Tuesday, January 22, 2008


I really hate doing laundry. More than anything else, I think. More than doing dishes, more than going to the dentist, maybe more than doing taxes. Some pals/family just moved into a new spot in Bernal Heights with a washer/dryer in the garage so we were over straight away this weekend to deal with the mountainesque calamity of laundry that has been piling up in the house since I got back from North Carolina a few weeks ago. All told, I spent an entire day doing laundry, all the while feeling rather chained to a mound of dirty clothes and a pair of belching, vibrating machines. Since the house is still coming together after the move I amused myself with the 'to do' board on the fridge. In particular the bullet point regarding the disposal of the old fridge which still sat lifeless in the kitchen. It was really all I could do to keep it together, if you could even call it that.

This past weekend Chad, Erin, Val and I went for a hike up in Point Reyes. The days were still sunny and forgiving and, although daylight has been at a premium, we found a decent, ten mile hike, after a few false starts and vague arguments.

The trail followed a well-worn rut through the woods...

That got more overgrown and more surreal with every step that we took.

Until the trees thinned and gave way to a rocky path no doubt hovering just above a fault line of some importance.

And then finally spat us out on a ledge overlooking the Pacific.

It was a panorama that I have become familiar with out here, but it is no less incredible.

The sun set quickly, or I should say precisely at 5:37 pm, and we were less than halfway back to the car.

Just before sunset the sun and moon seemed to hold the same position in the sky like a pair of big, bleeding bright horses running neck and neck across the sky, or maybe just passing each other on their respective ways out.

It has been the moon's week though. Full tonight, I think, but bulging at the sides for the last four or five days and brighter than shit. Otherwise we may have ended up somewhere entirely different as we wandered back through the dark.

Unsteady, yet guiding the way.

We ended the day at Joe's Tacos which, to be perfectly honest was the catalyst, if not the entire reason for our day's journey. I have become a big fan of post-recreational gluttony as of late. It almost feels right and justified in a way. I like to go for a 20 mile bike ride and then eat a 2 pound cheeseburger and have a beer. I like to hike ten miles through the woods and wash that all down with a bowl of the most goddamn amazing black bean soup that the world has even known. And maybe a fish taco or two.

I have been feeling stagnant and needing a break lately, so I reserved this cabin for a bit. It will be cold and possibly grim, but I plan on siding up to a fire and contemplating the world for a while. I can't really imagine anything better in the wake of my Baja plans being crushed before my very eyes.

A Gathering Darkness.