Short Fuse

Everybody knows and everybody talks.

Films About Ghosts

Here are a couple more flicks from my hike through the Redwoods that I didn't get a chance to post before. It was one of the most strikingly beautiful and majestic places I'd ever visited. Unblemished by humanity and its poisonous touch, the forest had an air of ancient wisdom and a gloomy aesthetic that was so enchanting yet remarkably pure and simple.





"Oh, when I am safe in my sylvan home,
I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome;
And when I am stretched beneath the pines
Where the evening star so holy shines,
I laugh at the lore and the pride of man,
At the sophist schools, and the learned clan;
For what are they all in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet."

Fade to Black

I'm back home again already wishing I was gone. Still, I couldn't have asked for a better trip. I spent the past 10 days swimming in the Pacific, driving through mountains, hiking through redwoods, jumping off bridges, exploring waterfalls; all the things we dreamt about but never had the time to do. Now there's barely enough of it to get settled in before the road calls again. Normal life's a drag but the promise of new adventure is just enough to keep me going.

The Queen is Dead

The morning took us back to Santa Cruz and it's Pacific Avenue. We kicked about the thoroughfare for a bit and browsed the shops lining the way. I spent more time than I’d like to admit at the local record shop, but made it out of there without buying anything. Once we’d taken our fill, we headed to the boardwalk overlooking the beach. It was complete with a theme park, carnival games, mini-golf and, of course, swarms of tourists. I almost felt like I was back at the Coney Island Side Show, but naturally it lacked the hypodermic needles and rough and tumble locals that helped the peninsula gain the notoriety it has today.



Later on in the day we headed North, travelling still further up the coast. The drive was no less breathtaking than the day before as we journeyed through the heavy fog and thick scent of coastal sage. We eventually came upon a lighthouse and, at my insistence, elected to stop. It was situated atop a cliff overlooking the ocean, its bright signal breaking through the dense fog and shining out to sea. The lighthouse itself had fallen into disrepair and clearly existed only as a memento from the past. We took a minute to explore the tower and its surroundings, thankful for any excuse to stretch our legs.



There was something about the place that just killed me. It was all so romantic, as if it were taken straight out of a old novel. The fog, the sea, the rocky shore, the trenchant chill, the rickety old lighthouse, together created the perfect scene; something that was beyond the descriptive power of mere words, a feeling that went straight to the bones. Maybe it sounds a little corny or cliche, but I couldn't help but be awed by it all. I would have stayed all evening if there was time, but of course, there never is.

Keep On Runnin'

We woke up early and headed south to Monterey, California. Monterey is an old fishing town, best known for its role in various Steinbeck novels. The historic downtown area was cute enough and we took some time to explore the wharf and the many shops lining Cannery Row, even catching a glimpse of some sea otters napping near the shore. The fog, ocean breeze, and morning chill made for a refreshing change from the scorching heat of the past couple weeks. Plus, there was something about the gloom that I found appealing; a sort of overwhelming sadness that I could relate to in some weird way.


The afternoon brought us south along the 1 to an area known as Big Sur. Made famous by Kerouac’s beat generation, Big Sur claimed some of the most breathtaking sights I’ve ever seen. Giant cliffs, rocky ravines and water so impossibly blue, it felt almost painful to pull myself away. But still, onward we trudged, pausing to take advantage of the numerous stop-offs along the highway to enjoy the scenery as we made our way down the Pacific coast.



A single-lane road took us away from the highway, winding its way through the forest to Pfeiffer beach. The refreshing scent of evergreen greeted us immediately as we stepped out into the trees and followed the path down to the water’s edge. The beach itself was hidden away, flanked by rocky hills and towering cliffs on either side. It didn't take long to discover that we could climb some of the cliffs and we scrambled to take in the scenery from new vantage points. The sun poked its head, but the breeze was chilly enough to keep us from swimming; not to say that I would have braved the rocky shore and violent surf even if it had been any warmer out.




After a short stay at Pfeiffer, we zipped back up the coast, passing Monterey and heading for Santa Cruz. There was something eerie in the way the fog crept over the hills, sneaking down to settle in the valleys below. But still, I loved it all, wishing I could stay just a bit longer. But alas, we left it all behind, finally reaching Santa Cruz and the Saturn Cafe. The place had been recommended by a friend and certainly lived up to all the hype. I enjoyed a tofu burrito and washed it down with a peanut butter-chocolate milkshake. Steinbeck himself couldn't have written a better ending to the day's adventures.

18 Wheels

I won't be around, but I suggest you check out the free Murder City Devils show this Sunday. They're one of the cooler bands of the past 15 years and they won't be back anytime soon. Don't miss out!

Break Down the Walls

It's been three days and I'm already falling behind. Atlanta gave us a private swimming pool and a diving board to occupy ourselves with. We spent most of the day there, leaving with backs bright red from too many failed attempts at double front flips. From there it was 10 hours to DC in a cramped car to see Striking Distance and Damnation AD. After a couple hours of sleep, we hit the road again, this time aboard a bus to New York City.

I got home just in time to empty out my old room before our new roommate started bringing his stuff over. Never one for planning or time management, I headed to the Southernmost tip of Brooklyn with George in a failed search a new bike. Never enough time, but at least we got a cool flick out of the trip.

Life, Love, Regret

I've decided to try something new to keep this thing going. I've been on the road a lot lately and haven't really had time to write anything for the blog. I like to think my life is somewhat interesting, so I'm going to try to put up a couple pictures each day and write a little something about what I'm doing. Here goes nothing:




I've been on tour for almost two months now and yesterday we spent the day in Birmingham, Alabama. The temperature was upwards of 100 degrees Fahrenheit, making going outside downright miserable. Still, we braved the heat to check out a place called Bottle Tree, a restaurant about a 15 minutes walk from the venue. It was rumored to have some good vegan eats and Hank and I each ordered Buffalo Tofu Wraps. While they may not have been worth the $8.00, the meal was a nice break from the steady diet of pop tarts and clif bars I seem to have adopted lately.

On the walk back, Sean stumbled across a pigeon that seemed to be napping on the sidewalk. He picked up the bird, quickly realizing it wasn't sleeping at all. Nelson's mind was blown by the whole thing and we hurried back to the protection of the technological phenomenon we call a/c.