We watched the sun rise above the clouds to the east from the summit at Halakea National Park. At nearly 10000 feet, the view was spectacular. Even as we neared the summit on the drive we could see the dark sky become a phantom white as we approached the visitor center.
There were large crowds already gathered huddled together in the freezing winds. It must have been 20 degrees with the wind chill. With a few minutes to spare we watched the multicolor horizon layered in gray white orange and blue. What looked like the Hana shoreline was actually the edge of the cloud formations out at sea. Then what I thought was the reflection of the sun’s ascent turned larger and larger. It was the sun itself emerging over the mist distant row of clouds. It was blinding but so beautiful to see. Only in these early minutes would it look like this a gentle beam of orange. Later it would become too radiant too powerful to see with the naked eye.
We waited for some most visitors to leave and then we moved our car to a more permanent parking space. We sat/slept in the car a bit hearing the wind whipping outside.
Closer to us were barren rocks and black dessert with patches of bush and cactus-like plants.
The view from above the clouds
Molokini tour and dip
Saturday was our highly-anticipated outing to Molokini crater where we were to go snorkeling along the reefs out on the little island.
It was a short drive to Maalea Harbor where the boat set off towards the island crater. The boat ride was long and rocky. Clouds constantly threatened rain and we were getting anxious as Molokini slowly slowly took shape. We neared the rocky crater which looked nothing like the lush island in the ads. Predatory birds greeted us from their nests along the cliffs. Our boat eases into the natural harbor where other boats set anchor and their passengers were already paddling their way in the water.
After some brief instructions sprinkled with some advertisements for optional deals on underwater camera rentals to body suits, we entered the water cautiously. At first I thought it would be a piece of cake, that I would just need to tread my way and breathe with the snorkeling gear. Alas, the tides and he realization that there was at least 30 ft of sea below me brought some panic. I ended up holding on to the buoy line close to the ship until I started kicking off with a noodle to keep me afloat.
After adjusting to my body floating and the breathing apparatus I started to enjoy exploring the life under the sea. So many colorful fish and reefs where they and other living things lived. I didn’t actually dive in or go further out but it gave me confidence to try this again.
Good timing
We arrived in Maui yesterday afternoon to gorgeous clouds over pristine blue waters everywhere we could see. The first impression of this island was everything we imagined it would be. Warm breezes, humid air, easy-going people, and breath-taking mountains.
Our first stop was AK’s a place I heard about that was famous for its crab cakes and pupus among other things. Its website boasted a menu that had prices that defied the recession with good eats for prices everyday people could afford. When we got there, we were a little disappointed that they were only offering a buffet as an 8th Anniversary. Corn-dogs, mini-crab-cakes, ribs, fried chicken, and much more. I didn’t complain. The food was great. And we were hungry. They even left us with a piece of chocolate cake, which we took to go since we were filled to our lungs.
We drove further west toward Iao Valley State Park, which was where the Needle stood above the clouds. We walked along the falls that ran through the entrance to the park and enjoyed the crisp sweet water flowing over the rocks. Kids and families dove and swam in shallow pools along the falls.
Next, we found a fruit stand where we got a young coconut and some other fruits for the road. And then it was the search for groceries. Wal-mart, Ah-Fook, and Takamiya Market, which was an amazing little shop with everything you need for a meal: poke, fresh fish, meats, even exotic items like sweet meat, beef milk guts, and so on. Hawaiian people are as diverse as their foods I guess.
We finally got everything we needed and found the Castle Kamaole Sands in Kihei. Too tired to go out, we were satisfied with staying in and enjoying a quiet home-cooked meal of saimin, napa cabbage in a clear broth, and some poke and tako that we picked up at Takamiya’s. Five more days of this!
Summer of (Sports) Drama
What a summer it has been. Nearly every morning beginning in mid-June, I wake up early to help my wife get ready for work, and then settle into a cup of dark hot coffee eyes glued to the TV screen. Those early weeks of summer were devoted to the beautiful game, The World Cup soccer tournament held in South Africa. The ads, feature stories, and songs, even the commercials, set the perfect mood for watching these less-than-beautiful games. Lots of fouls, shoving, cursing, and there is always a let-down. Teams triumph, teams fall. Some just go through the motions. Finally, the tournament ended with Spain triumphant. They were the most beautiful team to watch, their passes and ball control above all the other teams they usually beat by only one or two goals. I feel for the Netherlands, whose colors I wore the day of the Final; they played every game like they wanted the victor’s cup more than anyone else. They were most aggressive and every player was involved at all times. I will probably miss seeing that team the most.
