The Happy Coastie

"I don't want to live in the City anymore." That's what I always say when I visit my good friends Mike & Alicia in Prosser, WA. Prosser is about a 3 hour drive to good living. Just look at their house! The first time I saw it, it was evening and the stars were bright. All the lights in the house were on and it took my breath away. Oh - and it's pretty good in the day too. They have 2 chocolate labs (one more useful than the other) and a new black lab puppy named Diesel...in a year his name will most likely need to be changed to Tank.

2.5 days in Prosser always feel like a week vacation when I get back to the coast. There are no worries...except for the suicidal birds. But that's it! What else is there to worry about? Just sun burns...which I actually consider good luck. The first time I visited I got 2nd degree burns, went to a job interview the next day and got the job. Thanks Prosser. You see, only good things happen there.

Last weekend Mike & Alicia invited me over once again (seen here - Mike is actually really excited to hang out with me). The first time I met Mike I was informed for the first time that I'm part of a group called the "Effing Coasties" - oh, and I edited that term. Mike entertained me thru out the weekend with why effing coasties were effing coasties. They especially are stupid effing coasties when it comes to fishing. One of my favorite stories is when he convinced stupid effing coasties that he caught a lot of fish in a fishless lake. So of course the stupid coasties went to that vacant lake. So imagine what a great honor it was when they invited me, a effing coastie, to go fishing!

So I'm a stupid effing coastie and my fishing experience is catch and release in various matters. I remember fishing for trout as a youngster with my Dad along the river. Big D and I made Alan row the boat when we went fishing last summer. We caught a fish that crap bait on Alan's hand. When I was in college I threw back a fish, overhand, into a tree and couldn't shake it out. Poor fish baked there in the sun. And just a few weeks ago I caught a little bass in a city lake (seen here). But over in Prosser Mike & Alicia don't mess around. They have a boat! And not a row boat - it has a motor and plenty of spaces to sit without rocking it. This was all very new for me.

We went out to the Columbia river and I was instantly overwhelmed by the new experience. All these boats, in a line, there's an anchor involved, all these fishing poles, colorful bait - I mean, a *lot* of bait. And bait isn't even the right word! I forgot what they're called. And they'd wrap sardines around it and cast it in. There were four poles in the water held by these useful contraptions at the end of the boat. So I looked around and took it all in just warming up with all my dumb questions.

All of a sudden there was a bite! That's when I found out when fishing with Mike & Alicia each person gets a turn to reel in a fish and it was mine to start. The stupid effing coastie in me took over and I had no idea how to hold this pole. "Stick it on your hip and just do what Mike says." Alicia tells me. So I stick it on my side, not my hip. And cranked hard. It was a blur - I remember cussing, asking what to do, feeling my arm burn, then the boat moving (later I found out we were "chasing" the salmon) and when I looked up I noticed the folks on the other boats watching me. Can they tell I'm a stupid effing coastie I wondered?

Anyway - I discovered one of my new favorite things in the world. It's when you're reeling in the fish and you can kind of see it hop off the water for the first time. Those salmon are big!! It was finally close to the boat and I'm mindlessly reeling still when I couldn't reel anymore (later Mike calmly explains to me that could break the pole). The salmon was twisting and turning and just when the net was close it got away. I was instantly sad and my pride hurt but everyone was so nice and reassuring that some fish get away, and some don't.

Salmon are freaking huge over there on the East Side. Unless Salmon are usually this big? I'm not quite sure. I'm a stupid coastie like I said.

Alicia had the next turn and she was flawless. She was in the zone and calmly struggled successfully in reeling in a 19 pound salmon. It was beautiful. I never had so much pride to be her friend like I did at that moment. I remember a year earlier when I was driving on the busy I-405 with all the other Coastie's and talking on the phone with Alicia. She talked about this HUGE fish - a bottom feeder I remembered - that she caught over the weekend. All I remember is it took a long time and thinking "holy crap, that's burly!" After she caught her salmon we talked about that big fish. She told me that it was an 8-foot sturgeon that took 3 people 1.5 hours to reel in. ....holy....crap. So THIS is fishing! Now I get it.

It was such a wonderful day of drinking beer, hearing stories and finally getting my own fish. It was my first salmon and Mike convinced me it would be OK to hold it with my bare fingers. And I'm so glad that he did. Sure, I had the smallest fish in the cooler but I was the happiest coastie on the Columbia that day. I'm so thankful for the lessons that were taught to me. One that I'm not convinced of though: "Hey Red! What's your name?" That's when the fella on the boat next to me told me not to be so concerned with my beer when a fish bites the line. I don't quite agree. This coastie is going to make sure the beer is in a safe place before she reels anything in. I'm still perplexed that isn't understood on the East side.

