Headed up to Lassen NP for the weekend with Carol, Jon, Andrew, and Andrew's friend Jard. Got up there around lunchtime, and headed up high to play in the snow. Carol and I on snowshoes, the other three on skis, we headed for an easy hike up Eagle Pk. Back out, around to the north side of the mountain to check out the eruption zone, then stopped on the way back to camp to snort some gas from the volcanic mud pits. And Jon has a tent with inflatable poles.
run58:17 5.87 mi (9:56 / mi) +226m8:52 / mi ahr:144 max:161
The dull glow of the monitor flickered on and off. On and off. It buzzed as though full of wasps, but quietly, like they were further away than they should have been. I sat slumped at my desk, tapping away on the keyboard impatiently, incessantly. I had code to write, and I needed it done soon. Problem was, I couldn't think. It was stuffy inside with the June afternoon heat. It used to be cooler, I thought, but at least its never as bad as downtown. The windows were cracked for a sorry breeze, but that only let in the racket from next door.
Two dames and the new guy in town, Vinnie, were getting ready for a good weekend. Brought his boat up from the big city, heading down to the lake. Going to be a great time, he thought. But then the coppers showed up. Frank and Hoss. Keeping the peace, not always for the right reasons, but they're good at what they do, so everyone lets them run. "Can't park your boat there, kid," says Frank. "Against housing regulations," drawls Hoss. Vinnie stammers and stutters and tries to explain himself, but deep down he knows he's wrong. The cops know he's wrong, and so just let him work it. Hell I know he's wrong, and I don't even care about boats. All I care about is getting out of here.
I walk down the steps, mulling over the work I'm not doing. Its bright out here; the sun never shone like this down in the city. I squint and pull down the brim of my cap, my head screaming in pain, but I couldn't tell if it was from Vinnie or just the day before. Its always from the day before. I step by the police cruiser just as Frank is pulling a crate of booze out of the boat. "Those are just packed with camping gear," Vinnie declared nervously, as the crate clinks to the floor a little too hard. Not the brightest bulb in the box. The dame in the back of the boat takes a swig from her camping gear and tosses it in the bush. But Hoss is watching. Hoss is always watching. Thats why he's so damn good.
Earlier I had choked down a cold bologna and ketchup sandwich for lunch. I knew I'd regret it, but it was all I could care for. The instant I hit the main road and started running, I did indeed regret it. Not a wise choise, I thought to myself. It was going to be a long day. I struggle down the creek until the turn at the campsite. Water washed out the trail in more places than seemed decent, cutting left and right and occasionally down the middle, like a five year old trying to color between the lines. Up on the far side it was dry, but dirty and hot. I try to stay in the trees, but its worthless up here, you just can't get away. I check out the power lines on top, it's more of the same. I double back just in case, I don't know why.
By the time I hit the main road again, I hear sirens wailing in the distance. I hope thats Vinnie, I think smugly. Put him away and maybe we'll get a quiet weekend around here. Sure, you can hope, I tell myself. I've seen a lot of this place over the years, but one thing never changes: weekends are never what you'd like. But I maintain the lie as I head across the flitting shadows of the subdivision, its easier to think that way, and today is not the day for change.
run54:40 3.32 mi (16:28 / mi) +329m12:35 / mi ahr:132 max:163
Easy reno run in a random park down by Carol's work. We found a good looking canyon and went all louis l'amoure on it. There were abandoned jeeps and wild horses and everything. Good trail for the first half, less good for the second.