Day 5 to ?

As I sit here listening to a crazy lady yelling as loud as she possibly can about wanting her job back at a person who is “not her mother”, I’m thinking about two things. One, this blanket is really itchy and two, she has a really annoying voice. But I feel for her. I take that back she has a really annoying voice. Go away! I do however, also feel like yelling at someone. I would make sure to make it less annoying though. I don’t have a job yet, and I started applying for them back in September. The company decided not to tell me they weren’t going to hire me, even though they said they would let me know if I didn’t get a job. Now she’s banging on someone’s door. I went to investigate and turns out she is saying “give me my dog back”, not job. So my segue (had no idea that’s how that word is spelled) from crazy lady with job and mommy issues to my job issues just fell apart. Shoot. The point is I’m not happy about being unemployed. I’m also not happy that this freaking girl won’t leave the parking lot.

Because of my incessant email checking, waiting for some dang job new, it has been to hard to enjoy my time away from school and have some adventures. However, that doesn't mean I haven't had more adventures. Things have changed since my last post...mostly snow. Oh man has it snowed alot, apparently it has been a record early season! I've been taking advantage of it by doing some skinning, at night, in the middle of the day and at the wee hours of the morning, which is absolutely ridiculous because I have nothing to do all day. The few popular trails I've been on since it snowed are really well traveled and make for surprisingly good running. So that makes me happy because the one run I did on the roads from here was awful. A 400ft decent out the door on sidewalks to get to the busy dirty roads in town, coupled with not having run for a while, plus coming back up aforementioned hill makes for an unhappy Simon. What makes for a happy Simon, is weaving through a thick snowy forest over half frozen streams up and down hills in complete silence etc.

Speaking of thick snowy forests and streams and hills,Scott and I went on a winter backpacking trip in the backcountry. At this point I'd like to point out my amazing segueing skills. I'd also like to point out that the lady is back and annoying as ever. Anyway, we started from the rock creek trail head outside of Silverthorne, immediately took a 3 mile warm up hike/detour/we missed the turnoff, eventually got back onto the Gore range trail which 5.5 miles later met up with the salmon/willow lakes trail which we got on for a 3 mile accent to bring us to the Willow Lakes. That was a run on sentence if I have ever seen one. I learned a few things on this 12ish mile hike to our camp site. Everything is harder in the snow (i already knew this...wait for it) with a huge backpack on. Turns out its hard to pack light when you're going to be sleeping in the snow. The last three miles I was breaking trail up what was 2/3 of our elevation gain for the way out. Half way up as I was feeling super tired, grumpy, and fed up with my weak ass shoulders which haven't had a heavy pack on them for way too long. As a familiar burn crept up in my legs I started thinking about how nice it would have been to have snowshoes when I ran the Rim to Rim to Rim last March (the last mile and 1000 feet of elevation gain I was slowed both up and down with 2-3 feet of snow) which made me think about my other ultra marathon training runs, which made me think about my first ultra which made me think about how my second and third and fourth ultras will go which made me think, "I love this pain" and then I started going faster. What? Yes. I don't know either. But whenever I start thinking about stuff like that I go from feeling like crap and not loving it, to feeling like crap and feeling just the opposite. Anyway, eventually made it to our camp spot right next to the first of three completely frozen completely flat and completely white lakes. It was perfect.

We saw absolutely no one the first day (ran into a mule train on the way back) and were surrounded by wilderness which to us appeared completely untouched by humans. Not even having a trail to follow or evidence of anybody else ever being there made me feel so much more detached from the world...there is nothing better. Massive peaks with aggressive ridges and steep slopes rose straight out of the basin we were in only a few hundred feet from us and wrapped around us increasing the sense of isolation. I love mountains!!! (see earlier blog post). Though I didn't get much sleep in the cold and everything is much harder winter camping, that 20 mile trip was one of the best trips I've ever had. I can't wait to get back to that deep silence again. Turns out we could have made it a 10 mile round trip...20 is way more badass.

Well the girl has left, I am tired, and my warm room that makes far too much noise at night is calling. Tomorrow: get a job (this is a nightly plan), do some backcountry skiing, hottub (naturally) perhaps make something delicious for dinner, and try to forget about my troubles and enjoy the amazing life I'm living.

