakes.<br /><br />On of the most dramatic moments of the game came when on of the outfielders saw a ball sailing through the air straight towards her. We all watched as she mentally prepared for catching the ball neatly with one hand. At the last moment, she must have decided she wouldn't be able to do it. So, she let go of her cocktail, and caught the ball in her two free hands at the exact moment her cup hit the ground in a big splash of ice cubes and cream liquor.<br /><br />I wish I had a picture of that!<br /><br />But I was having too much fun to take many pictures. Here is one...and you can see K standing out there ready to catch the ball if it gets kicked toward her. You can also see her drink set a "safe" distance away.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmvSKIHdp3FDTksTnipxj3Hn3oFemyroMREmyDzykFFtDGwxZ0siJ7FMpPTs9I1ECYtkYv-9TZGK_l0ftCfmKcrVrSEiFMjUDmGvhTFH7XL-04UzjK_s_j8zxJSS6XywrtpxsM8_zzdU7/s1600/kickball.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmvSKIHdp3FDTksTnipxj3Hn3oFemyroMREmyDzykFFtDGwxZ0siJ7FMpPTs9I1ECYtkYv-9TZGK_l0ftCfmKcrVrSEiFMjUDmGvhTFH7XL-04UzjK_s_j8zxJSS6XywrtpxsM8_zzdU7/s400/kickball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608832026377414898" border="0" /></a><br />There was a beautiful blue and white sky above us for most of the afternoon. And, similar to almost any spot in SLO, we were surrounded by rolling, undeveloped hills in every direction. It couldn't have been a more pleasant day, or more pleasant spot. Except for the ten minutes when clouds poured in, the temperature dropped by what felt like 15 degrees, and it started to rain down on us.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZFStZuHQLCGF1KGr4yL_vjHE2Z0V55MJNBwzhA0RGbNYW9iUqKCKX27pc2benBa_Kt8JKzwpZGP4q9C-riR-IB_1B5syDlFcN8-4wuYVd4tSfTgtZJEqfwxyqwqLzaDoDOpK8SI3sqi3/s1600/IMG_3684.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZFStZuHQLCGF1KGr4yL_vjHE2Z0V55MJNBwzhA0RGbNYW9iUqKCKX27pc2benBa_Kt8JKzwpZGP4q9C-riR-IB_1B5syDlFcN8-4wuYVd4tSfTgtZJEqfwxyqwqLzaDoDOpK8SI3sqi3/s400/IMG_3684.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608838432499880930" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And every one kept playing, despite the rain and sudden darkening of the sky. Maybe the alchohol was keeping everyone else warm and they didn't even notice the change in the weather? I don't know. But I loved that we kept at it. And, before long, the nice day came back.<br /><br />After the game, most of the players headed across the street to have a barbeque. K and I headed home so I could start getting ready for my job interview on Tuesday.<br /><br />But on the way, we drove through the Laguna Lake neighborhood. This is a section of SLO that is about as close as you can get to Los Osos and still live in town. There is a house for sale that we can't even begin to think about being able to afford...but we like to look at it on-line. The back yard faces the lake, with a breathtaking backdrop of fields and hills behind it. The front of the house is nice too...see?<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAR3sPkY42Xl0JpVazWVCYQdOEtUKbyBa7ANc-NAW3ZouI9lrf9_oCBBHYtTyg0a1NRwpJ5SPeYbBdvpe-TGiuVl6vWmjIyHAIGDorWntAf3hnvFOwoSqc9iMeqWAuOoyzLrCtY0NlQaQr/s1600/laguna+lake+house.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAR3sPkY42Xl0JpVazWVCYQdOEtUKbyBa7ANc-NAW3ZouI9lrf9_oCBBHYtTyg0a1NRwpJ5SPeYbBdvpe-TGiuVl6vWmjIyHAIGDorWntAf3hnvFOwoSqc9iMeqWAuOoyzLrCtY0NlQaQr/s400/laguna+lake+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608832020150875602" border="0" /></a><br />I feel pretty committed to living in Los Osos...but I guess living here wouldn't hurt my feelings too bad! And we'd be a lot closer to the kickball games.<br /><br />But, unless we win the lottery (which we won't, because K promised to stop buying tickets when I pointed out to her for the umpteenth time that she never checks to see if she got a winning one or not) I guess we'll be staying here in our little blue house with the red door for a while longer.<br /><br />P.S. I totally bombed on that job interview. I think the manager and I just weren't a good fit for each other, so I guess it's all for the best.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-73605940216330489762011-05-14T10:03:00.001-07:002011-05-14T10:37:17.456-07:00Just a couple of reasons to love AvilaHere's what you do when you want a day at the beach, but it's a little to foggy or slightly too cool or a bit to breezy here in Los Osos or on the North County beaches at Morro Bay and Cayucos...you head south!<br /><br />I often say that we live right where southern California turns into northern California. Head up to Cambria from here, and you'll see beautiful peaked and craggy shores built from rock and twisted cypress trees. If you drive just a little bit further, you'll reach Big Sur, and all the dramatic views that region is famous for. I think this aspect of SLO county is my favorite.<br /><br />But sometimes, you really just want a little fun in the sun. That's when you go down to Pismo and the other "5 cities" beaches. (I believe the other 4 cities are Grover Beach, Shell Beach, Arroyo Grande and Avila...but I'm not sure.) That's where you'll find bouncy girls in bikinis and suntanned boys in board shorts playing volley ball in the sand. Of course, it's still too cold to get in the ocean for long without a wet suit, but the air is warm enough for people to lay out and "work on their tans." (Do people still do that? When I lay out in the sun, I do it because it feels so good...but I am wearing 70 spf all over!)<br /><br />My favorite beach down South is the one between the Avila Pier and the San Luis Pier. The sand is light and find...not rough and pebbley like the one at Spooner's Cove. And, because of the way the shoreline curves, this beach faces due south, and the sand soaks up the sun all day long. Bring your flip flops because sometimes it's too hot to walk very far barefoot.<br /><br /><br />The road runs right past the beach, but it is raised up quite a bit, so that the beach is protected by a steep bank. The road itself is hugged by high green hills on it's other side, so when you are down by the water, you are very protected from the wind if it is coming from the east, west, or north. Of course, if it is coming from the south, it will pour in off the water and there's no way to avoid that...but most days, it isn't.<br /><br />Most days, when it's too chilly for beach-bunnies farther up the coast, it is PERFECT down here.<br /><br />But, the very best part about this beach is that it is one big dog park! We love taking Piper there so she can run around off-leash. Everyone is very friendly, we've never had an incident with another dog there, and because of the steep bank up to the road...the animals have very little opportunity to run out into traffic.<br /><br />Here is Piper looking very dignified, with the moored sailboats behind her.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ZJVCbQY7zfySyUJkpxsf9c9LZ647Tip0Qf0QjdT2zqEIqkNPSlEj5mYbb31jT0jG_PMaUoNuv_r_HLBFEv3El9X0pojgINRX-m4mxFviJmf-xALECnVzuQ1YB4vL4jIK69lWqCX720v0/s1600/IMG_3601.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ZJVCbQY7zfySyUJkpxsf9c9LZ647Tip0Qf0QjdT2zqEIqkNPSlEj5mYbb31jT0jG_PMaUoNuv_r_HLBFEv3El9X0pojgINRX-m4mxFviJmf-xALECnVzuQ1YB4vL4jIK69lWqCX720v0/s400/IMG_3601.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606620051508725458" border="0" /></a><br />And here she is with beach goers and the Avila pier in the distance.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPWwauQvQT2eMm9CjJVhTM5GGZI_PIaNT_z7W7DbGty-uZsg2-_sra_DCcHtAmklxQFivvf94BEtrhFb6f3k1xb2r8pusNHdO3ngxmaWYIzs2T4U9j5NraSB41eobFeKsGlmHYzJLH5c3/s1600/IMG_3603.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPWwauQvQT2eMm9CjJVhTM5GGZI_PIaNT_z7W7DbGty-uZsg2-_sra_DCcHtAmklxQFivvf94BEtrhFb6f3k1xb2r8pusNHdO3ngxmaWYIzs2T4U9j5NraSB41eobFeKsGlmHYzJLH5c3/s400/IMG_3603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606620048318405794" border="0" /></a><br />Another great thing about going down to this beach is that you can stop at the Avila Farm Store on the way home. (I'm not sure that is the real official name of the place, but that is what I call it.) It's right off the exit from the 101, and really worth visiting.<br /><br />They have a petting zoo that gives me mixed feelings.<br /><br />I love looking at the pot-bellied donkeys<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_ODx8hpzJTs8fZK0zu8AqpkMZ3yJSpqLM5pzULHueYrEN_9ODe07kqOuPZPuMY-lZjQp7xqCqeShBVcQTtBRGt0NHDSwdGp-jwIVqi4wL5Lejr7PKPyxBlRbmxsXYuZPaLic9R7iphBI/s1600/IMG_3606.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_ODx8hpzJTs8fZK0zu8AqpkMZ3yJSpqLM5pzULHueYrEN_9ODe07kqOuPZPuMY-lZjQp7xqCqeShBVcQTtBRGt0NHDSwdGp-jwIVqi4wL5Lejr7PKPyxBlRbmxsXYuZPaLic9R7iphBI/s400/IMG_3606.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606620058993795026" border="0" /></a>and feeding the miniature cows<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pd9vyB81GXyLpToaYg9AC4g2bcgm4HBLNK3lN-fluw_jFSyaGNxbc38zqIFUFMhg-wYfle_6kfG2zsvCJnN6CEjraOhqoS7OrB19rZCYfEw5zIIEv19nqIPmkcJtqj4jYoYiPcMc3Hm7/s1600/IMG_3611.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pd9vyB81GXyLpToaYg9AC4g2bcgm4HBLNK3lN-fluw_jFSyaGNxbc38zqIFUFMhg-wYfle_6kfG2zsvCJnN6CEjraOhqoS7OrB19rZCYfEw5zIIEv19nqIPmkcJtqj4jYoYiPcMc3Hm7/s400/IMG_3611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606620062818959602" border="0" /></a><br />But some of the other animals just look tired and dirty. It's hard to know if they mind their small spaces or not...but I think they probably do.<br /><br />The store itself is really a compound of small buildings. One serves ice-cream and houses all kinds of old-fashioned candy. Another is like a farmer's market with overflowing bins of fresh local produce, and tempting baked goods. A third has prepared products that you really can't find many other places. German fiesta mix, for example. I don't even know what that is, but I want some.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdzjxO13aRUorCpVxYJnwO-cjB3XwXZQjjr1ScLtigUvzPJLZooQGqH9O1xGYtfjMAfvphRpHQ3icnKYsqHja8aqHExsO2A2UDi1c5u4PFiic7eA_XrPd1mqN-MhGrcJ6t0KyUEUJedL8/s1600/IMG_3618.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdzjxO13aRUorCpVxYJnwO-cjB3XwXZQjjr1ScLtigUvzPJLZooQGqH9O1xGYtfjMAfvphRpHQ3icnKYsqHja8aqHExsO2A2UDi1c5u4PFiic7eA_XrPd1mqN-MhGrcJ6t0KyUEUJedL8/s400/IMG_3618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606620069905555906" border="0" /></a><br />I would like to tell you all about the other great things about this area: the Bob Jones Trail, the hot springs, the San Luis Pier, the Friday night farmer's market, whale cave and the snow cone stand...but that will have to wait until next time.<br /><br />I'm leaving in a few minutes for Santa Barbara. I'll try to take some pictures so I let you know what it's like down there. I guess that will have to wait til the time AFTER next. <br /><br />If I am every going to catch up with all the things there are to tell you about on the Central Coast, I am going to have to start writing every day, instead of once a week.<br /><br />I'm not going to have time to do that, though...because I have a job interview on Tuesday...and I KNOW I'm going to get this one. Wish me luck and send good thoughts at 4pm, Pacific time. <br /><br />I'll let you know how it goes!M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-27664145210843018032011-04-30T06:00:00.000-07:002011-05-05T16:00:58.799-07:00Weekend MenuI didn't start this blog just to encourage myself to explore and learn about the Central Coast. I was also hoping it would inspire our distant loved ones to come explore it for themselves. And, gee...has it ever worked!<br /><br />We've had almost a dozen house-guests since we moved here in December...and another one scheduled this weekend!<br /><br />Here's my plan for while he's here:<br /><br />Friday night:<br /><br />Supper at home followed by a tour of the neighborhood. We might visit the Elfin Forest, the 4th St. Audobon Society Overlook, Sweet Springs Nature Preserve and maybe even Los Osos Oaks park.<br /><br />Saturday morning:<br /><br />I'm planning on running in the "Miracle Miles for Kids" 10K race. This event benefits a local organization that works with foster families and kids. It starts at Morro Rock and goes all the way to the Cayucos Pier. I'm suggesting that K and our visitor drop me off a little before the 8:00 am start. While they are there, they could walk over to the bay side of the road and look for otters floating in the kelp, eating their breakfast on their chests. They'll have a good chance of seeing some, I think.<br /><br />Then, if they follow my suggestions, they'll drive North on Hwy 1 to the halfway point between the race's start and finish lines, North Point. From the hill-top benches, they'll have a great view of the whole race, and all the runners working toward their goal. When they tire of that, they can head up to the big after-party that will be happening in Cayucos. There will be food and music and a big crowd of happy, outdoorsy people. Hopefully, they won't mind hanging out there for a while...because I'll be depending on them to give me a ride home!<br /><br />Saturday afternoon:<br /><br />I'll probably need a nap after the race. But by early afternoon, I'll be ready for another adventure. And, according to my cherished tide-log, the water level in the bay will be cooperating. Beginning a little after noon, and lasting until well into evening, the tide will be over the 2.5 foot minimum required for easy exploration of the back bay. We might even be able to explore the estuary channels as far up as the S. Bay Blvd. bridge that passes over Turri Creek. I've always wanted to do that! If it's not too windy, we might bring a picnic supper and either eat it in the boat, or beach it on the sandspit for a less tippy dining experience.<br /><br />I think it will be nice to put the canoe in at the tiny little strip of sand just north of the Nature Museum over in Morro Bay. It's so pretty over there, with the green of the golf course sloping up into the trees. And, our guest might want to make a quick stop at the Museum. We might even see some Black Crested Night Herons in the rookery there. Or, we might take the time to drive up through the golf course, to the overlook at Black Hill. You can really get a sense of the lay of the land from up there...or rather, the lay of the water. It's probably a good idea that everyone in the canoe understands the shape of the bay before we head out into it. I think it makes it more enjoyable once you're out there.<br /><br />The best part about a tide like that is you can paddle around as long as you want. There's no deadline for when you have to head back, or risk getting stuck in the mud half a mile from dry land. We could stay out there and watch the stars show up, if we wanted to.<br /><br />Sunday morning:<br /><br />But, we'll probably want to come back and get to be early. Because the next morning, I'm going to take them both to a groovy tide-pooling spot over in the Montana de Oro. K's never been there because so often when we tide-pool there are kids along and this site is too rocky and treacherous for children. But, I think our grown-up company can handle it.<br /><br />Sunday afternoon:<br /><br />Our guest might leave mid-day on Sunday, but if he doesn't, he can come with us to the Dinosaur Caves Park in Shell Beach. There is going to be live performance by supposedly the best local band in SLO county. I forget their name, but a musically-inclined friend told me we should go, and K wants to.<br /><br />She might change her mind, however, when I remind her that Sunday afternoon is also when the "BEST IN BAY" dog show will be happening over in Morro Bay.<br /><br />That's always the problem here...to many fun things to do...so many hard choices to make.<br /><br />There is a guided bird-watching hike happening out at the Piedras Blancas light house on Sunday morning that I really wanted to go to...but I didn't rsvp in time.<br /><br />And, there is a book sale at the Los Osos Library on Saturday that I'd love to check out, but I just don't think we'll have the time or energy.<br /><br />Oh well. There's always next weekend!M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-29396367488288208742011-04-23T07:40:00.000-07:002011-06-11T09:50:30.914-07:00Monster TroubleI'm having blog trouble. The one and only photo I posted on the last entry, "two rights make really wrong," doesn't seem to be displaying at all. Nothing I do seems to help. Oh well. It wasn't a very good picture anyway.<br /><br />The more serious problem is this; I'm a total cheater. I have manipulated this blog entry so the date says I posted it on 4/23. That way, when I look at my list of entries, it will appear that I kept my New Year's goal and wrote something every Saturday. But the truth is, I didn't write anything last week.<br /><br />I knew I probably wouldn't have time to write on my designated writing day. But I decided months ago that it's okay to write on Sunday instead if I am too busy having bloggable adventures the day before.<br /><br />And, what could be a more bloggable than a story about the Lucky 13th Annual Easter Beer Hunt?<br /><br />A few weeks ago, K and I met some new friends over in Morro Bay. They have a weekend house in town that they visit semi-regularly, and plan to retire to at some point. But right now they live in a big old Victorian on some acreage in Bakersfield.<br /><br />They are very handy, do-it-yourself people. They have remodeled and decorated their little beach cottage to the point of magazine-readiness. And apparently, they also know how to home-brew beer.<br /><br />For their yearly party, they hide bottles of their own custom blends all over their property and invite their (adult) friends to come find it. Afterwards there's a live band and a big barbeque.<br /><br />It's a two or three hour drive from here to Bakersfield but K and I planned to make the trip. It just sounded like too much fun to miss. I don't even like beer...but I sure would have enjoyed running all over their land with a basket in my arm, hunting for it.<br /><br />Sadly, we instead ended up dealing with semi-urgent paperwork and phones calls about property we still own in Colorado instead. sigh. Maybe it's time to hire a management company.