DATELINE: SEPTEMBER 24, 2008. Friends John and Tom arrive from their respective destinations for a prolonged stroll with friends. I had not seen Tom in nearly a year, since our disastrous adventure in his former state of Arizona, and John since the prior year in Las Vegas.

The only way I can communicate the sheer horror of those previous adventures is with the following image:

The event began with John, Tom, and other friend Dave venturing to a diner somewhere in a vast sea of San Jose strip malls and eating burgers in the dark of night. After that: sleep.

THURSDAY

Seals!

Seals were on the menu as we drove to Monterey to audit the famous Monterey Aquarium. A brief stop near a roadside power planet yielded impressive sights of gigantic seals, the Birds of the Sea & Sky, and a lone otter conducting his business.

It was fascinating to observe the seals up close. These savage and meaty beasts were once harvested in great excess (and to great success) in far off lands such as Alaska’s Pribilof Islands. There local Aleuts aligned with the United States Government’s Alaska Sealskin Dept. and agents of the Fouke Fur Co. of St. Louis, Missouri made grand use of this blubbery resource. The high value of their furs meant large profits in the annual sealskin auctions administered by the aforementioned Fouke Fur Co.

In our modern era the sealskin has little if any value, giving these dumb beasts the leeway to loiter with impunity instead of getting shot and skinned on sight. I resisted the urge to take action, mostly due to my lack of action utensils such as guns and knives.

The main attraction of the day, the Monterey Aquarium, boasted an impressive collection of seafolk, including but not limited to: otters, fish, jellyfish, and life-size replicas of whales. There was also a hardy offering of birds, particularly those fond of the ocean and maritime lifestyle.

The aquarium did not feature any actual whales, probably due the incident documented in Star Trek IV where ornery time travelers stole the aquarium’s only whales.

Gazing into the vast tanks of emotionless fish wandering aimlessly was like looking at a mirror in some mad way. The harrowing sight of endless watery windows sparked a fury in John, who routinely expressed his desire to punch fish in the face for reasons beyond my comprehension.

After we had exhausted ourselves of fishwatching, we hit up a nearby Chili’s to fill up on meat and conversation. Then it was back to San Jose for some Trivial Pursuit, beer, and good times.

FRIDAY

Friday featured our greatest undertaking yet: the long and arduous drive to Yosemite. Yosemite is guarded by over one hundred miles of boring, uneventful terrain that looks like it was plucked from the black heart of America’s depressing Midwest. Eventually this blighted landscape gave way to hills and then, in time, hills with pine trees.

Yosemite itself was rather spectacular in nature, featuring a respectable collection of cliffs and mountains, including the famed Half Dome and El Capitan.

Tom, John, and I scrambled up a boulder field near the base of the Bridalveil Falls, gaining access to pleasant vistas and secret rainbows in the process. Bridalveil Falls was easily one of the tallest waterfalls I have personally observed, exceeding both Snoqualmie and Otter Falls in height.

Although the Ahwahneechee believed the waterfall to be home to a vengeful spirit, we noted no such phantom. So, through careful observation, we easily disproved centuries of foolish superstition on the part of the Ahwahneechee. Score one for Science & Reason.

The descent from the waterfall was quick and easy, emboldening us to try something more daring: an unprecedented vehicular ascent of Glacier Point. This turned out to be pretty easy, thanks to the presence of roads. From that high peak we could see much of the Yosemite Entertainment Complex, including the Half Dome. Many photos were snapped, but then it was time to hit the road and leave this magical place forever.

On the long drive back to San Jose we listened to the presidential debate and wondered if we would ever see the reassuring lights of civilization again. Then we saw a Denny’s and ate some food.

Hours later we were back in San Jose, in Dave’s car, driving past one strip mall after another. It was good to be back in the real world after so much nature.

SATURDAY

On Saturday morning we got rid of John, depositing him at Norman Y. Mineta International Airport (The Norm) and sending him back to the stygian depths of Orange County.

Tom, Dave, and I then headed to San Francisco, unaware that the opening of the new Science Academy would cause traffic to grind to a halt. After about 3 hours of traveling roughly 50 miles, we were beat. We wandered Haight Street for awhile, ignoring the menacing youths and their games of chance, then jumped in a cab and went to Espetus Churrascaria, a Brazilian BBQ.

While a bit pricy, Espetus rewards the customer with an endless menagerie of meat. Any restaurant where you pick meat off a sword with tongs is exceptional in my book, especially when the meat never stops coming. Espetus was utterly perverse on every conceivable level, and easily one of the top five meals of my entire life. But, by the time we got to the bacon-wrapped chicken, the unjust law of diminishing marginal utility stepped in and took all the fun away.

