October 2007 Archives

Garrapata State Park is located on the California coast, just south of Point Lobos State Reserve and Carmel Highlands on Highway 1. It is an unassuming park, a model of modesty. It offers one of the central coast's most scenic hikes, but doesn't have a single sign along the highway bragging about its presence. A metal barn, an unmarked turnout, and row of cypresses are the only clues a potential visitor has of its existence.

Luckily, I spotted those clues, which saved me from the miles of searching and backtracking I was expecting. It was cool and breezy morning on Friday and I was glad I had worn my long-sleeve hiking shirt. I also had my windbreaker tucked in my backpack just in case the wind picked up at the top of Doud Peak, my intended destination.

After suiting up (putting on boots, sunscreen, and a hat), I hopped across the highway to take photos of the ocean before starting up the Rocky Ridge Trail, past the metal barn that would be a point of reference for the first half of the hike.

It is a strenuous six-mile roundtrip trek to Doud Peak, named after Francis Doud, who operated a ranch on the land from the 1890s to the 1950s. The climbing began almost immediately and so did the views.

I was so distracted by the photo opportunities that I hiked a quarter mile before realizing I had left my hiking poles on top of the car trunk. After thirty seconds of Dobby-like self-flagellation, I turned around and ran to get them.

Five minutes later, I was back at the same spot, sweaty, slightly out of breath, and wondering why I had worn a long-sleeve shirt. As luck would have it, the poles I retrieved would prove to be invaluable later.

For the first two miles, the steep trail climbed through coastal scrub. I kept a slow, steady pace and took several photo breaks along the way. It was scary how fast the barn shrank. One moment it was life-sized; the next moment it was O scale.

At an overlook with a bench embedded in rock, I took a short snack break. The sound of highway traffic had finally disappeared, and it was replaced by the call of sea lions and the occasional cry of a circling falcon. It would have been the perfect place to read and gaze at the horizon if it weren’t for the gnats and flies buzzing about.

Eventually, the coastal scrub gave way to grassland and the steep uphill climb became a stroll over rolling hills. Because the park doesn’t contain a single sign, I initially thought I was at the peak, but then I noticed the trail continued east until it terminated at an unremarkable looking hill that was slightly taller than the hill I was standing on.

I trekked to the top of the taller hill, which I’m fairly certain is Doud Peak. From the top, I could see Monterey...

...and the tip of Carmel.

By now, it was early afternoon and the wind was picking up. I took it as a sign to begin my descent.

I retraced my steps until I reached an unmarked branch in the trail, which is the southbound leg of the Rocky Ridge Trail that takes hikers to the Soberanes Canyon Trail that loops back to the trail head.

Soberanes Canyon is named after the family that owned the area before the Douds. According to the park brochure, the Soberanes were ranchers who were famous for their hospitality and musical talents.

The branch proved to be extremely challenging. Instead of providing hiker-friendly switchbacks, the trail’s designer had chosen to use a more direct route. The first half of my descent felt like I was sliding down a bobsled chute. The second half felt like I was charging down a slalom course. My hiking poles saved me on several occasions as I stumbled and staggered the hill.

Passing through the tree canopy near the canyon floor was like entering a different park altogether. The previous hours had been spent in a dry and exposed environment. Suddenly, I was in a wet, well-shaded, and secluded trail.

Although it didn’t offer the magnificent views of the Rocky Ridge Trail, the path along the Soberanes Creek was my favorite part of the hike. The creek and the redwoods created a peaceful environment.

The trail back to the coast was an easy one. The ocean soon came into view again and I got a closer look at the cactuses dotting the hillside that I had seen from afar at the beginning of the hike.

If you are near Carmel and want a hearty workout with some beautiful views of the ocean and the coast, I would highly recommend Garrapata. If you prefer an easier hike, the park has that, too. Try the Soberanes Canyon Trail or the Soberanes Point Trail, a two-mile loop located on the ocean side of the highway.

You can see a few more photos from the hike here.

This morning's entry is brought to you by 49 degrees Fahrenheit, a temperature for all seasons (summer not included).

In my excitement to write about baseball and bears yesterday, I forgot to mention what I did this weekend. Because reading somebody's description of his or her weekend can sometimes be like removing a bandage, I will make this as quick and painless as possible.

On Sunday, I was in San Francisco, rooting on M as she ran the half marathon in the Nike Women's Marathon. The race started at Union Square and finished at Ocean Beach. 23,000 runners and walkers participated and raised more than 18 million dollars for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

While M ran, I made my way across the city by bus to see her cross the finish line. An hour of waiting and riding MUNI got me as far as 42nd and Geary. I walked the rest of the way, following the race course past the Cliff House and down the Great Highway to Ocean Beach. M finished faster than she expected and posted a time under 2 hours and 20 minutes.

