Most Amazing Weekend Ever
At 1:30 PM Friday a classmate called me:
Classmate: How are you getting up to the cabin this weekend?
Me: I'm driving, I'm going to leave directly from work. I have room in the car if you'd like to come with me.
Classmate: Oh, well I was going to fly and wanted to know if you'd want to come along.
Me: FUCK YEAH!
And that is how my weekend began. I busted out of work at 3:30 to pick up my classmate at his place in SF, busted ass down to Palo Alto to get ourselves and our gear into the Cessna and get off the ground in time to land at the Hoopa airfield on the Hoopa Indian reservation before dusk. The Hoopa airstrip has no lights, you see.
We scramble, we load, we take off, we fly across the bay, up over Napa and on north.
About 45 min into the flight:
Classmate: You wanna fly?
Me: FUCK YEAH!
And so I flew the plane. My job: Hold this heading and this altitude. OK. I can focus on making the needles all stay where I want them to. I seemed to do well. I was lauded for my performance both going out and, at the end of the weekend, coming back as "the most natural pilot I've ever taken up. Dude, you have to get your license".
As the sun is going down, we spot the Hoopa airfield. We land. 5 minutes later, our other classmate arrives to pick us up. With two beers cold and in the car. She's a good woman.
The cabin: On the Klamath river, giant place built so the classmate's whole family can come down and hang out there. Sleeps like 20 people with no trouble.
Saturday morning I got up and cooked breakfast for all in residence: French toast with strawberry of mango puree and whipped cream, southwestern omelets, and bacon. It went over well.
Then after breakfast, I took a giant nap. Then I got up and sadly had to finish a take-home final, and did bits and pieces of it throughout the day. I finished it in time for dinner.
After dinner, we all wondered down to the river's sand bar where we made a bonfire and hung out. Folks drank, smoked cigars.
Sunday we went rafting. Aside from the meltdown from a classmate's 7 year old daughter, the trip was great. Some "whee this is fun" rapids punctuated long tracks of drifting. I was placed in the raft with the kids who were not expected to be pulling their own weight. I was thought of as the human outboard motor, given that rowing (not quite rafting) is my primary calling in life.
Seems folks were right. Not that we were really going nuts, but just my steering alone made my raft totally horizon my classmates in the other raft.
At one point, we stopped to climb this big rock outcropping from which one can jump and 30 feet later land in the deep river. We jumped and swam. It was fun.
I managed to do all of this without getting sunburnt. I wore my long sleeve white coolmax shirt and my wide brim sun hat (I look like a Canadian mounty in it, but I won't get melanoma on my ears).
Among the guests at the lodge were two 9 week old human twin babies and one 11 week old flopsy white with black spotted Great Dane baby puppy named smalls. This puppy was as insanely adorable as an enthusiastic affectionate "my-paws-are-WAY-too-big-for-me-and-I-grew-four-inches-last-night-so-I'm-not-too-coordinated-yet,-but-I really-want-to-play" puppy can be. I also enjoyed quality time with some of the babies.
The interesting dimension of the weekend was the pot. I've never smoked anything in my life, and have no interest. But it's northern CA, and it's not my party. I suppose I was most taken aback when the husband of the classmate whose 7 year old melted down on the rafting trip (father of said 7 year old) asked the hostess flat out, upon returning from our trip, if she had any pot. In exactly the same way one would make the request if one were asking for advil. Pot was supplied. Papa smoked up. Seems he had had a stressful day on the river with all that intense family interaction.
I found this odd. Yes, I wanted to throw the whiney bawly 7 year old overboard. Did I? Nope. Was I over it by the time we got back to the cabin? Not wholly. Was I reaching for a substance to adjust my pyschological state? Nope. Just odd. Anyway, pot is not my deal. I've not tried it, but don't care to. I'm trying to avoid mood altering chemicals right now.
We got up and helped clean the cabin top to bottom this morning. Since the hostess was our ride to the Hoopa airstrip, and since we weren't leaving till she left, and she wasn't leaving till the place was clean, we really cleaned. She did most of the work, sadly, but we tried to help as we could.
On the plane trip home, we stopped once for gas, then once for lunch at this restaurant near Shelter cove. On our first attempt to land we had to abort because two deer decided to stroll onto the runway. Restaurant of choice was closed, but we restaurant option two happened to serve fresh caught and perfectly battered fish and chips (which was exactly what I had hoped to eat for lunch anyway). And when the lady asked about dessert, and I asked what they had, she gave me my favorite answer:
Lady: ... cake, Carrot cake, Lem...
Me: FUCK YEAH!
I told my classmate I must have my karma in good shape cuz the universe is hooking me up with a great weekend.
I flew an airplane, played with a great Dane puppy, went for a morning run, held some babies, swam in a river, rafted in beautiful country, hung out in front of a fire, got some carrot cake, fish and chips, basil pesto and didn't think about my job once. I had a great time.