Breckenridge Colorado Day 1-4

Day 1- After a 10 hour drive from flagstaff (that is 2200 miles in about 10 days now). I made it to Breck and only 20 min after Scotty. We made a trip to the grocery store to buy some ingredients for our gourmet camp stove dinner of past and pasta sauce. Then spend another two hours looking for a camp site. We eventually found one, at about 10,000ft. Walking from the tent to the car leaves me breathing much harder than walking 50 ft should. Had our gourmet dinner next to an illegal camp fire (didn't find out it was illegal until the next day) and it was glorious...Also, at 10,000ft two beers go a long way.

Day 2- Started our search for a house at Starbucks...Yes i know starbucks. But in our defense we were told it was one of the only places with free wi-fi (lies) and it was in a sweet old yellow house. Anyway, called about 6 or 7 different places, and went and visted about 3 right away. Then we got a call for a cheap (relatively) place 200 meters from where I might work and from the ski lifts and it included heat, and we said yes. So we found a house the first day! Then we went for an epic bike ride in the rain up a trail that was less trail than it was a path amongst tree roots. Combined with the rain it made for a frustrating accent and a dangerous decent. Only crashed a couple times. This trail was right next to our camp site so we felt pretty badass biking and camping. Had gourmet leftovers for dinner.

Day 3- Scott had an interview and then we waited around for a phone call, which eventually came, so we got the application process going but still didn't know if we got the place. Then we went to another trail were I ran from and scott biked. The amount of trails in the place is ridiculous. Ultra training is going to be soo much fun next summer. Then we had some gourmet ramen and tuna seasoned with an artisan blend of chili spices. Saw a massive bear and I really do mean massive. Passed around my limited edition NAU ultimate frisbee, and went back into town for some local beer, where we met many drunk locals. Breckenridge Brewery Vanilla Porter is freaking delicious.

Day 4- Which is right now. Well not all of it is right now. This morning after/during a cup of tea continued our slacklining session that we started last night by car head lights. Now we're in a local cafe/bakery (yep no more Starbucks) waiting for our application to get approved so we can move into our sick pad bro. Which brings me to my next segment:

First impressions of Breck: Lots of bros. And I mean lots. It might get a bit overwhelming later. But we found a climbing/mountaineering/ski mountaineering shop yesterday which proved that there is a non-bro community here, which is a relief. I need to find somewhere I can buy a cord for my camera so I can upload pictures because it would make this boring post a heck of alot more interesting. Well I have to go figure out what i'm going to do today...Run? Mountain Bike? Climb? oh its a hard life.

Ireland

I am sitting here in a Galway hostel, being anti social and writing this. To be fair to myself...nevermind nope I just suck. By the time I finish this I will be done eating and off the computer and I'll have no excuse. Well anyway, Ireland has been for the most part more relaxing than Spain. Though cold, not very cold but after living in sweat kingdom, it is very cold. I've had two tours (by relatives) or Northern Ireland cities and I really enjoyed them, though I now have a completely different perspective of the how bad things were, how much better they have got but also how much separation there still is.

Been travelin alot on bus and train and since I left Spain without my Ipod and my concentration time while reading is about 2 minutes, 5 if it is an interesting part of the book, I have been doing alot of thinking. Thinking about...whether or not I want school to be in my future, thinking about girls, thinking about how cold I am, thinking about how awesome and cold this winter is going to be (I am cold right now), thinking about thinking, thinking about writing a book, though the more I think about it the more I think it is a ridiculous Idea, thinking about how I really want to go running, thinking about how I want to go biking, thinking about how I want to get a touring bike and go off for a few months next summer, thinking about how this would strongly conflict with plans to become a famous ultrarunner, thinking how awesome it would be to be a pro ultrarunner, thinking about how amazing real Cadbury's chocolate is, and finally thinking about how cool Ireland is. Well, I am done eating. Now its time to be a big boy and find some friends.

Bill and the Bar

I have an interesting story. Finally. Not that I haven’t had interesting experiences here but not ones worth telling. This one on the other hand will be worth it. I hope.