On Saturday, we were in San Francisco to pick up M's registration packet and visit the race expo. With the weather so spectacular (as it would be on Sunday, too), we made a day of it in the city. We got back just in time to watch Boston beat Cleveland in Game 6.

On Friday, I went to the grand opening of REI in Marina. The store is part of a brand new shopping center on the edge of town, near Highway 1, called The Dunes. Despite the neat name, it looks like every other edge-of-town big box complex in California. REI was the most unique store in the bunch.

After enjoying a complimentary breakfast and exploring the crowded store, I headed south on Highway 1 to Garrapata State Park, where I hiked to Doud Peak. Photos and a trip report are forthcoming.

See, that was quick, wasn't it? Barely stings.

Date: October 22, 2007

The search continues today for a black bear that escaped from a local circus company that was performing near Ellery Lake, just east of Yosemite National Park. Clint, the black bear best known for his bicycling and juggling act in Circus Ursus, was last seen by rangers at the Tioga Pass Entrance, riding westbound on the Tioga Road at a high rate of speed on October 19, 2007.

Clint is described as being 5' 6" long and 32" tall with black fur and brown eyes. He was last seen wearing a black stetson, carrying a large sack, and riding a black Mongoose mountain bike. He is an experienced cyclist and juggler (especially with cleavers and assorted tools), but his ability to survive in the wild is unknown.

Search managers are asking that anyone who has been in the Tuolumne Meadows area that has seen a bear matching this description please contact them.

They are also advising any visitors with bicycles to hang them at least ten feet off the ground from a sturdy tree branch, using a metal chain (if possible). While this technique may not work if Clint is carrying the chain cutter he was seen juggling during his last performance, it is the only workable solution search managers have so far to prevent bicycle theft.

(Inspired by The Onion, the Yosemite National Park news releases, and a bicycle I saw heavily chained to a giant tree.)

Boston is going to the World Series. Again. Finally.

After Cleveland took a 3-1 lead in the best of seven American League Championship Series, the chances of Boston mounting a comeback seemed doubtful. The winning momentum belonged to Cleveland and if the two clubs had played three games in a row at the visiting team's ballpark, I'm certain Cleveland would be the city celebrating today. But thanks to the bizarre day off between Games 4 and 5, it's a city with plenty of time to watch Major League while wondering what went wrong instead.

The day off not only gave Cleveland's momentum a chance to cool off, but it gave my badly bruised optimism a chance to recuperate. By the time Josh Beckett threw his first pitch in Game 5, I knew he was going to keep the Red Sox alive another day (technically two, counting the travel day). Boston beat Cleveland 7-1 and brought the series back to Fenway.

On Saturday, with Curt "Student-of-the-Game" Schilling on the mound for the Red Sox, I had a relatively good feeling about things. It instantly became a very good feeling after J.D. Drew hit a first-inning grand slam. The silent bat in Boston's sixth spot had finally found its voice.

Fausto Carmona and two other Indian pitchers combined to give up six runs in the third inning and Boston won the game by a score of 12-2. I nearly had an anxiety attack when Terry Francona brought in Eric Gagne to pitch the ninth inning, but by some minor miracle, the former Dodger closer slammed the door on the Indians.

The moment I never want to forget from Game 6 came when Asdrubal Cabrera, Cleveland's second baseman, plunked Kevin Youkilis in the head during a botched rundown. Youkilis scorched a ball off the Green Monster in left field and overran first base. The relay went to Cabrera who chased Youkilis back to first. Ten feet from the bag, Cabrera tried to toss the ball over Youkilis to the first baseman, Ryan "Champagne-Tastes-Just-As-Good-Away" Garko, but bounced the ball off the top of Youk's helmet instead. In that split second, Youkilis dropped and slid back to first base safely. It's a play worthy of the blooper reel when the postseason DVD comes out.

Last night's Game 7 was much closer than the final score of 11-2 indicates. Boston led by as little as a run at one point and the game would have been tied if it hadn't been for a bad call by the third base coach to hold Kenny Lofton at third in the seventh inning.

In the bottom of that inning, Dustin Pedroia, Boston's leadoff man who hadn't batted in a run all series long, launched a towering home run over the Monster to put Boston ahead by three runs.

Hideki Okajima, the Boston reliever who throws strikes without looking at the plate, pitched a scoreless sixth and seventh innings, but was replaced by Jonathan Papelbon in the eighth after letting two batters reach base with nobody out. That turned out to be Cleveland's last best chance to win.