<br /><br />So you're probably thinking I could have just written about something else. And you'd be right, because I have a long list of topics just waiting to be explored, and a big file of photos just waiting to be uploaded.<br /><br />But you'd be wrong...because you don't know about the MONSTER.<br /><br />That's right. I couldn't find the time, or peace or quiet for writing because we were invaded last weekend by an furry, slobbery, sharp-toothed, long-tailed wild-thing. This intractable force of nature swept into our lives with very little warning, creating havoc and disaster in it's path.<br /><br />But it was hard to get very upset about it; it was just too cute. Look at it!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGwHOEiITmtPIIURN8Mr8Ue4V1TwrQn2bmYWx5YcUnM-Q20Fq9c_97_3jJy4FSMv8j7WnUQhlkVFlQ_ejLH3frpb4R3Eyyvu6w_YnXcAU6dpwFqaq7D70nIAo6royHnOcwE1KR8zz-5WB/s1600/look+at+it.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 372px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGwHOEiITmtPIIURN8Mr8Ue4V1TwrQn2bmYWx5YcUnM-Q20Fq9c_97_3jJy4FSMv8j7WnUQhlkVFlQ_ejLH3frpb4R3Eyyvu6w_YnXcAU6dpwFqaq7D70nIAo6royHnOcwE1KR8zz-5WB/s400/look+at+it.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601396156084687282" border="0" /></a><br />The picture's a little blurry because the only time she held still was when she was sleeping.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZwXTf5regtOxc000sFPgE28ZH6SwDQZUtDbdvyZ11imF7x8IFk7Qr7LhEbKOH1URl_zdJYFYI9sqtBVpRYfWLJB6YW583DyEVxVLlpB6fCAdQUdE6kz4N-2ZqpRMWreEi7CN3jggJnbn/s1600/sleeping+puppies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZwXTf5regtOxc000sFPgE28ZH6SwDQZUtDbdvyZ11imF7x8IFk7Qr7LhEbKOH1URl_zdJYFYI9sqtBVpRYfWLJB6YW583DyEVxVLlpB6fCAdQUdE6kz4N-2ZqpRMWreEi7CN3jggJnbn/s400/sleeping+puppies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601397170527768098" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Or staring at the cat.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSvFVYIZs4lAYKkM1gU50q2fDw0DzxDkdWghZAz8vX5U1TlZafU3Gd_9GKyw4z9dbA6j9ReD7IkZELpyJUvPZ14C_Fm4ul3ev9hy4youOwvQ2tcaAk554yfLd5RjYaQNc9awEPT_7jQ9U/s1600/IMG_3438.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSvFVYIZs4lAYKkM1gU50q2fDw0DzxDkdWghZAz8vX5U1TlZafU3Gd_9GKyw4z9dbA6j9ReD7IkZELpyJUvPZ14C_Fm4ul3ev9hy4youOwvQ2tcaAk554yfLd5RjYaQNc9awEPT_7jQ9U/s400/IMG_3438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601397430792708322" border="0" /></a><br />The monster's name is Ruby. She's 8 months old, a real sweetheart and a bursting bundle of energy. When I offered to puppy-sit her for a few days, I knew she would require a little extra time and attention. But my goodness! What a handful. I had no idea.<br /><br />I will be happy to have her over anytime our friends need a "baby"-sitter again...but I'll make sure I have my blog obligations taken care of BEFORE she arrives.<br /><br />Puppies and writing just don't mix.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-40645994545481915642011-04-16T08:39:00.000-07:002011-04-16T08:44:06.362-07:00Two Rights Make Really Wrong<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="http://localhost:50365/3839bb1e04cd4d76f175e531e7bd7ca8/image/8ce8b066f227e7b2.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://localhost:50365/3839bb1e04cd4d76f175e531e7bd7ca8/image/8ce8b066f227e7b2.jpg?size=400" border="0" /></a> </div>Piper had a long day on Tuesday. She waited patiently all morning while I did job hunting and related tasks on-line. Then, she waited in the van while I did an hour long yoga class. Then, we drove to SLO where she waited some more while I got a tour of the new free clinic that is opening up soon. Just when I told her all the waiting was over, I passed K on the road. She was on her way to the dentist, which was just around the corner. So, I surprised her by popping into the waiting room to say hi and keep her company while she waited to see the amazing Dr. K. (I love our dentist.) Of course, Piper had to wait in the car for that too. And then I just had to stop at T.J. Maxx to pick up some pillowcases because we only have exactly enough cases for all our pillows which means that everytime I wash the bedding, some sad pillows have to sit around naked until I finish the laundry. There were some really cute dresses on sale in there too, so I know I spent longer looking around than the "just a few minutes!" that I had promised the dog.<br /><br />Don't worry! It was a cool day, and I parked in the shade each time with the windows part way down. And, I gave her frequent water and pee breaks. But still, that's a long time to just be waiting in the car! After all that, it was finally time for the main event of the day...at least as far as Piper is concerned...hitting the trail!<br /><br />I was so delighted to finally get a chance to run on the Johnson Ranch trail. It is just a couple miles south of town on the 101, so you'd think I'd have explored it already. The fact is, I didn't even know about it for years. The trailhead itself isn't really visible from the highway. You have to know which exit to take, and then you have to be ready to swing off onto the dirt parking lot immediately, before you miss it.<br /><br />It was a perfect day for a run. The air was warm, but breezy. All the recent rain has made the grass as green as the emerald city. From our spot in the parking lot, we could see the trail curve away and disapear behind the first set of rolling hills.<br /><br />What was back there?! We didn't know yet, but we were about to find out. If there is one thing in this world I LOVE doing, it is exploring new trails on foot, with my dog. Piper loves it too. Once she got a whiff of that fresh air, mingled (I'm sure) with the scent of trail dirt and wild bunnies, she was just barely able to contain herself. We both wanted to rush right out there.<br /><br />But, I was still in my "meet the foundation director" clothes. So Piper, who is always perfectly attired for trailrunning, had to wait some more while I got out of my jeans and boots and sweater, and into my shorts and t-shirt and fleece vest and ...most importantly...running shoes.<br /><br />As always in these situations, I said a silent mental "thank you" to K for getting this old van with the roomy interior and darkly tinted windows. It's like driving around with private dressing room! I'm really able to take my time getting comfortably undressed and redressed without worrying about people peering at me. It's especially wonderful for beach living, and outdoor adventures.<br /><br />There is even plenty of room to keep extra supplies...like towels and dry clothes and extra shoes. K has suggested that many times, and I totally agree with here that it is a good idea. But I haven't actually done it. And oh, did I wish I had that day...especially the part about extra shoes!<br /><br />Because, when I was all dressed and ready to go except for my sneakers, I looked down into my bag and saw that instead of one pair of shoes...I had brought one each from two separate pairs...and they were both for my RIGHT foot!<br /><br />It's not like I've never brought the wrong supplies for running before. I have run up mountains in jeans, push-up bras, and even without socks on various scatter-brained occassions. But I just couldn't bring myself to run a rocky trail with two right shoes!<br /><br />So we went home and ate cookies instead.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-61899976589044373452011-04-10T06:00:00.000-07:002011-04-10T09:56:05.982-07:00Double Egg Surprise at the School Cafeteria<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Friday morning, I went to a free talk on preventing child abuse. Don't worry, this blog's focus is FUN stuff, so I'm not going to write about that. I'm going to tell you what happened before and after the lecture.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br />The internet wouldn't work when I got out of bed. Of course, I'd save all the relevant event info on my google calendar. Since I couldn't access it, I just had my memory to go on. Here's what I remembered: 8:00 am in room 154 at Cuesta College.<br /><br />I was real impressed when I got there with all the signs directing me from the entrance to the correct parking lot and then to the correct sidewalk. But, once I was standing on the sidewalk with all the various buildings that make up the campus spread out in front of me...I couldn't find anymore signs! I was running a little late. I think it was 5 after by the time I got out of the van. I started to think maybe they had removed the rest of the signs so random, curious people wouldn't wander in and interrupt the event.<br /><br />Well, I was curious, but I wasn't random. I had pre-registered on-line! So I wandered around, determined to find room 154 on my own. It was a cold, dreary, damp morning. There were hardly any students anywhere. I couldn't find anyone who looked like enough of an authority to bother asking for information. Most of the doors I tried were locked. I started to feel like I was going to cry.<br /><br />Does anyone else ever feel like that when they are late and lost and cold and alone? I felt so silly, getting so upset. I mean, what was the worst thing that was going to happen? I would go home to my dog and a hot pot of tea and do whatever I wanted for the rest of the morning. Certainly not a fate worth crying about!<br /><br />But I didn't want to do all that, I wanted to go to the talk. So, I called my good friend A., who was sitting at her desk at work already, and asked her to look up the event info on-line.<br /><br />Once again I noticed how my memory for numbers just isn't all that good. The talk started at 9:00 am in room 1504.<br /><br />I was almost an hour early. No wonder all the signs weren't up yet! Luckily, I'd brought a book with me, and by now, I'd found the cafeteria and knew that it was open...and warm inside.<br /><br />I found a table by a big window. There was a bunch of shrubbery growing up against the glass, so there wasn't much light coming in. But it was cozy and I was so happy to be inside! Instead of reading, I decided I'd rather call my mom and find out what her plans were for the weekend. She's always got interesting things planned.<br /><br />She didn't answer and I left her a message. It went something like this:<br /><br />"Hi Mom. It's me. I just called to see what you were up to. It's Friday morning and I'm in the cafeteria...oh! Oh my goodness! I've got to go! I'll talk to you later! Bye!"<br /><br />Staring out the window, with the phone to my ear, I'd suddenly noticed a tiny, drab-colored little bird perched on a branch of the bush. It probably only saw the reflection of the bush and sky against the window pane, and thought it was safely hidden from everyone and everything. But I could see right through the glass! It was less than two feet away from me! And it was TINY. It couldn't have been more than 3 inches long from beak to tail. I started wracking my brain, trying to remember what little greyish brown bird was as small as a hummingbird!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWVEopPUFeGx2mrKJB0GSLjfhXzFfor5WMUNYtkpeCq5lAytR4wmxGNqt_3B-aK31h2q6Fx9jZ1HauGBWY7r5vrC0brBcHxbNCdNY6RWLhT7PARIwu7VHbWlCazo4rnN0ZzbrJQ5F8lcy/s1600/IMG_3208.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWVEopPUFeGx2mrKJB0GSLjfhXzFfor5WMUNYtkpeCq5lAytR4wmxGNqt_3B-aK31h2q6Fx9jZ1HauGBWY7r5vrC0brBcHxbNCdNY6RWLhT7PARIwu7VHbWlCazo4rnN0ZzbrJQ5F8lcy/s400/IMG_3208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593978062016280370" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >I wish there was some way to communicate just how small and fragile this bird looked, and how close I was to it! In the photo above, it just looks like a photo of a larger bird taken from farther away. But it isn't! I had my nose pressed right up against the glass, and I was looking right into it's teensy little eyes! (When they were open, they are kind of closed in this photo.)<br /><br />Thank goodness my neck eventually got tired enough that I had to back away and stand up. Otherwise, I might never have noticed the OTHER bird. This one in her charming and miraculous little cup nest built from lichen!</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt_mQ9fA4VVp0W4setmKP_VJB2LBNa45IW6Oqu1ib66ZpBihOiuCAbRd4gHYRumGqeQQpl06LBXWnGR0lSgji-3JkIkMUINWwdGG8BG6BOosdstbrIEQF8FWrI8wXX1gD1FEO5qVpAANnh/s1600/IMG_3198.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt_mQ9fA4VVp0W4setmKP_VJB2LBNa45IW6Oqu1ib66ZpBihOiuCAbRd4gHYRumGqeQQpl06LBXWnGR0lSgji-3JkIkMUINWwdGG8BG6BOosdstbrIEQF8FWrI8wXX1gD1FEO5qVpAANnh/s400/IMG_3198.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593979992644930338" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >The first one was looking up at it every so often, like he was just checking to make sure she was okay. At this point I decided that the first one must be the male, and that he was guarding the female while she sat on their eggs.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9mk7kVQRPBbUuIp-M7iy90HwJeyMR6JLNDUEddo1cZMncj6eaL-w4sFehFuZBaq01zVNKeBpieQJvkBK94yVZjGNOqaqpZfMJSQI6-y0Dr71i1Ar7lJxibR8yZBjfmW64SlwU96HV1QO/s1600/IMG_3193.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9mk7kVQRPBbUuIp-M7iy90HwJeyMR6JLNDUEddo1cZMncj6eaL-w4sFehFuZBaq01zVNKeBpieQJvkBK94yVZjGNOqaqpZfMJSQI6-y0Dr71i1Ar7lJxibR8yZBjfmW64SlwU96HV1QO/s400/IMG_3193.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593978066153241714" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />I stood up on a chair to try and get a better view down into the nest. I was hoping the eggs themselves would help me identify these mysterious miniature birds, but I couldn't see any.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyBuuPJeaZ_EF1ChVwFwmEqZMNRdR1pU557IEcFw19zoseNo6Ew8bOVOiOT-597UpKfr0sZLQJwM_J0s0h5rRfIiChK1XWMKEdzcgW6nmASmvtKHaisDz2XuPGoqez3RWJ_FDiMv4M2xf8/s1600/IMG_3218.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyBuuPJeaZ_EF1ChVwFwmEqZMNRdR1pU557IEcFw19zoseNo6Ew8bOVOiOT-597UpKfr0sZLQJwM_J0s0h5rRfIiChK1XWMKEdzcgW6nmASmvtKHaisDz2XuPGoqez3RWJ_FDiMv4M2xf8/s400/IMG_3218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593980008221757170" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >I knew they couldn't actually be hummingbirds, no matter how tiny they were. For one, they didn't have any bright colors at all. No green wings, no orange backs, no red pink or purple throats. They were just drab drab drab. Plus, they weren't humming. They were just sitting there. I had never ever ever seen any hummingbird be that still! "Gosh Darn It!" I thought, "Why do I EVER leave home without my bird books?"<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />And then, the first one hopped off his little branch, and flew! He hovered in the air just a few inches from his perch with his wings thrust out sideways and moving so fast that they became an almost invisible blur.<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFg0duuAZ3XGzXMSfCrTbK6qJxZLo8ELFiMNdrcpRpIOSJMs9c82w9WRnkekl4hbSge4gp2D3TIGQ6PG_-2bkW3b0bN_nVSjU7zOOtcvYdkil_a8N05xvcrywARlc_QWOAiSpWqSt8s5w/s1600/MVI_3205.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFg0duuAZ3XGzXMSfCrTbK6qJxZLo8ELFiMNdrcpRpIOSJMs9c82w9WRnkekl4hbSge4gp2D3TIGQ6PG_-2bkW3b0bN_nVSjU7zOOtcvYdkil_a8N05xvcrywARlc_QWOAiSpWqSt8s5w/s400/MVI_3205.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593990966110402978" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >I don't know if it's obvious in these photos, but it was suddenly obvious to me. These WERE hummingbirds after all!<br /></span><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwMyyyBi37C2bYeEVxTNR8FFD7xabLY7UgTedwTFxZWTRco6uVRDNT3eGHN2a8yQJzoh31RSTJZ0UqL1YUGkdxZ7RoaDZqUnwi9iENjGVGQ6BqapCEPcryukpjz-SJ8kYUoBDalJKAOru/s1600/MVI_3205-1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwMyyyBi37C2bYeEVxTNR8FFD7xabLY7UgTedwTFxZWTRco6uVRDNT3eGHN2a8yQJzoh31RSTJZ0UqL1YUGkdxZ7RoaDZqUnwi9iENjGVGQ6BqapCEPcryukpjz-SJ8kYUoBDalJKAOru/s400/MVI_3205-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593978072245110754" border="0" /></a></span></h2><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">He didn't fly for very long. </span><span style="font-size:100%;">After just a few moments of hovering, he returned to his post and resumed staring up at his "wife" in the nest. </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Luckily, this time he positioned himself so he was facing me, and I could see that he did indeed have a dark patch on his throat. I knew enough about hummingbirds to recognize this as his "gorget," and to suspect that in direct light it would flash amazingly bright and beautiful. Whether it flashed red, purple or pink might help me recognize this species when I got my hands on a field guide. But, there was no hope of direct sunlight here inside this bush.</span></h2><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghG0o3HGNzXuPN8kyV2PRKc2myETeyd9ZkJHNFyQSnRuj6q703rkq9V5LhVJE3ISISNNbl6_461jiNi0aSXidVTh0R25oHPhEb6fyourwGR8kK-vZBrvEm2rSjMNLAAHHTdXnC6wei9xy_/s1600/IMG_3211.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghG0o3HGNzXuPN8kyV2PRKc2myETeyd9ZkJHNFyQSnRuj6q703rkq9V5LhVJE3ISISNNbl6_461jiNi0aSXidVTh0R25oHPhEb6fyourwGR8kK-vZBrvEm2rSjMNLAAHHTdXnC6wei9xy_/s400/IMG_3211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593978078335295874" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Then, suddenly...the real excitement began! A third hummingbird arrived! This one must have been a different species, because it was brightly colored. It swept into the bush and flitted around aggressively, flipping the bright white tips of his tail and showing off his deep red throat patch!<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4tChErx6zK0Uhrc3m8wpI0HOQ4CT5cT-0nUZ0NbiWf8X36n2fkmIwwxwBN5pDEwRpC20icpdqY2nOMUFI5LpFtKbqTW_Qr2NB8bkoxOY80ErMiq02IthyL4yknYCDj_gNaTEV7daORmz/s1600/MVI_3209-6.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4tChErx6zK0Uhrc3m8wpI0HOQ4CT5cT-0nUZ0NbiWf8X36n2fkmIwwxwBN5pDEwRpC20icpdqY2nOMUFI5LpFtKbqTW_Qr2NB8bkoxOY80ErMiq02IthyL4yknYCDj_gNaTEV7daORmz/s400/MVI_3209-6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593979997035289570" border="0" /></a></span></h2><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mrs. Littlebrownhummer didn't move from her nest, but her husband lifted nervously off the branch and buzzed around the interloper until he backed off!