Well, Lizz (roommate) and I got bored of doing nothing on our 1 day off a week. So we rented a car, found a friend (Renata) and headed off for Valencia Friday afternoon. Upon arriving to Valencia we realized how crappy both google map directions and street signs are in Spain. We took a wrong turn, tried to get back to that wrong turn but took another wrong turn. We thought we were on the other side of town but after asking a meter-maid (don’t know what they are called in Spain) it ends up that second wrong turn was actually the correct turn we should have made the first time. Eventually found a great parking spot, great for its location and also, there wasn’t a bum guiding us in and then asking for money because of it. This is apparently a profession. One bum was ‘guiding’ people into regular diagonal parking spaces, telling them to stop as their tires hit the curb, and requesting money. And people paid! Ridiculous. Anyway, we checked into our hostel dropped off our stuff and set out the explore old town Valencia. It was super pretty, really old 19^th century buildings connected by a confusing maze of tiny one way streets through apartments, bars, stores, restaurants, etc. We ate some tapas (had amazing croquettes de pollo) and washed it down with sangria, then moved on and took a taxi to La Ciudad de Las Artes (city of the arts). All built within the last few years, every building is super modern with crazy architecture. Each building sits on top of or next to a reflection pool, so it’s twice as amazing. If my camera had been working you wouldn’t have to tell you to go here to see pictures. After Lizz took a million and a half pictures we headed back to old town for some more food and more booze. We were wandering through the maze when a guy stopped us and told us he could get us two for one drinks at the bar he was standing outside of. We went in of course. It was a strange bar, with a bit of an African vibe to it. Small and very smokey. We got our cheap beer and found another back room that no one was in, and decided to hang out there. After a few more drinks this old guy comes in and sits down at the bar at this back room. If you know Bill from Kill Bill, then you know this guy, only the Valencia version. He was minding his own business and sketching in an old book of his. Once he finished that he started drawing on this metal thing on the bar. We decided he was worth talking to. I’d say it was more other influences that made us talk to him but we did anyway. He spoke only a handful of English words but with my meager vocab and hand gestures we got to conversatin. He had apparently abandoned and/or finished his bar grafitti and moved on to drawing a pair of lizards embracing on Lizz’s chest. You read that right. For the rest of the night, Lizz had two lizards, one with a very long wandering tail, on her chest. Red Flag number 1. More beers where bought, more bad Spanish and bad English was exchanged and we were beginning to become great friends with this guy. His name was something like Eugene. We still don’t really know. He told us his name in Spanish, Catalan, English, and French. Anyway Eugene kept saying he had lots of pictures upstairs. Turned out his house was directly above this bar. Well being the smart travelers we were, we followed this creepy old guy to his apartment. His apartment was amazing. He had so much random stuff. Huge oil canvas paintings, safari hats, African walking sticks, a personal bar, and a big screen tv. For some reason, he insisted on showing us a recording of the Rolling Stones. I think he liked the fact that I was a yankee (pronounced jankee). Well he turned on the TV and oops, it was still on the Porn channel. Red flag number 24. But we watched the rolling stones anyway. I couldn’t help but rock out/laugh at the ridiculous situation we had gotten ourselves into. We mentioned we should probably be leaving; after all it was 4:30 in the morning. Then he said something to the effect of it would be easier if we slept in his house for the night. Red flag number 25, and everybody knows if you reach 25 red flags you need to get out of there. And we did, I explained as best I could that we had to go back to an unnamed hostel right away. He didn’t press the subject anymore and let us out the door without anymore flags. He did however request that we let his dog out to pee. Well we made it back to the hostel and slept off an amazing night. Next morning we got some food, visited an art museum (saw some really cool installation art), went to the royal gardens, had paella in its home city, had gelato…I’m in love, and went back to the car. Almost got lost again trying to leave but after a long tired drive back we made it. I spoke more Spanish in 24 hours than I have since I’ve been here. It makes me wonder how good I would be at speaking Spanish if I really was surrounded by it 24/7. Oh well.

I have 4 more days in Spain then I’m off to Ireland! It has gone so fast! I really want to go home, but I think I’ll miss it here too.

Flipping Awesome Restaurant

I just wrote a full page blog post, decided I didn't like it and deleted it. So here we go again attempt number two.

I want to own a restaurant. I want to be the chef of said restaurant. I want this restaurant to also be a bar/small time brewery. I also want the restaurant bar to be flipping awesome. How am I going to make it awesome? I'll tell you.

10 things that will make my restaurant flipping awesome:

1. I'll name it Simon's flipping awesome restaurant/bar.

2. Just kidding.

3. All local food: local meat, local fish (probably won't see too much fish on the menu), local produce. In fact, there we will use our own garden for some of the herbs and other veggies.