It was a short-lived chance. Papelbon squelched their offense in the top of the eighth and their defense collapsed in the bottom of the inning. Sloppy fielding and a three-run double by Pedroia gave Boston a nine-run lead. Papelbon pitched a scoreless ninth and Coco Crisp made a brilliant, body-jarring catch in center field for the final out

Boston now gets two days to rest before hosting Colorado. The Rockies will enter Fenway with eight days of rest and a ten-game winning streak on the line. While it would be sweet if Colorado won its first World Series in franchise history, it would be sweeter if Boston won its second title in four years.

Prediction: Boston wins in six games. Beckett and Schilling stop Colorado's streak. The Rockies strike back in Games 3 and 4, but the Red Sox return to finish them off in Games 5 and 6.

I just registered online for Healthy Trails, a new fitness program sponsored by the Santa Clara County Department of Parks and Recreation that challenges folks "to walk, roll, ride or run at least 5 of the 21 featured Santa Clara County Park trails". If participants complete the challenge within 12 months, they will receive a completion reward¹.

To encourage people of all fitness levels to participate, the 21 trails are broken into three categories: easy, moderate, and strenuous. There are 9 easy, 6 moderate, and 6 strenuous trails listed in the guidebook. Easy trails are 1 to 2.5 miles long and mostly flat. (Three trails listed as easy are significantly longer than 2.5 miles, but they are bicycle trails, so I guess they can slide.) Moderate trails are 2 to 5 miles long and have an elevation gain between 200 and 1000 feet. Strenuous trails are 5 miles long or more and have an elevation gain of 1000 feet or more.

Geographically speaking, the program has a good mix of parks. It covers all four corners of the county park system -- Ed R. Levin to the north, Joseph D. Grant to the east, Mt. Madonna to the south, and Upper Stevens Creek to the west. Numerically speaking, of the 28 parks, 15 are included in the challenge.

On its face, it seems like a good program. It will be interesting to see who participates. I wonder if it will it only be people who already get outside and exercise. I also wonder if the county will step up the program's marketing campaign, since I haven't seen a single poster, banner, or bus advertisement for it yet.

While I'm tempted to try to complete all 21 trails, I'm going to focus on finishing the six strenuous ones. I made a quick crib sheet of them for future reference.

By the way, if the classic song by Roy Rogers and Dale Evans had actually been "Healthy Trails", I'm guessing it might not have caught on so well.

¹ I don't know what that reward will be, but if it doesn't rhyme with otter coddle, I'll be happily surprised.

Boarding this morning's bus was like walking into a sauna on wheels. It was a welcome change after waiting at the bus stop, in the wind and the cold, for twenty minutes. The jump in temperature steamed up my glasses and I had to peek over the top of the frames to find an empty seat without crashing into anybody. I was reveling in the warmth until I remembered I would have to return to the cold in twenty minutes when I transfered to the light rail train. For a few brief seconds, a chilly dread filled me, but I quickly banished it and scolded myself for not enjoying the coziness while I had it. Happiness is a warm bus on a cold autumn morning.

It's a contention of Heat Moon's -- believing as he does any traveler who misses the journey misses about all he's going to get -- that a man becomes his attentions. His observations and curiosity, they make and remake him.

- William Least Heat-Moon, from Blue Highways, p. 17.

This quote was tickling my brain this morning as I walked to work. I've been taking the same route for a few months now and in that time, I've slowly stopped noticing things without knowing it. The same buildings and trees (and people, on occasion) pass before my eyes, but I don't necessarily see them; I skim them. Today, I decided that had to stop. Instead of focusing on where I had to be and what I had to do when I got there, I focused on what was going on around me. Here is a short list of what I observed:

• The clock on the west wall of the tower above Starbucks is stuck at 7:48.
• The circumference of the average pant leg worn by the average college kid is two inches less than the circumference of the average college kid's leg. I believe this is known as performance enhancing fashion. The blood, unable to reach anything below the midriff, has nowhere to go but up to the brain, thereby boosting mental acuity.
• Both skateboarders I saw this morning were women. I wonder when that won't seem unusual to me.
• With two seconds remaining on the signal counter, a young man, wearing black baggy pants, an oversized white jacket, and a white baseball cap, entered the crosswalk without hesitation. He didn't look once at the three lanes of traffic waiting for him to cross. Maybe if he had worn tighter pants he would have had the wits to wait until the traffic had cleared before crossing against the light like the other kids.
• The marquee at Camera 12 claims they're showing THE HEARTBREA KID. I wonder how many people have gone up to the box office to tell them it's misspelled. I wonder how many have gone up and asked, "What is a heartbrea?"
• The hedge that lines Washington Square Hall is still in bloom with orange and red flowers.
• The biggest yawn I've seen in recent memory belongs to a tall, well-built guy, in his early twenties, with short blond hair and green eyes, wearing khakis and a bright yellow fleece jacket. He opened his mouth so wide, an overweight squirrel could have scurried inside without scraping its backside against his teeth. Of course, it wouldn't have had a chance to scurry because the guy's intake of breath was so strong and sudden, the squirrel would have been sucked in instantly.