Fat from having consumed an abattoir’s worth of meat, we took a quick stroll over the Golden Gate Bridge. It was dark and cloaked in a ghostly fog, but still quite a sight. Originally constructed in 2071 BC, the Golden Gate Bridge remains one of the Seven Wonders of the World even to this day.

Somewhere in the midst of this journey I witnessed one of the most amazing things ever: an urban falconer. As though ripped from the pages of the Book of St. Albans, I saw a man walking carefree down the sidewalks of a major metropolitan city with a majestic bird of prey perched atop his gloved hand. If only such sights were more commonplace!

SUNDAY

With anger and hatred weighing heavily on our shoulders, Tom and I set out to San Jose’s Tech Museum to witness its archive of technological wonders. Strangely, this museum located in the rotten center of Silicon Valley was not a high-tech haven, but rather a disturbingly accurate simulation of what it was like to own a computer in 1993. Here was a celebration of the burgeoning prospects of computers: a new frontier of multimedia, colorful fonts, instantaneous communication, and 3-dimensional virtual reality cyberworlds. It was all rather sad and tragic.

After that, it was time to send Tom back to his home in Iowa City. All and all it was good seeing old friends Tom and John and adding some new adventures to our growing portfolio of fun.

Thus ends this important chapter in life and living.

Statistical Breakdown:

Rainbows Captured: 1
Urban Falconers Spotted: 1
Types of Animals Consumed in One Sitting: 6 (counting pineapple)
Averaged Total: 2.666

Filed under: Mysteries and Wonders, Exciting Times, The Horrors of Man, The Horrors of Science, Ornery Critters, Critters I Saw, The Horrors of Nature, Trip Reports, Life at the Outpost by Josh
No Comments »

Filed under: The Horrors of Man, Exciting Times, Mysteries and Wonders, Critters I Saw, Life at the Outpost by Josh
No Comments »

I would so enjoy that.

Filed under: The Horrors of Man, Exciting Times, Trip Reports, The Horrors of Nature, Life at the Outpost by Josh
No Comments »

Filed under: The Horrors of Man, Exciting Times, Mysteries and Wonders, The Horrors of Nature, Life at the Outpost by Josh
No Comments »

Please refer to Part 1 for additional exposition.

On Saturday morning I awoke to find myself in a strange cabin next to a seriously dead dog (in powder form).

“Not again,” I thought. Not again.

Tom was already stirring about the cabin, so I joined him. We steeled our respective resolves, secured the cabin, and then set out for the next stage of our journey: Sedona.

Sedona is a strange and magical land filled with amazing vistas and weird people. One of the most scenic places I have ever seen, Sedona has some of the finest rocks, stones, buttes, and hills in the world. There in its outstretched arms made of bright red rock, I saw the world’s only turquoise McDonald’s arches. The turquoise arches stood as a grand artistic statement, expertly toying with expectations and foolish presuppositions. Even the familiar was alien here. I must confess I felt somewhat afraid, but too excited to turn back.

Apparently there are a number of vortices in Sedona: strange truck stops along the spiritual highway where you can buy the new age idiot equivalent of ephedra, beef jerky, and t-shirts depicting stoic eagles posing in front of American flags. Thankfully these evil harmonic convergences left us alone to conduct our mundane business in peace. We did pass the setting of a psychic convention, though, and that was something special. I never saw it coming, unlike most of its attendees.

After eating some Mexican food, we ventured up a hill to some recreational area. We wandered around a bit, inspected some rocks and cacti, took many pictures and panoramas, strangled a hitchhiker with motel bed sheets, and then moved on.

Venturing past Sedona, we stopped near a bridge and made the short hike down to Oak Creek. I observed a lizard with a bifurcated tail near the Cicada-loud waters of Oak Creek. Easily the highlight of my life. Tom fidgeted around trying to take some long exposures of the creek’s turbulent waters, but failed miserably like he does in most of his endeavors, especially blogging.

On the way north we stopped at Slide Rock State Park because Tom, ever foolhardy, wanted to check it out. We stayed briefly to see if two youngsters would jump off a tall rock into the creek, not-so-secretly hoping to witness the birth of a permanent spinal cord injury. Alas, it was not to be. We returned to his car and continued on our journey into the Arizona highlands, which I incorrectly assumed would be full of bogs and nomadic pony herders.