<br /></span></h2><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdd5rrHXVbBfpmBf8hJCAStqcbE3JBzFfQWI0miNOpfpP1piAINO4vnATwPw1Aonbyu2Yj9rLwvsPYE_YIAAHd4lOYO9rErZUrgfaZyML0QI7aDT7NycAyOtGWaiJxAYyzPvVYF-hj2jzG/s1600/MVI_3209.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdd5rrHXVbBfpmBf8hJCAStqcbE3JBzFfQWI0miNOpfpP1piAINO4vnATwPw1Aonbyu2Yj9rLwvsPYE_YIAAHd4lOYO9rErZUrgfaZyML0QI7aDT7NycAyOtGWaiJxAYyzPvVYF-hj2jzG/s400/MVI_3209.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593979991600536066" border="0" /></a></span></h2><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">He didn't leave completely. He settled down on a different bush at the other end of the window. But he didn't come near the little brown pair again after that.</span></h2><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeowMaNXRv-f7EwzuBRINpEBikRtrMJ3MRxLstyc82ZINpebeLRYqU0D7V-6zBsaMmeIAd2NQEFj_oYG1aLBY1VW4nSDZo40Nf2hL5hiEIdttaqErYv633_Np4cyLruyyWex1zbbkovzFQ/s1600/IMG_3222.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeowMaNXRv-f7EwzuBRINpEBikRtrMJ3MRxLstyc82ZINpebeLRYqU0D7V-6zBsaMmeIAd2NQEFj_oYG1aLBY1VW4nSDZo40Nf2hL5hiEIdttaqErYv633_Np4cyLruyyWex1zbbkovzFQ/s400/IMG_3222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593987908987075442" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Then, he flew straight up from the bush and into the air. I was able to get some lovely shots of him siloutted against the morning sky. (I was only going to post one of these photos here, but all 5 turned out and I just can't decide which one is best. Anyway, all together they really show how amazing the hummingbird's wing design is. No other bird flies like this! When early Spanish explorers first encountered them in the "New World" they described them as a cross between an insect and a bird!)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcJ7SCij3Xo49vrw3BT1yTo1vTzAaI-54ZDPjOV1zfv89Baai48ix3zPzIQaX2TlKdrDRyQ_oDVD-2k4fSEfKDG068xnqAbQQ4lmE5E_S1P56aPuEa1Kciq6HT0QJY0tguyWEvzRzXoH_G/s1600/MVI_3209-10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcJ7SCij3Xo49vrw3BT1yTo1vTzAaI-54ZDPjOV1zfv89Baai48ix3zPzIQaX2TlKdrDRyQ_oDVD-2k4fSEfKDG068xnqAbQQ4lmE5E_S1P56aPuEa1Kciq6HT0QJY0tguyWEvzRzXoH_G/s400/MVI_3209-10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593977171844797618" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbh3FshvppYKXl-2fkxbiUVAZGnCNjB7MWEoX1jCSfkolYfBBCfKI3dKPyW5_zc843A-mfcIex4ZDlwx4jI4WdGhloI22OPwh2UYusSErrcczwzHqXx-zpOD-Em6V7-3luw-DGZhntkwK/s1600/MVI_3209-8.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbh3FshvppYKXl-2fkxbiUVAZGnCNjB7MWEoX1jCSfkolYfBBCfKI3dKPyW5_zc843A-mfcIex4ZDlwx4jI4WdGhloI22OPwh2UYusSErrcczwzHqXx-zpOD-Em6V7-3luw-DGZhntkwK/s400/MVI_3209-8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593977168364088658" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-t3xrO5Oh1xxtIpnk8utcayvMJ9GBELp_dgCcTVmx9rDzPBb4URxOw4owNbWjBSz7z1TcvcALIjmt02T1WhUdCgEfHmdofBn4mLQF6K2T0J2zvzjLis2lOKvHF7aVb7JCoCcaTynyheYT/s1600/MVI_3209-9.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-t3xrO5Oh1xxtIpnk8utcayvMJ9GBELp_dgCcTVmx9rDzPBb4URxOw4owNbWjBSz7z1TcvcALIjmt02T1WhUdCgEfHmdofBn4mLQF6K2T0J2zvzjLis2lOKvHF7aVb7JCoCcaTynyheYT/s400/MVI_3209-9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593977173872733826" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9TpKfJgYN6OvXCXap6b-Y2YDnzYE5NzGQCJAPBbKGiVejUy1P3MhKNyQSJ0nZfLFw5FAMM7L42hYGAVRQNIWy7mrTfzAXWiWcmy8rmEwnJuiZE5Xn_T9Swr4PckqwxAg2AbmFDmRSv8Ji/s1600/MVI_3209-11.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9TpKfJgYN6OvXCXap6b-Y2YDnzYE5NzGQCJAPBbKGiVejUy1P3MhKNyQSJ0nZfLFw5FAMM7L42hYGAVRQNIWy7mrTfzAXWiWcmy8rmEwnJuiZE5Xn_T9Swr4PckqwxAg2AbmFDmRSv8Ji/s400/MVI_3209-11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593977174362535602" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqoyLkfn-G8SPDK2pk4WvA82rDs2DmjPGAQ3epGTGb5qTK6pAT2mPXOJG8Qid88pQHsG5khP4HQA_mwFKEkYVfaDMADY4osnVx0ZC7zCdZFkbXudtH173ZsUrvGmAQpuhP0qu4juYIiXF5/s1600/MVI_3209-7.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqoyLkfn-G8SPDK2pk4WvA82rDs2DmjPGAQ3epGTGb5qTK6pAT2mPXOJG8Qid88pQHsG5khP4HQA_mwFKEkYVfaDMADY4osnVx0ZC7zCdZFkbXudtH173ZsUrvGmAQpuhP0qu4juYIiXF5/s400/MVI_3209-7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593977161575227154" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Wow! What a morning! Thank goodness my internet conked out and I showed up early!</span><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">After the invader flew away, things calmed down for my little pair. She continued to sit in the nest. He continued to watch and protect her. I stared at them for a while longer, then I went to the talk. (It was easy to find and I was right on time for it.)</span></h2><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >And the minute it ended, I marched back to my window to visit my new friends. You'll never guess what I saw!<br /><br />My two hummingbirds were cuddled up in that tiny nest, together! I could hardly imagine how they both fit int here, but they obviously managed somehow.<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1xyaF2auqus_ME7xjsvy2bamrjqa3lyJfTbqqppdxhQsP_Msqw23CXaEB2VxRAbPl0VSrdlgL-EzYxoBPsvGWOi3xjIynQYhJfehOordhEib2pxBz1sOV-XUyRJtdtCApSLtLWTZ0HJ1/s1600/IMG_3226.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1xyaF2auqus_ME7xjsvy2bamrjqa3lyJfTbqqppdxhQsP_Msqw23CXaEB2VxRAbPl0VSrdlgL-EzYxoBPsvGWOi3xjIynQYhJfehOordhEib2pxBz1sOV-XUyRJtdtCApSLtLWTZ0HJ1/s400/IMG_3226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593980002279720914" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >They seemed especially happy and contents in there together. They took turns grooming their feathers (their own, not each others.) I think they took turns because if they both started stretching their wings out and craning their necks around at the same time, they might have fallen out.<br /><br />They also spent a lot of time flicking their incredibly long, skinny tongues in and out of their long, skinny beaks.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgxZN39stfUfBq6glyxTqEYUWAg6bdaSdWlFyqCCb6bt9TNh0Kng7Rmex4D6fHERal1wBXbmeXwW5CmZwsDtqWOR14o7NAVuid3Ouh2IJgBAt47aUJs7Qs8B2s6jZiBMdHV-3wnC9Dib5/s1600/MVI_3230-4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgxZN39stfUfBq6glyxTqEYUWAg6bdaSdWlFyqCCb6bt9TNh0Kng7Rmex4D6fHERal1wBXbmeXwW5CmZwsDtqWOR14o7NAVuid3Ouh2IJgBAt47aUJs7Qs8B2s6jZiBMdHV-3wnC9Dib5/s400/MVI_3230-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593994250226523378" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidMDCKxa2JEN88zVd77BaMx9quAmtXDMVwKzrSnAg4ZsUeg42m8ACF9J5niJdNFE0YZEP0aQ49KWjhHXCWMDGkHPQg0Gsgh4uLfOs3Oz4jgJBCRQFfMHvyVXJHsH-B-kORN4BZrK03MtT/s1600/MVI_3230-3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidMDCKxa2JEN88zVd77BaMx9quAmtXDMVwKzrSnAg4ZsUeg42m8ACF9J5niJdNFE0YZEP0aQ49KWjhHXCWMDGkHPQg0Gsgh4uLfOs3Oz4jgJBCRQFfMHvyVXJHsH-B-kORN4BZrK03MtT/s400/MVI_3230-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593994245718446178" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Could you see that? Here's a closer shot.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sylWO8K283OnvO4OSUqz44riiiGc68ui60dMHHuXVI5KsKruOcHg8aBg4CQMuIdoFKm21_9uxFo0ScAS1Dv-ExzF9Ci-iQkrlWwj9SvS2HUAOyeidTWlHhYXXbxVzdAjT6w8twFU1Clg/s1600/MVI_3230-7.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sylWO8K283OnvO4OSUqz44riiiGc68ui60dMHHuXVI5KsKruOcHg8aBg4CQMuIdoFKm21_9uxFo0ScAS1Dv-ExzF9Ci-iQkrlWwj9SvS2HUAOyeidTWlHhYXXbxVzdAjT6w8twFU1Clg/s400/MVI_3230-7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593994251408239266" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYbCJmQfq2K_oU1017CGbB3tEEQsydO9F4rr214yE-Nm7Vmi2GEdpoJGUwPiRrs07eCEMaBQ_eQR_wZx_RMcbGxGVChou3T0bbxFRo4pKeMoYXsFyNenUDc6oGMnzOD3cvWPLe7vtD3Qv/s1600/MVI_3230-8.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYbCJmQfq2K_oU1017CGbB3tEEQsydO9F4rr214yE-Nm7Vmi2GEdpoJGUwPiRrs07eCEMaBQ_eQR_wZx_RMcbGxGVChou3T0bbxFRo4pKeMoYXsFyNenUDc6oGMnzOD3cvWPLe7vtD3Qv/s400/MVI_3230-8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593994253260997330" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Well, as fascinating as these birds were, I eventually left and went home. But I didn't forget about them.<br /><br />First, I looked in my guide books. Next, I researched on line. Then, I talked to some local hummingbird experts. Then, I looked on-line some more and through my books again. Here is what I've learned is probably true:<br /><br />These were not a mated pair. They were a couple of babies who had just recently gotten big enough to start flying on their own. The "agressive male interloper" that had worried me so much was actually their mother, stopping by to check on them. They brown ones didn't have any color because they are so young. Judging from the mother's plumage, they are both Anna's Hummingbirds, our most common species here in SLO county.<br /><br />How did I figure this out? For one, adult males don't have anything to do with nests or eggs. They certainly don't get inside them! Two, the only explanation for the lack of color on these guys is that they are very young. Three, the fledglings in this video look very similar to the ones I saw.<br /><br />It's a great video that someone took of a nest on their porch in San Diego. My favorite part is Day 24. I hope you watch it.<br /><br /></span><h2 style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gG59PaCiiDg</span></h2><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />Also, I hope remember, as I will try to do from now on, that there are always several different ways to interpret any situation. And, the most obvious one is not always the right one!<br /><br /><br /></span>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-33730925526082713612011-04-03T10:52:00.000-07:002011-04-10T10:15:04.203-07:00Suddenly StripesI love going up to San Simeon. I love the tide pools, the Coastal Discovery Center, Hearst Castle and the Elephant Seals. For all those reasons, I've been up there more times than I can count. At each visit, I enjoy the view of rolling hills and open fields that belong to Hearst Castle, Hearst Ranch and the Hearst Corporation. I had heard that there were zebra roaming the property, but I had never seen them.<br /><br />This past Friday, while K's brother and sister-in-law were visiting us from Virginia, the four of us took the castle tour together. Apparently, I had never even mentioned the existence of the zebra to K, why would I? According to my own experience, the exotic herd was only theoretical. But from the minute pre-recorded tour bus cd announced their possible presence, K decided "I want to see the zebra!"<br /><br />She must have made that announcement half a dozen times on the way from the castle's winding road to the public highway. I tried not to discourage her or mention how rare zebra sightings were. But privately I thought, "maybe we will see the zebra <span style="font-style: italic;">sometime</span> in the next few years if we keep coming up here regularly, but probably not today."<br /><br />And then suddenly, their stripey butts appeared on the hillside!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4uFsd6hAM7lsLeaZgeV-k_fpUhOsFb8VkJMQtVLrtOKgtdDaVWxo0d8hTR88mR4PGq5wmxyOb94a_XNNQyOd84G-7BjklJhT6yVHgZDr5rD_bdSPk_x3dHBsivP2n1a2JbA7nBge3ZN_2/s1600/IMG_3144.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4uFsd6hAM7lsLeaZgeV-k_fpUhOsFb8VkJMQtVLrtOKgtdDaVWxo0d8hTR88mR4PGq5wmxyOb94a_XNNQyOd84G-7BjklJhT6yVHgZDr5rD_bdSPk_x3dHBsivP2n1a2JbA7nBge3ZN_2/s400/IMG_3144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591421460971342066" border="0" /></a><br />Actually, while we still speeding along in the car, it was difficult to tell that they were stripey. If we hadn't known about the zebras...if K hadn't been EXPECTING to see them, we might not have noticed them at all. We might have assumed they were horses, or even cattle.<br /><br />Once we were standing on the hillside, the black and white pattern was obvious. But they were still too far away to make out the details, or get a very good picture.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9FyITA1zBkBJtAITvPkBjS1HA506aLl-jCNr1ByrljdEZjmYlvej23iHhzXSBoVxwXiLujd_7CfhjWhyphenhyphenZ8H1ImS3QNlCVqCU9eJ03nAMtqt9vY3JkakFNIPalfOxEUlhL1e1YDipLKEU/s1600/IMG_3147.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9FyITA1zBkBJtAITvPkBjS1HA506aLl-jCNr1ByrljdEZjmYlvej23iHhzXSBoVxwXiLujd_7CfhjWhyphenhyphenZ8H1ImS3QNlCVqCU9eJ03nAMtqt9vY3JkakFNIPalfOxEUlhL1e1YDipLKEU/s400/IMG_3147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591421465968537938" border="0" /></a><br />Thankfully, since I became obsessed with identifying the local birds, I almost never leave the house without viewing assistance. So, we were able to see them very well through our binoculars, and even take a picture through them.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ORRxwChdjisE7Ounwfg0IPLCvduGAl-Iuz5xdepuQTokZt9KopT_0_R5V40NJxAOmT5teF8Roi054goABAojcO1xHJvpGYNCu2Accyt4BlCQZ5BrgJkaAvhhm2-AzVCftPTM3PUy8cRj/s1600/IMG_3153.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ORRxwChdjisE7Ounwfg0IPLCvduGAl-Iuz5xdepuQTokZt9KopT_0_R5V40NJxAOmT5teF8Roi054goABAojcO1xHJvpGYNCu2Accyt4BlCQZ5BrgJkaAvhhm2-AzVCftPTM3PUy8cRj/s400/IMG_3153.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591421470289919442" border="0" /></a><br />I didn't think photographing through the magnifying lenses would work, but it did. It took two people, though...one to hold the glasses still against the top of a fence post and the other to hold the camera at just the right distance from the eyepiece. With this careful arrangement, we were even able to apply the zoom. We ended up getting this pretty decent picture!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1cLVTe7RVEpoPj7XaSK398TpfU_bHOfdisdj7F4pfOLkaFVkvFt3isruKT42V7z8AfIYCXAnEGlfFewwQLuQhk1LlIM8iI40xqUOJdLfDyImWHb-DZ_gGfIFdOi-jo-cx8gVp_1W_-dI/s1600/IMG_3155.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1cLVTe7RVEpoPj7XaSK398TpfU_bHOfdisdj7F4pfOLkaFVkvFt3isruKT42V7z8AfIYCXAnEGlfFewwQLuQhk1LlIM8iI40xqUOJdLfDyImWHb-DZ_gGfIFdOi-jo-cx8gVp_1W_-dI/s400/IMG_3155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591421472186518978" border="0" /></a><br />In total, we counted 43 animals. There are only about 80 in the whole heard. That sounds like a lot of zebra...but when you see forty-odd standing along the hillside, it doesn't seem like very many at all. It's difficult to believe that just under double the number we saw is enough to create a self-sustaining wild population.<br /><br />I felt very lucky to see them. And even luckier to finish our day with a nice supper at Linn's restaurant in Cambria and a decadent desert that seemed to be inspired by our exotic friends.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8NUMqsMqW-DYsoY7mCvBIzbCul9HJ7pamTCm2R1L2hSALJXk_XtGXucpvz8wBWCdgNsY4aS7kuuS42DySzqsj_C007ruqTmviHoaIS4w6qAPAljAoPwlwtLVV5xAlRrxqG3ms97_fpYq/s1600/IMG_3164.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8NUMqsMqW-DYsoY7mCvBIzbCul9HJ7pamTCm2R1L2hSALJXk_XtGXucpvz8wBWCdgNsY4aS7kuuS42DySzqsj_C007ruqTmviHoaIS4w6qAPAljAoPwlwtLVV5xAlRrxqG3ms97_fpYq/s400/IMG_3164.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591421477769027202" border="0" /></a>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-87163349862071639932011-03-26T05:29:00.000-07:002011-03-27T07:30:15.170-07:00In Addition To The SharkI wrote a little already about the fun times we had when our good friend D. and his three amazing kids came to visit us last week. There's no way I can write about everything else in as much detail as I did about my few scary seconds facing down that leopard shark. But, I do want to give a little summary of our other activities. We did SO much in a few days.<br /><br />Of course, we went to the beach. The water was too cold for actually getting in and playing in the waves. But that was no surprise, it's ALWAYS too cold. Some visitors don't quite want to believe this, but it's true. Even in August...you will want a wet suit.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCLmP4CCBg2l_yLkukIVY-3oz3TNP4iD0_dxHMEbRu674jXuVzpHBMRSKcCyrdRY4G21mjJo-VoPWKs5aTiwWz_oW4HIxH144UcUgZOfTja9znGpSBdRH1OzFpeFe3eZyD5xT7NAzRPhmL/s1600/IMG_2562.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCLmP4CCBg2l_yLkukIVY-3oz3TNP4iD0_dxHMEbRu674jXuVzpHBMRSKcCyrdRY4G21mjJo-VoPWKs5aTiwWz_oW4HIxH144UcUgZOfTja9znGpSBdRH1OzFpeFe3eZyD5xT7NAzRPhmL/s400/IMG_2562.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588371115074926210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But one doesn't need to get into the ocean in order to enjoy it. We had an awfully good time exploring Spooner's Cove in the Montana de Oro and eating a picnic supper at the public access area off the 24th St. exit in Cayucos.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLcsamnbLGAbPN8fc3U6juK1JF0Kit0UoG5zWlbJbyyR5Jbf-iMx3DKfBbcN5bI0SU7W0wgzx5Xrm6oeYwphUlHa7lCytFi-j1-FtRh4svcAG68q_V2WC4I8mmkkn7gbv3hN_Xa-EpEh5/s1600/IMG_2686.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLcsamnbLGAbPN8fc3U6juK1JF0Kit0UoG5zWlbJbyyR5Jbf-iMx3DKfBbcN5bI0SU7W0wgzx5Xrm6oeYwphUlHa7lCytFi-j1-FtRh4svcAG68q_V2WC4I8mmkkn7gbv3hN_Xa-EpEh5/s400/IMG_2686.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588371116809252034" border="0" /></a><br />And here is something we learned: Don't ever let guests leave the house without bringing along<br /><br />1. towels<br />2. a jug of warm water to wash sand off with<br />3. dry sock, shoes and pants.<br /><br />This is especially true if there are kids in the party. I can't remember how many times we went somewhere thinking we would just take a walk along a pretty stretch of oceanfront...and ended up with soggy, gritty, tooth-chattering children.<br /><br /><br />One of the only adventures we all managed to stay dry and warm for was on the day we headed inland to see Karen at work, and the Cal Poly campus. It is such great school to visit. The buildings and landscaping are beautiful. Interesting events are happening all the time. And, because it is a polytechnic school with a motto of "learn by doing," the campus itself is surrounded by land devoted to student projects. Most of it is agricultural: orchards, crop fields and livestock, or viti-cultural: vineyards and a winery. But my favorite project is the architecture trail.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPj2chSkbumoTF5MzqW4BdKZUqzaaae2fg4bsAEWKgqiQWo4RteZYNzLOgecfbTY-Y5qe4JZejU7phkjHtIUw5aY0Obb8s9yCSc4byoh0Ax4xNKnG_oQZ7L52XDwxVTgkxojkkK4f5alOJ/s1600/tripod.