Admittedly, none of these are earth-shattering or life-altering observations, but they still have value. They are the observational equivalents of practicing scales on the piano.

If I were serious about it, I would focus on one sense per day at first. Monday would be sight, Tuesday would be sound, Wednesday would be taste, and so on. And after I had mastered each individually, I would begin to practice them in combination, until I became so skilled that not only could I describe the sight of a man yawning, but I could also describe the sucking sound he made and the way the squirrel tasted, without missing a beat.

If a man truly becomes his attentions, he might as well have a little fun in the process.

Experience has taught me that hiking in Henry Coe has less to do with distance and more to do with elevation. When I pick a destination, I don't ask myself, "How far is it?" I ask, "How high is it?" Or, in the case of China Hole, "How low is it?"

Tom at Two-Heel Drive recently visited that spot in the park in search of damage from the devastating Lick Fire and wrote a great trip report about it. Of course, even the best written account (with photos) is a poor substitute for getting out and seeing the sights for yourself. Besides, a good report is one that inspires the reader to get off his or her duff and explore. (That isn't the only quality of a good report, but it's an important one.)

According to the sign at Coe Headquarters, China Hole is 5.4 miles away. According to the map sold at headquarters, it's 4.8 miles away. Since I don't know which one to believe, I'm going to say China Hole is roughly 1,500 feet lower than headquarters.

With Friday's rain, I thought I would be hiking on wet and muddy trails, but as it turned out, there was practically no evidence of the previous day's precipitation. Corral Trail was completely dry and with the exception of the occasional puddle, so was Manzanita Point Road, which offered a wonderful view of the fields that were green only a few months back.

Since I can't seem to pass a body of water without photographing it, I made a quick stop at Bass Pond, the unintentional terminus of my St. Patrick's Day hike earlier this year.

I quickly reached the junction where the China Hole and Madrone Soda Springs Trails meet. Both trails lead to China Hole, so I flipped a mental coin (I called heads) and took the China Hole Trail, a shaded, single-track path lined with tall manzanitas. I invaded the personal space of one manzanita to take this shot...

As soon as I passed the Cougar Trail junction, the trees disappeared to reveal the canyons and ridges of the park.

Further down, as the trail became a series of long switchbacks, I finally got an unobstructed view of the fire damage near the top of Blue Ridge.

At China Hole, I scampered over a rock to photograph whatever water was left, but in doing so, I accidentally scared away three turtles that had been enjoying a pleasant Saturday afternoon sunning.

Since there wasn't a single soul around, I found a cozy spot to read, snack, and enjoy the solitude while the turtles silently cursed me. (I did move away to give them space, by the way, but I could still sense their resentment at my intrusion.)

Because I like to avoid out-and-back hikes as much as possible, I returned to Manzanita Point Road using the Mile and Madrone Soda Springs Trails. The Mile Trail, aptly named because it is exactly 1.2 miles long, is a heavily shaded path that crisscrosses the springs many times.

It also passes two notable landmarks: a collapsed and abandoned cabin...

... and a stone hut.

I didn't linger around or venture inside either structure. I'm sure both are perfectly harmless places, but when you're alone in the woods and have an imagination like mine, perfectly harmless places begin to attain a certain degree of eeriness -- not enough to send me running and screaming, mind you, but enough to keep me from poking around in dark corners.

The junction of Manzanita Point Road and Madrone Soda Springs Trail sits at an elevation of 2,321 feet. China Hole rests at an elevation of 1,150 feet. Because the Mile Trail stays along the canyon floor, the responsibility of making up the 1,171-foot difference rests upon the one-mile stretch of the Madrone Soda Springs Trail. I was relieved when the road finally came into sight.

I followed the road until I reached the next trail junction. Even though it added a few tenths of a mile to the hike, I took the Springs Trail to see how the season had changed the landscape. I was richly reward with views like this one...

All in all, it was a good hike. Some climbing was involved, but not enough to kill me, a trait I like in my hikes. It still amazes me that I've seen only a small percentage of the park. There is still so much to see and explore. A backpacking trip or an overnight stay in the coming weeks would be ideal. If that isn't possible, then starting from Hunting Hollow or Dowdy Ranch (when it reopens) might be a good alternative.

For more photos from the hike, please check out the Flickr set.

This weekend, I

> read outside on Saturday. M has been running on a local trail on the weekends to prepare for the Nike Half Marathon in San Francisco. Since I want to be supportive, I've accompanied her to the trail. Since I want to be supportive without slowing her down, I've used her outdoor running time as outdoor reading time. It seems to work well. I hope to pick up running again soon since my supply of t-shirts is running dangerously low.