But that’s all but two days in the past, and now it’s all about the Tour de France. It’s been over a week into this cruel and punishing spectacle, but so far, chumps are becoming champs, champs chumps. I love riding, and sometimes, I love to hammer and get ahead of other riders; but after years of watching this sport, I am comfortable watching this from my armchair. Who would want to sacrifice their all for a team-leader who just needs to follow his teammates and put up a massive effort within the last kilometer? Who would be willing to get back on a bike and keep pace even after crashing three times on the same ride? Or bear the heat and annoying fans littering the hillsides and narrow streets? Or the doping control and news media seeking a morsel to the scandal hounds?
Although Lance Armstrong will not finish on the final podium this last year of his TdF career, I know he will put in a strong effort and do what his teammates have done for him all these years. As in the past, he has been an inspiration. The future of professional cycling will be all the better because of what he’s doing this last year.
Then there was the whole saturation of the Lebron story. In between World Cup games, or during TdF commercial breaks, I had to feed my thirst for sports watching ESPN’s updates, which mostly focused on the NBA free agent spree. This was essentially the story arc or Lebron James’ decision to step up for himself or forever hold his peace and stay with his hometown Cleveland Cavaliers. It was a perfect set-up. Lebron, the hometown boy, sticking to his loyalties for better or more of the worse. Lebron, joining a super-team of Duane Wade and Chris Bosh in Miami. Better than any movie or tv series. He decided to go with destiny, and now he’s hated by his once-devoted fans. He’s demonized by the rest of the country.
But the sports story of the summer for me happened at Wimbledon. There was the spectacular triumph of Serena Williams, the expected victory of Raphael Nada, etc. but the story was the epic battle between John Isner and Nicolas Mahut. After 183 games, 11 hours, 5 minutes over three days, Isner finally won the match. This was almost twice as long as any match in the history of the sport. The day after his victory, Isner had nothing left. He lost in record time as well. But the effort of both Isner and Mahut was the most memorable feat I’ve witnessed of all the sports I’ve consumed on tv this summer. It’s maddeningly addictive and can change one’s lifestyle despite one’s best efforts. I just hope I snap out of it before work starts up again.
Happy Mother’s Day
The world is so different from three years ago when my Mom was still around. Every Mother’s Day was special because my Mom allowed us to shower her with our attention. I think she knew we got more out of making her happy on Mother’s Day, so she let us take her out to dinner, lunch or breakfast, and have some cake, and of course, some kind of gift, usually something she didn’t really need.
But she made those days special. No matter how she was feeling inside, she smiled for the camera and gave us a part of her for us to remember always.
Rained out
On this Sunday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend, we were going to brave the weather and either ride Kings Mountain in San Mateo or hit the trails in the Marin Headlands.
Through the night, I slept lightly, waiting for the sound of rain. I was looking forward to riding, but if the rain came down, I wouldn’t mind sleeping in either. The night only teased us with sporadic trickling, and I woke up several times in the early morning. The streets were wet, but it was not raining.
I kept busy checking the weather reports online, made scones and a coffee cake, and enjoyed a cup of coffee. The city looks gray, but there is not the rain and wind that the weather reports predicted. Oh well, some days are good for being an iron man, others are good for butter, sugar and a jolt of caffeine.
Cheers!
Scones in the morning
Christmases Past
Christmas morning. There couldn’t be more perfect weather for a Christmas Day in San Francisco, or anywhere in the world. We never have snow, so native San Franciscans don’t long for that to happen. But the chill and crisp air this morning does make me reminisce about past Christmases.
Our dinner in Millbrae was another gathering of our expanding and shrinking family. While we have seen the passing of my Mom and Pop and Uncle Andrew, we have Kim and Jada, Emily and her family, and of course Wendy. My cousins are grown and have their own lives and opinions.