Classmate: How are you getting up to the cabin this weekend?
Me: I'm driving, I'm going to leave directly from work. I have room in the car if you'd like to come with me.
Classmate: Oh, well I was going to fly and wanted to know if you'd want to come along.
Me: FUCK YEAH!
And that is how my weekend began. I busted out of work at 3:30 to pick up my classmate at his place in SF, busted ass down to Palo Alto to get ourselves and our gear into the Cessna and get off the ground in time to land at the Hoopa airfield on the Hoopa Indian reservation before dusk. The Hoopa airstrip has no lights, you see.
We scramble, we load, we take off, we fly across the bay, up over Napa and on north.
About 45 min into the flight:
Classmate: You wanna fly?
Me: FUCK YEAH!
And so I flew the plane. My job: Hold this heading and this altitude. OK. I can focus on making the needles all stay where I want them to. I seemed to do well. I was lauded for my performance both going out and, at the end of the weekend, coming back as "the most natural pilot I've ever taken up. Dude, you have to get your license".
As the sun is going down, we spot the Hoopa airfield. We land. 5 minutes later, our other classmate arrives to pick us up. With two beers cold and in the car. She's a good woman.
The cabin: On the Klamath river, giant place built so the classmate's whole family can come down and hang out there. Sleeps like 20 people with no trouble.
Saturday morning I got up and cooked breakfast for all in residence: French toast with strawberry of mango puree and whipped cream, southwestern omelets, and bacon. It went over well.
Then after breakfast, I took a giant nap. Then I got up and sadly had to finish a take-home final, and did bits and pieces of it throughout the day. I finished it in time for dinner.
After dinner, we all wondered down to the river's sand bar where we made a bonfire and hung out. Folks drank, smoked cigars.
Sunday we went rafting. Aside from the meltdown from a classmate's 7 year old daughter, the trip was great. Some "whee this is fun" rapids punctuated long tracks of drifting. I was placed in the raft with the kids who were not expected to be pulling their own weight. I was thought of as the human outboard motor, given that rowing (not quite rafting) is my primary calling in life.
Seems folks were right. Not that we were really going nuts, but just my steering alone made my raft totally horizon my classmates in the other raft.
At one point, we stopped to climb this big rock outcropping from which one can jump and 30 feet later land in the deep river. We jumped and swam. It was fun.
I managed to do all of this without getting sunburnt. I wore my long sleeve white coolmax shirt and my wide brim sun hat (I look like a Canadian mounty in it, but I won't get melanoma on my ears).
Among the guests at the lodge were two 9 week old human twin babies and one 11 week old flopsy white with black spotted Great Dane baby puppy named smalls. This puppy was as insanely adorable as an enthusiastic affectionate "my-paws-are-WAY-too-big-for-me-and-I-grew-four-inches-last-night-so-I'm-not-too-coordinated-yet,-but-I really-want-to-play" puppy can be. I also enjoyed quality time with some of the babies.
The interesting dimension of the weekend was the pot. I've never smoked anything in my life, and have no interest. But it's northern CA, and it's not my party. I suppose I was most taken aback when the husband of the classmate whose 7 year old melted down on the rafting trip (father of said 7 year old) asked the hostess flat out, upon returning from our trip, if she had any pot. In exactly the same way one would make the request if one were asking for advil. Pot was supplied. Papa smoked up. Seems he had had a stressful day on the river with all that intense family interaction.
I found this odd. Yes, I wanted to throw the whiney bawly 7 year old overboard. Did I? Nope. Was I over it by the time we got back to the cabin? Not wholly. Was I reaching for a substance to adjust my pyschological state? Nope. Just odd. Anyway, pot is not my deal. I've not tried it, but don't care to. I'm trying to avoid mood altering chemicals right now.
We got up and helped clean the cabin top to bottom this morning. Since the hostess was our ride to the Hoopa airstrip, and since we weren't leaving till she left, and she wasn't leaving till the place was clean, we really cleaned. She did most of the work, sadly, but we tried to help as we could.
On the plane trip home, we stopped once for gas, then once for lunch at this restaurant near Shelter cove. On our first attempt to land we had to abort because two deer decided to stroll onto the runway. Restaurant of choice was closed, but we restaurant option two happened to serve fresh caught and perfectly battered fish and chips (which was exactly what I had hoped to eat for lunch anyway). And when the lady asked about dessert, and I asked what they had, she gave me my favorite answer:
Lady: ... cake, Carrot cake, Lem...
Me: FUCK YEAH!
I told my classmate I must have my karma in good shape cuz the universe is hooking me up with a great weekend.
I flew an airplane, played with a great Dane puppy, went for a morning run, held some babies, swam in a river, rafted in beautiful country, hung out in front of a fire, got some carrot cake, fish and chips, basil pesto and didn't think about my job once. I had a great time.
posted by Kenneth at 9:30 PM
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