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPj2chSkbumoTF5MzqW4BdKZUqzaaae2fg4bsAEWKgqiQWo4RteZYNzLOgecfbTY-Y5qe4JZejU7phkjHtIUw5aY0Obb8s9yCSc4byoh0Ax4xNKnG_oQZ7L52XDwxVTgkxojkkK4f5alOJ/s400/tripod.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588376504052868194" border="0" /></a><br /><br />During the 70's...and maybe into the 80's, I'm not exactly sure...engineering and architecture students built a dozen or so structures along one of the hillsides in Poly Canyon. Some of them seem to demonstrate just one or two principles of construction theory. For example, there is a raised platform using what looks to me like a tri-pod and cable suspension. And another that creates a shaded space using some technique reminiscent of the white roof peaks at the Denver International Airport. But several are complete buildings with roofs and walls, windows and doors. There is even a house with people living in it! I really wonder about who they are and why they get to live in this amazing location.<br /><br />It's not just the student projects that make this place so special. The canyon itself is magical, with live oak trees spreading into the sky and a rolling carpet of fresh grass covering acres and acres of gentle hills.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBVXZW9-rsztm7mm7YQmCuoIvaV1tAAKbkG0jrnykWZZNq159LwwypKaPwUBG5EuigTxkttiID0jTrucSF9WOxXNwRtc-H8aYc5jRwf8osLa9jW8L7oG3gUqHq8n166TUedsG_xsL18F4A/s1600/hillside+girl.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBVXZW9-rsztm7mm7YQmCuoIvaV1tAAKbkG0jrnykWZZNq159LwwypKaPwUBG5EuigTxkttiID0jTrucSF9WOxXNwRtc-H8aYc5jRwf8osLa9jW8L7oG3gUqHq8n166TUedsG_xsL18F4A/s400/hillside+girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588377786922957938" border="0" /></a><br />This is typical of my feelings for the Central Coast. I love the things that people do...the public art, the farmers' markets, the drive-in movie theater... but the real treasures are the land itself, and the water that meets it, and the living things that thrive there. So far, all of our out-of-state visitors seem to feel the same way, and the H family was no exception.<br /><br />I know they were as delighted as we were to spot this young Bobcat strolling along the trails in the Montana de Oro State Park,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHChXnoT-Guw4bdELMcFHWzmKUgBiMhRE96z5_jzjIgVYHrAIDcl8dbc_w1oWTAmLvZtYQXwTmSx2TZmVzNdzhfPTmak2DnxU_AUs51T1BGhC8OW9X6v7ZxhHPjXYp5C5XOatZ-g2Pgfl/s1600/hbhb+bob+cat.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHChXnoT-Guw4bdELMcFHWzmKUgBiMhRE96z5_jzjIgVYHrAIDcl8dbc_w1oWTAmLvZtYQXwTmSx2TZmVzNdzhfPTmak2DnxU_AUs51T1BGhC8OW9X6v7ZxhHPjXYp5C5XOatZ-g2Pgfl/s400/hbhb+bob+cat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585793989124394098" border="0" /></a><br />this California Sea Otter floating on its back and playing with it's flippery feet and,<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zwhT_8S-EtoXQpu-OO_aL3QwD7IIzPjqNIrnN3YNb2pZ2DBTkucmO-awG-vpqAn-05UaoroPdBrV-3-Tx3htiA47hryxvxSPx965amE47FhOB9KcO2oxjqE5d6QXXcRp8aWhmZ6M7bFg/s1600/hbhb+otter+at+rock.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zwhT_8S-EtoXQpu-OO_aL3QwD7IIzPjqNIrnN3YNb2pZ2DBTkucmO-awG-vpqAn-05UaoroPdBrV-3-Tx3htiA47hryxvxSPx965amE47FhOB9KcO2oxjqE5d6QXXcRp8aWhmZ6M7bFg/s400/hbhb+otter+at+rock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585794535606572082" border="0" /></a><br />this beautiful Great Blue Heron slowly swallowing his fresh catch...even though it appears much to big for his slender neck!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtzwuLZVTn4ZHQGlXxgoeUf3FWf7lZ5x0bZE1RydNa1h3vz1Yv0oUXCMcwf3hPxDdU9Jhqa8n1UdAzdp-mHsfXQqGq5p9nkFORJU27PXJOh4tbQyC6k5j071AVAdrgspG6AnUuLNdNssA/s1600/IMG_2585.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtzwuLZVTn4ZHQGlXxgoeUf3FWf7lZ5x0bZE1RydNa1h3vz1Yv0oUXCMcwf3hPxDdU9Jhqa8n1UdAzdp-mHsfXQqGq5p9nkFORJU27PXJOh4tbQyC6k5j071AVAdrgspG6AnUuLNdNssA/s400/IMG_2585.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588763531851944114" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYhyyHHVGvthg7Gpa9gi5a-y5cdMK4h7CvpaWJMCFxN1m3OVLyDO61sJhJsA52XR7bV2YoVTsI9dhyCoIR8x8IzztK9F2fKf7Ppky9FxHvx5H3L-kH5TnjdZ78XsvberJwa4zEt30sdT7/s1600/IMG_2588.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYhyyHHVGvthg7Gpa9gi5a-y5cdMK4h7CvpaWJMCFxN1m3OVLyDO61sJhJsA52XR7bV2YoVTsI9dhyCoIR8x8IzztK9F2fKf7Ppky9FxHvx5H3L-kH5TnjdZ78XsvberJwa4zEt30sdT7/s400/IMG_2588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588763533605047458" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jD9mrDlvhYwgSpxW3S-HFF2C1epY5uCmqQx0UGZGFKoLnart6hy8FN40EQst7SalV5RTaDYXrzyjBEUsk09-6ugfQD8PkdT3cs2yes29gMJWG15lHc367Avo9HUHk_vcQ5Jdzai4Rh5i/s1600/IMG_2592.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jD9mrDlvhYwgSpxW3S-HFF2C1epY5uCmqQx0UGZGFKoLnart6hy8FN40EQst7SalV5RTaDYXrzyjBEUsk09-6ugfQD8PkdT3cs2yes29gMJWG15lHc367Avo9HUHk_vcQ5Jdzai4Rh5i/s400/IMG_2592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588763536797530498" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Sadly, it was too late in the season to take them down to the Monarch Butterfly Grove in Pismo. All the monarchs have mated by now, and the females are busy spreading their eggs at milkweed plants all over California. And, while they did go up to see the Elephant Seals, they didn't see much but some fat babies lounging around in the sand. Soon they will get hungry enough to start teaching themselves to swim in the shallow water. That might be fun to watch, but for the moment there's just not much activity happening up there. All the adults are already out to sea, hunting and eating.<br /><br />But tide-pooling at San Simeon is fun any time of year, as long as you go the right time of day. We did, and we saw all the usual wonders including:<br /><br />Bat Stars,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53Wm6AGu9HJ6lf7IXM4E5q9fUHe6uQOSUfQNW0Q_ufn3JxyiRlYkFQ4sq1ROU0MlKlzBmE0jwuRCWInqqwbT9bKXcwG2xMi9El9odkTnsmxY4Uw1TfXnvXhKmrgsy4L2xbHWGG1eNnx5J/s1600/BAT+STAR.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53Wm6AGu9HJ6lf7IXM4E5q9fUHe6uQOSUfQNW0Q_ufn3JxyiRlYkFQ4sq1ROU0MlKlzBmE0jwuRCWInqqwbT9bKXcwG2xMi9El9odkTnsmxY4Uw1TfXnvXhKmrgsy4L2xbHWGG1eNnx5J/s400/BAT+STAR.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585793507369856194" border="0" /></a><br />Green Anemones,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidHZ3uFfYimR4W2R5A-XupZxkZIF3BchGmFaoxIENxBG4fSpBOwxLM8SI0jyNZYb-OIt_RgPd6oA8pARlmZhWcw6bW9CEL1xHmri8NHsNjuQ_nmzmScKypu6ZTeXJGpy89LnV1KPP_dZNn/s1600/Anemone.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidHZ3uFfYimR4W2R5A-XupZxkZIF3BchGmFaoxIENxBG4fSpBOwxLM8SI0jyNZYb-OIt_RgPd6oA8pARlmZhWcw6bW9CEL1xHmri8NHsNjuQ_nmzmScKypu6ZTeXJGpy89LnV1KPP_dZNn/s400/Anemone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585793502040153602" border="0" /></a><br />Gooseneck Barnacles,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64XBAC9IGH-M7gD_mhsRduPTFbqi4qA3SZwPgOIakKrNWbbIqlfhhktKPSXZAXk7Q-cRe1htgl0xw-oguUmzqpILKOK7XHRQGANwvcdL3NMLVyJh87PXMHt9AOqQr9TNe6cgGeIcE7npA/s1600/Gooseneck+Barnacle.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64XBAC9IGH-M7gD_mhsRduPTFbqi4qA3SZwPgOIakKrNWbbIqlfhhktKPSXZAXk7Q-cRe1htgl0xw-oguUmzqpILKOK7XHRQGANwvcdL3NMLVyJh87PXMHt9AOqQr9TNe6cgGeIcE7npA/s400/Gooseneck+Barnacle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585793979170948754" border="0" /></a><br />and Acorn Barnacles.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbzKN0uFsAZbsKrH66ex0PMvVhE7DOUcji_yqhZHQl2HnK3xVqp3uUvhQ0KM-_OoZlURbH5pZ0qktcwIGUO1ToXb1tgJfob05T7hB7v62x8BPDf-CG2a8EOBJ7NtHg8nfUWR6C__ZMh2n8/s1600/Acorn+Barnacles.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbzKN0uFsAZbsKrH66ex0PMvVhE7DOUcji_yqhZHQl2HnK3xVqp3uUvhQ0KM-_OoZlURbH5pZ0qktcwIGUO1ToXb1tgJfob05T7hB7v62x8BPDf-CG2a8EOBJ7NtHg8nfUWR6C__ZMh2n8/s400/Acorn+Barnacles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585793499603835474" border="0" /></a><br />As usual, I also saw one brand new creature that I'd never seen before. A teeny tiny baby sea star! Look how little and perfect it is!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTj4sbtw_9rnwAwWBH_BnVjuamqSAsHjsxLPSCG1OvbnrJb9BOxdeLQf9DOXVai84GamrFrO9sc9LtVi15O58H8loAk8nJ7smWoh-2dtkrcQ8T8z7djtouCY11205qJ-rJ9NIJ7WBpu39/s1600/hbhb+tiny+sea+star.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTj4sbtw_9rnwAwWBH_BnVjuamqSAsHjsxLPSCG1OvbnrJb9BOxdeLQf9DOXVai84GamrFrO9sc9LtVi15O58H8loAk8nJ7smWoh-2dtkrcQ8T8z7djtouCY11205qJ-rJ9NIJ7WBpu39/s400/hbhb+tiny+sea+star.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585794544070333442" border="0" /></a><br />Actually, I don't know for certain that it is a baby sea star, and not some kind of permanently diminutive species...but it seems like a baby. They must start out little at some point, right? I mean, they don't just appear on the rocks fully formed and fully sized. And furthermore, I can't find any teeny tiny sea stars in my field guides.<br /><br />Also as usual, we were in San Simeon at the wrong day and time for visiting the Coastal Discovery Center. But we did manage to visit the Nature Museum, back in Morro Bay. No matter how many times I visit that place, I always see something I haven't noticed before. This time, I was shocked to realize there was a stuffed brown pelican floating just over the arch that separates the museum from the gift shop. I must have walked right under it twenty times, and never looked up to notice.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QErLDZJd25rMIoxxgwdb4kCeWYz4Pej_owhpr0Re6DWsKYQgtDzvm52A1RgrDskjZD8YQbnwLUcCpxa-cp_z4DTuF1nzm-a-v4rv-ZUhpNpL_lv6GoaLr8qhbmQqMbamMcjMb_1_sOSd/s1600/hbhb+museum+brown+pelican.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QErLDZJd25rMIoxxgwdb4kCeWYz4Pej_owhpr0Re6DWsKYQgtDzvm52A1RgrDskjZD8YQbnwLUcCpxa-cp_z4DTuF1nzm-a-v4rv-ZUhpNpL_lv6GoaLr8qhbmQqMbamMcjMb_1_sOSd/s400/hbhb+museum+brown+pelican.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585793996656147602" border="0" /></a><br />Also, this visit, I spent a good deal of time studying this map which shows the location of the deeper channels in the back bay. Maybe next time I go canoeing I can use this information to keep from getting stuck!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlh6DwkGhgimAPcHOkV9bHeeUIojmhMQy6c7yv1vXy-2Y_h9zFoa5znyq2DmKgxKPNZGksfXeS4ig7HWBQEVMHtP5u4lqe5ZI_dNpOrkDsYcDvPSdaBkwmL6FfM9w45Y_Sq_zWBRUB15C/s1600/IMG_2717.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlh6DwkGhgimAPcHOkV9bHeeUIojmhMQy6c7yv1vXy-2Y_h9zFoa5znyq2DmKgxKPNZGksfXeS4ig7HWBQEVMHtP5u4lqe5ZI_dNpOrkDsYcDvPSdaBkwmL6FfM9w45Y_Sq_zWBRUB15C/s400/IMG_2717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588758969246953010" border="0" /></a><br />Of course, the whole time they were here with us, I tried to remember to bring my camera with me everywhere and take lots of pictures. Even though I often don't feel like taking them, I know I'll enjoy having them later. But when this visit was over, I had something even better than photos to look at! The kids worked together to make this wonderful drawing. It's kind of like a giant 2-dimensional charm bracelet, covered with beautiful little tokens of our wonderful vacations together.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmPYiGaUN9rl8-xw0rhO4fXi5dynY4e7wadNlQI8TIkx7dCKzhGIhJ3P2lEW2Hxmzf1uOz9aBSJ5e1HgBwU3VuHBNGtqcKt27-zh2vloh6UrMlMA9Fh78s8mJFTfmnHrjKUwtBMLQaVm1/s1600/hbhb+picture+diary.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmPYiGaUN9rl8-xw0rhO4fXi5dynY4e7wadNlQI8TIkx7dCKzhGIhJ3P2lEW2Hxmzf1uOz9aBSJ5e1HgBwU3VuHBNGtqcKt27-zh2vloh6UrMlMA9Fh78s8mJFTfmnHrjKUwtBMLQaVm1/s400/hbhb+picture+diary.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588368637652500050" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It's hard to pick favorites, but I want to show you just a few of the drawings up-close. Here are:<br /><br />the kayak I was in when<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuOXItNcKcs6yDId5wCJziI-c0a74pHIlf_sZKSBWVDc2hEgRoD_QgZN_TKIO1AM7FIjJ3e19TkF6X3OYpxlTDxZrq8RQH0jh2Bi4jv7mPRDRT_sACxi2kCtU57BQ1BMP6FAZItNhSovL/s1600/hbhb+kayak+picture.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuOXItNcKcs6yDId5wCJziI-c0a74pHIlf_sZKSBWVDc2hEgRoD_QgZN_TKIO1AM7FIjJ3e19TkF6X3OYpxlTDxZrq8RQH0jh2Bi4jv7mPRDRT_sACxi2kCtU57BQ1BMP6FAZItNhSovL/s400/hbhb+kayak+picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588368618966245298" border="0" /></a><br /><br />the shark came at me, and<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2EZofCDJStgbdQKkkQe9XcdeS70LOYBfh3NKJlXUPMjdNBa-_cyt28YnXqrANpPy8cNx7aYy_ofbVr7lKNxsoHQjsAPtIZKN6Vy4uqOCIQgukPE45nLQOv3ryTW1bK4Oz-JXPrr1zCVz/s1600/hbhb+shark+picture.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2EZofCDJStgbdQKkkQe9XcdeS70LOYBfh3NKJlXUPMjdNBa-_cyt28YnXqrANpPy8cNx7aYy_ofbVr7lKNxsoHQjsAPtIZKN6Vy4uqOCIQgukPE45nLQOv3ryTW1bK4Oz-JXPrr1zCVz/s400/hbhb+shark+picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588368631307572866" border="0" /></a><br /><br />one of the California Sea Otters we saw down by The Rock.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_aBt2bHgXklyy1rx2b4HdffhLpKzBasvf-5papzYmD3sAswklYmSl2gQGxG6n3Wjc50AJFVf966ImU7BvhloZHtE5HJmNizQPfhZ9EPrlsAfzwOdrwnBDg4L9FZDGgO5AyjDB5h6MNuT/s1600/hbhb+otter+picture.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 341px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_aBt2bHgXklyy1rx2b4HdffhLpKzBasvf-5papzYmD3sAswklYmSl2gQGxG6n3Wjc50AJFVf966ImU7BvhloZHtE5HJmNizQPfhZ9EPrlsAfzwOdrwnBDg4L9FZDGgO5AyjDB5h6MNuT/s400/hbhb+otter+picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588368621602334738" border="0" /></a><br />I just love how much they were able to communicate with just a few crayon lines. I mean, look at this one. It's tiny (that's why it's kind of blurry in this blown-up version.) And it's just a few simple shapes. But anyone who has been up to Hearst Castle can recognize it immediately as the Neptune Pool!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOZ-FS-VRY6a5zGQD7KDg8v19T5pBS8nYE0Gs8Lzo-bun7yc2inQbZCt1oyai_3sPRxA-lYi-xoTCjXoxAzqBrBA2pGq_sDVuUfFrF4ITnFX4x4z-vIfg7u8BDzP0YTFY_XpDZZTsYH9d/s1600/hbhb+pool+picture.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOZ-FS-VRY6a5zGQD7KDg8v19T5pBS8nYE0Gs8Lzo-bun7yc2inQbZCt1oyai_3sPRxA-lYi-xoTCjXoxAzqBrBA2pGq_sDVuUfFrF4ITnFX4x4z-vIfg7u8BDzP0YTFY_XpDZZTsYH9d/s400/hbhb+pool+picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588766586513630258" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We were lucky to end up with it. A few hours before their departure, I overheard the kids discussing among themselves whether to leave it here or take it home with them. (It was incredibly difficult to keep my own mouth shut and let them come to a decision on their own!) Finally, they did decide to leave it and here's the reason why: so they can add to it during they next visit!<br /><br />I can hardly wait.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-19493888211626517782011-03-19T07:43:00.000-07:002011-04-10T07:15:16.051-07:00Can You Canoe?Last weekend, K and I went canoeing out in the back bay with some friends visiting from Pheonix.<br /><br />At Cuesta Inlet, where we planned to launch, the water looked pretty low. But, down at the water's edge, the mud wasn't more than a few inches deep, so I decided that the channel was probably deep enough to float the boat. K was doubtful, and suggested we drive over to the launch ramp in Morro Bay. But, I didn't want to do that. Boating over where all the sailboats are moored is fun, but I wanted to have the wilder experience of exploring the back bay on this particular day. Eventually, she decided to respect my judgment on the water level due to my "greater experience." Together, we got the canoe down from the roof of the van.<br /><br /><br />(This photo was taken on a different day, in Cayucos...NOT in on the dirt road at Cuesta Inlet. But, I wanted to show you how we rig the canoe for travelling to and from the water.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JH8DatizOnnTn5ADwsjQCxJluwEtTds4NrhQvlwh3CbhLlcFkdhifZ_kBTEsZlhlNyEf2YvUM4bttMcnc0ZIfq4URUqPv59pyO3UfDpyDW6ybmqH1_0tCN75ThMhFa0xHWXNlyJbTyao/s1600/hbhb+canoe+on+van.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JH8DatizOnnTn5ADwsjQCxJluwEtTds4NrhQvlwh3CbhLlcFkdhifZ_kBTEsZlhlNyEf2YvUM4bttMcnc0ZIfq4URUqPv59pyO3UfDpyDW6ybmqH1_0tCN75ThMhFa0xHWXNlyJbTyao/s400/hbhb+canoe+on+van.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585803672942884610" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It couldn't have taken more than 10 minutes. But, by the time we had everything unloaded and ready to launch, the water level had significantly changed. What had been a narrow, but useable channel, had shrunken to a muddy ribbon, barely big enough to float a rubber duckie.<br /><br />"This doesn't make sense," I protested! "Low tide was almost two hours ago. The tide should be coming IN right now!" At this point I remembered that the tide chart I was using was for the Pacific Coast of Southern California...not for the back end of Morro Bay. You might not think it, but the bay tide lags behind the ocean tide by almost an hour. And, the very back edge of the bay, where we were, probably lags behind even more than that.<br /><br />After considering our options, we decided NOT to pack it all back up and head over to the deep side with the paved ramp. Surely, we reasoned, this was as low as it was going to go. In a few minutes, it would fill back up and we could push out. Only moments after we came to that conclusion, water started rushing back into the inlet. In minutes, it was as full as it had been upon our arrival, and still rising. So all three kids and the other two adults piled into our big pink canoe and pushed off. I followed behind in a sea kayak we borrowed from our neighbor.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_Ur8kkvsDmoGyZBymwcZJP8rXVUUc1JkYzJ_G_5yN0w4scuroVKQiooN5m_k1bFFUqSAfwuarR_cUqgPLIHbpxNc-E_NUx5AIazgdcMFTmMzgWfR661vMuZu64xdV9dNrL8QZfBxO0BE/s1600/hbhb+first+canoe.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 373px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_Ur8kkvsDmoGyZBymwcZJP8rXVUUc1JkYzJ_G_5yN0w4scuroVKQiooN5m_k1bFFUqSAfwuarR_cUqgPLIHbpxNc-E_NUx5AIazgdcMFTmMzgWfR661vMuZu64xdV9dNrL8QZfBxO0BE/s400/hbhb+first+canoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585807248556002802" border="0" /></a><br />At first, it was magical. We floated along towards the wide open water, with the scuplted dunes of the sandspit beckoning in the distance. I knew there was a chance we might get stuck in the mud at some point, but I wasn't worried. Since the tide was coming in now, even if we did get stuck, all we would have to do would be wait a few minutes for the water to rise, and then continue on our journey.