Pithy Title Here

I don't know the exact moment the pandemic and all of the nonsense that is reality of 2020 fully dissolved away for the first time, but a good guess is when Comet Neowise was not just visible but immediately apparent in the sky over Cliff Lake on the first night I spent in the Dinkey Lakes Wilderness . Along with a great friend, I was standing on the shore of the lake, headlamp turned off and marveling at the sky and the quiet . For the moment, it was just about the highest ground I'd ever stood on (about 9,300') though we would push just beyond 10,000' on the trip. So, it was a moment that, even in normal times, would have been notable. In 2020, it was nothing short of an escape.

If the Sun wasn't out, I don't know where we'd be. Sunshine in Seattle can be unreliable until July 5 or so. The winter we had in the city this year was borderline cruel. We went from well behind on rain to nearly a foot over normal. Right before Christmas, Seattle recorded its literal darkest day ever . I'm not one who usually suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder, but this winter pushed me pretty close. So, this week, with the vast bulk of residents hunkered down working from home (or worse... but we'll get to that), the sunshine has been our only respite. The outdoors, you see, is still open. We're an active lot in Seattle. You may have heard we're a bit outdoorsy. Stereotypes often have their roots in some small truth and it's no accident that Patagonia, Fjallraven, Columbia, REI, Kuhl, Arcteryx and more all have downtown storefronts within blocks on one another here. We can't really go to those stores right now. They, like every other...

I was supposed to go to San Diego this coming Monday. I was supposed to go to Orange County the week after that. I was supposed to go to Sacramento the week after that. I will not be making any of these trips. Come hell or high water, I will be taking a trip to Nashville at the end of the first week of April, not the least of which because I bought this airfare before the panic set in and, well, that money isn't coming back. But also, I will be taking that trip barring significant changes because, well, life still has to be lived. At the beginning of this week, here in Seattle, it seemed like that was the majority opinion. The past two days, though, matters seem to have changed.

Just under 2/3 of the way up Aasgard Pass, I pulled my bite valve from my pack to have another few gulps of water, the stress of the climb in full sun and the high elevation finally catching up to me. After the first sip, the air bubbles started to mix in. “Oh nooooooo,” I turned to Nick, one of our trekking foursome. “I’m about to run out of water.” His reply? He was also running low. Aasgard Pass might be the last place you want to run out of water in the Cascades. Gaining nearly 2,000 feet of elevation in ¾ mile, it far exceeds my benchmark for a “strenuous” hike of 1,000 feet/mile. It’s the “shortcut” to The Enchantments, a gorgeous high plateau that would be our home for the next three nights. You’d break a sweat on the coldest day climbing Aasgard. What makes it worse is that there is a high flow stream almost right next to you. Getting to it (and back) safely? That wasn’t an option where we were. I looked at Nick, a man who has taken wilderness first responder...

Somehow, I just wrapped up one of the busier months of live music I've had. Sure, the two-night run in Oakland a few years ago when I caught Chvrches and Grimes on consecutive nights (getting Wolf Alice as a bonus), was something. That was also lightning in a bottle, the weekdays between two Coachella weekends when California is just lousy with big(ish) bands playing smaller shows. The run I've been fortunate enough to have since February 15 was more a combo of the ability to travel, some lucky ticket-getting and the right acts on tour in the same area around the right time. And, to be honest, they were all tremendous.

Songs will not be written about the Toyota Camry. A Camry will never feature in a major music video (at least not of a song you probably are going to like). The Camry is as white bread a car as you can find. It's earned its reputation as one of the most reliable cars on the road without any of the flash. Even when it tries to be flashy, such as a few recent redesign campaigns and its NASCAR launch, it sort of elicits a chuckle. It is the Pete Sampras of automobiles, lacking Agassi's flash, Federer's refinement, Nadal's passion... yet it does what it does so well. When I left New York City for Charlotte, N.C. in 2005, I needed a car. Well, I needed a car on the budget I was on, which, despite Charlotte's cosmopolitan aspirations, meant a pay cut from NYC, about-the-same rent, and new expenses (car payment, car insurance). You can imagine I wanted something that wasn't going to be in the shop with anything resembling frequency. The Camry fit the bill that Augu...

Lord. This is the only post I've made to the blog all year, which has a lot more to do with availability of time (and how free time is spent) than a lack of things to say. Several times, I've put fingers to keys only to back off... it's been a year of listening more than ranting, though, here's a one-line political blog for you, dear reader: There seem to be a lot more people interested in telling/trolling than listening. Anyway. The music. Weird flipping year. I've had about 18 hours with the new N.E.R.D. and Charli XCX albums/mixtapes/whatever-the-hell-we-call-40-minutes-of-music-in-one-place-anymores. One album below came out last year, because if you put something out on Christmas Day, it's not going on that year's list. Taylor Swift somehow managed to be simultaneously the most and least relevant musician of the year. Beck put out the perfect album for the summer of 2015, which, perhaps, makes it a candidate for one of this year's most disappoi...