4. All organic...duh.

5. Everything will be the same price. Why? why not. I usually base so much of my descision for buying things at a restaurant on the price. This eliminates that problem. (this might never work...charging the same for a vegan dish as well as a nice steak might be hard but i like the idea anyway)

6. It will be gourmet, like really nice. but cheapish.

7. Vegan, vegetarian and gluten free options.

8. The bar...oh the bar: its going to be sick. Relaxed, with great local music often. not too big so it is still an intimate setting, but not snobby. Flag brew with a hint of wine loft, with great live music.

9. We might have a couple delicious home brews, and a lot of local and semi local microbrews.

10. It will just be awesome and you know it. Fancy, but not fancy. A nightclub but without the nightclub (basically my way of saying screw crappy loud music and people getting sloshed every night).

11. This one goes all the way to eleven!

Now lets be realistic. And when i say lets i actually do mean lets...both you and me. I know you think this will work and i will be come famous, but a few major things have to happen. First and foremost I have to become a real chef. I know you're thinking oh thats an easy fix, well you're wrong. I need better tools, like good knives and a food processor, and good pots and pans, and other utensils. Then it will be an easy fix. If you happen to be related to me (or not) and you provide me with these means to success and fame, I would be more than happy to give you a 10% discount at my restaurant. Haha only joking...20%.

Now in reality half of me thinks this is as far fetched as my little brother telling a good joke. But my other half, and arguably my better half (just to be clear we are only talking about me here) really really really wants this to happen. I like making food, I like feeding people, and I like doing both of those with great friends. So I will keep it in the front 2/3rds of my mind so it's there when I decide what I want to do with my life.

Um?

I don't know what to write about, except writing about not knowing what to write about. How about an Arizona trail training update! I'm glad you agree. Well I've run twice since decided to make the Arizona trail a goal. This was almost a month ago. So one could say its going well. Granted I have been road biking alot, and getting quite fit. So at least i'm doing something. I have over a year, I'll be fine. I think i want a camera to strap to my head and keep it on for a day, and that can be my blog. Then i won't have to think about what to write about. But if I do think of something i'll have a vlog of me writing my blog, I think that could be pretty intense. It's decided, someone send me a helmet cam.

Speaking of helmet cams, I went to the movie theater last night. It was Una Segunda Vez which means " A second time" which apparently is spanish for "the rebound." Well needless to say it was a romantic comedy, my favorite. It was an outdoor screen, with blown out speakers and plastic chairs. It was awesome. In my restaurant that I am going to start (I just thought of something to write about! next time) I have decided that I will have an outdoor movie theater on the roof. I will also only play the movies in spanish. Why? because romantic comedies are so predictable it doesn't really matter what language it is in. I think watching it in a language I barely know (barely is giving me the benefit of the doubt) made it, it being a romantic comedy, a much better movie. I wasn't rolling my eyes at all the corny lines but instead noticing the subtle details of the movie, like the actors expressions their acting skills and how hot Catherine Zeta-Jones still is. Note: This was not a subtle detail.

Look at this i've already written a bunch and feel good for it. And now I have all sorts of Ideas, but I will save them for later. For instance next post will be about my plans for a Montana Restaurant/bike shop/climbing wall/ brewery/cafe/bakery/movie theater. Maybe i'll include some feelings. I haven't decided yet.

There is no green circle.

Nothing is happening worth writing right now. And although I thought that organizing the shop and putting together a large tool board was pretty sweet, I don't want to waste your precious time. Instead I'm going write one that I hope to write in a few months.

It finally stopped snowing! 3 feet in town! We waited the precationary 24 hours, being avy savvy and everything. Here was our adventure this morning: Woke up, alarm reads 4:30 AM. Scott goes outside to turn the car on. I'm in the kitchen whipping up some scrambled eggs. All our gear is laid out by the front door ready to go. After we eat we pack up everything while a pot of water is boiling for tea. The silence outside and in the house makes me anxious and nervous for our outing. Everything is packed and ready and we head out. We drive down I-70 for 45 minutes to our favorit spot. Avy beacons, check. Skins defrosted and on skis, check. Grins on our faces, check. We start the slog at 5:45 but don't need our headlamps, the moon is a week away from full. We've been hiking for half an hour when the pops up from behind our second favorite mountain. We check the snow pack every few hundred feet of elevation gain. Snow looks great! Scott and I take turns breaking trail up the route we know so well. Neither of us are tired yet. Take a break to shed some layers and look out at the view. Now we can't catch our breath. Clouds have settled low in the "valleys" hiding everything below 9,000ft. The brilliant peaks seem to be coming out of nothing. Scott glance at each other and know this is going to be another amazing day. We reach the top and dig our second snow pit. No wind. No signs of other avalanches. We go through the rest of the checklist. Perfect. We discuss our plans on where to ski and spot and get ready to drop. I go first. It is bliss. Its knee deep at the top. It is so soft my skis don't make any noise. I can't hear much. Maybe its because I'm in a state of ecstasy, but all I can hear is my deep breathing as the cold air rushes in through my smile. My legs start burning, but I can't stop, I need to get out danger. I finally make it to the spot and signal scott with a loud whoop whoop. He takes a simlar route and eventually joins me. We are yelling and screaming and enjoying life. We've been waiting 2 years for this winter and it isn't dissapointing. I'm going to find it hard to go back to school...if I even decide to. I think I like this more. We get home and enjoy a nice local beer before we head off to our jobs for the night. Can't wait till tomorrow!