So this whole week I've been daydreaming about fishing again, Alicia's amazing cooking, getting to know Diesel better, talking with Alicia (one of the most laid-back, coolest chicks I know. I wish they had "Alicias" on the Coast), Mike showing off his boat skills and the slow & simple life in Prosser. And really...truly...I don't want to live in the city anymore.

Let the hiking begin!

Yay! It's hiking season. I understand that the snow is bound and determined to stick around but I don't care - I'm stoked. Even if I have to stay on lower elevation trails for a while I am still stoked. Last summer I made a vow to hike every stinking weekend and I did with the exception of the weekends that I ran in a race. Whoo-hoo! It was good... Not sure if I can afford the gas to do the same this summer but we'll see.

Big D will be hiking Kilimanjaro pretty darn soon so I've joined her on some training hikes. We did the typical Mt. Si which wasn't as hard as we remembered. So for a change of pace today we did Mailbox Peak. I kind of consider that hike to be the "Underground Trail" because it's not that well known but it's a good butt kicker. It gains 4000 feet elevation in 2.5 miles. It's not maintained and has tons of roots that can trip you up on the way up and down. Ok -it's like this: Ever drive along steep hillsides of lush forests and wonder "what's it look like at the top?" That's Mailbox Peak. It's like someone was curious and just forged straight up whether it made sense or not. It's June 1st and we eventually found ourselves in a snowfield with our shorts on. I took a quick picture to send to Alan the Ogre before my fingers froze up.

Anyway - to commence hiking season I have taken the liberty to post some hiking rules:

1. Don't hike in jeans. This stresses me out. Do you sleep in jeans? Do you ski in jeans? Then why are you hiking in them? It just looks wicked uncomfortable and hiking in cotton is never a good idea. Especially tight jeans. Big D and I saw some *tight* jeans on the Mt. Si trail and instantly felt second-hand discomfort.

2. Don't hold hands on the trail. Seriously. If you'd like to hold hands than take a stroll around Greenlake. I consider myself a patient person (now) but being stuck behind two hand-holders makes me want to growl. Is it that necessary? Will you get lost? Will your love suffer? No...just think of the distance as a reason to be joyfully reunited at the top. I promise I'll give you your privacy.

3. Cologne/Perfume. It just doesn't make sense to me. Especially later in the season. I remember when I was younger my Mother wore a watermelon-scented Jazzercise t-shirt and the bees were SWARMING. She screamed "Don!" (my dad) the whole time. We would look at the other hikers "Who's Don??" Anyway - it was a good lesson to watch. Plus, it's hard to be huffy and puffy and take in a strong whiff of that smell. Usually I appreciate it but not in the woods. Just doesn't fit the surroundings.

4. Ipods/MP3 Players. What is the point of hiking if you extinguish one of your senses? Being in the woods can be such a therapeutic venture but when you bring that element I fear it cheapens the experience. Sure you can still smell and see but you're robbing yourself of the full experience. I equate it to watching a movie without a soundtrack. You forget what a powerful element that can play in the whole production.... However I *do* find exception in training hikes like Mt. Si. There I realize people use that hike to get in the zone of their fitness with a long-term goal in mind. Ipods can be great for that - heck, if I had to run without music I'd suck worse than I already do. And that's pretty bad.

Happy Hiking to you all! Remember to always tell a buddy where you're going and bring a headlamp. Always. I've learned this the hard way...

I heart Shia

I'm almost 29 and I don't care. I have a crush on a young man named Shia. My buddy Derek can attest that I first noticed this hunk o' love when he was still illegal. He starred as Stanley Yelnats in the movie Holes - which I've seen *way* into the double digits. I don't know craph about the craft of acting but his impressed me. Loveable Jewish Dork? Maybe that's what it is. I've always liked beefy, bald, arrogant fellows but Shia has turned me soft.

At work I have his booking photo on my desktop - frequently I talk to him when things get tough on the job...he can always make me laugh.

Perhaps he reminds me of the group of cool dorky guys I hung out with in high school. I never had crushes on any of them but they will always have a special place in my heart. Perhaps Shia instigates the nostalgia of them all? Perhaps it took me ten years to start loving dorks and leave the Stone Cold Austin type behind. Is this growing up?

In any case - I heart Shia. Even though I had second-hand embarrassment when you swung with the monkeys - I'll still stand by you....you'll always be my luv chunk. xoxoxoxo