Yesterday was an epic day.
This winter season has been disappointing up until this past two weeks. Although there has been snowfall, the temperatures have been far above normal. I wonder if it's related to the same reasons we had so many hurricanes last year. For whatever reasons, the snow quality has been relatively weak for us snowboarders and skiers.
I have managed to have some very good days this season, but only by watching weather and getting to the snow as soon as it falls. Invariably within a day or two, the weather would warm up to the 40's or even higher and the snow would begin to melt away.
I was beginning to think the whole season would be that way. Then March came and, so far, things have been looking up. The past two weeks have seen four to five feet of new snow and cold weather. Three of those feet fell yesterday and the day before.
We knew the storm was coming and planned a trip to Kirkwood, which requires planning because it is not near our cabin and we had to bring our equipment back home last week in order to make the trip. Over the course of the week, the weather reports showed good potential, but conflicted about exactly when and how much even up to our departure time.
We decided to drive into the beast, not really knowing how bad the weather would be. We got to Jackson at the foothills of the mountain at about 7 am, and it was already snowing heavily in this little town that clearly wasn't used to getting any snow. This would be about a 90 minute drive up the mountain with clear roads, but these roads weren't clear. As we took the final turn out of Jackson to head up the highway, a CHP officer was only 3 cars ahead of us. He turned on his roof lights and slowed down. I thought to myself, "Oh no, please don't." But he did. Just then he pulled his car across the lanes, blocking the traffic. He got out and shook his head at us and pointed us to turn around. I asked if he was closing the highway and his words were, "we're losing too many cars up there." Wow.
So uncertain whether he had just saved our skins or ruined our day, we pulled out the map. The only other way to Kirkwood was to get to Highway 50 (somehow) and go through South Lake Tahoe, a several hour detour. It was a crushing blow.
Determined, we decided to take Highway 49, an unfamiliar road, to try and make the detour. Mind you, the road was essentially empty and covered in snow. Unfortunately, the road also made many turns and changed street names along the way. Even more unfortunately, the signs were often illegible because of the snow cover.
After driving through a most beautiful winter scene for maybe an hour, it became clear that a) we were supposed to have met our other highway by that distance and b) the road we were on didn't have any tire tracks on it besides ours. We flagged down a passer by (the opposite direction did have some tracks) and I asked him how to get to Highway 50. He said, "You should take Highway 49". Which gave way to my very own favorite quote of the day. "This isn't Highway 49?".
Luckily we weren't too far off course and did manage to get to Highway 50 which Caltrans' hotline was reporting as "escorted by Highway Patrol only." Things seemed bleak, but we thought as long as we were there, we should keep trying.
We met Highway 50 in Placerville. In the first two miles, we saw four cars that had bit the dust off the side of the Highway, some of them flipped over. I noted importantly, that many were even four wheel drive vehicles, like mine.
We inched our way up the mountain, often as slow as 10 miles per hour.
As we made our way to the top, we considered stopping at the Sierra ski resort since we knew we'd get more time on the mountain that way. But the prospect of the much superior terrain at Kirkwood kept us moving forward even not knowing the further delays we might find. We were enduring this all to have the epic day. Not the consolation day.
We made it to Kirkwood around noon and the weather settled down a bit.
We got our epic day in the three new feet of snow; the day those safe at sea level could only dream of.
After getting to the summit and bombing down some of the most amazing terrain ever, we really felt like we had given mother nature a run for her money.
Despite the delays and challenges, we felt like we had succeeded in our mission.
Epic.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Friday, March 03, 2006
Art
Holy crap. Yesterday evening was so jam packed with art I can hardly believe it.
After work was the monthly First Thursday art event in the city where many galleries are open to the public after hours to come see their exhibits for free, without appointment. And the public generally does - in droves. It's quite a scene. Lots of young artistic types, mixed with schmoozy money types go to pretend they know what they're looking at and run into people they know or pick up on someone new. Always a good investment in claustrophobia.
After that, we had some tickets to see Loop!Station at The Independent. The venue regularly has one or more opening acts of varying interestingness, and the headliner rarely comes on before 10. Very often I skip the opener and save my legs for the main event. But sometimes the openers are worth seeing.
Monica said she wanted to check out the first opener, Tim Bluhm, who sang with a group she used to like called the Mother Hips... so we got there early. They had set up jazz club-type tables on the floor that night, and we got one right up front.
Tim Bluhm came out and sat down in a chair with his guitar and set down an extremely engaging set of melodic, patient, deliberate songs that made a new fan out of me instantly. It was one of those rare times when it doesn't feel like a performance, but like sharing. He seemed very appreciative to be there playing songs for us. It made me curious about his past since he seemed like a person who had recently gained some kind of profound perspective. Or maybe he's just like that.
