Rock Bottom - Again!

It started innocently enough.

I was probably the first visitor to straggle in - was it Boxing Day? Yes! And where I ended up was at RockBottom. Again! This was the second time in four months at RockBottom, Trevor and Sonia´s new place in No Man´s Land, nearly between Courtenay and Comox. Then Tom arrived and a little later Kerry.

Cocktailing helped decide it. Some of us would go to the Mountain tomorrow, skiing and snowboarding.


I brought Felicity up and she went skiing. Tom tried out his new skis. Kerry and I went boarding.




Over the next bit I went skiing and boarding four wonderful days, every fall cushioned on ten feet of base.


During our first day on the mountain Lee and Colleen hit RockBottom, then Carolyn and the gang was complete.




Because festivities started at the crack of eight in the morning, a dangerous situation at Rockbottom what with the formidable hosting powers of Trevor and Sonia, some caution was required. For example one rainy day we decided that we must identify 30 species of birds before we could go to the bar. We had the 30 well in hand by opening time. In fact Trevor picked out a lifetime first for me. A Eurasian Widgeon.

Each evening we scrubbed up and headed to a new restaurant, glamorous in our laidback way. I should tell why the house is called RockBottom. Jimmy Buffet sang about hitting "rockbottom, again" in a Pirate Looks at Forty. Trevor and Sonia for sure, and the others to varying degrees, can safely be called Parrotheads. So that´s the theme.


After dining and cocktails the guitars came out. The picture to the side is the first picture of some jamming members of the Hawaiin Vaqueros. The playing sucked but the zeal was overwhelming.




We descended on the Westerly for New Year´s Eve, a local hotel where several very good bands and Amos Garrett, among others, played and sang, showing the Hawaiin Vaqueros how to do it.


And as always, ´zee girls, zee girls, zay were all beuoootiful!











And zee Men, zee men, zey were all so handsome and dashing. Tom, it must be confessed, had an evil thought or two.


And everyone was glamorous as New Year´s 2007 was brought in.


It went downhill at RockBottom a little later. Others soldiered on beyond the wee hours but I was MIA by 2:30 am, a rather dismal performance !

Travels with Charlie

Down the road, again!


My departure from La Paz was hasty - health concerns about my youngest! By the time I got to the border those concerns had subsided somewhat so I decided to amble northward to Calgary then on to the island for Christmas.

Death Valley gave me pause? But I found Los Vegas impeded me more.



It was Cirque du Soliel and Mystere. Fascinating, a wonder, marvellous!





Reverting to form, later in a graveyard on the way through Utah, I stopped and found Great-grandfather and mother Conrad (and Bullocks) but not the Van Dams or Evans. About here my camera crapped out - at least until Christmas time.

Then it was off to Elaine's in Lethbridge and Calgary for linguini with Ed, suchi with Jennifer and a cocktail or two with CJ! Down in Pincher Creek Ron and Bonnie put me up on condition I care for George (cat) and Dude (dog).

On two days I stole away for snowboarding at Fernie, Snow Valley. The first day I got caught in a Crowsnest Pass blizzard, winds of 100 mph, and got stuck. The second day boarding was heavenly. Following was the ever-so familiar run down to the Coast and Victoria.



Christmas Day at Vanessa and Geoff's house was wonderful, what with meeting the extended family, including the nearly legendary Gma Hicks, the feast and the games. Geoff and my girls love the camera. Rightfully so I guess because the camera loves them!




There was the traditional exchange of presents. I take particular pride in my present to Verity and Felicity.



At the annual Orphan's Charity Auction in La Paz people laughed at my 140 peso bid on a sluice box. Well, I got stuck with that bid so I carried the box all the way across the western USA and Canada. If you give a man a fish, he eats for a day; if you teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime. So it is with gold (ergo sluice boxes). At least that is what I told my daughters.

They said they liked it!

Steinbeck's Ghost - Scary!

December 2


In a craggy valley in the Sierra de la Giganta, much like this one, the trackers killed Coyotito, shot his poor one year old head off.

