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Category Archives: travel

from here to there and back again

Look at this picture. To take it, we had to get up at 4am and drive the 35 miles to the trail head of the Zion Canyon overlook so that we could get a parking space and hike up the 1.5 miles before everyone else took up all the choice spots along the edge. There were no stars. It was cold and overcast. We were the first in the parking lot, the first on the trail, and the first to the canyon overview. The clouds filled the sky. No one else bothered, realizing that there would be no blue sky this morning.

Zion Canyon Overview

Zion Canyon Overview

And then, on the horizon, a break in the clouds allowed this beautiful sunrise with a stormy back drop. The light show lasted 10 minutes. Then it was gone, having shown for only the two of us. Life is being there hoping…

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We come up here to Sea Ranch once a year.

bright sunlit waves break over rock on a calm day

waves on a gentle day

Every year since 1988, except one year, when we went to Hawaii and could not afford both trips.  The kids now come home so that we can do our yearly sojourn up here.  We have friends here that live in Gualala, just 5 miles up the coast.  For their vacation, they go down to Martinez in the S.F. Bay Area.  Yes, that Martinez, with the refinery in its back year.

Man, Meadow, Sea as backdrop

Witnessing

Yet they are excited as they prepare to go down there… to get away from the quiet.

Thank goodness for photography.  I take pictures where ever I am.  I find beauty there.  I find beauty here.  So the pictures are a reminder that you find beauty wherever you are.  “.. the eye of the beholder.”  I know that.  You know that.

But every once in a while, we need a reminder:

Beauty is everywhere.. just remember to look…

Beautiful sunset with streaks of clouds

Light Display at Day’s End

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Yesterday I drove 6 hours, to Sacramento and back for a decade birthday of my brother-in-law and the way there was during rush hour out of the bay area.  For what I am about to say, I do have a certain bias; few people would say that I drive slowly  rather to the contrary.

 

One of those things that I can feel my blood pressure rise around are individuals who are not keeping up with the traffic flow.  I have found that these people frequently drive a Prius.  In conversations with Prius drivers they talk about working to get even higher mileage by limiting acceleration and therefore not necessarily keeping up with the car in front of them.

 

This is for all those Prius drivers;  Have you thought about how self centered you are, how much more total gas you are causing everyone else to use?

 

Let’s take a commute along an expressway as the first example.  Assume that the extra gap between the Prius and the car in front would at the normal density of cars on the road hold 3 additional cars.  When a Prius goes through an intersection on a green light with traffic behind him, there will be 3 cars (or however many would fit in the excess gap) that don’t make it through the signal before it turns red.   These 3 cars will then idle at the signal burning gas until it turns green, let’s say 30 seconds for the signal to keep the math easy or a total of 90 seconds extra idle time.  This becomes true for most of the signals on a commute.  If there are 10 signals the virtuous Prius driver has added 900 seconds of extra commute time to the collective everyone else who is driving.  900 Seconds is 15 minutes. How much gas is this?  Except that it is worse than this.  Those 3 cars that didn’t make it through the signal because some Prius had left a big  gap, then mean that 3 less cars make it through the prior  signal.  At the 10th signal, there are 10 signals each with 3 cars that have had to wait.   The total additional idling at signals for a 10 signal model with 30 seconds per signal cycle yields an added delay to the collective commute of 4950 seconds or 82 minutes.  Mileage may vary depending on signals (count and duration)  and Prius gaps.

 

Let’s take a freeway during rush hour.   Let’s assume that the traffic packed, but moving at 30 miles per hour.  Let’s assume that each normal car uses 53 feet of space for itself and the gap in front of it.  This yields 100 cars per mile.  The reality is that there is usually less space and higher density. If traffic is heavy like this for 5 miles.  Our 3 car Prius gap is roughly 159 feet, or about 3.5 seconds of time.  The Prius is delaying 5 miles, or 500 cars by that ~3.5 seconds which is roughly adding 30 minutes of driving time to the overall commute with each of the 500 cars behind the Prius suffering.

 

Do the desires of a few outweigh the needs of the many?  Think about this the next time you see a car not keeping up with the car in front, and notice what type of car it may be.  Are you one of those drivers?

 

Patrick Lynch

Patrick Lynch Photography

Sierra Fall Colors

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I was fortunate enough to be sent to Dublin Ireland for work.  I added a Saturday at the end of the work to do some sightseeing.  Ireland is a tourist destination, and they have very good sightseeing trips.  I booked a tour bus trip up to the north end of the island to see Belfast and the Giants Causeway, two popular tourist destinations.