> hiked in Henry Coe. Inspired by Tom Mangan's article and an undeniable desire to stretch my legs, I went for a stroll to China Hole in Henry Coe, the local state park. A number of trails are closed due to last month's Lick Fire, but there are still many worthwhile places to explore and China Hole is one of them. Once I finish uploading some photos, I'll write a quick trip report about it.

> watched Boston lose to Cleveland in Game 2 of the ALCS. Until the middle of the tenth inning, with the score tied at 6, the game was only long. After Tom Mastny got David Ortiz, Manny Ramirez, and Mike Lowell out in order to finish the inning and the Indians came back to wring seven runs out of the Red Sox bullpen in the top of the eleventh, the game became long and excruciating.

Dear Terry Francona,

Please do not let Eric Gagne pitch in relief or go anywhere near the mound for the rest of the season. I know he means well, but he also means misery and disaster.

Sincerely,
David (a.k.a. a Random California Red Sox Fan)

> visited IKEA. After attending a Sunday morning birthday party for twin two-year-olds and then recovering from that party with a cafe au lait at Cafe Borrone, M and I braved the crowds at the Swedish big box furniture store. We managed to come out alive, both physically and financially. We only bought a much-needed bookcase that we got easily into the car and a pair of kitchen scissors that we had to secure with a bungee cord since it was hanging halfway out of the trunk.

I now have three building projects to complete at home this week...

1. the bookcase
2. a bathroom cabinet
3. a LEGO Hogwarts Castle (it was on clearance)

While every fiber in my being says #3 should be done immediately, I'm going to be good and tackle #2 first. That will be the most difficult one. Next, I'll assemble #1 so we can get our growing pile of books off the floor and onto some actual shelves. Finally, as a reward for building #1 and #2, I'll treat myself to building #3.

> watched the Seahawks self-destruct against the Saints while hearing the Rockies clobber the Diamondbacks. I now believe the best way to watch football is with the volume muted. The experience is so much more enjoyable when you replace the commentary and sound effects with music or baseball on the radio. The Rockies are a win away from their first trip to the World Series. With any luck, they'll get that win tonight.

Like Rich, I'm looking forward to National Novel Writing Month (a.k.a. NaNoWriMo), which starts in another 19 days and 12 hours.

The challenge of writing a 50,000-word novel in 30 days looks enticing. It always does from this distance. As the days drop away, though, enticement will slowly turn to dread. It's inevitable. By NaNoWriMo Eve (or HalloWriMo as I like to call it), I'll want to do anything but write a novel. Of course, it will be too late by then.

Actually, it's already too late. By writing this entry, I have unwittingly committed myself to accepting the challenge. Perhaps if I sent a penguin five minutes back in time to distract myself from writing this entry, I could get out of it. All it would require is a quick trip to the zoo to find one ordinary penguin with extraordinary abilities.

While I work out a few details, I should mention this will be my fifth year participating in NaNoWriMo. Unlike the previous four years, I actually have a kernel of an idea for a story. Normally, that would be a good thing, but I have a feeling it will only make reaching the word count goal extremely difficult. The fact that the kernel contains a couch, a rancher, vampire cows, and an evil pizza maker is a huge reason why.

Despite that, I'm still looking forward to NaNoWriMo. At least that's the story I'm sticking to until I find that penguin.

Discworld is smarter (and funnier) than your average fantasy world. It doesn't merely defy fantasy and science fiction conventions; it pokes fun at them and pushes them around. It isn't simply fantasy with a twist. It's fantasy with a twist, a back one-and-a-half somersault, and a biscuit.

In his last few books, Terry Pratchett has shown that Discworld is smarter (and funnier) than your average real world, too. He has taken "real world" topics like revolutions (Night Watch), women in the military (Monstrous Regiment), the postal service (Going Postal), and racism (Thud!) and has explored them using one of the best tools ever invented: humor.

In his latest book, Making Money, he uses that humor to explore the seemingly dry subject of monetary systems. We follow Moist von Lipwig, the hero from Going Postal, as he takes charge of Ankh-Morpork's Royal Mint, tries to move the city away from the gold standard, and attempts to introduce its citizens to paper money.

In terms of other books I've read in 2007, I'm confident this will be one of my Top 5 Books of the Year. For those keeping track, I've only said that about two other books this year (The Virginian and The Last Season).

In terms of other Discworld books I've read, though, this wouldn't make it into my Top 5. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say it would be at the bottom of my Top 14. Havelock Vetinari (the Patrician) is in classic form in this story and the Glooper (a water-based economic model of the city) is hilarious, but they aren't enough to propel the book into my Top 10.

