Swim with Dolphins and Ride Desert Ridges

I awoke on the beach in Malibu, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes to have my first ever glimpse at the turbulent Pacific.
“There’s some coffee over on the picnic table if you want it,” the stranger in the campsite next to mine offered, as I’m still sitting in my sleeping bag. “You got up just in time! Harvey is swimming by right now! He’s the beach seal. And the dolphins will be coming by any minute now.”
Where am I? And where are my friends who opted to stay in the RV while I tossed a bag under the stars by the crashing waves? And how did I awaken to a kind coffee-giving tour guide? I love my life.
After coffee and conversation, I notice one person in the water. “It’s so rough! You can swim here?”
“Yeah. I’ve done it. And if you get in now, you might be in as the dolphins swim by.”
Ten minutes later I’m fighting the current and the cold, hoping to fight my way through the rough waters to get far enough off shore for some dolphin interaction. I missed the group. As I turned disappointedly in the other direction, a solo straggler was headed toward me. How appropriate. We swam side by side for quite awhile – a good ten minutes or so.
I consider myself a fairly good swimmer. Floating through the glassy calm past where waves begin, it’s easy to stay and swim the placid waters all day. But getting back to the rocky shore was down right frightening. I have a sick theory that it’s healthy or enlightening to feel the hot air of death breathing down your neck once every few years. One wave in particular fulfilled that quasi-annual experience for hopefully the next few years. Crazy scary for a few minutes there. Ah but the endorphin rush!
After drying off and recuperating, I hop on my bicycle and head through the Santa Monica Mountains. Overlook Trail’s steep ascent along exposed cliff-side single track in the heat of mid-day took this sweaty, panting chica to an amazing ridge-line vista 1300 feet above sea level. I looked out in awe upon a seemingly endless expanse of desert mountains: where’s the ocean? I was swimming with dolphins this morning in the Pacific, and now, not two hours later, I’m mountain biking on top of the Santa Monica Mountains ridge line – all without ever hopping in a vehicle. Does life get more perfect?
It does. After my descent I found another biker chick, and she introduced me to her favorite single track in the area.
“I told my husband I was leaving work early to mountain bike; he got jealous and left work early to surf. What a rough life we have!!!” (Kathy)
The sunset mesmerized me, and the waves lulled my worn out body to sleep under a perfectly starry sky.
Perfection.

Westward with Ho

This morning we awoke beside a canyon, surrounded by towering sunflower stalks, small spurts of rosemary, sage and numerous other specimens I forget or never knew the names of. The desert speaks to me like nowhere else ever could. I long for the sweet scent of creosote and desert rain. The vast expanse of uninhibited desert views spread before me, even under this unusual cloudy sky. A bird soars above the canyon - but beneath me - it’s caw echoing through the walls below.
We’re in Texas, and the locals fear the end times are near. I mean, 80 some degrees in Texas in the middle of August? What’s wrong with the world? Whatever happened to global warming?
Indiannapolis ended on a fabulous note. The new boss who witnessed only one hour of our event site performance up in Chicago last month – the absolute most horrendous everything-went-wrong-that-could kind of hour – came for the entire weekend. Sparky and I rocked even more than usual (hard to do). He was impressed. The world is a better place.
The Arkansas event was cancelled, so we opted for another 24 hour whirlwind in Cincy. Very productive: necessary closure and actual work accomplished. And then, Bubba Sparks and I picked our spirits up off the floor where they’d been stomped on for the past few weeks and gave a “Wooo! Hell yeah, girlfriend! We is heading out West, yo!”
No one else has ever come closer to being my soul mate. And no – to the chagrin of most men – our relationship is nothing but plutonic. But I’ve never spent this much time with any one person in my life. And I don’t believer I’ve ever shared such similar opinions on such a broad spectrum of subjects – or shared a similarly fucked up past/path – with anyone. Although admitedly, it’s unfortunately rare that such extensive, in-depth, and honest conversations happen with most people you come across.
Point is, kids – life is fucking beautiful. I’m going back to AZ!!!!! I’ve go a few days off to enjoy AZ and perhaps San Diego. However, after that, we’re slammed. We were supposed to have time off during San Fran Fringe, but such is no longer the case. Sadness. But I sure as shit can’t complain!!
I think three different guys fell for me in Indiannapolis. Strange. Sparks and I had a conversation about breaking hearts across the country:
“It’s bad Karma” she says.
I think the opposite. I mean, it would be nice if we just kissed and had fun and went our separate ways. (And BTW – that’s really all I do, is kiss. Safety.) But if most people are anything like me, it takes a whole hell of a lot to ignite a spark. And on the rare occasion that someone is able to make me feel, care, fear falling and contemplate the dreaded “L” word – I’m thankful. As much pain as I may end up enduring at the brevity and inevitably unreciprocated emotion, at least I know I’m still capable of feeling. And that perhaps I’ll feel that way again in the future. And hey – someone looked at me with kindness in his eyes – if only for a moment.
The road is a lonely, beautiful place.