<br /><br />And that's exactly what I told everyone when, a few minutes after emerging from the inlet, we started scraping the bottom with our keels. It wasn't so bad, just sitting there for a moment, enjoying the view. It didn't get bad until we noticed that the water wasn't getting any deeper. It was getting shallower! Right before our eyes, our sheet of shining saltwater became a muddy marsh.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetTtDVf-hV5KnB2HBp5m768KvRMsoPKT3oeMhRT5-_4DB9BUOIKv1Q6rcmO9WQViD24Xh1A-NkREVoNo9kynXEae0YG1dtfsZAXjijJNz2aSCsGLD5RN7JFIt9hds18cN-t0VBb3emLdy/s1600/hbhb+muddy+marsh.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 366px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetTtDVf-hV5KnB2HBp5m768KvRMsoPKT3oeMhRT5-_4DB9BUOIKv1Q6rcmO9WQViD24Xh1A-NkREVoNo9kynXEae0YG1dtfsZAXjijJNz2aSCsGLD5RN7JFIt9hds18cN-t0VBb3emLdy/s400/hbhb+muddy+marsh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585807716261162466" border="0" /></a><br />We really weren't that far from solid ground. But the soft sticky mud was over a foot deep, with a layer of slippery clay below that. Getting back would be messy, if not impossible. Our only real option was to wait and see if the water came back.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgouTUzaXs1_Y01aVZmBzw8jhMGhuYagF2J7p5TnliEjPG4wIKmfAATypia9Tx317WD7kGgU5MrHnafI1QYOFuYZLqExUT73X-9qOyKTlYwEaKQGq8nKQX8vXb9lWQQAaIi4enc3S44Nn3J/s1600/hbhb+oar+in+the+mud.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgouTUzaXs1_Y01aVZmBzw8jhMGhuYagF2J7p5TnliEjPG4wIKmfAATypia9Tx317WD7kGgU5MrHnafI1QYOFuYZLqExUT73X-9qOyKTlYwEaKQGq8nKQX8vXb9lWQQAaIi4enc3S44Nn3J/s400/hbhb+oar+in+the+mud.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585803663327586402" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Eventually, it did. Thank goodness. But I learned a lesson from this experience. Rather, I figured out that I NEED to learn a lesson about the tides and how they work before I take any more out-of-town guests boating in the back bay.<br /><br />Our plan was to paddle all the way to the sandspit, haul out, and explore the dunes. Once on dry land again, we would marvel at the tiny rows of fairy-sized prints left by the kangaroo rats. We would climb up the soft hillsides, just to have the fun of tumbling down again. We would look for live sand dollars growing in the shallow water, and collect the skeletons of dead ones from the hard packed sand on the beach.<br /><br />That was my plan. But, we couldn't find any hard packed sand to land on. All we found near the spit was mud, mud and more mud. We paddled along, hoping for the terrain to change, but couldn't find anywhere we could get the canoe close to the solid shore. Eventually, we decided we'd better head home before it started to get dark.<br /><br />It sounds like a disappointing afternoon. Nothing really worked out as I'd promised our guests. But, like those bumper stickers about fishing, a bad day paddling around in the back bay is still a pretty good day. The weather was perfect, warm and sunny with a light breeze. The views were amazing all around. And, it's just fun to be out in the middle of water in a boat you are powering with your own energy and skill.<br /><br />To top it off, we had a couple of unusual sightings. The first one showed up on the other side of the canoe from where I was, so I couldn't see it at first. I could only see the others waving excitedly and pointing. The distance between us was such that I could just barely make out what they were saying. It sounded like, "Shark!"<br /><br />At first, I thought maybe they were just joking...trying to scare me. I wouldn't blame them. After all, it was my fault we'd spent half our afternoon stuck in the mud and weren't going to enjoy exploring the sandspit. Then, suddenly I remembered that the southwest corner of the bay, not far from where we were, was sometimes called "Shark Inlet." Uh oh.<br /><br />Then I saw something swim around the back of their canoe and start heading my way. It had a triangular fin sticking up from the center of it's back. I could see a little bit of what looked like it's head weaving in front, and a smaller triangle flipping from side to side in the back. I guessed that was it's tail fin. As it got closer, I could see that I was right, it was a tail fin. And my friends were right too, it really was a shark. And it was coming toward me.<br /><br />I started scanning my mental files for some kind of useful information that applied to the situation. I did manage to remember that the sharks most commonly seen in the back bay are leopard shards. And that, despite their dangerous sounding name, they are harmless to humans. The voice in my head very calmly reviewed these half-remembered facts.<br /><br />"There's nothing to be afraid of," it concluded confidently.<br /><br />But it was hard to listen to that voice when that ominous triangle was getting closer and closer every second. Behind the rational words, I was starting to hear music. You know the tune...duh duh duh duh, duh duh duh duh. This shark might have only been 3 feet long, but it still had JAWS big enough to tear the flesh from my limbs. My heart started beating faster.<br /><br />"Nonsense," said the voice. "It's perfectly safe in the boat. Anyway, that shark is going to change course in a moment."<br /><br />But a moment passed, and it didn't swerve or veer. It just kept coming straight at me. Watching it get bigger and bigger as it got closer and closer, my face got hot and I started to sweat. I clenched all my muscles tight to keep my self from paddling madly away. It wasn't the calm voice in my head that convinced me to keep still, it was my fear that I might accidentally tip the boat in my panic to get away.<br /><br />We hear a lot about the "fight or flight" response to danger, but there is a third option for channeling adrenaline that doesn't get as much publicity, "freezing." That's what I did. I froze.<br /><br />It's a weird feeling to inhabit a body rigid with fear, while listening to a calm inner voice explain all the reasons why there is nothing to be afraid of. It turned out the voice was right. At the last moment, the shark banked right to avoid colliding with my kayak. It swam so close beside me I could have reached out and touched it if I'd wanted to...and had any mobility in my arms.<br /><br />It was beautiful, so pale and so graceful, it could have been called the swan shark. From nose-tip to tail, it was adorned with spots and striped that hinted at it's feline namesake. The pattern was in blue. Against the ivory background, it made me think of a china plate, delicate and fine...smooth and strong.<br /><br />You might think after admiring it up close, and safely surviving the experience, I might have a different response the next time a leopard shark swims at me. But I don't think so. I think there is something primal about watching that triangular shape sticking out of the water, weaving from side to side as it rapidly approaches your own soft human flesh. It think I'll be just as scared next time, no matter what the voice in my head has to say about it.<br /><br />Obviously, I wasn't able to take a picture of this shark, since I couldn't move. But, here's a picture I nabbed on-line, so you can see how pretty they are.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3JWZdb9S6ThFfLRuqmENq4xZSkQxCT4PQoH9fYwONP2Ime-lRAa-3iIjjL4wHfqL2oWEXX5psX3KzFNW8kqXBid9xm-Dx_cNkuHcYoHbhMns7tj5s0UNM7OjMLrs1w_cBz1IPBatsOXe/s1600/Leopard-Shark-008.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3JWZdb9S6ThFfLRuqmENq4xZSkQxCT4PQoH9fYwONP2Ime-lRAa-3iIjjL4wHfqL2oWEXX5psX3KzFNW8kqXBid9xm-Dx_cNkuHcYoHbhMns7tj5s0UNM7OjMLrs1w_cBz1IPBatsOXe/s400/Leopard-Shark-008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585822952102703234" border="0" /></a><br />And here's a link to an amusing video taken by some other kayakers who encountered the same species in the same body of water. It seems like they weren't scared at all. But then, the sharks weren't coming right AT them either!<br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdOo9cvgmew<br /><br />Happy to still be alive and in one piece, I took a few moments to calm down and just appreciate the amazing beauty of the day. That's when I noticed an unusual wispy shape in the sky. At first I thought it was a cloud, but it was much darker than the other clouds. Then I decided it must be a flock of birds coming in from far away. But I watched it for a while, and it never seemed to get any closer.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfHACYPIOw2eyu4eJBAeZCvuNTgsgAPhBXmxaSEC6lCqLocR5UFPwys-XJjqpCByj6nrFPUrsB-6t7eVl7xhC9Xr3JqTriYCSmVpRM4mubRL9iZNW4bHPnlzV_xT9w_ICIQVI682ZwLMR/s1600/hbhb+dark+swoop.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfHACYPIOw2eyu4eJBAeZCvuNTgsgAPhBXmxaSEC6lCqLocR5UFPwys-XJjqpCByj6nrFPUrsB-6t7eVl7xhC9Xr3JqTriYCSmVpRM4mubRL9iZNW4bHPnlzV_xT9w_ICIQVI682ZwLMR/s400/hbhb+dark+swoop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585803660626369794" border="0" /></a><br />I still don't know what it was. Maybe it was pollution. That's a depressing thought, and a scary one. The hill I watched it drift over was one of only half a dozen that separates our little town from the nuclear power plant in Diablo Canyon.<br /><br />Now obviously, a black cloud approaching from a nuclear reactor holds a lot more possibility for harm than a three foot shark. But for some reason, the dark shape in the sky didn't scare me at all. I watched it with interest the whole time we paddled back to the inlet, and forgot all about it by the time we were home eating macaroni and cheese.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-22170858223368365102011-03-12T07:57:00.000-08:002011-03-12T09:53:43.782-08:00Sweet Sweet Sweet SpringsHappy Saturday Morning, Everybody!<br /><br />Piper and I just got back from a lovely jog. We started from the house, just before sunrise. Our loop took us out to the back bay, through Sweet Springs, along a dirt road that connects Ramona to Los Osos Valley Rd., up to the end of Broderson Rd., west on the sandy scrub brush trail behind the houses of Highland, down Bayview Heights, past the skate park, through the frisbee golf course, behind the library, up the hidden path from 5th to 9th and down hill all the way home from there.<br /><br />It was beautiful every step of the way. And birdie-full too!<br /><br />I was a better runner back before I was a birder because I didn't stop as often! But I know I didn't enjoy my morning outings near as much as I do now. Here are just a few of the exciting species I saw this morning...all within the ten acres of enchanting and protected waterfront woodland that makes up Sweet Springs Nature Preserve.<br /><br />At the park's edge, hopping through what looked like a wild raspberry bush, I spied a fat robbin's red breast! But the rest of the bird didn't belong to a robin at all. The wings were dark with white spots, and the whole head was shiny black. Usually, when I see a bird I've never seen before, I need a help from a friend or a field guide before I can identify it. But, I knew this one right away, because K had seen one a couple of weeks ago and told me about it.<br /><br />We had looked it up and identified it as a black headed grosbeak, like this one. (All the photos on this posting are swiped off the web...they are not from my camera or even from my guidebook.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGg3q8Dr8kFeaxkBg55vApcWZda3CdKVt5l4dqFQNDiHIEYhIxfnWGB6ERdaiAlEdhZbMA-EWNb4wu4mmHMBcrZ8oKTob5v9ScJzIBh0Ohi4p5Pt8AlY7iI2URT5AIAwgmTJGMHcuZmgpO/s1600/black+headed+grosbeak.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGg3q8Dr8kFeaxkBg55vApcWZda3CdKVt5l4dqFQNDiHIEYhIxfnWGB6ERdaiAlEdhZbMA-EWNb4wu4mmHMBcrZ8oKTob5v9ScJzIBh0Ohi4p5Pt8AlY7iI2URT5AIAwgmTJGMHcuZmgpO/s400/black+headed+grosbeak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583235509088975170" border="0" /></a><br />Of course, it's belly isn't really red and it lacks the roundness of a robin...but we chalked that up to individual variation and figured we'd correctly identified her bird. After all...the "compare" feature in our birding book didn't mention any other similar looking birds in the area that might cause confusion.<br /><br />But later, we came across a picture of this bird:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvKKYG57vjfoIkhb7-egERJK6nkwgnW-Q5HbXKIDsyFqBmQERn0at-BII-gyiUAWbK0V9gr4xzE984wMQU3ZIXkstClIQwpJnVQJMU-KCJGMLbiOZhB_qyHBjh-9LwtzVsiQOF6ySmalx0/s1600/spotted+towee.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvKKYG57vjfoIkhb7-egERJK6nkwgnW-Q5HbXKIDsyFqBmQERn0at-BII-gyiUAWbK0V9gr4xzE984wMQU3ZIXkstClIQwpJnVQJMU-KCJGMLbiOZhB_qyHBjh-9LwtzVsiQOF6ySmalx0/s400/spotted+towee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583235508128768914" border="0" /></a><br /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Magic/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" />And K had her "AHA!" moment. She had seen a spotted towee...no doubt about it.<br /><br />So when I saw one this morning, hopping through roadside brambles, I was able to instantly identify it! So exciting.<br /><br />But it wasn't until I actually entered the park that things got really interesting.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxuvKYonef7X6h-KsoTHsDXyp_hztl0CYz8ysQwA4QE01zE_iQPjjreHnVnIZ4tzO3CFK2qg1jfwLVRgs74Xy2xApxe4s08oSP1hK5x462kviccZv55gkreoKVcCpiQ4tcWJGfkypD-0cg/s1600/sweet+springs.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxuvKYonef7X6h-KsoTHsDXyp_hztl0CYz8ysQwA4QE01zE_iQPjjreHnVnIZ4tzO3CFK2qg1jfwLVRgs74Xy2xApxe4s08oSP1hK5x462kviccZv55gkreoKVcCpiQ4tcWJGfkypD-0cg/s400/sweet+springs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583235513045015218" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The first thing I noticed was the sound. Or rather, the ruckus. Maybe I have been surrounded by that much bird-noise before, but I certainly haven't noticed it enough to really hear and pay attention. Good grief. It was worse than a zoo. From every direction came hoots and hollers, cheep and chirps, grunts and groans, twitter and tweets. It was maddening, being surrounded by all this bold and unmistakable evidence of interesting avian activity...without being able to SEE any of it. Each time I tried to follow my ears with my eyes, all that came into view was a patch of wild grasses or a cluster of eucalyptus branches. I was starting to think these birds were invisible. There just didn't seem to be anyway that normal birds could make that much noise without revealing themselves just a little bit!<br /><br />And then a "rattatatatat" directly overhead caught my attention. The early morning sun was casting more shadows than light, so it was hard to see details. But I did manage to make out the shape of a 6-7 inch bird chipping away at a tree trunk with it's sturdy little beak. It had black wings, a white belly and a white back, so I'm pretty sure it was a downy woodpecker, like this one:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwpXxQVUTpi2iAlYYdZ0C0EVF6XbmC7NNPR5NiZzGDrlIdvxMdQJnfYkR0B05lx-9El0f2UMlqg2qhHP5ol0_KPl7-W3fHS67mYJaH4kKAjJp5jtnE2jHyMMN4q9xq1L-z-vnbDeCLtiDH/s1600/downy-woodpecker.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwpXxQVUTpi2iAlYYdZ0C0EVF6XbmC7NNPR5NiZzGDrlIdvxMdQJnfYkR0B05lx-9El0f2UMlqg2qhHP5ol0_KPl7-W3fHS67mYJaH4kKAjJp5jtnE2jHyMMN4q9xq1L-z-vnbDeCLtiDH/s400/downy-woodpecker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583243039581418130" border="0" /></a><br />Then, wading through the springs themselves, I saw a snowy egret lifting it's bright yellow feet in and out of the mud. Hoping not to scare it away, I froze mid-step and whispered at Piper to "sit! stay!" I've seen these birds before, but only a handful of times.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIThVE9rPfbaRv67uJRwhzwVGLc1Z_Ak9c_nAjlIU-R2Y2hvJvTNc2QiWEXOBYsLDaeW9pGBLniLpQW4tIOmE7HkASSHHB6uvTh-yJOZs-I0HntEaKU2TuNNse7IlzPiPt_o5KPQ5G1_kW/s1600/SnowyEgret.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIThVE9rPfbaRv67uJRwhzwVGLc1Z_Ak9c_nAjlIU-R2Y2hvJvTNc2QiWEXOBYsLDaeW9pGBLniLpQW4tIOmE7HkASSHHB6uvTh-yJOZs-I0HntEaKU2TuNNse7IlzPiPt_o5KPQ5G1_kW/s400/SnowyEgret.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583235516208644546" border="0" /></a><br /><br />What we see a lot more often around here are the great white egrets. They're taller, sleeker and more dramatic to look at with their graceful legs and long curves necks. But I don't find them as thrilling, because they are more common.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwM4TYoFI7H-HcOazj1_1dpJ85BunfhjijeT0Kqf_EqRrDCazof7FmkNtkNNOgCuxwz3enwpBx1in4lqb0nw35wRI_TJFuL4jCBWaBQKeA8J6eZu20PsBWyf9WVml61Bti5K4c2Q_Bv_qj/s1600/great+white+egret.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwM4TYoFI7H-HcOazj1_1dpJ85BunfhjijeT0Kqf_EqRrDCazof7FmkNtkNNOgCuxwz3enwpBx1in4lqb0nw35wRI_TJFuL4jCBWaBQKeA8J6eZu20PsBWyf9WVml61Bti5K4c2Q_Bv_qj/s400/great+white+egret.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583243038363419010" border="0" /></a><br />I'm learning this is a normal way to react, now that I'm a "real" birder watcher. The uninitiated expect the bigger, flashier birds to be the most exciting. Those are fun to spot, no doubt about it. But I'd give up a blue heron sighting any day,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWch6_xCYCZZEBB6ee6BOKFhh3SP7RkbyNg5ivllm7HmZVPYmUrhJTipd0j6d52MNezHfl-V1VdnNuiQd0u0xoP4SEp7fWa7XFdCM5jHAvfpPRHY994ZPwZUhtrOOibtU4Q5BRMQee5MRj/s1600/great+blue+heron.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWch6_xCYCZZEBB6ee6BOKFhh3SP7RkbyNg5ivllm7HmZVPYmUrhJTipd0j6d52MNezHfl-V1VdnNuiQd0u0xoP4SEp7fWa7XFdCM5jHAvfpPRHY994ZPwZUhtrOOibtU4Q5BRMQee5MRj/s400/great+blue+heron.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583246567583171170" border="0" /></a><br /><br />in exchange for a glimpse of an LBJ (little brown job) like this dusky warbler, here on a rare visit from Siberia.