The day could not have been more perfect, blue sunny skies that are rare with big billowy clouds.

Stairway to heaven

Ireland North Ireland

The scenic sights were great.

What was just as memorable though was the bus driver.  He had spent 7 years in British jails without a trial as a suspected IRA sympathizer.
Continue reading “Irish Tour Eye Opening” »

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Grab a cup of coffee at “Top Dog” on Main Street, Morro Bay.  We had avoided this place for two years because we thought it was like Top Dog in Berkeley on Dwight, and you know we already have a favorite hotdog stop at this Bay.  Well, we looked in, and saw: SLO (11 of 11)  It is a coffee shop with what looks to be good food.  But we did coffee.  I had Mexican Mocha.  It was good.

A good start to follow the Nine Sisters away from Morro Bay.  They lead to San Luis Obispo, home of the Mustangs and Cal Poly. No pictures of it, but we did drive around the campus, amazed by the bicycles.  We both know though that as far as bike on campus is concerned, UC Davis wins hands down.  I think they have 23,000 bikes on campus for the 21,000 students.  That’s how it looks anyway.

The first attraction though was the Mission at San Luis Obispo, founded September 1, 1772.

SLO (3 of 11)

The California Missions were at first political, a way for Spain to protect its interests in the west as both the Russians and English grew more adventuresome with respect to this area.  However, as time went on, the Priests became more interested in spreading their religion and saving the locals, so the mission today reflect the lasting intent of those early religious.

We spent a lot of time venturing into the mission and it museum of early Californian Artifacts.  Just down the street, we found the Free Library. SLO (2 of 11) Not sure why it was called that, but it is beautiful with lots of people coming and going.  There is also an art gallery across the street that showcased multi media art from school aged kids.

The Nine Sisters did a very good job leading us to some very wonderful places.  Twelve miles from Morro Bay and a completely different life.

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Our annual sojourn to Morro Bay is in progress.  We got down here at about 1:30 just before the streets were blocked off for the Saturday Farmer’s Market.  First stop is “Hot Dogs on the Harbor” on Main Street.  Now they have great hotdogs and chili, but the real reason is that in June of 2011, on the way back from a conference in Newport Beach, we stopped there on Gregorio‘s first day of business.SLO (1 of 11)  He had his cousin I think, helping him this first day/weekend/week.  A minimum overhead operation.  He took orders for about 3 groups, then went away and food appeared.  When this group was fed, he would move to the window for the next set of customers.  Everybody seemed to know the drill.  Everyone waited patiently.  Everyone was smiling as they ate.

We also went to “our” book store, Coalesce Book Store [ www.coalescebookstore.com ]MorroBay (1 of 16) where I took this picture last year.  It is a “real” book store and almost worth the drive from the SF Bay Area by itself.  I usually find one book there that I live in for a while.  I think I found one this time:  Gift of the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.  The first of the book is:

The beach is not a place to work, to read, write or think.  I should have remembered that from other years.  Too warm, too damp, too soft for any real mental discipline or sharp flights of spirit.  One never learns.  Hopefully, one carries down the faded straw bag, lumpy with books, clean paper, long over-due unanswered letters, freshly sharpened pencils, lists and good intentions.  The books remain unread, the pencils break their points and the pads rest smooth and unblemished as the cloudless sky.  No reading, no writing, no thoughts even – at least, not at first.

Yes, that is the beach.  That is the sea.  And I hope Anne Morrow, that it is okay that I quoted so much..  from a flier such as yourself.. as Charles.

We then walked to theSLO (7 of 11) Rock, here seen at sunset from the docs. Seemed a bit closer than last year.  I think we were a bit more rested this time around.  You can walk around to the other side of the rock, back against the rock, facing an unforgiving sea.  Today the sea was nice, forgiving.

There is a line of these rocks called the nine sisters, with this one being the farthest west.  They are in almost a straight line stretching from Morro Bay to San Luis Obispo.  They are extinct volcanos about 21 million years in age!   http://www.morrobay.com/rock.htm

The city looks

SLO (4 of 11)

the same as last year, and the residence pretty much look the same too.   These two stopping for dinner probably don’t have reservations.  No reservations at all..  The two women in the car seemed perfectly content too.  Maybe dinner was indeed on the way.

 

A nice ending to a very nice sunny first day,

SLO (8 of 11)

just like last year.

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If you look carefully right now, SFC (25 of 41)you’ll see rivers of colors flowing down the valleys of the eastern Sierras.  These rivers of color are the high altitude Aspen that change from forests of light green, through brilliant yellows, oranges and reds.

This picture was taken off of highway 395, just north of Mono Lake.  The dirt road you see winds up this incredible valley, following the Aspen trail.

