|road trippin' with my two favorite allies...
||[Oct. 22nd, 2006|04:28 pm]
|||||RHCP - Road Trippin'||]|
The song fits perfectly. Snacks and supplies, including endless beer etc, the ocean, surfboards, chilling out in sunny California for a week.
I finally made it to Bolinas, which was as beautiful as I imagined. We slept in charming outbuildings and picked vegetables and Randall and Mickey knew everyone, of course, and we ate like kings. Surfed out at Palo Marin and chatted with some deer in love. Every night ended in the wood-fire hot tub beneath a surprising number of stars considering how close we were to the city. Spent one whole day driving Mt. Tamalpais, tires screaming around the corners, until we got to the top and skated and looked at the view. Remarked to myself how nice it was that Ben and Randall were such good drivers. The boys bombed some pretty intense sections on the way back down, but I am not as brave/skilled.
We drove through San Francisco and found huge waves at Ocean Beach. Randall broke his board in them, and I just tumbled along shore. Then we went to Berkeley and ate like kings some more, at Cater and Becky's house, the boys jammed beautifully with five instruments in the living room and we slept under the stars. We got up and drove down the 1 to Santa Cruz, where we surfed with the otters and met up with Ian, a friend of Randall's. We stayed with him at his house, which is a block from the beach at Pleasure Point, and he took us out to get wasted at an Anthony B show, and then to a secret spot the next day. The boys finally got their epic surf, and I got a tan and some epic tide pools. Ian left us each a perfect stone on the hood. I love how friends of friends so often feel instantly like friends.
We came home after going through Berkeley, and got just past Albany when we came up behind a traffic accident. We went from doing sixty to doing forty to doing a number on the back of a Mercedes driven by a nineteen year old girl. So now I have whiplash and maybe no car, or maybe a lot of parts bills, and Ben who was driving has a big ticket.
But we were all okay and all week I was in heaven just forgetting about email and cell phones and brushing my hair and I was loving tasting the ocean and smelling like the bay laurel trees we napped beneath and dancing hard and trying to catch waves and me and a Bolinas full of brother-figures and having good conversations beneath the stars and shooting the shit in the car and eating junk food all the time and falling asleep in the granary to the sound of the weathervane turning and singing songs and having my fears owing to all the drama leading up to the trip totally invalidated because really Randall is such a wonderful friend to me and maybe I focus on the bad too often with him, and now Ben is a friend too. We were some good little Musketeers. I miss it already.
Now, back to work. My extended thesis proposal I think will have to include a caveat about the number of painkillers I took while writing it. I think I've taken more than twenty since Friday night. Hopefully it will be vaguely coherent.