<br /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Magic/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSsdkfnJCRxvU-eW_Srce6Xl7mvbO2yN5Sl_wvgj4snaiZ7nwLAkVXe3D-fWeKXe1_HOLyYPftD1NXpd-SRQL6MIgEwG1_9WrVAn1sSUr-Se-eylknvVg1A8T0J3gB3DKJdtYUwkOb0Pp/s1600/dusky+warbler.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 182px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSsdkfnJCRxvU-eW_Srce6Xl7mvbO2yN5Sl_wvgj4snaiZ7nwLAkVXe3D-fWeKXe1_HOLyYPftD1NXpd-SRQL6MIgEwG1_9WrVAn1sSUr-Se-eylknvVg1A8T0J3gB3DKJdtYUwkOb0Pp/s400/dusky+warbler.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583246573548354610" border="0" /></a><br />Another nice thing about being a "real" birder, is that I am starting to be able to identify some birds even when I can't see them very well. For instance this morning I saw, perched on the the bushes between the eucalyptus grove and the sandy beach of the back bay, a teeny tiny little bird with it's beak in profile against the dull light of the western sky. Even without being able to see it's color or the shape of it's body, I'm SURE it was a hummingbird. And, I'd bet that it was an Anna's hummingbird, because I now know that those are the most common ones in Los Osos.<br /><br />In the picture below, you can see the face is a reddish-pink, but a still photo cannot communicate the thrill of watching one in the wild when the light is working in your favor. Most of the time their heads look rather dark and dull. But, if you find one when the sun is behind you on a bright afternoon, keep it steadily in your sights. You will eventually be rewarded by a POW, Shabam! "Did you see THAT?!" kind of moment when the light hits the surface of the face feathers just right and the bird's head lights up like a hot pink disco ball.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-9sQpG7rpXCh9ywPz4SdPtG20WF2GWNSA5hi4FhjK1HwoJzpyAphW_UQzrwvM8OeWMgDmK5F2oRInB_xvLE_9G9Z6eIK3YZ4hcjJTztnytVCpHKLyvpcYt2vbxyJ3i_YtnIVrbBCA15Z/s1600/annas+hummingbird.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-9sQpG7rpXCh9ywPz4SdPtG20WF2GWNSA5hi4FhjK1HwoJzpyAphW_UQzrwvM8OeWMgDmK5F2oRInB_xvLE_9G9Z6eIK3YZ4hcjJTztnytVCpHKLyvpcYt2vbxyJ3i_YtnIVrbBCA15Z/s400/annas+hummingbird.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583243032892433234" border="0" /></a><br />Of course, just because I'm getting good at identifying my flying, feathered neighbors...doesn't mean I have to do it all the time. Sometimes I do what I used to do, just watch and enjoy them. From the look-out deck at the end of the board-walk, I could see a whole crowd of long-billed shore bird. If I'd tried, I might have been able to pick out the individual species. There were probably some whimbrels and marbled godwits it the bunch, maybe even a long billed curlew.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUhRaAmAkhSHg0z8ZS81Yfj5ESPGqyhQ9G3-H72VMsUM_43XPAaK-SGxuMo1BfT4xrsh4bjOZVv9ky3uV0H_Jnfu_oz2fU2ziCb22-pby_CHj0q6n-yalgSiCNlIfhTfDoF03DksZBd7LL/s1600/long+billed+shore+birds.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUhRaAmAkhSHg0z8ZS81Yfj5ESPGqyhQ9G3-H72VMsUM_43XPAaK-SGxuMo1BfT4xrsh4bjOZVv9ky3uV0H_Jnfu_oz2fU2ziCb22-pby_CHj0q6n-yalgSiCNlIfhTfDoF03DksZBd7LL/s400/long+billed+shore+birds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583243044622091874" border="0" /></a><br />One day soon I'll be over there again, with my field books and binoculars, ready to make some positive identifications.<br /><br />But sometimes, it's nice to just relax and enjoy watching them. They are miraculously beautiful, no matter what their names are.M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-75090514225225399572011-03-12T07:54:00.000-08:002011-03-12T07:57:37.844-08:00Flying High at the Morro Bay Bird Fest (guest writer)<div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> </span>After an exhilarating time at the Great Salt Bird Festival in 2008, I kept my ears open for another opportunity to immerse myself in all things feathered and beaked. Living in landlocked Colorado, I am always hungry (thirsty?) for the water, so the Morro Bay Bird Festival seemed like an excellent match for me.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">The toughest thing about bird festivals is choosing which events to attend. Staying with M and K in Los Osos (a few miles south of Morro Bay), I also wanted to balance time with birds with time with them. Since I’m new to the area, I decided to focus on getting to know Morro Bay.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">With this in mind, Friday morning found me rejoicing in the the warm weather as I walked a portion of the Morro Bay shore line with a dozen others, some new to birding, others with decades of experience. T</span><span style="line-height: 31px;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">his walk introduced me to three large wading birds: the </span><span style="line-height: 150%;">long-billed curlew, the long-billed dowicher, and the marbled godwit. These birds find their food (</span><span style="line-height: 150%; color: black;">aquatic invertebrates, mollusks, snails, larvae, worms, and leeches (yum!)) by probing their long bills into shallow water and mud. One website compares the dowitchers eating style to a sewing machine, as its bill drills up and down.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="line-height: 31px;"><span style="line-height: 150%; color: black;"></span><span style="line-height: 150%;">One way to distinguish the godwit from the curlew and dowitcher is that the godwit’s beak turns slightly up. “Up toward God,” I thought, even though I’m more of a “god is everywhere” type than a “God in Heaven” type. Thinking this was a pretty clever mnemonic, I soon heard several people make the “up towards God” comment. Easy cliché or great minds think alike?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Ambling southward (birders are rarely brisk, too much to look at), we stopped the Heron rookery near the natural history museum. This grove of eucalyptus and Cyprus trees is home to </span>great blue herons, great and snowy egrets,<span style="line-height: 150%;"> and </span>black crowned night herons (though I didn’t see any of those.) More recently, <span style="line-height: 150%; color: rgb(26, 24, 24);">double-crested cormorants have moved in. Many of the trees were dead, unable to withstand the </span>acidity in the droppings of these large birds</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">After walking past the marina, we wandered into the estuary. Tide out, we didn’t see many birds, but I was introduced to the salty, tasty, pickleweed plant. One of the bonuses of bird festivals is learning about the bigger picture, the ways that plants, animals, and geography are all interlinked.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></p></div>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-34297737721535732022011-03-05T07:20:00.001-08:002011-03-19T09:48:08.835-07:00Pt. Buchon Trail<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg16AYdL2QIFqwtA7yctSBl7Trd-qctc2Hs4itUNYs7kRpJv4DOhz4KUXdPIjK0bd1Kw6B7ghZVB3HNxagG9rXFgh5O5949JoWiybyIP67AoghVoEPvE5a6oWREIOx7oloDNO3a9tNDNs9l/s1600/IMG_2296.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg16AYdL2QIFqwtA7yctSBl7Trd-qctc2Hs4itUNYs7kRpJv4DOhz4KUXdPIjK0bd1Kw6B7ghZVB3HNxagG9rXFgh5O5949JoWiybyIP67AoghVoEPvE5a6oWREIOx7oloDNO3a9tNDNs9l/s400/IMG_2296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580616881877557058" border="0" /></a><br />The Pt. Buchon Trail opened in 2008 as part of an exchange deal. Pacific Gas & Electric, who owns the property, got a permit to build a storage facility for used radioactive fuel. Regular folks got access to this amazing piece of land that hugs the coast along the "buffer zone" between the Diablo Canyon Power Plant to the South, and the Montana de Oro State Park to the North.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jkcy4CiGnfPse891JEswcb3NV_md269QBttEH0FKrUHI3ckNxJRptqGXi5ZeE4fQcbI6BRUFVNZmJ28PnSRQCtI3238XqG_gz-mS9aN-hhDRKKSjzxFoLmJOaKibjl3xFmz9ydW2dXUz/s1600/Pt.+Buchon+map.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jkcy4CiGnfPse891JEswcb3NV_md269QBttEH0FKrUHI3ckNxJRptqGXi5ZeE4fQcbI6BRUFVNZmJ28PnSRQCtI3238XqG_gz-mS9aN-hhDRKKSjzxFoLmJOaKibjl3xFmz9ydW2dXUz/s400/Pt.+Buchon+map.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580616881522735394" border="0" /></a>Access is limited to 255* hikers each day. I have no idea if they've ever come close to "full capacity," but it seems unlikely. The times I've been there I've seen maybe a dozen other people, at the most.<br /><br />The trail opens at 8am, Thursday through Monday. Supposedly, it stays open until 5pm, but they ask you to return to the trail head by 3:45.<br /><br />To get there, drive through Los Osos on Los Osos Valley Road until you hit the big left turn and the road turns into Pecho Valley. Continue driving all the way through the Montana de Oro State Park until the road dead ends at the Coon Creek trail head and parking lot. Head toward the chain link gate and you'll find an opening on the left side, just big enough for a person to walk through. Follow the paved road down the hill, across a very sturdy looking concrete bridge, and up the next hill until you come to the sign-in station at the Pt. Buchon trail head.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnSHvaghVxS44dPx4_UNE1mceYsvKT7u8PIHMyxnuLcmO5d2YoIV7xVrZjMRdn4s6JGAAWCazydYFUljRRm200O-7HZ-a196IeMR7LyMAfrazb2golpWNINTA6BiQXgwszP8ztkQZSuDe/s1600/IMG_2276.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnSHvaghVxS44dPx4_UNE1mceYsvKT7u8PIHMyxnuLcmO5d2YoIV7xVrZjMRdn4s6JGAAWCazydYFUljRRm200O-7HZ-a196IeMR7LyMAfrazb2golpWNINTA6BiQXgwszP8ztkQZSuDe/s400/IMG_2276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580628326768814866" border="0" /></a><br />I can't tell you exactly how far this part of the walk is, but here's how far away the parking lot looks, after you've reached the station.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWyUUN-sy_xViv8TV1jjrTKtutV_BITaLENlPaV2vREIEsVFZx7KIp6qLzJ3K9loymKD8jZx_WZeQe1RQezzwoleRPtXCHpHiX8hK4q5gOezksfs075riOn28TAc9eZqYVVHpSaENk3Gl/s1600/IMG_2285.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWyUUN-sy_xViv8TV1jjrTKtutV_BITaLENlPaV2vREIEsVFZx7KIp6qLzJ3K9loymKD8jZx_WZeQe1RQezzwoleRPtXCHpHiX8hK4q5gOezksfs075riOn28TAc9eZqYVVHpSaENk3Gl/s400/IMG_2285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580628330854880562" border="0" /></a><br />Now the real experience begins. If you enjoy meandering along green rolling hills, through meadows filled with wild flowers, listening to the crashing surf, and admiring rocky precipices jutting out from the sea, they you are in for a real treat. If you mistrust authority and hate following rules, or you are by nature a highly anxious person, this might not be the best way for you to spend your afternoon. Here are a few of the regulations and warnings you will be subject to during your visit. 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mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Please Stay on Trail"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Do Not Litter"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Look. But do not remove anything from the trail."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"No pets, smoking or open flame, alcohol, tobacco or firearms."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"No commercial photography without prior permission"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Beware of Snakes"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Please Stay away from Cliffs."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Beware of Caves collapsing. Do not enter."</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Do not pet or feed the working animals."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Stay clear of ranch electric fencing."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"No Poaching"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"If you hear the emergency warning siren sound, return immediately to the check-in station for further instructions."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"All users requesting access to the trail may be subject to a security check."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Remote alarmed and monitored by sheriff’s department. Unauthorized entry is a felony."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Remain on the marked trail at all times for your safety - exceptions are considered trespassing and subject to intervention up to and including arrests."</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"Warning: Nuclear Power Plant"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"DEADLY FORCE MAY BE USED TO PROTECT THIS FACILITY."</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" >"DO NOT ENTER!"<br /></span></p><br /><br />If you decide to proceed, and I hope you do, here is what you are going to see along the 2.5 miles trail:<br /><br />a huge sinkhole with a beach and flowing tides at the bottom of it,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8g2npPl1lXs3TgOboDVs5uKB6jxt1FlEdZOxuYRqYsXo26dPFu7zVuiGDj7Wn7xeG3qRBUZy1xfhQtd1bZmH_q_1u5UaNN9fmMw26yIUq-O99Pfsk0c0Khu6NBt0PECjJlWwWYLs1XyK/s1600/IMG_2294.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8g2npPl1lXs3TgOboDVs5uKB6jxt1FlEdZOxuYRqYsXo26dPFu7zVuiGDj7Wn7xeG3qRBUZy1xfhQtd1bZmH_q_1u5UaNN9fmMw26yIUq-O99Pfsk0c0Khu6NBt0PECjJlWwWYLs1XyK/s400/IMG_2294.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580618268610170978" border="0" /></a><br />dramatic rock formations,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdCVgx_0sgba6m0vN9cjRgooN_eKJGniTSQ5nURUuSRIAvTHe9Yd1DKbYDRrVFOEMB2w9hZLXGduxhRaiaWAGeaWZJpkmC6wOzfX_BbFEP_LqYZTryCjwunzCmD9T9fDTyL8IpIXBiQNT/s1600/IMG_2317.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdCVgx_0sgba6m0vN9cjRgooN_eKJGniTSQ5nURUuSRIAvTHe9Yd1DKbYDRrVFOEMB2w9hZLXGduxhRaiaWAGeaWZJpkmC6wOzfX_BbFEP_LqYZTryCjwunzCmD9T9fDTyL8IpIXBiQNT/s400/IMG_2317.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580618276118918146" border="0" /></a><br />blue mountains on the distant Northern horizon,<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdCVgx_0sgba6m0vN9cjRgooN_eKJGniTSQ5nURUuSRIAvTHe9Yd1DKbYDRrVFOEMB2w9hZLXGduxhRaiaWAGeaWZJpkmC6wOzfX_BbFEP_LqYZTryCjwunzCmD9T9fDTyL8IpIXBiQNT/s1600/IMG_2317.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqd_OTm6QfSoU_CvLuE1MCJuUZDvvCSPwfQOdowZ90zFtXYOuQd96BstmNalXjJb9JD0wSSZtSMbF7viyxEZiQi4Cpq1rnfCkEydA0JHkeKWf4Uf2jACyfMs_qBb4fmIshVPNcN20-7oo/s1600/IMG_2353.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqd_OTm6QfSoU_CvLuE1MCJuUZDvvCSPwfQOdowZ90zFtXYOuQd96BstmNalXjJb9JD0wSSZtSMbF7viyxEZiQi4Cpq1rnfCkEydA0JHkeKWf4Uf2jACyfMs_qBb4fmIshVPNcN20-7oo/s400/IMG_2353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580618274063709586" border="0" /></a><br />arches over the sea,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_nfIb1_biT1Bj4ceRRocnn1ruEKPcBjSXFn9wSz1z5HE5ol4AU0h99dUFg6IUcdPVjA1dVALaQTc9UCjta9f41_IODR2yc_u-FP3B8-OTuFwwnEA2M_ilZBmLDQgVc7kO-ANVSf1NX8-/s1600/IMG_2359.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_nfIb1_biT1Bj4ceRRocnn1ruEKPcBjSXFn9wSz1z5HE5ol4AU0h99dUFg6IUcdPVjA1dVALaQTc9UCjta9f41_IODR2yc_u-FP3B8-OTuFwwnEA2M_ilZBmLDQgVc7kO-ANVSf1NX8-/s400/IMG_2359.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580621983422240274" border="0" /></a><br />steep green hills against the bright blue water,<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQ-pQclY0MGWJP30HBP1s2Mys_IUwza47c8hupiFFa_5nyeFFqLa6T8OoWt88JPcYNqpO_BYgVLm2Dl9GYpLQpR41tcXs3VNrRMwX1cnW-Zlu-a0xMQpjKZrWdNCgI-jV8NQzxFNuaDEd/s1600/IMG_2341.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQ-pQclY0MGWJP30HBP1s2Mys_IUwza47c8hupiFFa_5nyeFFqLa6T8OoWt88JPcYNqpO_BYgVLm2Dl9GYpLQpR41tcXs3VNrRMwX1cnW-Zlu-a0xMQpjKZrWdNCgI-jV8NQzxFNuaDEd/s400/IMG_2341.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580621979126394370" border="0" /></a>And some of the luckiest cows in the world.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9srqbk_555QY05O7tv_Jl5ZxRbmjvd9P6eBjJS_zLFSPZ-gjxVr5q5rsQsuFVsZO_KcKCws2ao7syy2v-LvgkaIKCb0p97H7oK-CLH5AYm0PkDwSgTf0PxDJESQrBVdb7oYNm8uPcdYS/s1600/IMG_2326.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9srqbk_555QY05O7tv_Jl5ZxRbmjvd9P6eBjJS_zLFSPZ-gjxVr5q5rsQsuFVsZO_KcKCws2ao7syy2v-LvgkaIKCb0p97H7oK-CLH5AYm0PkDwSgTf0PxDJESQrBVdb7oYNm8uPcdYS/s400/IMG_2326.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580616889980618626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If you go in early spring, you will see carpets of golden poppies with the soft round mountains rising up behind them<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalIz2PzSosInQ-HM4qrJnAohLA-SvsYHlL1ag6pEmoEbG7pTQA4HMPQfN_o6d560D3-pi_D7MtX77YBU_evvcKb7FEqZXsMcJH023nY73XEecKjrv7o3PF2oMpoOP6dcLvuvlwlsbWjZo/s1600/IMG_2308.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalIz2PzSosInQ-HM4qrJnAohLA-SvsYHlL1ag6pEmoEbG7pTQA4HMPQfN_o6d560D3-pi_D7MtX77YBU_evvcKb7FEqZXsMcJH023nY73XEecKjrv7o3PF2oMpoOP6dcLvuvlwlsbWjZo/s400/IMG_2308.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580618283976222178" border="0" /></a><br />or, if you turn the other way, you can admire them with the ocean as a backdrop.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-Q8bs4dEXcTXXaKMrNoVGL1hLwQA749v68uMRqD1RR2bWNRlUIARerN-w2D7qUwC9WjK3OEXdkgSzPX90HumReZLsqsgsS_-uSeia8TB_PPfuQtYd8GF1UNO_rSwP_pK-xgHzM8Wc6Vt/s1600/IMG_2332.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-Q8bs4dEXcTXXaKMrNoVGL1hLwQA749v68uMRqD1RR2bWNRlUIARerN-w2D7qUwC9WjK3OEXdkgSzPX90HumReZLsqsgsS_-uSeia8TB_PPfuQtYd8GF1UNO_rSwP_pK-xgHzM8Wc6Vt/s400/IMG_2332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580618287151531698" border="0" /></a><br />We are not actually in the Montana De Oro, but it is the same kind of terrain, and is just as deserving of the title.<br /><br />If you know enough Spanish to translate it into "Mountain of Gold" and you remember from history class that the "Rush of '49" happened in California, you might think the reference is to a mining legacy. But once you see these poppies, you understand the real meaning behind the name.<br /><br />And, if you come a little later in the season, you'll catch the overlap between poppy blossom time and wild mustard season. Prepare to be enchanted.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvq8m6RUVtdjGzuPYcF07wB1TMHDVVH5xdFULOEb4qPuOzowS8pxlxyXKHUxKMqPprYSwGL0SF9xhAVKCZl97kQWd66v1d3Iuh_xXPj-sLSN8kMYdgUZ-4kl5VL7XIbJQv0W_TXQ55HywZ/s1600/why+it%2527s+called+mountain+of+gold.