Just for laughs, here are my Top 5 favorite Discworld books...

1. Night Watch
2. Guards! Guards!
3. The Truth
4. The Wee Free Men
5. Hogfather

You can't tell by just looking at it, but that list took a lot longer to compile than I expected. The books I didn't include are giving me doleful looks and one is sobbing uncontrollably. I had better console it before it becomes waterlogged with tears.

Arizona and Colorado swept their respective opponents (Chicago and Philadelphia, respectively) on Saturday. Boston swept Anaheim on Sunday. Cleveland defeated New York in the Big Apple on Monday to win that series. Since then, baseball has been on hold¹ and will remain on hold until tomorrow evening, when the Rockies meet the Diamondbacks in Arizona for Game 1 of the National League Championship Series.

A two-and-a-half-day break in the middle of the postseason is a long time to go without baseball. Arizona and Colorado have rested three days. They could easily play tonight. I realize ticketholders are expecting the teams to play tomorrow, but I bet very few would be disappointed if they got to see the game a day early.

Letting the National League play tonight would then allow the American League Championship Series to begin tomorrow. It's only saves one day, I know, but it's one day less in an already lengthy season. It also means we would be one day closer to the final showdown between Colorado and Boston (it's the match I'm predicting and hoping for).

At the rate MLB and its television partners have this postseason paced, we won't have a World Series winner until Thanksgiving.

¹ If you listen carefully, you can hear the following message repeating softly in the background, "Major League Baseball thanks you for your patience. Your patronage is important to us. Please stay on the line. The next available baseball team will be with you in approximately... 35 hours."

My Canon PowerShot S40 has been with me for five faithful years. It has knicks and scratches and dents and chips. The only things holding it together are four screws and two pieces of duct tape. I don't know how many more photos it has in it, but I'm hoping it doesn't die before I invest in a new camera, which will be any day/week/month/year now.

With the fall television season well under way, I thought it would be fun to list the shows I'm watching (or not watching, in some cases). Instead of listing them in one big batch, I have broken the list down into easy to understand categories and added notes where appropriate...

Shows I Still Love...

• Bones - The cadavers still creep me out, but I stick around for the bickering between Brennan and Booth.
• Heroes - The chessboard is reset and new pieces (as well as old) are in play.
• How I Met Your Mother - Ted and Robin's on-again-off-again relationship is growing old, but the show still makes me laugh.
• Law and Order: SVU - My favorite of the L&O trio is still strong and I like the addition of Adam Beach as a new detective.
• The Office - Steve Carell, Rainn Wilson, and John Krasinski continue to make me laugh.

Shows I Once Loved That Now Make Me Cringe...

• Grey's Anatomy
• Desperate Housewives
• My Name is Earl

I don't know if the shows changed or my tastes changed, but in either case, whatever magic was there is gone.

New Shows I Wanted to Like That I Actually Like...

• Chuck - The show is worth watching if for no other reason than to see Adam Baldwin (Jane on Firefly) playing a tough guy in khakis and a green Buy More polo shirt.
• Life - Damien Lewis rocks as Charlie Crews

Shows I Have Been Actively Avoiding...

• Dirty Sexy Money
• Big Shots
• K-Ville
• Journeyman
• Ugly Betty

The last show on the list isn't going anywhere, but I'm hoping the other four disappear quickly so the fall replacements can fill their spots.

New Shows I Have Taken an Unexpected Shining To...

• Big Bang Theory - Before the show stales, I'm milking it for every laugh I can get. I also watch it for the theme song sung by Barenaked Ladies.
• Kid Nation - Watching 40 kids struggle and learn to establish a pioneer town in the desert is strangely appealing. Michael and Sophia are my favorites of the bunch.

Shows I Peeked at to Gain a Greater Appreciation for the Rarity of Good Shows...

• Gossip Girl
• Bionic Woman
• Cavemen

On Friday, I visited downtown San Jose to see the San Francisco Symphony perform in Plaza de Cesar Chavez at noon. It was a free concert and the park was packed with between 700 and 1,000 orchestra groupies (according to SiliconValley.com).

Benjamin Schwartz conducted the symphony through four pieces...

1. Fanfare for the Common Man by Aaron Copland
2. Short Ride in a Fast Machine by John Adams
3. Suite from Romeo and Juliet by Sergei Prokofiev
4. Cuban Overture by George Gershwin

They actually performed four pieces from Romeo and Juliet: the Introduction, Dance of the Knights (a.k.a. Montague and Capulets), Romeo and Juliet (Juliet's Bedroom), and the Finale (a.k.a. Death of Tybalt).