This transition of fall happens every year around the second week of October.  It is there for those lucky enough to be passing by.   But the opportunity is brief.  The change happens quickly, with any one area making the transition within a week’s time.  We are very fortunate because the flow of change like the flow of the trees themselves, moves from higher altitudes to lower as the temperature drops.

Sometimes you are lucky enough and these wonderful SFC (14 of 41)ephemeral views lie just off of the road where you can stop and just stare.  This picture was taken on 395, just across from Mono Lake, late in the afternoon.  We are not that high up, and didn’t have to work hard for the view.  Just stepped on the brakes and opened the door.  There were a lot of cars slowing or stopping for this view.

I am sure that lots of those that are lucky enough to witness this change, decide to make it more than luck, and plan for this annual event.  They bring layers of warm clothes and their cameras, notebooks, paints, eyes, ears and hearts, SFC (23 of 41)and take those country roads, up into the mountains to be a part of this wonder.

 

 

I am most lucky to have had a friend invite me along on his Photography workshop, where he and 3 of his colleagues showed me where to look, when to look, and how to look.  They do this every year, just around now.  These pictures are fresh, less than a week old.  But these same trees, less than a week later, are probably leaf-less, having shed their bright coats.

To see more colors, and maybe join them next season, check out their site: Sierra Fall Colors [ sierrafallcolors.com ].

I want to thank Patrick, Rogan, Mary and Tim for the wonderful experience and Henry, a fellow participant with whom I got to share the wonderful journey.

Sometimes you are lucky enough to be at the right place, at the right time.. on some country road…

 

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In a small village in Chile, where a majority of the inhabitants speak Mapudungun, the native language of the Mapuche people, my mind effortlessly, eagerly, mutes the buzz of spoken conversation and voices soon give way to other sounds–shrill chirps and the soft flutter of wings, the squeal of angry tires on asphalt and the steady mechanic pulse of engines and machines. I notice the people walking next to me, their shoulders stooped from the weight of their weekly groceries, their bodies swathed in brightly colored fabrics that scratch my bare arms as they shuffle past. I am overwhelmed by my senses, which became heightened the second I stopped processing what was being spoken, and everything seems to move in slow motion. I can smell the small wilted jasmine on the pavement and the putrid stench of sewage and drek from the landfill on the outskirts of town; I can feel the muggy air, feel the beads of water stick to my arms, my t-shirt clinging to my skin.

Although I am fluent in Spanish, I am a complete stranger to Mapudungun. On my trips through Chile I often passed through small villages that were largely indigenous, which meant I could not rely on spoken language to interact with people. So I paid close attention to nonverbal cues like voice modulation, eye contact, and body language to make sense of what went on because those were the only things I understood.

I’ve found this skill to be incredibly important. Not only does it make me quite popular at intimate parties–I’m talking about my rad charades skills here–but it’s taught me a lot about empathy, perception, and social bonding. After returning from my travels in South America I thought it’d be a long time before I’d get to appreciate that connection, that mutual understanding between two people who communicate effectively without having to say a word, again.

Then a couple weeks ago my friend invited me over to his place for a family barbecue. Over the years I had heard bits and pieces about them, but apart from meeting his siblings and a cousin or two they had largely remained a mystery. Needless to say I jumped at the opportunity to make new friends and bond over food and drinks (my favorite type of bonding!).

He warned me that I’d probably feel a little awkward being there since they mostly spoke to each other in Vietnamese (this was especially true among his parents, uncles and aunts, less so among his cousins). Fueled by genuine curiosity about his family–and perhaps more importantly the idea that it’d kinda sorta be like traveling again (it had been 10 months since I had really traveled…I was desperate and my wanderlust demanded some sort of gratification)–the prospect of spending an evening being the odd one out didn’t bother me.

And you know what? I had a great time. We ate some yummy food (my friend’s sister had made tasty spring rolls and his cousins had grilled delicious meats), drank stuff and enjoyed each other’s company.

As it got cooler we arranged ourselves around the bonfire. It was here, during frequent lulls in the conversation and occasional calls for “another round of drinks!”, that I felt for the first time in months that feeling of being lost yet grounded at the same time. My brain, numb to the unfamiliar sounds of Vietnamese, began picking up on other clues to try to infer what was being said.

Many of my observations focused on social codes and cues. I paid particular attention to how my friend’s family signaled their acceptance of me as a viable member of the group. I noticed that as the night wore on they became more comfortable with my being there because they would “code-switch”, shift between Vietnamese and English, more often in an attempt to include me in the conversation. This could have been out of politeness, but I’ve gathered from similar experiences that if the group wants you there, they’ll make an active effort to involve you in whatever it is they’re doing.