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvq8m6RUVtdjGzuPYcF07wB1TMHDVVH5xdFULOEb4qPuOzowS8pxlxyXKHUxKMqPprYSwGL0SF9xhAVKCZl97kQWd66v1d3Iuh_xXPj-sLSN8kMYdgUZ-4kl5VL7XIbJQv0W_TXQ55HywZ/s400/why+it%2527s+called+mountain+of+gold.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580616884005360770" border="0" /></a>(I grabbed this photo from a PG&E website.)<br /><br /><br />After an hour or so of hiking along gentle inclines, you will approach Windy Point. Thankfully, as most of the trail takes you through wide open spaces with no bushes to hide behind, they've placed some bathroom facilities out here.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lfT3O1eDsZq2FyARrh2PJ6XtyQh5MZEsp3GDrJLygn53wlhyIN0-jxtcS5gBSuizYFSpwKWX4gbKWA-3SC5aeunR4CEBFXm8e1vQuGO9sKwMl2uB_tML-SigLQdd30oq_Ndg69zEUlVb/s1600/IMG_2344.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lfT3O1eDsZq2FyARrh2PJ6XtyQh5MZEsp3GDrJLygn53wlhyIN0-jxtcS5gBSuizYFSpwKWX4gbKWA-3SC5aeunR4CEBFXm8e1vQuGO9sKwMl2uB_tML-SigLQdd30oq_Ndg69zEUlVb/s400/IMG_2344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580616899158120162" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As you round the corner, you will be greeted by this stunning view, with the Diablo Canyon Power Plant barely visible in the distance.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrVQuwOnFjTQ-Ch8kDTNhJ1wpn5sXolwY2U7U8tzylaDvjwx6EnAKADBaipfaTRKbiD0pQwRxOR9jxCWchp3bkQdBaHGhldfAyLt-eVxIXCSc1Etp36z-92A0_-1fz4I0K9MIemfR5dN9/s1600/IMG_2345.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrVQuwOnFjTQ-Ch8kDTNhJ1wpn5sXolwY2U7U8tzylaDvjwx6EnAKADBaipfaTRKbiD0pQwRxOR9jxCWchp3bkQdBaHGhldfAyLt-eVxIXCSc1Etp36z-92A0_-1fz4I0K9MIemfR5dN9/s400/IMG_2345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580621975077098674" border="0" /></a><br />Here's a close-up. It reminds me of the Emerald City, partly, because of the bright green grass surrounding it, and the fields of poppies that lead to it. Also, because there is mysterious wizardry happening inside it, producing electricity for more than 2.2 million people.<br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzVYFU7F9NFM5wwLFzxT-dyton_SrOV1f8LXergpTvc93XxUD1CRQ4DKE860AI6jm9vEt76e6PFObrleMM1WKGGK3MxlVRtM_2lmUPoUafR88trT69aCnSJxlEUUlG5MI7XjqFgxn-oRT/s1600/IMG_2663.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzVYFU7F9NFM5wwLFzxT-dyton_SrOV1f8LXergpTvc93XxUD1CRQ4DKE860AI6jm9vEt76e6PFObrleMM1WKGGK3MxlVRtM_2lmUPoUafR88trT69aCnSJxlEUUlG5MI7XjqFgxn-oRT/s400/IMG_2663.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580624662699409666" border="0" /></a></p><br />It's a strange sensation to emerge so suddenly from reverie induced by peaceful communion with nature. One moment I'm in awe of the beautiful flora, the rich land, and the powerful sea. The next I'm recalling the famous Einstein quote:<br /><br />"It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity."<br /><br />Now, I know there's a lot of controversy over nuclear power and whether it is ultimately good or bad for people and the environment. I'm not even going to get into that here.<br /><br />But I will remind you that PG&E is the "evil force" in the very true-to-life film, "Erin Brockovitch." According to the website of the real Ms. Brockovitch,<br /><br />"What PG&E did was real... As early as 1965 this company knew that the facility in Hinkley, California was contaminating the ground water with high levels of hexavalent chromium and they chose to cover it up."<br /><br />In 1996 PG&E was forced to pay $333 million in damages to the 600+ Hinkley residents involved in the lawsuit that made Erin famous.<br /><br />The trail continues for another point 8 miles from this spot. 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mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";} </style> <![endif]--> </a></p>And that is why we have nuclear power plants and poisoned drinking water in the first place.**<br /><br /><br /><br />* I calculated 255 people a day by subtracting 20 (the number of people allowed on the guided hike at PG&E's other accessible nature area, Poncho Coast Trail) from 275 (the total number of people allowed per day on the two trails combined.)<br /><br /><br /><br />** Not everyone forgets about it. In the early 1980's, construction of this plant was strongly protested. And, for more information about Erin Brockovich's continuing battle for the environment and public health, you can visit her website at: http://www.brockovich.com/mystory.html<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzVYFU7F9NFM5wwLFzxT-dyton_SrOV1f8LXergpTvc93XxUD1CRQ4DKE860AI6jm9vEt76e6PFObrleMM1WKGGK3MxlVRtM_2lmUPoUafR88trT69aCnSJxlEUUlG5MI7XjqFgxn-oRT/s1600/IMG_2663.JPG"><br /></a>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-34572014782258653302011-02-26T05:24:00.000-08:002011-02-26T06:58:10.836-08:00Field of GoldThis is going to be a short post, because I have a job interview at 8:45 this morning, followed by a 5 hour Salsa workshop. Then, I'm going to come home for a nap so I can have the energy to enjoy our neighbors' house warming party. It's a big full day, but no excuse for breaking my perfect record (so far!) of blogging every Saturday morning this year.<br /><br />Today I'm going to tell you why living on the Central Coast with a dog is very different than living here without one. At least, if the dog is the kind that needs lots of exercise and the person is the kind who feels guilty doing anything outside without the dog. Sometimes this obligation really gets on my nerves.<br /><br />I've only jogged the bluff trail in the Montana de Oro <span style="font-style: italic;">once</span> in three months, because Piper is not allowed. I used to do it every few days. I could be jogging through Cerro Cabrillo park and over to yoga class in Morro Bay once or twice a week...a double fitness blessing, if I had the heart to leave her at home. I never explore the canopied paths at Los Osos Oaks any more, or enjoy the view from Valencia Peak. All my old routines are ruined.<br /><br />But maybe that is okay, because I am forced to find new ones. For instance, one day I was driving toward SLO on Los Osos Valley Road when I realized I had no idea what was on the other side of our southern hills. So I turned onto Clark Valley Road and headed up into them thinking, "maybe there's a dirt road or a trail head up here when I can run with the dog."<br /><br />There wasn't, but there was some very interesting other stuff.<br /><br />First, I passed through some wide fields with green houses and horse fences. At one driveway there was a sign that said "POLO." I guess that means they have games back there. I'm going to look into it. Wouldn't that be fun to go watch!?<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNhXuKWtj9KF3UNVOdWJzKqoGR5D8kAlqNvOUe4YXxpH4Iwr3zthHhyWQ7KfarxwfeIHKnsKrZ62bBE8dhWJdRQ5xOPPP8j6SphRkbHYQIpbWyVYRYPV29fYlXAo6I9yiL1Zg4qwnSLHu/s1600/Polo+sign.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 348px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNhXuKWtj9KF3UNVOdWJzKqoGR5D8kAlqNvOUe4YXxpH4Iwr3zthHhyWQ7KfarxwfeIHKnsKrZ62bBE8dhWJdRQ5xOPPP8j6SphRkbHYQIpbWyVYRYPV29fYlXAo6I9yiL1Zg4qwnSLHu/s400/Polo+sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577997091419394690" border="0" /></a><br />I continued driving up up up... to a beautiful view of the valley behind me, and green groves ahead. (Sorry I couldn't take photos, the road was narrow and curvy with no good place to stop.) After a couple miles, the paved road switched to dirt and I hoped it would turn into an interesting and safe place to park the van and explore on foot. But it soon dead-ended on private property. I'd love get an invitation to visit those people, and see what it's like up on their land, and maybe I can. In addition to several "No Trespassing" and "PRIVATE" signs there was an ad for a Psychic. Someday I'm going to get all my friends together who are interested in such things and we're going to go up there and have some readings. ( I can't do it alone because I believe in psychics and I don't want to know my future any more than I want someone to tell me how a book ends before I've read it.)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ4EpdtLN87ysumWsuH_XzwHzfsdafS-g7xK9h54orzawmgOw-pR7CFGT8VQx9qG1RrPlz4DldWPEFIWTBUZtStt5LSqXYDItwMPW-O3Hz_F7TWtTFTrivS9QfvlggLy0taG_QnZU5kpK_/s1600/psychic+sign.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ4EpdtLN87ysumWsuH_XzwHzfsdafS-g7xK9h54orzawmgOw-pR7CFGT8VQx9qG1RrPlz4DldWPEFIWTBUZtStt5LSqXYDItwMPW-O3Hz_F7TWtTFTrivS9QfvlggLy0taG_QnZU5kpK_/s400/psychic+sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577998814889883394" border="0" /></a><br />Having gone as far as I could go, I turned around and headed back to Los Osos Valley Road (or the LOVeR, as we sometimes call it.) Just as I was about to turn onto it, I realized I had the option of going straight and exploring some more. What I'd thought was just the entrance into the Memorial Park was actually two narrow roads side by side. One swung into the park, the other extended past it, and around a curve. I couldn't see where it went, but I was excited to find out.<br /><br />And boy, was I met with a treat! A whole field full of baby goats. I didn't get very close to them, because it made their mama's nervous, so these pictures pretty poor. But even perfect photos couldn't show how adorable they were...toddling around and bleating in their tiny little voices.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjSn7ZXVBOW1KMmfB1cL72icy6G9W0DayJOUZuvxpWL-3HDt_414CWtjE098KYKzWkiz6fnlCLViM0mVR2iarIJs-_5if7LdvXAFRctB7Wd_K5W4gRD8nps2uDbWHT_nQNqwFajG0r_NC/s1600/mama+goat.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjSn7ZXVBOW1KMmfB1cL72icy6G9W0DayJOUZuvxpWL-3HDt_414CWtjE098KYKzWkiz6fnlCLViM0mVR2iarIJs-_5if7LdvXAFRctB7Wd_K5W4gRD8nps2uDbWHT_nQNqwFajG0r_NC/s400/mama+goat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578001107767540866" border="0" /></a><br />I don't know how old they were. Maybe just a few weeks? Some of them looked like they were still figuring out how to use their legs. They would spread them wide and strain their little necks trying to get at the grass. Then, if they still couldn't reach, they would pop up, fold both their knees into the air and just fall forward onto them. It looked to me like it hurt, but they seemed perfectly happy.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDvUusFsFLVn9i_LT-V61xipBfDZ_Ay-v61giWwe8bEyuq_-MvJI8vCE5Aw9fvVzneYiVhpAFlPLi9xFpv-_UOwfrBqkjawUxFkeBJlu1oNuwZFZKNpsNrCIEoKeiQr63R785f8mGMsX_/s1600/babies+eating+grass.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDvUusFsFLVn9i_LT-V61xipBfDZ_Ay-v61giWwe8bEyuq_-MvJI8vCE5Aw9fvVzneYiVhpAFlPLi9xFpv-_UOwfrBqkjawUxFkeBJlu1oNuwZFZKNpsNrCIEoKeiQr63R785f8mGMsX_/s400/babies+eating+grass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578002244355916370" border="0" /></a><br />Did you know that a happy baby goat will wag it's tail just like a puppy does!? I didn't, but they do.<br /><br />The road next to the goats was wide and even and unpaved, perfect for jogging with Piper. So, we set out to explore the rest of it on foot. It turned out to be a loop about a mile long, with some strange and beautiful elements.<br /><br />The strange thing was a railroad track! It was right in the middle of a little residential neighbor hood that is mostly hidden from the main road. The track wasn't a big one, as you can see, but it was long.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7IH3a5Q77AGSoU8hCr4XiaVtVEBtS6G6UAT_ZARdwWmL68DGhmTapzdeyDKGKq21iNq62RKQAM9BoLVpHVrwXB-1htPCD2LWTSBZrrCmPVhG3il8-Zl4fn7-RNeP6_vzF19h1ZNr-Bbp/s1600/tracks+and+shoe.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7IH3a5Q77AGSoU8hCr4XiaVtVEBtS6G6UAT_ZARdwWmL68DGhmTapzdeyDKGKq21iNq62RKQAM9BoLVpHVrwXB-1htPCD2LWTSBZrrCmPVhG3il8-Zl4fn7-RNeP6_vzF19h1ZNr-Bbp/s400/tracks+and+shoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578005018179171042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I first noticed it where it crossed the dirt road, and then went over a small bridge. It was old and beat-up, obviously not in use anymore. But it must have been at one time, because it stretched out along several different properties, running up hills and through back yards...crisscrossing the road at several places... branching off and rejoining itself numerous times. I felt like I was only seeing a small amount of the total track. I wanted to follow it, but it kept disappearing behind houses and under hedges.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJi9LoBEgVpvXa58OX17FiXk5B1jKvtsszarH1OHBfFDJozj91h0B5PLglN_XsMdakKqXcn_xFVVJmfXDyLiPdzaVNX9FZ5PdScjhaVpQ-1pPMmciz1IQGQZ7Tpb_ZgKyQe1Pdumgnwzo/s1600/tracks+through+yard.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJi9LoBEgVpvXa58OX17FiXk5B1jKvtsszarH1OHBfFDJozj91h0B5PLglN_XsMdakKqXcn_xFVVJmfXDyLiPdzaVNX9FZ5PdScjhaVpQ-1pPMmciz1IQGQZ7Tpb_ZgKyQe1Pdumgnwzo/s400/tracks+through+yard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578005363669109826" border="0" /></a><br /><br />What was the purpose of this tiny track? Was it a ride for kids? A vehicle for vegetables? A way for neighbors to loan each other yard tools without walking down the lane? And why was it left to fall apart? It's a mystery I'm going to solve. I'll let you know when I do.<br /><br />All these little things...the goats, the psychic, the railroad...where fun to discover. But the real delight of the day was this:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUz3nIh22WIgwVniZNcgg6PdKDQd12l8z9e5JbpfuVJlLbYIgwNUPCKkWj2DKORbuD09ESsvEg5ivwob-8wRJSxU2cVlw1MyyfVPSkx7NrHFtS_bC7xpvW6fedKmm-qh2MVKuo-Gp54YOB/s1600/big+yellow+field.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 49px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUz3nIh22WIgwVniZNcgg6PdKDQd12l8z9e5JbpfuVJlLbYIgwNUPCKkWj2DKORbuD09ESsvEg5ivwob-8wRJSxU2cVlw1MyyfVPSkx7NrHFtS_bC7xpvW6fedKmm-qh2MVKuo-Gp54YOB/s400/big+yellow+field.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577990817545963714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />An entire field full of yellow mustard.<br /><br />Of course, a photo, even a panoramic view pieced together from 7 different shots can't do it justice, even if you click on it to see it larger than it shows up right here. The intensity of color, the breadth of the view...there just isn't any way to capture that. I turned a corner and suddenly it was as if the world had turned to gold.<br /><br />In the distance you can see Hollister peak, and the chain of volcanic hills leading down to Morro Rock and the Pacific Ocean. You can even see The Rock itself, right where the hills end and the sky takes over as backdrop for the flowers.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykB7GilwRRMXfOBjJAQUU4_TiPXQ33HO89kx8J-zo1BD1GbS0C_tRwsVBANjvYCiJz-Yd9devnIvT9ULKa_fkzpRYJey2fPFUSGSDrt8YpI1U2wQl09Mqkx1aDStvxxa-vG3HVNmoqkBp/s1600/flower+field+and+rock.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykB7GilwRRMXfOBjJAQUU4_TiPXQ33HO89kx8J-zo1BD1GbS0C_tRwsVBANjvYCiJz-Yd9devnIvT9ULKa_fkzpRYJey2fPFUSGSDrt8YpI1U2wQl09Mqkx1aDStvxxa-vG3HVNmoqkBp/s400/flower+field+and+rock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578008977373363074" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As incredible as the view was...with the flowers stretching from here to the hills, where soft green folds and rocky outcrops reach up to touch the pearl blue sky...it wasn't the best part.<br /><br />The best part was the sound.<br /><br />I couldn't hear it at first. But as I got closer and closer, it started to swell all around me, the hummmmmmmmmmmm of bees! How many? I don't know. A hundred? A thousand? A million?<br /><br />Piper and I stood at the very edge of the field, stood still and just let the noise surround us. I tried to find the words to describe it to myself, but it was difficult.<br /><br />It was like a song without words...sweet sweet sweet as honey, but serious too, like the threat of getting stung. It was pure and high, but deep and grumbly. It sounded like one clean pure note, and also like all 88 piano keys being played at once. If those bees had been trying out for a Broadway play they might have been cast as a chorus of angels, or a den of angry bears, or waves crashing against a shore, or the air whistling past Alice's ears as she falls down into Wonderland.<br /><br />Forgive me for the attempts at poetry and metaphor. I try to steer away from that kind of writing, because I know it is usually just <span style="font-style: italic;">bad</span> writing. But I don't know how else to tell you about the bees. And I don't know if I want to tell you the next part at all.<br /><br />K and I went back the next day. I wanted to show her the goats, and the railroad, and of course, the field of gold. When we got there, the babies were just as cute as every, the track was just as mysterious, but the field...<br /><br />the field was gone.<br /><br />It had been completely plowed under. Nothing was left but mud and tire tracks. I tried not to be sad about it. This is an agricultural community and I support the farmers in whatever they need to do to grow their crops and care for the land.<br /><br />I'm just grateful I got to see it, and hear it, while it was there.<br /><br />Thank you, Piper! Without you, I would have missed it all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUz3nIh22WIgwVniZNcgg6PdKDQd12l8z9e5JbpfuVJlLbYIgwNUPCKkWj2DKORbuD09ESsvEg5ivwob-8wRJSxU2cVlw1MyyfVPSkx7NrHFtS_bC7xpvW6fedKmm-qh2MVKuo-Gp54YOB/s1600/big+yellow+field.jpg"><br /></a>M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416088367539664794.post-85317265915464634502011-02-19T08:56:00.000-08:002011-02-26T05:24:27.064-08:00Dragon, Fairy, Duckling, SwanLast Saturday was a big day for dancing. Or rather, watching other people do it.<br /><br />In the afternoon, K and I went to "Volumes of Pleasure" our little local Los Osos bookstore, to watch the Cal Poly Dragon Dance Team's performance at the Chinese New Year celebration. I don't know anything about Chinese New Year, so I'm sure there was all kinds of symbolism and tradition that I missed out on. But it was still an awful lot of fun.<br /><br />They had cleared their parking lot to make room for two huge dragons.