Bill on Rocky n' Brew started it all - giving me Steinbeck's "The Pearl"to reread. I got all metaphysical when I realized that it was about La Paz and Loreto, the connecting marvellous sea coast and the spinal montana range backing it. I had to go see what Steinbeck and Ricketts saw and felt in 1940. While doing that I might hike, bird, commune with nature. That was my fantasy.


One serene morning, long before dawn, I departed Le Paz to follow the flight of Kino, Jauna, Coyotito and the spoor of those evil tracker-hunters that wanted to kill them and steal the 'Pearl of the World'. Just before taking to the mountains I stopped at Puerto Escondido to scope the anchorage. Pure and blissful.


Then it was off on my quiet pilgrimage into the mountains. Twisting and winding up the one lane path was a bumpy, dirty undertaking but scenic and quiet, at least for a while. Before long traffic mounted, far beyond what one might expect on such a road in such a place. Unbeknowst to me another pilgrimage was under way. The once a year festival at the Mission of San Javier high on the divide.



Traffic climbed, slowed, then jamned, finally turning to a 'Mexican stand-off' high in the mountains. Policia funneled the traffic, including me, into the parking lot which, as it turns out, was an intermitant river that runs under the Mission. There they deposited me while the parade passed and the river flowed.




There was no going back against the flood of happy humanity so once the parade passed I descended the range on the western slope, the Pacific side, fording streams about 50 times while avoiding Godzilla spiders.


Steinbeck abandoned me long before. My holy quest entirely failed on this one day of the year when people were in the mountains. I toddled back to La Paz in the middle of the night. Content for it all.

Set a bit of sail!

November 24th


Waiting for stuff! And it doesn't come. Finding La Paz entirely too 'sticky' in the nice sense of the word? What to do? Go for a less ambitious sail!




While my mind wanders a friendly dolphin escorts Anya through the shallows and out into the Bay.



Once underway my mission will be to: conduct a sea trial, dive and scub the barnacles off the bottom, sail, all the while looking for the several humpback whales and whale sharks reported in the Bahai de la Paz.



When no sharks or whales present themselves I drop anchor near Playa Balandra. Such a pretty beach. That is another Canadian boat at anchor over by mushroom rock. I did the bottom and snorkled about in four fathoms for a bit.


The good life! And this is a great place. Off in the distance lies Espiritu Santo, an old friend from last year.



Closer by paddles my more recent friend, a brown Pelican.

Sergio!

November 16



On my left is the 5 day bubble for Sergio, now a level 2 Hurricane, now headed in Anya's general direction. Reportedly this is a month after Hurricane season finishes here so the weather soothsayers- dudes are surprised. I am not leaving La Paz safe harbour until Sergio makes his move. So it looks like another week of lassitude, then off to San Carlos and the future.

Sloth and Heathen Folly!

November 13 th - La Paz


Anya has been afloat now 10 days and nights. She is happy. While happy myself, I have suffered a bad back from packing a 100 lb battery around and then throwing its 100 lb replacement away. And a tinsy tropical cold hangs on. But for these modest whines, life is wonderful and I am embracing indolence with my natural flair.




Already I can tell that La Paz will be 'sticky', a hard place to detach from. So each day I plan my escape to secluded anchorages higher up in the Sea, each night I put it off to another day.



I have made several day trips in this last bit, one to Todo Santos where I actually strolled about Hotel California, famously subject of the song. Another day I went to Los Barriles, home of winter wind surfing. Each time I stopped to pick my way into the mysterious and rich desert, to see the flowers, the birds and these exotic plants.



Each step along the way it seems the vultures keep watching, perhaps waiting for me to run out of water, to lurch and stumble, ultimately to provide them a meal.




Othertimes along the way, the cows or the goats show up to inquire about my passage.





And a snake stopped by for a little visit once, a serpent I wanted to name Harper , honouring Canada's Prime Minister, the man who has single-handedly pruned my children's future well-being with his precipitous tax law changes. Then I remembered. I like and respect snakes.

Ravages of Hurricane John

November 1

Some did not do as well but Anya suffered little. In preparing for the Hurricane I neglected to take down the Canadian flag. As well I thought it might be rude to take down the Mexican courtesy flag.

Here are the remains. Canada on the left, Mexico on the right. These tattered remnants are even worse than the flag that got decimated in that nasty storm off-coast of Oregon on my way down last year.