After Tim, some avant guarde film was shown with various random artsy images which I thought was somehow linked to the music set the guest DJ was playing between sets. But then the next band, Broun Fillinis, came out and stood on stage in front of the projection screen. We thought maybe they were annoyed that the film was still playing while they were on stage, but then they started their set, and it became clear that film was part of the show.
These guys' music was the exact opposite of Tim Bluhm. The patient melodies gave way to a new groove. One with greater tempo, and determined ambition in its complexity. The sax player mainly played straight ahead bop freak-out solos while the bass and drummer played hard-driving funk-rock grooves behind him. The interesting thing was that the songs seemed to boil down to a surf rock genre in my mind, which was reinforced by the lighting and projected art film going on during the show. All three musicians were impressively outfitted with chops and onstage effects equipment. I enjoyed the vibe they generated.
By the time Loop!Station came on, it was about midnight and we were pretty tired, but they were worth the wait. I had seen the singer, Robin Coomer, twice before in other groups, and she told me about Loop!Station after one of those performances while I was, no doubt, gushing to her about her singing. This group is difficult to describe. It's one of those things you definitely have to witness in person. But basically, it's her and a great cellist named Sam Bass who have written songs specifically to have their parts digitally sampled while performed live on stage and then played back as background parts later during the same song. So the cello will, at times, have several parts playing at once, maybe some plucked, some bowed, some with distortion effects, etc. The singer will also sample parts and then sing along with them in beautiful, haunting harmony. Combine all of this with the fact they are both easy on the eyes, she has a great stage presence, a great atmosphere and audience, and the film guys from the other group continuing their spooky lighting and images... and it made for a spectacular evening of art.
I really felt that these two were really pushing the boundaries of music right before our eyes. I wondered if we would see more music like this in the future... if all great musicians in the future will be expected to master technology this way in order to gain respect.
Just another day when I felt so happy to be where I was, when I was there.
After work was the monthly First Thursday art event in the city where many galleries are open to the public after hours to come see their exhibits for free, without appointment. And the public generally does - in droves. It's quite a scene. Lots of young artistic types, mixed with schmoozy money types go to pretend they know what they're looking at and run into people they know or pick up on someone new. Always a good investment in claustrophobia.
After that, we had some tickets to see Loop!Station at The Independent. The venue regularly has one or more opening acts of varying interestingness, and the headliner rarely comes on before 10. Very often I skip the opener and save my legs for the main event. But sometimes the openers are worth seeing.
Monica said she wanted to check out the first opener, Tim Bluhm, who sang with a group she used to like called the Mother Hips... so we got there early. They had set up jazz club-type tables on the floor that night, and we got one right up front.
Tim Bluhm came out and sat down in a chair with his guitar and set down an extremely engaging set of melodic, patient, deliberate songs that made a new fan out of me instantly. It was one of those rare times when it doesn't feel like a performance, but like sharing. He seemed very appreciative to be there playing songs for us. It made me curious about his past since he seemed like a person who had recently gained some kind of profound perspective. Or maybe he's just like that.
After Tim, some avant guarde film was shown with various random artsy images which I thought was somehow linked to the music set the guest DJ was playing between sets. But then the next band, Broun Fillinis, came out and stood on stage in front of the projection screen. We thought maybe they were annoyed that the film was still playing while they were on stage, but then they started their set, and it became clear that film was part of the show.
These guys' music was the exact opposite of Tim Bluhm. The patient melodies gave way to a new groove. One with greater tempo, and determined ambition in its complexity. The sax player mainly played straight ahead bop freak-out solos while the bass and drummer played hard-driving funk-rock grooves behind him. The interesting thing was that the songs seemed to boil down to a surf rock genre in my mind, which was reinforced by the lighting and projected art film going on during the show. All three musicians were impressively outfitted with chops and onstage effects equipment. I enjoyed the vibe they generated.
By the time Loop!Station came on, it was about midnight and we were pretty tired, but they were worth the wait. I had seen the singer, Robin Coomer, twice before in other groups, and she told me about Loop!Station after one of those performances while I was, no doubt, gushing to her about her singing. This group is difficult to describe. It's one of those things you definitely have to witness in person. But basically, it's her and a great cellist named Sam Bass who have written songs specifically to have their parts digitally sampled while performed live on stage and then played back as background parts later during the same song. So the cello will, at times, have several parts playing at once, maybe some plucked, some bowed, some with distortion effects, etc. The singer will also sample parts and then sing along with them in beautiful, haunting harmony. Combine all of this with the fact they are both easy on the eyes, she has a great stage presence, a great atmosphere and audience, and the film guys from the other group continuing their spooky lighting and images... and it made for a spectacular evening of art.
I really felt that these two were really pushing the boundaries of music right before our eyes. I wondered if we would see more music like this in the future... if all great musicians in the future will be expected to master technology this way in order to gain respect.
Just another day when I felt so happy to be where I was, when I was there.
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