I like...

I have decided something. I am not a coastal person. I like to be land locked. Wait. If I were in Alaska heli skiing from summit to sea I think I would be ok. Rephrase: I like mountains. I like how small they can make me feel. I like how big can make me feel. I like how they make me feel safe. I like how insignificant they make the stresses of this crazy world humans have made. They stand there defiantly saying "blow me up I dare you", I am huge, I am taller than you're skyscrapers. Unfortunately sometimes we do blow them up and that just sucks. I like their uniqueness, whereas say, a sea or an ocean, all basically look like water. I do like coast lines, because they do are all different, and in some places are magnificent. I like how clean mountains are. The air. The smell. The nights. I like that people care about their mountains and their cleanliness, it seems many mountains are sacred to an Indian Tribe, and I don't blame them...obviously. I like the people associated with mountains. Outdoosry, healthy, active, laid back, positive, beautiful. And apparently these people make good beer, and good music, which I also like. I like the escape that mountains can provide. The terrain that limits access to only those willing to work a little for an undescribable reward.
I like that you can be completely alone in mountains, no sign of human life, no cars, no concrete, no shortcuts to make life 'easier'. Mountains mean the Verizon and AT&T can finally agree that neither of them provide cell phone coverage. I like driving towards mountains, the anticipation grows ever bigger as the mountains do the same. I like how they make me unable to speak when I realize how big they actually are. I like how they make me feel like I am leaving a friend when I drive away. A sad feeling, but it means I will be back as soon as I can. Suffice to say, I will live in, on, on top of, at the base of, or very close to mountains. Always. Why? I like mountains. I miss mountains. If mountains were a girl, and I saw her at a party I would use the words of my old friend Ron Burgandy. I want to be on you.

40x20

It is amazing how a good run can change everything. Went on a run yesterday on the beach, over a rocky hill, then through some farm land and it was excellent. I really haven't been running too much and apparently i really really miss it. During the run I decided at least needed to make a goal and have something to work for. I decided to go big so with you as my witness, I am going to attempt to run the entirety of the Arizona trail in the Fall of 2011. It is 800 miles and I would like to do it in around 20 days which would mean averaging 40 miles a day. This is a huuuge goal, but people run the appalachian triail (more than 2000 miles averaging more than 40 alll the time. and by all the time i mean very seldom) And I think I can do it. And if i do I'll be able to enter into the hardrock 100 trail race for the next year which is apparently a life goal of mine. Ready go.

I enjoy long sunrise walks on the beach.

The fan did little but blow hot air across his. As he lay in bed, his feet dangling listlessly off the end, he pressured himself to forget the one subject that had delayed his dreams for the last fortnight. In fact, it was only a dream that plagued his mind when he had nothing to preoccupy it and a good one at that, but a dream all the same. Instead, he began to think of ways to distract himself. He looked back to the week before and remembered all that had happened. Immediately he remembered an addition of one more to his loving family. His beautiful sister and her marginally attractive husband had given birth to the most beautiful baby boy named Kian. It was by far his most handsome nephew, and though he would not tell the others, his favorite. And although it was actually his only nephew, he had decided that no one, especially his younger brother, could ever produce such a beautiful boy named Kian. He usually corresponded to his siblings in the post, but since the letter carrier was once again laid up at home with a particularly nasty case of leprosy he had to resort to other means of communication. He decided on SkypeTM, even though it was a bit too fast for his taste. From thousands of miles away he got to chat with his one-day-old nephew. Chat doesn’t really convey the one sidedness of their conversation but after all, he had been asleep for nine months so he let it slide. He had to admit it was bitter sweet meeting his nephew on a computer when most of his family and half of Idaho, which is his brother-in-law’s family, had already met him in person. He felt a great warmth seeing his sister and brother-in-law with their son, noticing at once the loving looks they gave the baby and each other. He was very proud of his sister and new she would be an amazing mom, but still had doubts about that marginally attractive brother-in-law. God willing, his amazing, beautiful, intelligent, best parents in the entire universe will delve in to their deep hearts and send him to Boise so his nephew can finally meet his soon to be favorite uncle.


