Backpacking the blues away

Since Taylor and I were both feeling the itch for an outdoor excursion, we decided to take a short backpacking trip along the Lost Coast. For those that aren't familiar, the Lost Coast is a huge portion of undeveloped coastline along Northern Mendocino county and Southern Humbolt county. There are over 20 miles of trail to explore, but tackling the whole thing is a bit more endeavor than we had time for. So, we decided on a short over-nighter through some of the tougher parts. The difficulty came from several ascents and descents crossing gulches that carve the steep coastal cliffs. As is usually the case, the views were worth the climb.

The hike reminded me that only a year ago I had the luxury of doing this for a living and with that thought came a pang of sadness that lasted not more than a microsecond as I took in the fresh air and sights. Anyone who has gone on a hike with me, especially after I've suffered the suffocating lack of significant outdoor exposure, can tell you my change in mood is drastically noticeable. My mother can even see it in pictures. These places, these things I do, the creatures I encounter fill me up until I feel like I might burst. See, this is me right before I exploded with joy:

We camped at Anderson gulch, watched the sun set behind the cliffs and sink below the Pacific. And whaddya know, a spotted owl announced the arrival of nightfall with a few calls and crow barks. After packing up the following morning, I decided to examine the stream before we began our strenuous hike back. Lo and behold, there is the animal I've been hoping to see ever since I first moved to Mendocino county in 2007: a Pacific giant salamander. It was still a larva, having yet to reach its impressive, near foot-long adult form, but I still found it thrilling.

On our way out, we were sure to revisit the mushroom patch we discovered on the way in. And this was no mere mushroom patch, let me tell you, this was the motherload...the jackpot of all chanterelle patches. If we had been so inclined, we could have hauled three-four bags full of the biggest yellow chanterelles I've ever seen. But seeing as neither Taylor nor myself were feeling particularly greedy, we selected enough to fill a bag and left the rest to nature. Maybe a passing bear will make a hefty meal out of what we left behind. After a discovery like this, we caught the mushroom hunting bug and have since been scouring the forest surrounding our home. The past couple weeks we have been eating like kings: dishes you would pay $15, $20, even $30 for in some stuffy, upscale restaurant. Sauteed chicken and chanterelles in a white wine tarragon sauce, fresh crab (caught that day by Andy) and pasta with chanterelles in a cream sauce, pig's ear mushroom burgers, cream of chanterelle soup...I don't think I will ever eat this good again in my life. But aside from the edible varieties, our "backyard" holds a multitude of strangely-shaped, brightly colored, unusually textured mushrooms. One of my favorites is what's called an earthstar. This other-worldly looking thing picture here. If you touch it in anyway, it shoots out a whispy puff of spores from the small opening on top its bulbous center.

So this is fall in Mendocino, actually winter is pretty much the same except wetter. I'm excited to be spending the holidays here again, but after December, you better believe I'm looking to split. We'll see how my interview goes. Here's hoping I'll be Georgia-bound come 2010.

Plans

Or lack thereof, I should say. Solid plans elude me. I reach, like a coral polyp's tentacle, seeking even the smallest morsel in the expanse of sea surrounding me. The water offers no reward this time of year. And so I hunger...

I'm not sure I can find the patience to remain at the winery until the seas become more plentiful. The spring bounty of wildlife work is so far from now. But in these limited times, what else is there to do but wait. I have one prospect, which would be my saving grace. But with the way my luck has been these days, I try not to get too hopeful.

Limbo Part 2

So after all that, I find out I wasn't selected for the very perfect desert tortoise grad project. True to my nature, I spent the evening acting like it was the end of the world. The next day I was skipping around the county fair concerned more about who was going to brave the "Zipper" with me before the night was through. I am a notorious over-reactor, but a quick re-bounder. I find it a good balance.

The search continues...

Limbo

Ok, so I lied and updating took me longer than I thought. The picture was just a screensaver-type ploy to buy me more time. Guess it didn't work! ha

Summer has passed in a frenetic blur as usual. I spent time in four different states (CA, IL, NC, GA), entertained multiple visitors from Chicago and the East coast, climbed mountains, hunted salamanders, foraged, camped, danced, cooked and worked...just a little. Now I find myself floating in that wildly uncomfortable state of limbo. Waiting and waiting and waiting to hear from Tucson, mulling over my options, sloshing them about my slightly aching head (I find myself often on the brink of a headache more days than not...one that never completely materializes, which needless to say is irritating enough). Luckily though, California this time of year is primed. The beauty is enough to make you cry, if of course, you were a huge wuss. Fall and all its wondrous accessories approaches. Our apple and pear trees are bursting, zucchini bread is being baked as I type, wildlife is being sighted on the streets (I saw a bear and a ringtail on the way home from work...ringtails are very rarely seen, they look like this:)

the first rains of the season are starting, the county fair is coming up this weekend, grapes are being picked and crushed by cheap, immigrant labor...it's everything you would expect. And to further amplify the enjoyment of the season in as nerdy a way as possible, Taylor bought a scope for bird watching after years of weighing the benefits vs. the cost (he's not exactly a raging consumer). For those of you less attuned to natural cycles, fall is the time for many a bird to make the long migratory haul back to whence they came after a summer of amorous mischief. With the wonders of curved glass at our disposal, we've seen birds in greater detail than ever before...seems like an insignificant thing to get excited over, but you've never watched a Peregrine falcon bathing in a pool on a remote beach. So despite the anxiety thickly permeating the air lately, there have been many pleasant distractions. I welcome them all! Anything to pass the time until I leave California...and I will leave one way or another, even if school doesn't pan out this time around.