Alcohol, a common facilitator of social bonding, also played a small role in their recognition of me as a friend (as opposed to a stranger). For example, I poured the first drink for myself but after that a cousin would fill my glass and invite me to drink with him. I realize that the culture of drinking differs across societies and generations, and what the family members demonstrated may again be nothing more than politeness, but I saw it as their way of signaling that I was being included.

Was I out of my comfort zone? Hell yeah. But if traveling has taught me anything it’s this: I don’t want to live a life where I’m not pushing boundaries or breaking down the walls that keep people away from getting to know me; I want to be okay with feeling a little uncomfortable or awkward in new situations; life is supposed to be messy and confusing and nobody really has shit figured out in their 20’s no matter what your high school counselors tell you and even if they do that’s okay you rock anyway. So yay! to having new experiences without having to travel very far and yay! to learning more about how (differently) you see the world when you shut up for a couple of hours. I guess my high school counselors were right about one thing: actions can speak louder than words.

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Large sign of a BSA patch

BSA Sign

 

As I did my morning sit, I reflected back on recent changes

  • The 5 hour airplane flight – Not as bad as I remembered it being
  • The leaving of a high energy minister at church – I am sad
  • The business dinner that I didn’t have much energy for
  • The stiff body from a new bed in the hotel
  • And the list goes on and on….

The take away is that I am not wanting change in my life.  This is a big shock to me; I have always wanted change, embraced , been excited. I was the advocate for change.  And now, I am aware that I don’t want change in my life, I am comfortable, I have a wonderful wife that I spent years working on myself and looking for, I have a job that I am very comfortable working in.  I have a nice set of friends that appreciate and accept me for who I am, warts, stars and all.  It is the feeling sense of not wanting change that is somewhat frightening as the energy and enthusiasm of adventure has permeated my life.

There are some things that have not changed, and I am grateful for some of these

  • When the restaurant person cleared away the table at breakfast and said the mandatory ‘have a nice day’,  and I responded by looking them in the eye and saying “Thank You,  you have a good day”
  • I still smile as I pass them in the hall
  • I still say please and thank you

I can still choose to embrace change, though it takes a greater degree of consciousness, and I can be grateful that I am still a Boy Scout at heart; Trustworthy, Loyal, Friendly, Courteous, Kind,…

This is something that I don’t have to fret over, and more will be revealed  (change) over time.

🙂

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“The angels have the phone box.”

Sorry. Just had to start with reference to my favorite Dr Who episode. Blink. Amazing how many people know that reference. But it is just the situation I wanted to relive in this note…

In the spring of 2012, we visited Scotland. Edinburgh to be exact since we spent the entirety of our trip there with the exception of 1 day, when we traveled to Berwick Upon Tweed.. but Berwick is fodder for another time. This was a time when I was rather a purist about pictures. My camera was always in single shot mode. No bursts for me. If I could not get it in one, I didn’t deserve it. Remember that was back in 2012. I was a lot more innocent back then.

We are generally very lucky in terms of weather when we travel. It was no exception with Edinburgh for the first 4 days. The temperature was in the 60s, and the skies brilliant blue with no sign of clouds. As with every day there, we had started walking about 9am, ending at about 8pm. We logged a lot of miles, and on this day, it led us to Edinburgh Castle.

We arrived there about 11 on this particular day, and were able to wander around till we heard that he canon would be fired at 1:00. Exactly at 1:00:

 

As stated: 1300 GDT .. exactly

As stated: 1300 GDT .. exactly

 

We asked a guard, why the canon?  Why 1:00?

 

Edinburgh is very far North.  55 Degrees North Latitude.  The Bay of Fundy, which is know for it’s spectacular tides is at 45 Degrees North.  The bottom of Hudson Bay is at 55 Degrees North.  The further North you go, the more tidal action there is.  So Edinburgh, being a Seafaring village, needed a way to let Captains on their ships know the exact time so that they could synchronize watches and know the tides for the following day.  The Edinburgh Castle canon was the audio queue, and a giant ball dropping from Nelson’s Tower was the visual cue.  If you couldn’t see, you heard.  If you couldn’t hear, you saw.  If you didn’t hear and didn’t see, you were so drunk, you probably weren’t sailing the next day anyway.

 

Why 1:00?  The guard we asked paused for a moment, then said:  You know Scots.. frugal.  Why pay for 12 shells when you could pay for 1?

 

Don’t BLINK, or you’ll miss a bit of life…

 

 

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