He didn’t really know his favorite color. He really didn’t know why he was pondering colors, but he was so he surrendered. He used to think it was yellow, but has to admit the reason was probably because no one else’s favorite color was yellow. He was tired of the common blues and greens that his companions consistently chose. Orange was the un-unique unique color, caused by people wanting to be unique, choosing what other “unique” people were choosing, thus condemning themselves to and endless life of his scrutiny. But yellow was more often than not quite and ugly color, so it was rarely chosen. Bananas, he said out loud. He wondered why he said that out loud and hoped his flat mate didn’t hear him, but agreed with himself that banana yellow was indeed a gross yellow. He thought back to 8 seconds ago when he noticed how weird the word unique looks. He was always doing this, writing simple words and not knowing if it was spelled right because it looked strange. Highlighter yellow, he thankfully said to himself, is more of yellow than it is highlighter color. He decided green was his favorite color.


He had done many new things that week, for instance he had a conversation in Spanish about a road bike with a Spanish Native, he was always trying to be PC. The Native had said something to the effect of these are my bikes (he learned a few minutes later that he was the rep for that bike company), and he replied oh si es una bicicleta Buena. It is a good bike. He was very happy with himself. He had also for the first time gone scuba diving. He was unusually nervous on the drive to the little cove situated below the lighthouse. Perhaps it was because an attractive young lady had told him that she had panicked when she went under the first time. He had told this gorgeous woman, (btw, she makes the rainclouds disappear and the sun always shines when she’s near) that he was a good complimenter and felt this a good time showcase his abilities even if it might be a bit over the top. Mission accomplished, he knew. In the end he didn’t panic. In fact he hardly needed any help from the instructor. And although most of the wildlife in the area was in the local tapas bars, he still enjoyed the experience immensely. It was relaxing, with only your darth vader breathing to listen too you can escape to a different realm. He hopes he can do some more.


His eyes are drooping and the frequency of red squiggly underlined words is increasing with every touch of the space bar. He thinks he has time for one more first so he soldiers on. He had woken up at 5am that morning to go to a beach, for a run. A run that was to be photographed, for a website. He wondered if this officially made him a model. He said yes, firmly. It was a sunrise shot and he was running down a beach hand in hand with his new girlfriend. It was quite early for a new relationship but it had been along time so he didn’t complain. They ran 10 feet with the sun rising at their backs and repeated, and repeated and…well he thinks you get the point. The photographer thinks they got a few good shots, and he was pleased. His debut went pretty smoothly. Unfortunately his relationship with his girlfriend didn’t last very long but alas he is young. He was rewarded for his ability to wake up early with a coupon to a nice restaurant on the resort where he works. It is a dinner for two, so he is wondering if he can have two separate dinners for 1. Or he will just wait for another photoshoot at a restaurant. Or even a date with a hot babe, who knows?

His eyes are almost shut now, and although he still has that subject in his head, the stress of being a professional scuba diver/model/bike mechanic/barbeque master has once again tuckered him out and he slips deep into his perfect world, a stain of drool forming on his pillow.

About to go for my first run since i've been here. Can't believe I haven't gone running yet. I guess I'm only now getting over the jet lag fully, and i've been working non stop and i'm a lazy bum. I have been bicycling though (I said I'd talk about it didn't I?). There are so many bicylists here. The roads in the mornings are full of them...Its no wonder the US is so fat in comparison to other countries. We did a 30 mile loop from the resort and it took us up hills to some beautiful views of the sea, then through some small villages and farm land. Its quite pretty here, some really nice hills and the sea and loads of olive and lemon trees.