It was a fun and relaxing way to spend part of a Friday afternoon. I know it's San Francisco's symphony, but I hope they return soon. I also hope Symphony Silicon Valley (San Jose's orchestra) will jump on the wagon and put on their own outdoor concert.

Five years ago, I started this journal. At the time, I thought it would only last a month at most. But just like anything you expect to be temporary, it has become a rather permanent part of my life.

When it first began, this journal was more introspective. It was tool to pry loose whatever was stuck in my head. It was a clever way to trick myself into saying things I would normally never be able to say in Real Life. When you're a person as quiet as I am, trickery is often necessary.

In a way, I still use trickery to write what I'm thinking. I've just had five years to perfect the technique. Like right now, I'm doing the virtual equivalent of staring at a spot on the wall just above everybody's heads. It's silly, I know, but it works.

Over five years, the direction of this journal has turned more outward than inward; at least I think it has. To me, it has become more about what I see and do and less about what I feel. I'm going to venture a guess and say that's a good thing. Perhaps the best way to defeat one's shyness and self-doubt is to initially acknowledge them, give them their moment in the spotlight, and then yank them off the stage with a large hook before the produce starts flying.

As I said somewhere before, this journal "has been a diary, a scrapbook, a private pep talk and a chronicle of my amusements". I would add that has also become a chronicle of my adventures (mild though they be) and my virtual playground.

Through this journal, I have met so many cool people (both online and in real life). They have been and continue to be a source of inspiration for me and I'm grateful to them. Thank you to those of you have been with me through the years and those of you who have only been here a short time. Stick with me. I can't promise things will get better around here, but I can promise they won't get noticeably worse.

On that note, I leave you with Matchbox Twenty's "How Far We've Come", an upbeat apocalyptic song that really has nothing to do with this fifth blogiversary, but it has been playing in my head for weeks and I needed to let it out...

If you take the Highway 68 East exit from Highway 1 in Monterey, turn right on Olmsted Road, and follow it for a mile, you’ll come upon Jacks Peak County Park, home of Jacks Peak (who knew?), the highest point overlooking Monterey Bay at 1,068 feet above sea level.

While M was attending a conference in Asilomar, I kept myself busy by venturing over to the park early in the morning for a short hike. When I reached it, I discovered the park wouldn’t open until eleven, which threw me for a loop. It served as a good reminder to always double-check the hours and fees of parks before visiting them.

I returned to the park at eleven sharp, paid the three-dollar day use fee, and parked at the Jacks Peak Parking Area (name creativity isn't the park's strong suit).

From the lot, Jacks Peak is only a third of a mile away. It's an easy climb to the top and the view that greets you is commiserate with the effort.

There are just enough trees in the way to prevent you from enjoying a breathtaking view of Monterey Bay. Instead, you get a glimpse of the ocean blue in between treetops and branches.

Because such a short hike was hardly satisfying, I continued along the Skyline Trail that drops down and around Jacks Peak in a counterclockwise fashion. The view from this trail was much better than the one at the top of the peak.

From Skyline, I continued east along the Iris, Rhus, and Madrone Trails. All of these trails were wide and well-maintained. The dips and rises were gradual and the trails were well-shaded. They're perfect for trail running.

Trekking along, I came across a couple of unusual sights including this tree that seemed to be wearing a beard...

And these dramatic clouds...

The steepest part of the hike came just after the junction of the Madrone and Earl Moser Trails, but even then, the uphill suffering was minimal.

At the next junction, I made a quick detour to Bandtail Point and Hidden Meadow. Both were rather disappointing. Bandtail Point didn't offer much of a view...

And Hidden Meadow was so well-hidden that I honestly couldn't find it.

From there, I started heading back west along the Sage and Pine Trails. Both offered glimpses of the beauty of the region.

The park boasts over eight miles of trails. During the two hours or so I was there, I covered roughly five of them.

The park doesn't offer the best views of the bay, but it does offer a great escape from the crowds you'll find on the wharf and Cannery Row in Monterey.

The exchange I had yesterday at Starbucks...

Barista: How may I help you?
Me: A grande cafe au lait, please?
Barista: What?
Me: Uh, a cafe au lait?
Barista: You mean a cafe misto?
Me: (slaps forehead) Oh, right. A misto, please.
Barista: That will be two-fifteen.

Normally, I remember to call the cafe au lait a cafe misto (pronounced me-stow) when I visit a Starbucks, but yesterday it slipped my mind. Every other coffee shop calls it a cafe au lait. Only Starbucks insists on calling it something different. Why they do is a mystery to me, as is the fact that they don't even list the misto on their menu. Is it just not a popular enough drink to mention? Are they hoping people will buy the more expensive cousin of the au lait: the latte? Personally, I subscribe to the theory that somebody high up in the company had a childhood dog name Cafe au Lait who was hit by a car and the mere mention of the drink by that name brings back too many painful memories. I know it's an unlikely theory, but it's nice to imagine that some decisions weren't driven by the bottom line.