Our next stop was Meteor Crater, a large hole in the ground formed by the murderous whims of outer space many years ago. While an impressive reminder that outer space is large and in charge, it did not seem so magical or grand as previous attractions. The Grand Canyon, for example, was a much more impressive hole in the ground. Meteor Crater was no more than a modest crater. And it was very windy. And the projector that played the educational Meteor Crater movie was three feet out of alignment with the screen. I don’t know how other crater museums conduct business, but I imagine they are far more professional.

If they wanted to make the Meteor Crater experience something special, they should put some smoke machines down in the bottom, and maybe get some green lights down there. Oh, and add some high-pitched squeals blasting out of hidden speakers. It looked entirely too sterile, and lacked the menace that most modern crater impacts present.

At the very least I have a coupon for a free cookie at Subway, though it is limited to “meteor crater locations only.” I suspect that, before my death, there may well be many more meteor crater locations. Also, cookies will increase in price, giving the card more value in the future.

After the crater, we went on a strange and inexplicable journey to eat at Sizzler, for reasons I can no longer remember or comprehend. When Sizzler proved nearly impossible to find, we attempted to eat at Outback. When Outback’s wait proved too long, we again looked for Sizzler. When we failed to find Sizzler, we ate at Village Inn. Then, on the way out of Village Inn, we drove past Sizzler. By then we had forgotten why we even wanted to eat at Sizzler anyway.

Hours later and we were back at the cabin, which was warm and comforting like a good dog prior to dying and being put inside a furnace and converted to ash by hellish fires. We drank beer, though I regretted my beer purchasing decisions immensely, and as such did not get as hella crunk as was envisioned.

I challenged Tom to a game of Trivial Pursuit, which dragged on for a couple hours due to our inability to answer sports questions. He was victorious in the end, having finally conquered his ignorance of sports. More than that, though, it was a victory for the sciences. We answered dozens and dozens of basic science questions correctly, which was amazing since we are both idiots.

In the morning we cleaned up our mess. Wobegone’s ashes were put back in the box, the lobsters removed from the hot tub, the raccoons set free, the fires put out, the vomit steamed out of the carpets, the laundry laundered, and all evidence that we were there erased. Hopefully, anyway.

We drove south on the Beeline, so named because of the vast many men who made the voyage down that trail during the Great Phoenix Honey Rush. Though the fabled Golden Hive was never found, many men still struck it rich with some of the lesser hives. We stopped in Payson and ate at the Beeline Café. You could almost smell the honey in the air and imagine a simpler time when men busied themselves like bees following actual bees in order to triangulate the location of nearby hives.

After Payson, Tom gave me a tour of Fountain Hills, which contains one of the world’s largest fountains, located in the center of a lake of “reclaimed waste water.” Looking at the color and consistency of the water, I would say that it was hastily reclaimed. We waited around about half an hour for the fountain to go off, then ran like hell when it started showering us with raw sewage.

When we got back to Phoenix, Tom insisted we climb the north face of Tempe Butte, known locally as “A” Mountain even though it is hardly a mountain and more like a small anthill. The journey was perilous and taxing, as it was very hot out and there wasn’t much of a trail and it involved climbing up a steep slope made of loose rocks. Apparently it is also full of bee nests, but we didn’t notice the dire admonitions until after the fact.

Once “A”Mountain was successfully conquered and the day nearing its end, we met up with Lucy, who had returned from Las Vegas. With her expert guidance, we made our way to a restaurant in a mall where I ate a potato the size of a St. Bernard’s heart. Lucy brought exciting gifts from that great cradle of the arts that is Las Vegas. I was graciously given a Romulan Ale bottle opener that, through sheer luck, opens non-Rumulan beverages as well.

The day was not without tragedy. The mighty Air Hog, which once soared so high above the earth like our friendship, was now incapable of meaningful flight. Apparently one of her engines suffered a mechanical failure, causing the old gal to fly spiral patterns toward the ground. The symbolism was not lost on us. Our friendship was flying spiral patterns into the ground because one of us wasn’t trying as hard. As a gentlemen I will refrain from naming names or pointing fingers.

Monday morning arrived and brought with it a mixture of sadness and relief. I went with Tom to IHOP, where we had our last meal together before geography would tear us apart forever. Shortly thereafter, he took me to Sky Harbor where I waited until a kindly plane flew me home. On my flight, I had the pleasure of watching the cinematic masterpiece NEXT. If you haven’t seen the movie, basically the last half of it is a dream. I also apologize for spoiling it.

Thus ends my adventure in Arizona.