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUvW7nkt1moHeO6g2f_e-js8Ew1GLCr1E-N6cgyTp-JvVFGqBrZnIuMS89zNr23i7H9455Hh6VQObLoclGdM7uFp-SwEF-Wp7-A6Q5-JQ_bLgjf67Vg2_XBG1i0qLTtj39HLkskbZLN4d/s1600/looks+menacing.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUvW7nkt1moHeO6g2f_e-js8Ew1GLCr1E-N6cgyTp-JvVFGqBrZnIuMS89zNr23i7H9455Hh6VQObLoclGdM7uFp-SwEF-Wp7-A6Q5-JQ_bLgjf67Vg2_XBG1i0qLTtj39HLkskbZLN4d/s400/looks+menacing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575439586459053090" border="0" /></a><br />And their band.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCAL9-VgaM4xYADyj2blV86Eyuzg5ZppAq_lJDnSBaU1QZSY-WbbLX4toAYFN2qz0BCHqTGVLTQXaMS89nDIRVpLLKN5OnYmIIy0n7DVXoxenthZ7QHCEg6jyJ5KOoKHr6WfuxSI8IjDD/s1600/the+band.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCAL9-VgaM4xYADyj2blV86Eyuzg5ZppAq_lJDnSBaU1QZSY-WbbLX4toAYFN2qz0BCHqTGVLTQXaMS89nDIRVpLLKN5OnYmIIy0n7DVXoxenthZ7QHCEg6jyJ5KOoKHr6WfuxSI8IjDD/s400/the+band.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575439606909607106" border="0" /></a><br />I don't think I'd ever seen dragon dancers before. I couldn't believe how easy it was to forget about the people inside and almost believe we were watching real dragons. Maybe that's because I grew up with Sesame Street and The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Muppets</span>. All those hours watching "Pigs in Space" must have trained my brain to accept soft-sculpture animals as another kind of life-form.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7wRZGYuelTuCzkvt4pZAexWBKsomLaawhyphenhyphenQICbe7Kht92CDGCnGoj1hVnnm_76sVWTw-fK_gZogy-od_Onk67DVN0gyE6mGrh-L4C2kLszJd2rJbgdilVfT1eD3x5m8gEtnsFl1PtzZj/s1600/pony+foot.jpg"><br /></a><br />There were a bunch of little kids in strollers watching from the sidelines. I tried to imagine what they must be thinking. They were at that age where Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy are all real. Why couldn't the New Year's Dragons be real too? They certainly had a lot of personality; prancing around like ponies and tossing their manes like lions.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7wRZGYuelTuCzkvt4pZAexWBKsomLaawhyphenhyphenQICbe7Kht92CDGCnGoj1hVnnm_76sVWTw-fK_gZogy-od_Onk67DVN0gyE6mGrh-L4C2kLszJd2rJbgdilVfT1eD3x5m8gEtnsFl1PtzZj/s1600/pony+foot.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7wRZGYuelTuCzkvt4pZAexWBKsomLaawhyphenhyphenQICbe7Kht92CDGCnGoj1hVnnm_76sVWTw-fK_gZogy-od_Onk67DVN0gyE6mGrh-L4C2kLszJd2rJbgdilVfT1eD3x5m8gEtnsFl1PtzZj/s400/pony+foot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575439593998753874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeIipD_2MM03pWz5xgWQqiUtWWC4PRmZ-5rSikekZbgWnBqvgRElX_QmVVbjMBDwwpiC1Rh80cp3eE3ojoFk2wUdrrQ_r21cjyDgd1hjSJZDXbPBNQQ1S7hzRCikaClZS52G9Z6L-qYam/s1600/standing+up.jpg"><br /></a><br />At the culmination of the performance, the Dragons stood up tall on their hind feet and the white one managed to bite and "swallow" a cabbage that was hanging from the bookstores awning. I'm going to have to find out what the symbolism of this was. And why it spit out a cloud of cabbage bits at the crowd afterward.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeIipD_2MM03pWz5xgWQqiUtWWC4PRmZ-5rSikekZbgWnBqvgRElX_QmVVbjMBDwwpiC1Rh80cp3eE3ojoFk2wUdrrQ_r21cjyDgd1hjSJZDXbPBNQQ1S7hzRCikaClZS52G9Z6L-qYam/s1600/standing+up.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeIipD_2MM03pWz5xgWQqiUtWWC4PRmZ-5rSikekZbgWnBqvgRElX_QmVVbjMBDwwpiC1Rh80cp3eE3ojoFk2wUdrrQ_r21cjyDgd1hjSJZDXbPBNQQ1S7hzRCikaClZS52G9Z6L-qYam/s400/standing+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575439599691313938" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvn7d5APmH_qo-h4fObS4a5XBiSegwoDHQI1PfF0E3OYvCm1O6BWuf_S4spA0FQhHw3fcFczz_6fFddsRA43zfXPqm-z1MzneHDLx3MXw0PLJr3_4fqzbEYNjq-9c9hjNqXOafGe3M9Qq/s1600/dancers+revealed.jpg"><br /></a><br />It was really a dramatic and impressive performance, especially when the dancers revealed them selves and we realized that the front-legs of the white dragon were played by a pretty big guy. Imagine how much strength and balance the hind-legs dancer must have in order to do the standing up <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">maneuver</span>.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvn7d5APmH_qo-h4fObS4a5XBiSegwoDHQI1PfF0E3OYvCm1O6BWuf_S4spA0FQhHw3fcFczz_6fFddsRA43zfXPqm-z1MzneHDLx3MXw0PLJr3_4fqzbEYNjq-9c9hjNqXOafGe3M9Qq/s1600/dancers+revealed.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvn7d5APmH_qo-h4fObS4a5XBiSegwoDHQI1PfF0E3OYvCm1O6BWuf_S4spA0FQhHw3fcFczz_6fFddsRA43zfXPqm-z1MzneHDLx3MXw0PLJr3_4fqzbEYNjq-9c9hjNqXOafGe3M9Qq/s400/dancers+revealed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575439592300002674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Just by coincidence, I spent the evening watching more dancers from Cal Poly. But they were dressed very differently, and had a whole other set of "moves."<br /><br />Welcome to San Luis Obispo and the Cal Poly Mustang Ball DanceSport Competition!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKZ0DNlnYrQmfbf9JJHbOVZ3K0mNs0HXgOhEOkz5BJfAMRUzlpS43rUBOu6knVo28csPi1xbLJGEq0-teeEkbFys9i1tJIZXYN8D69gk5QeypocDYeamMIWkhm0ivWr-ZeT8n1qYv5EN4/s1600/three+pair.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 370px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKZ0DNlnYrQmfbf9JJHbOVZ3K0mNs0HXgOhEOkz5BJfAMRUzlpS43rUBOu6knVo28csPi1xbLJGEq0-teeEkbFys9i1tJIZXYN8D69gk5QeypocDYeamMIWkhm0ivWr-ZeT8n1qYv5EN4/s400/three+pair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575453077011300738" border="0" /></a><br />I actually debated about going to this. K didn't want to join me. I thought it might be the kind of thing that sounded like more fun that it actually would be. But I decided to go, and my sweet friend A decided to go too. Since she was with me, we would have had fun no matter what...but it was really a blast! We had a ball at the ball.<br /><br />We showed up a little late and the dancers were already in full swing. (West Coast Swing, that is.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMKT_Wwt8J9vW0Pxi3MQ-kKUz_v7M1hy2hWYFVuH6TtmFSDMUW9TjXU86rnD70AfHaHQP66sMgFDWsY0JL_TNm1Ohs-1AtmBQ2ewVMCB8b8r8DWUH7cRB2kUi3QAb3YWxFODxi1Ht25Bn/s1600/MVI_1503.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMKT_Wwt8J9vW0Pxi3MQ-kKUz_v7M1hy2hWYFVuH6TtmFSDMUW9TjXU86rnD70AfHaHQP66sMgFDWsY0JL_TNm1Ohs-1AtmBQ2ewVMCB8b8r8DWUH7cRB2kUi3QAb3YWxFODxi1Ht25Bn/s400/MVI_1503.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575451705788318642" border="0" /></a><br />There was also Salsa, and Tango, and Waltzing and Fox Trot and some other dances I couldn't identify for sure. We couldn't really hear or understand the announcer, so we had to make the best sense of things we could just by watching.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyCURdE0yJplwZoRiVoSX0Wa9d4tQ2P_L_rn1V4_NeeGb1rkgOYiv7dAqUte3vjG74w-ZwF69wTBqWXPjUp075_v8UZSPsCL2jZRP35FRRIMYWBul8TN7cgn2nobvzqUr8_QzwbI1kE4r/s1600/couple+in+black.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyCURdE0yJplwZoRiVoSX0Wa9d4tQ2P_L_rn1V4_NeeGb1rkgOYiv7dAqUte3vjG74w-ZwF69wTBqWXPjUp075_v8UZSPsCL2jZRP35FRRIMYWBul8TN7cgn2nobvzqUr8_QzwbI1kE4r/s400/couple+in+black.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575453088872975698" border="0" /></a> The first hour seemed to be competitions for the beginner and intermediate dancers. They danced in big groups of maybe a dozen couples at a time. Between every song, half the people would stay, half would leave, and a bunch of new pairs would pour in from the chairs set up on both sides of the dance floor. We gave up trying to figure out what was happening, and who was winning. It was entertaining enough just watching them twist and shuffle and spin. But then something happened we could understand.<br /><br />The announcers cleared the floor and invited any one to come up and dance who wanted to. But they couldn't dance with their own partner or anyone else they had already danced with that evening. It was delightful watching them all scramble around searching for a stranger they could pair up with. At some point it became obvious that there weren't enough guys to go around. As soon as the announcer said this out loud, half a dozen men sprang from the audience, almost falling over themselves as they dashed to the stage. It was thrilling, and touching. They ran toward those left-over girls like they were saving them from a fire, or drowning or Chinese Dragons. I wish someone had run to me like that every time I was picked last in gym class.<br /><br />When the music started, the judges walked around tapping couples on the shoulder, just like in "It's a Wonderful Life" except that the floor didn't open up onto a swimming pool later on. Once half the crowd had been eliminated, they made every one find a new stranger and dance some more. After the second elimination, they made it even more interesting. "Now," they said, "Ladies lead!" This made it obvious who the really good dancers were. It was wonderful watching the women take charge and twirl their boy partners around like tops. And the not-as-good dancers were pretty entertaining too, as they struggled and fumbled through turns and passes they knew by heart from the other side.<br /><br />As the "Jack and Jill" contest (I think that's what they called it) came to a close, I could feel excitement building in the seats behind me. When I turned to look, I saw that the evening was about to step up to another level. All the contestants so far had been dressed nice, in cute little skirts and pressed pants. But these ladies were decked out in brightly colored formal ballgowns with sparkles and tulle and feather boas trailing behind. Their partners wore tuxedos with bow ties and spats.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GUT8bMA4ke1-jAm9aBFVp1_2H2z9fGVdN8f0vCuJ4NiCpfBcN_q915yeXgK2r3C4u8ym-EDlrGoHL_JyHWvEa1U9NwBtRz5hRDi8gBpPlVScMtCCJ94NEjc6PhC5lwTvJBZZUaztlCRy/s1600/green+dress.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GUT8bMA4ke1-jAm9aBFVp1_2H2z9fGVdN8f0vCuJ4NiCpfBcN_q915yeXgK2r3C4u8ym-EDlrGoHL_JyHWvEa1U9NwBtRz5hRDi8gBpPlVScMtCCJ94NEjc6PhC5lwTvJBZZUaztlCRy/s400/green+dress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575453087135091250" border="0" /></a><br />Of course, once they got into the good light, they didn't stand still for long. But, I was able to get a couple of shots that show how elaborate their outfits were.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOz8Tt9VxtWFLcnItZfjm7dkWWilCSDtd13IwQpJcs7aHgYpcGA859YRQUIFHLQbV0AsyBVeyX4TvS7vg9OnnIVqK4Hpqdua1I8_EQA07Mo992hRfFo-QAucXQGUW6EDZB5Ns6NpRYSGw/s1600/black+dress.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOz8Tt9VxtWFLcnItZfjm7dkWWilCSDtd13IwQpJcs7aHgYpcGA859YRQUIFHLQbV0AsyBVeyX4TvS7vg9OnnIVqK4Hpqdua1I8_EQA07Mo992hRfFo-QAucXQGUW6EDZB5Ns6NpRYSGw/s400/black+dress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575453082035709346" border="0" /></a><br />But I couldn't capture how graceful they were, or how quickly they glided across the floor.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FNG4x3aNpEGtDCaRoRljYFyKMTlMQIGU4L-89I6hp5RlZvlNisHBfrcpl7eYWw4NoGzpy2vkarQRFqqu8LMJMfrHSJdMM4lEQJ6R-DU1liuLkaazecWjFdy2Pn7IsxG6zW7nQ690_t4S/s1600/triplets.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FNG4x3aNpEGtDCaRoRljYFyKMTlMQIGU4L-89I6hp5RlZvlNisHBfrcpl7eYWw4NoGzpy2vkarQRFqqu8LMJMfrHSJdMM4lEQJ6R-DU1liuLkaazecWjFdy2Pn7IsxG6zW7nQ690_t4S/s400/triplets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575451702178840338" border="0" /></a><br />Until this part of the evening, it had been impossible for us to figure out who was winning or losing. The announcers didn't state it clearly and we were ignorant of the systems and codes that the dance community seemed to take for granted. But we knew who won the formal ballroom competition, because they walked away with a huge trophy!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSI8HdZ3Q05dIfB6TRUo0w06pA-buzXwE6kpfYoUu2_4mXAnZ31AVznly2uA5zgepsd-tewDpKZwCH0Dz-Ekhg4CFssqN_NOGNVtEfuIHPNyP7stipo_iEa081sYxvNxpYpDaFbzLMOZYq/s1600/yellow.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSI8HdZ3Q05dIfB6TRUo0w06pA-buzXwE6kpfYoUu2_4mXAnZ31AVznly2uA5zgepsd-tewDpKZwCH0Dz-Ekhg4CFssqN_NOGNVtEfuIHPNyP7stipo_iEa081sYxvNxpYpDaFbzLMOZYq/s400/yellow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575464888384939682" border="0" /></a><br /><br />To our surprise, it was this couple. At the beginning, I thought there was no way the girl in the yellow dress could win. She was beautiful, but significantly shorter than her partner. She was much shorter than all the other girls. And, even for a short person, she had really short legs. Shorter than you would expect for someone of that height. Certainly too short to carry her around the dance floor with the same speed and ease as the others. That's what I thought and I was wrong. She was fantastic. She must have been working twice as hard as everyone else, but you would never have known it. She looked like a fairy out there, just floating along like a wish blown through dandelion fluff.<br /><br />The next surprise of the evening was even better.<br /><br />Back when I had been craning my next to see what was happening behind me, I noticed a small sad-looking person sitting all alone. She was curled up on the hard plastic seat like a lost puppy. She looked exhausted, and cold. Her hair was pulled back tight like maybe she didn't bother to comb it after getting it wet, but just pushed it flat to her head. She had too much make-up on. It was smudged and gave the impression of dark bluish caves swallowing her eyes. Worst of all, she was dressed in a baggy gray sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder. She didn't see to be wearing much of anything at all underneath. Whatever it was seemed to be falling apart in shreds. Looking at her, I thought about that Hans Christian Anderson story, "The Little Matchgirl." I mean, she didn't look like she was about to join her dead grandmother or anything. But, she looked like she could have played the part convincingly.<br /><br />I tried to forget about her while I turned my attention to the glamorous dancers on stage. They were certainly a lot more pleasing to look at. And when they were done, it was time for a solo performance from the best dancers we had seen yet!<br /><br />They were incredible! Sexy and fun, with fast footwork and beautiful bodies. I could not take my eyes off them. Especially the girl.<br /><br />She had a real 1940's look about her, with her curvy little figure, heart-shaped face and perfect pink bow of a mouth. She danced like a snake, or a fox, or a leopard. Think of every animal you know that embodies speed and grace and flexibility, combine them all in one human body, set it to Latin music and you will have some idea of how she moved.<br /><br />And her outfit! Oh my goodness, if you can even call it that. I mean, it seemed to <span style="font-style: italic;">fit</span>...and it sure let a lot of her body hang <span style="font-style: italic;">out</span>. So, I guess that's as good a word as any to describe it. But, I certainly wouldn't call it a dress. It was more like an assortment of sparkling black scarves, carefully arranged to look like they might be falling off at any moment. I usually wouldn't approve of such a costume, but somehow she made it work. It was unnerving to watch her. I felt like I never knew which part of her skin was going to be showing through next. But it was unnerving in a way that just added to the excitement, suspense and surprise of their flawlessly executed routine. And she embodied such a perfect balance between being fit and well-fed, that I didn't mind getting peeks at her lower back, waist and thighs.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFDAPnt53Ldp_7bFBrIXj_3ejQ8gT88Ey4vAhQtsiAp-DtKwtNnFWRK5x2N1n7MGrcUKu9iyWM3KxJSAwEQL-6DZoxirNRVO-DOSSfLXOqAfZjnw2Dj5KwXgc1F8GBwazhwgJBG7piwnt/s1600/shimmer+girl.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFDAPnt53Ldp_7bFBrIXj_3ejQ8gT88Ey4vAhQtsiAp-DtKwtNnFWRK5x2N1n7MGrcUKu9iyWM3KxJSAwEQL-6DZoxirNRVO-DOSSfLXOqAfZjnw2Dj5KwXgc1F8GBwazhwgJBG7piwnt/s400/shimmer+girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575451710939832386" border="0" /></a><br />She just looked too healthy and vibrant to ever look obscene, or trashy, or cheap.<br /><br />Or pitiful.<br /><br />Except, of course. When she wasn't dancing!<br /><br />That's right. If you haven't guessed already, this was the Little Matchgirl who had been sitting behind me!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOoaldCQ1UQUUH8W9ycJPzHarXIACaBCA4nBvyHUigOKpnupkJL0VahQDJnKSw5EDa_x8j6CFP1B-nh6E8tTsD5YO4nqNWNVaTqGcX3LtplPFgF2_q1lx5suQam8zVS6AiDhBMLUU9pLt/s1600/shimmer+girl+iii.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOoaldCQ1UQUUH8W9ycJPzHarXIACaBCA4nBvyHUigOKpnupkJL0VahQDJnKSw5EDa_x8j6CFP1B-nh6E8tTsD5YO4nqNWNVaTqGcX3LtplPFgF2_q1lx5suQam8zVS6AiDhBMLUU9pLt/s400/shimmer+girl+iii.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575453099485574306" border="0" /></a><br />I guess she had just been saving up her energy for her big performance. And boy am I glad she did. She, and her partner, were absolutely FABULOUS.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSseHHtbpYNjeQ4HERczS_NqViWG1_ru22327R8_1ErJIBVe7dA5kfL8W58QLFhfSkK51sETOGUlzn1C6fXTJmYhaXvmwIw2HUN1uq_cTUKvvBetlP9baLvgrAHxJkqYqfn6Nx0IY0NC38/s1600/shimmer+girl+ii.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 353px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSseHHtbpYNjeQ4HERczS_NqViWG1_ru22327R8_1ErJIBVe7dA5kfL8W58QLFhfSkK51sETOGUlzn1C6fXTJmYhaXvmwIw2HUN1uq_cTUKvvBetlP9baLvgrAHxJkqYqfn6Nx0IY0NC38/s400/shimmer+girl+ii.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575451706959792002" border="0" /></a><br />I guess she wasn't The Little Matchgirl after all. She was The Ugly Duckling who turned out to really be a swan.<br /><br />On the Chinese Calendar, we just entered the year of the Golden Rabbit. According to tradition, this is a year for catching our breath and calming our nerves. For those of us who feel like we've been huddling in a corner, or have been wishing we could, this might be the year we get the rest we need...so we'll be able to hit the dance floor like the swans we really are.<br /><br /><br /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Magic/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" />M.M.M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16352952576774962520noreply@blogger.com3