Yet, the holidays bring a feeling of deep nostalgia. I recall the days growing up on Campbell Avenue with the shenanigans my brothers and I used to get into, Christmas morning brightening up before the break of dawn, the massive clean-up afterwards, and being on good behavior for as long as we could maintain it. I remember my Mom’s smile seeing us so happy playing under the tree, and Pop taking too long to take the perfect photo.
I am grateful for many things right now, but I will never forget the way my parents never seemed to let us down during the 36 Christmases we’ve shared. Even after my Grandpa passed away, or while we were still grieving Pop leaving us during the Christmas of 2006, we always found a way to make the children happy. I may occasionally remember a present or two from years past, but the gift of happiness and family memories at the end of the year will last forever.
I wish you a very merry Christmas and best wishes for 2010.
Eric
Smells like Christmas
Wendy and I took a short trip down the Peninsula to the quiet town of Half Moon Bay. On a overcast slow Sunday afternoon, it was more quiet than usual. The turn off South 280 was surprisingly clear with nearly no cars in front or behind us on the single-lane route towards the coast.
We had a tasty greasy lunch at Flying Fish, a sitdown version of SF’s taco trucks. Fish tacos, fish and chips, and lots of grease. Good for the palate, not so much for the digestive system.
After a stroll along the quiet streets, we were determined to bring a little tree to decorate our home for Christmas. There were several farms along the way, and the one we chose was 4C’s. They had $40 noble firs or monterey pines, all giant for our standards. The old guy told us we could go cut ourselves one in the field behind the row of bushes. We walked through one side of the fields which were populated with everything from 3′ to 6′+. We chose several along the way, but we eventually settled for one that was about 4′ and more portly than tall and slender. It looked healthy and would cheer us up, but there was a bit of guilt that we were taking it off the farm where it could grow until next year.
But for $20, it made the house smell like Christmas. We got the lights and ornaments out of the mothballs. Soon, we’ll have stacks of presents to lay below the fresh scent of pine. Not sure if a plastic tree would be any better for the environment.
The weather is just fine
I finally got on the bike after I don’t really remember how long. I am going to be off for the last two weeks of the year, and with the holidays and all the feasting that’s already begun, I really need to get back to shape.
I started the morning ride up to Twin Peaks and could feel the legs burn on the gradual climb. That was expected after the weeks of stagnation. I kept thinking happy thoughts as I got to the top of Portola and the left turn towards the tower. Somewhere along the ride, I felt my legs get stronger, like I could keep climbing all day. I rode up to the vista point and saw the City shrouded with a thin layer of fog or something. I could barely recognize many of the buildings below.
I was reminded of how fun it is to ride the Tommy when we descended Clarendon. The descent is an amazing rush!
I continued down to Golden Gate Park, where I did eight laps around the Polo Fields, each time adding 1/8 of the track for anaerobic mashing. I still didn’t feel powerful, but it’s going to take time and many more cold morning workouts like today’s.
The Ache
It will be darker and wetter soon. The trails will be fresh with morning mud. The air will be crisp. I going to really miss the trails.
Now that I have been without my magic mojo ride, I have been shopping around in attempts to get over the fact that my bike was stolen and I’ll never get it back. I have gone to Sports Basement and Freewheel and that started a fiendish search on the web for what’s hot, affordable, and could somehow replace my beloved Ibis.
It turns out there is a wide range of choice out there for off-road pleasure. They can be divided into trail/climbing and downhill. That distinction is the starting point, and then there is an endless number of choices to make following that, which reminds me of the minute details and distinctions my wife agonizes over when applying make-up.
I thought I was set on finding another hard-tail ride so I get to enjoy it on the pavement leading to the trailhead or just taking it on short spins in the City. But as it turns out, the hard-tail market has split into two camps: the low-end barely trail-worthy entry-level bike and the high-end classic ride. There are also 29ers which have larger wheels and are meant for taller riders. The exciting part comes with the variety of full-suspension bikes out there. There is variety in frame designs and materials, shocks, and braking and shifting systems, etc.
I’m learning it’s a much more complicated world out there when it comes to mountain bikes. I will probably need to spend a lot more time researching before I start spending on a new bike. But it is so hard not to be riding now. I just hope I start taking to the road to keep in shape.