So I just said 'loads'. Thats very british. I am surround by british people and have already started using their words. Its kind of annoying cuz I feel fake...and british but people don't really know what to say when i say whats up. 'How you goin', or 'you alright there' seems to work better. Speaking of language, Spanish spanish is soo much different then what we learn in the states. And even if i was in Mexico i would still suck at it. I was at a bar and lady came over and said something and I just said, dos cervesas por favor...later we think she asked if we had been helped...whoops.

The world cup! I don't use this version often but O.M.G!!! We went back to the same bar/restaurant to watch it but with way more people. It was super intense before they scored. Everyone was getting ridiculously frustrated. It was a great example of a real soccer nation in the thick of it. And once they scored...oh man. Even I was up on my feet dancing...but only for a minute...They carried on until the game was over still celebrating that goal. I didn't think it could be more ridiculous until the ref blew the final whistle. Mayhem. People were crying, kissing hugging, humping (with their clothes on i wasn't in madrid) climbing on top of each other, crying some more and singing alot. Yo soy espanol, espanol, espanol! I sang along to the other songs even though I didn't know the words, but felt like I didn't deserve to sing that one. Everybody had been drinking heavily (3 of us polished of 3 buckets of 10 beers, they were small-20 centileters, whatever that means but probably about 8-10 oz, and we were feeling great). Anyway, after the match everyone got in the their cars and drove around the small neighbor hooonking and blasting "we are the champions." Remember, everyone was drinking. A bit sketchy but hey they deserved it and all the under 10 year olds were on the sidewalk out of the way...for the most part. They got out a hose and everyone was dancing and singing in the street and getting drenched, there were mini fireworks and just plain crazyness. I was loving just watching it go down, I can't imagine how amazing everyone felt. I really can't describe it well enough. Just be jealous and that will work for me.

Off to run now, trying to find my way to a cliff that overlooks the Med. Going scuba diving on thursday! and perhaps doing some modeling later on. Yes I am going to be a model. Not really, but I'm going to pretend. Geoff (cousin-in-law and boss) might be taking pictures of me and my pseudo-girlfriend (sorry mom) running on a beach at sunrise, so they can use the pictures for the resort website. You can be jealous again, I don't mind. Adios,

Simon

Spain!

Blog Post

So I’m writing a blog. Never thought I’d do that. Also never thought I’d be a bicycle mechanic on the Mediterranean coast so there you go. So bear with my blogging ignorance. I once tried to keep a diary after reading a mountaineering book by an accomplished mountaineer…he kept a journal. I wrote in it twice. Perhaps it was because I didn’t have stories about nearly dying on the 14 tallest mountains in the world, and instead wrote about my run that day and how I don’t understand women. I feel like this could be more of a success because I’m not complaining to myself about girls and I’m doing more interesting things than running (like road biking! But more on that later).

I started planning this hiatus between undergrad and grad school about a semester in to my sophomore year. It started with plans to become a ski bum after I graduated, then a trip to spain was added when my cousin-in-law (cousin’s husband [partner-they aren’t married]) offered me a job working for him. And it’s all finally starting! Aww snap.

So I’ve been in Spain for 24 hours, and it took about that long to get here. It almost took longer to get here than that because I almost got sent back to the US at the UK border. In a rush the day before, I had forgotten my printed out itinerary. Since I had to change airports in London from Heathrow to Gatwick I had to go through customs, where with out some silly print out, I couldn’t prove that I was leaving the UK in 4 hours time for Spain. Since I look like I’m 13 and I had no stamps in my passport, the grumpy old man chalked it up to my lack of travel experience. This was not before he asked me every single question imaginable. I understand I was in the wrong and he had to make sure I wasn’t some low life trying to become an illegal in London or something, but did he really have to ask me what I intended to do with my musical instrument? No shit Sherlock (Sherlock is from Britain…Awesome joke, I know). But I finally made it through and got to Gatwick so I could spend 3 hours
waiting for my delayed flight in the hot crowded Duty free “mall” that is the main terminal.

Well I finally arrived. The Spanish customs agent didn’t even ask me why I was coming into Spain. That night after being up for 36+hours I went to a local restaurant bar where we ate awful pizza while watching the Spain-Germany Game. There weren’t too many people but enough and it was a really good time. There were grandmas and babies all partying along with the middle agers. IT was a great atmosphere. I’ve already started working in the bike shop. The shop is in a huge resort where a lot of Europeans summer. Its hard to work on my awful Spanish there, but it turns out my bicycle knowledge is quite needed. It’s going to be a busy two months. Hasta Luego.