August 27th
I took this picture of Justin years ago. Shitty quality, but I still love it so. Mainly because it sums up my feelings about skateboarding in the fall. How great it is. How empty the parks are. How the air's all crisp and alive. How you can skate for a few hours and get really tired, and then as the last light and warmth disappear from the day, you can go eat some grand, savory meal at a place like Dots (the Gentle Ben with fries) or Free House (the mac and cheese, obvi) and not even feel bad because, like, hey, you're stock-piling calories for winter and stuff.
Anyway, yeah, I'm ready for that.
Up In Smoke On A Saturday
Oh hi. It's Monday. You already knew that. I'm sore from this weekend, because there were friends in town from New York and we all skated a bunch and fell down. I like how visitors can revive the squad. A new excuse to come out and hang out—to not be lazy when it's late August and 90 plus and you'd otherwise be inclined to stay home laying around pant-less in front of the fan.
Anyway, every second of Saturday was spent slashing and swimming. The extended posse came through. Everyone was smiling and no one complained. Clips were stacked. Cliffs were jumped. Copious wildfire smoke was inhaled. Beers were cracked and quickly made to disappear. It was fun—more fun than I've had in a while.
As mentioned elsewhere, your friends are your family, and I feel really lucky that I know all of these cool, creative humans. I feel lucky that, on a daily basis, I get do something I like very much with a bunch of people that I like very much. As a sort-of-adult with a job and other responsibilities, I couldn't ask for anything more.
JT at Glen. Pic by George Cutright.
Blue Moon
As you may know, there was a so-called "blue moon" this weekend. Despite its astrological implications—its deep cosmic portend of high and wild emotion—this rare second full moon of July looked much like other full moons.
I think it was the heat, though, the moon combined with the heat on Friday night, that really stirred together like a stiff cocktail and made everyone summer drunk. No one wanted to stay inside. No one wanted to be alone. Everyone was out doing something, wearing shorts and shirtsleeves—sometimes less, everyone was sweating, talking, laughing, and acting disorderly.
I stayed up late. I drank cold drinks with limes perched on the rim. I rode my bike all the way to Lombard Street and back, winding down the quiet boulevards under the grand ole pine trees as their limbs reached out like elephant trunks and pumped oxygen up into the stars.
Favorites 7.27.15
Summer rain when you're tired: Rain—it's only water. But when you wake up sore and tired, the sound of it falling can be the best noise on earth. Stay in bed ... just stay.
Coconut oil in my coffee: I used to take milk in my coffee. Now I like it like I like my men—straight up and strong. However. A little coconut oil makes black coffee really smooth, gives it substance, takes the edge off. As a rule, I'm okay with edges, though.
Grilled "cheese" at the Bye And Bye: Grilled cheese—I love it, you love it, we all love it. This one's vegan, though—made with a swashbuckling amount of Daiya cheddar. You can't not eat the entire thing.
Ex Machina: Creepy. Haunting. Gripping. Beautiful. A Blade Runner for the new era. If you haven't seen it, do.
Sk-amping In Central Oregon
I have been known to mismanage my weekends, but this past weekend wasn't one of those weekends. Instead of lurking in town and going to bars, we all packed up and drove to Bend on Friday after work—pulling into town right at dusk, right when the air turned all quiet and cool.
Our intention was to camp, which we promptly did in our pal Brandon's backyard. It was already dark when we pulled in. It stayed dark while we set up our tents and sat there drinking homemade wine, always throwing more wood on the fire. In the full light of morning, however, each of us crawled out of our tents to discover the magical view above. A big veggie garden, a chicken coop, and a private backyard skatepark. Brandon's really got a good thing going.
Aaanyway, after that, Bend's new skatepark to sweat and fall down. And after that, the prettiest swim spot on the pristine Deschutes River—which, as often happens way out in the mountains, we had all to ourselves in order to properly celebrate Toby's birthday.
That night, we camped in Sisters under centuries-old pine trees. The milky way, I need to report, was impossibly bright. Everyone told stories, and the dogs laid there at our feet—happy to be outside like all the other forest animals, happy to be wild, to be dirty, to be free.
That is, ultimately, the beauty of camping.