Statistical Breakdown:

Cowboys/Lizards Spotted: 2
Bee Related Geography Noticed: 2 (Beeline Highway, Bumble Bee, AZ)
Miles Traveled: 875
Total Overall Score: 293

Filed under: The Horrors of Science, Fascinating Facts, Mysteries and Wonders, Exciting Times, Ornery Critters, Trip Reports, Attacks on Good Natured Men, Critters I Saw, The Horrors of Nature, Life at the Outpost by Josh
No Comments »

The sunny skies, supernumerary cactuses, colossal canyons, massive buttes, they were all mine for the taking. Tom “Moof” Davies, a fellow blogger and friend for a number of years, invited me into the bosom of his apartment in Phoenix, to audit his state and its bounty of offerings.

I arrived at Sky Harbor late Thursday evening, after an uneventful flight. Tom and his girlfriend Lucy collected me and my luggage at the airport and welcomed me to their state. Spirits were high, jokes were bad, and the myriad thoughts of strangulation were yet to surface.

From Tom’s apartment we walked a perilous route to Rustler’s Rooste, a giant steakhouse in the sky. It was a massive thing, with a living bull outside, slides inside, a country band playing music, rattlesnake on the menu, and an authentic air of the Wild West. I sipped my margarita and ate my popcorn rattlesnake just as the cowboys did before civilization took the fun out of everything.

In the hours after that, and with beers in hand, Tom and I flew an Air Hog around a golf course in the dark of night. It had been at least two months since I had last seen him, and in that time we both started balding. The Air Hog was a fine craft, and responded to all our demands for twists and turns. When her engines finally tired out, the two of us went and watched Prison Break, the finest and most intelligent show ever put on television.

When Friday morning arrived, Tom and I set out to Jerome, AZ, an old mining town and monument to the brutality of the frontier. It had since been overrun with hippies selling horrible art in some foul attempt to overwrite the town’s history of murder, gambling, prostitution, and lawlessness. Try as they might, the hippies were unable to ruin the town’s unique geography and decaying architecture. Though we were want for time and in a hurry, we managed to stop and take some pictures. But we could not linger long, for the Grand Canyon itself called out to us.

The drive to the Grand Canyon was long and taxing, taking us up over Mingus Mountain and then through a long expanse of simple land. Latent hostilities began to surface and the atmosphere of the car took on a poisonous quality. Hands often found themselves clenching down on air in some primitive attempt to make effigy out of the void. Tom began veering the car towards cliffs in hopes of ending me, and it took all my faculties to hold back on grabbing the wheel and hurtling his side of the car into an oncoming semi truck.

When we arrived, the canyon’s overwhelming majesty was enough to abate any anger. This great hole in the ground flowed with such magic that no man had time or inclination to dwell in his hatreds. Though the canyon was overcrowded with tourists speaking in alien tongues, we fought our way past to absorb as much as the majesty as was possible. Many pictures were taken, some good, some bad.

Though much hype surrounds the Grand Canyon, it truly does live up to its name. Her magnitude overwhelming, with wonder filling her to the brim. On our way out, a coyote approached the car and silently observed us. This ornery beast no doubt expected a free meal. There is simply no room in the Great Free Market of Life for such blatant parasitism, so we left it to fend for itself.

The drive back from the Grand Canyon was dark and tedious. Our destination was no less than Pine, AZ, a small little town home to cabins, trees, rocks, and little else. Hungry, we stopped at a Safeway in Flagstaff and purchased a great many hot dogs and accessories. A little over an hour later and we were in Pine, AZ, eating hot dogs in a lovely cabin bursting with bear themed figurines, wood carvings, and decorations. I slept on a comfortable bed not more than three feet from a table containing a small cardboard box. In that cardboard box were the ashes of Wobegone French, a dog I later learned died of heat stroke and then baked in a driveway for some hours before being discovered medium well.

The cabin belonged to the family of Tom’s girlfriend Lucy, who sadly could not join us on our journey due to prior commitments. The cabin was a real coup, and made the journey that much more pleasant. Its library of board games, vast assortment of bear decor, and utilities were far superior to anything a hotel could have offered, and meant that we would not have to return to Phoenix for some days.

Tom and I made it through our first full day without killing each other. The second day would no doubt prove much harder.

Thus ends the story for now. For now…

Filed under: Ornery Critters, Mysteries and Wonders, Exciting Times, Trip Reports, The Horrors of Nature, Attacks on Good Natured Men, Critters I Saw, Life at the Outpost by Josh
1 Comment »