Chicago in 8 days

I did more in 8 days in Chicago than I've done in the months since I've moved back to California. Oh the city life!
-band/bar cruising w/ Jason and his lovely girlfriend
-scoping out a newly restored section of lake shore, native plants reemerging without any help!
-Museum of Science and Industry, getting my nerd on at the Harry Potter exhibit
-karaoke with Joey and the Tuck's crew
-grilled steak and veggie feast as only Dad can do
-White sox baseball! right behind the bullpen, Dye's home run mere feet away!
-long run on the lake front, all the familiar sights along the way (museums, buckingham fountain, skyline and navy pier)
-toasting the newly engaged with bubbly and burgers...there's a fancy combo
-my first 10K race at Lincoln Park Zoo, and of course walking around the zoo afterwards...I was very impressed with their enclosure designs
-volunteering with Mom to clear some invasive vegetation...scored free t-shirts
-brunch with one of my favorite people!

About the only thing I didn't get to do as planned was revisit the marshy wonders of Lockport Prairie and chase me down some herps. Next time...

Concerning Running

So I'm going to elaborate on my new-found hobby because it excites me. Now most of you know, I am not built like a runner. The gene pool is limited people; the Aiellos are not a tall, lanky sort. I think of myself less like the galloping steed and more like the plodding donkey. I mean no offense to myself...I'm a proud plodder. At a slow and steady pace I have tackled some hefty hikes. Heave a load onto my back and I'm ready to go! There are even times when I repeat to myself "slow and steady like the mule" as a sort of mantra to get me past the tough slopes. Still, I have always envied those toned-legged specimens that zip past at a light and graceful pace. So, in a stubborn attempt to defy the gods I have taken a more serious approach to running as of March-April. At first, things didn't look good. Some days it was torture, and I seemed deadlocked on 3 miles... unable to advance in distance. The fact that every road around here involves endless ups and downs only made things worse. Curse these squat legs of mine! Then one day, it just clicked. I paid attention to my pacing, controlled my breathing, and suddenly 30 min became 40, 40 became 60. I find myself comfortably covering 6 1/2 miles without feeling like I was dragged through hell and back. I could go further, but now my major deterrent is finding the time. A half hour is so much easier to fit into my schedule than 1 hour+. Sometimes I get home from work, go for a run and suddenly it's 8 o'clock and I've yet to eat dinner! As much as I am enjoying this new physical activity, I refuse to rouse myself at 5 in the morning just to fit in a workout. But in light of my achievements, I thought a race or two might be an appropriate celebration. I don't mean racing to place, just to finish and support whatever cause may be benefitting. So, I signed up for a 10K at Lincoln Park Zoo during the time I'll be visiting home in June. I ran the 5K race for the cure in Lubbock and had a grand time. And now that I'm a trot or two above a donkey, the 10K should be a breeze.

I haven't updated in awhile, but not much has changed. I've settled into a comfortable routine that involves quite a bit of work and sporadic time for play. I spend Monday night in the field with Taylor, Wed-Sat sometimes Wed-Sun in the tasting room, and various hours throughout the week entering data and such. Without the luxury of a gym, I've become somewhat of a runner. Five to six days a week I run, and Tuesday nights are my fitness class in Fort Bragg (the nearest town North of Mendocino). Workout time is crucial time for me. I cannot survive my day-to-day without the regular release of endorphins. Field work used to take care of that, but now I have to fit it into my down time. The rest is spent cooking, baking or watching Battlestar Galactica (Taylor and I are a tad obsessed with this show). Not a whole lot of room for fun and adventure, but I have planned some exciting events here and there: trip to Chicago first week of June, High Sierra Music Festival in July, Utah excursion in the fall? It gets hazier the further into the future we go.

Mendocino is just about at its peak right now. Spring and early summer is a stunning time to be here. Foggy mid-summer will be less invigorating. And then there's the mixed blessing of additional tourism traffic. Sure, I'll make more money as the RV's and BMW's come a rollin' in but there's also a fair bit of annoyance as "my town" (I like to pretend I'm local) is overrun by men sporting Eddie Bauer capri shorts and tacky vacation shirts complete with trophy wives sipping wine with their new and frightening post-surgery lips. Oh the things I'd love to say to these people! That's California for you.