It was a brisk September morning and the stream of students flowing to classes on campus was barely a trickle, just the way he liked it. He didn't like crowds. They made him nervous - correction - more nervous.

He was a tall, lanky kid of Indian descent. The small gold-framed glasses he wore gave him a studious look. The jet black hair that sat on his head like a double scoop of melted licorice ice cream didn't. He liked wearing white polo shirts under baggy blue sweaters. He also liked wearing pants that weren't two inches too short for his legs, but he didn't own any.

This was the third week of his freshman year in college and he was still trying to get a handle on things. His biggest problem had been getting to class on time. It wasn't a large school, but his schedule had conspired against him by placing his only back-to-back classes at opposite corners of campus.

He walked the first week and arrived to the second class five minutes late, drawing undesired attention to himself. He ran the second week and arrived on time, sweaty and out of breath, which only drew more undesired attention.

A friend suggested investing in a bicycle. Figuring he had nothing to lose, he purchased a secondhand beater advertised on a bulletin board in the student union.

Now, as he rode along the paved walkway, he was beginning to feel buyer's remorse. Actually, to say he rode is being too generous. The word suggests a certain steadiness of motion, a degree of control. What he was actually doing on the bike suggested nothing of the sort. For every intended foot of forward motion, there was an unintended inch or two of sideways motion. He didn't ride; he wobbled.

If the school newspaper kept track of such things, it might have described him as one of the best wobblers in university history. For all of his unpredictable maneuvering, he managed to stay on the bike, aided by the fact that his lower body acted like a giant paper clip. He also managed to keep the bike mostly upright with the help of some Shakira-caliber hip action.

What was most amazing, though, was that he never crashed into anybody. His wobbling was slow enough that people had time to jump out of the way, once they realized he was heading their way (a fact that wasn't necessarily apparent until the last horrifying second). It probably helped that he closed his eyes before every potential impact.

The wobbling was going surprisingly well until he reached a patch of grass next to the bike cage on the other side of campus. That's when it all went horribly wrong. As long as he had momentum, everything worked fine, but as soon as he slowed, it all went to weed.

The long legs that had clung so tightly to the beater couldn't untangle themselves fast enough as the bike began to topple. The hips that didn't lie tried to compensate, but there was no fighting gravity. The bicycle tipped ever so slowly and he gradually crashed to ground, hands still on the handles.

He laid there for a few seconds, blinking at the blades of grass in front of him, hoping to avoid any undesired attention, hoping no one noticed. For the most part, nobody did. People walked by without slowing or looking.

Only one guy stopped to help him up. The guy had noticed the wobbler as soon as he had come into view a few hundred feet away. Three weeks later, he would write a truth-inspired account about it all online for his own amusement.

I've been fighting off a cold for the past week. I thought I had vanquished it over the weekend, but just like a bad horror movie villain that everybody thinks is dead, my cold came back to life for one last showdown yesterday. It's me or the cold and I swear I won't let a nasty post-nasal drip bring me down, even if it is wearing a ski mask and wielding a chainsaw.

Part of my relapse might be attributable to the hiking I did in Monterey this weekend. While I would like to believe rambling through a county park helps the body and mind rest and recuperate, it probably isn't as effective as some actual rest and recuperation, but I must admit it was nice to be outside while the denial lasted.

Besides hiking and sniffling this weekend, I was paying attention to the last games of the baseball season being played in the National League. As of Saturday, four teams were still fighting for two playoff spots.

There was the exciting tie in the East between Philadelphia and New York that needed to be settled. I was rooting for the Mets to clinch the division, but after a certain Mr. Glavine gave up seven runs in the first inning to the Florida Marlins, I stopped rooting for them out of fear that I would put the game completely out of reach. The Marlins trounced the Mets anyhow and the Phillies clinched the division.

(Not that I'm unhappy Philadelphia made it to the postseason. Although it's the team of Jimmy Rollins and Ryan Howard, it still feels like the team of Lenny Dykstra and John Kruk to me.)

There was also the close Wild Card race up for grabs. It came down to a tiebreaker game between San Diego and Colorado. Despite the fact that I was rooting for them, the Rockies managed to beat the Padres in 13 innings. It's a good feeling and a nice change of pace when I don't jinx the team I want to win.

Tomorrow, the Rockies and Phillies face each other in the first round of playoffs. I don't know who I'm jinxing rooting for yet. Maybe I'll alternate teams every inning to keep things interesting.

Now I think it's time to take a decongestant to ward off my chainsaw-wielding cold for another four hours.