b e e f e n c h i l a d a d o t c o m

Damn if that wasn't a rockin' good hockey game. Team USA oughtta be proud of themselves. I'm proud of them.

Yesterday, The Boy and I went snowshoeing on the Robber's Roost trail at Mt. Charleston. It was a guided park service deal. Nice little walk, not too difficult, gorgeous views. I left my camera in the car, like an idiot. It's a shame, because there were some great views. Even worse, it turned out in the end that I had my camera on me the whole time...like an even bigger idiot. I didn't notice because my pocket was full of rope. The Boy doesn't have a pivoting binding on his snowshoes, so couldn't dig in on the steep parts. This left him stranded, so I had to rappel him up a short section of trail.

Anyhow, here is the view of the road, after the hiking was over and I found my damned camera.



It was nice to get out with the boy and some friends (Thanks to Steve T & Co. for giving us the heads-up on this event). It was also nice to actually use my shoes, after having paid $ to drag them to Wisconsin the weekend prior without ever pulling them out of the bag.

The rest of the weekend was the aforementioned hockey, making dinner for a visiting cousin-in-law from Chile and lots and lots and lots of document review...which still beats 8.8 earthquakes by a miles-wide margin. Ugh.

Those of you not from here might be unfamiliar with our Governor, Jim Gibbons. I usually avoid ranting about political issues here, and will continue to do so. Instead, I am going to point and laugh at retards.

To wit: when you come back from an out-of-town business trip with the chick you've been seeing behind your (now very recently ex-) wife's back and want to keep it on the DL, you might want to do a couple of things:

1. If your ex and the press both hate you, figure there's a chance someone might tip someone off to the fact you're going to be on flight x and y time with z skank.

2. Having made the analysis described supra, maybe you and your squeeze should take different flights home.

3. If you fail with respect to items 1 and 2, do not tell the reporters she is not on the plane when they can see her.

4. If you are still insisting she is not with you, don't let her climb in your car after spending .93 second trying to disguise herself.

You can find all the awesomeness by clicking here.

Ah....Nevada.

So I landed in Duluth last Friday at noon. Met a friend for lunch. Had the best cocktail ever:


What's in there? Vodka, Malibu, crushed ginger, lemongrass, diced thai chile, soda. Ungodly good. I did some wandering, treated myself to a fine new briefcase from Duluth Pack Co., took a nap and then headed back downtown for Indian food with J-Fro, Liz and Jeff. A brief stop to look at the curlers



and it was time for the WILCO concert.



They did not suck. They utterly failed to suck. Late night drinks at a redneck bar with a hair metal cover band, crash out, breakfast, music shopping and then off to Ashland to register.

As was the case in 2008, we headed form Washburn to Ashland via shuttle and then hooked up with friends to leave early and walk. Unlike last time, we actually stuck to the course. Thanks to GPS and Google Earth, here it is (pretend the blue stuff is white):


It was surprisingly warm and the sunset over the ice was the stuff of Jebusy pamphlet covers.



The big orange thing in the above photo is a buoy. Frozen in the ice. The walk was lovely, the course was seven miles, and if I told you there was no Barenjager on the Ice this year, I might be lying.



Late night hanging out at Stagenorth after the tent. Sunday was spent putting in an hour or two helping disassemble the monstrous tents that held the finish-line party the night before, visiting some other folks, then watching Team USA stomping the frostbacks in Olympic History. Weekends seriously don't get much better.

I hauled my snowshoes all the way to WI and wound up not wearing them because conditions made boots + gaiters a fine choice. But...it looks like the Boy and I will actually be snowshoeing on Charleston this weekend with some other folks. No Barenjager this time. Alas.

It occurred to me tonight that of the perhaps four people who read this site, two probably don't know to where I slink off every winter (as opportunity allows), other than "somewhere way the hell north so you can freeze in Wisconsin or Canada or somewhere, which seems to make you slightly less of an evil-tempered asshole when you come back." Therefore, my friend the internet and I have made this brief pictorial.


Fig 1: This is, obviously, a map of Minnesota, Wisconsin and part of surrounding upper Midwest states. Pay attention to the parts along Lake Superior (that's the lake at top, you stupid American).



Fig 2: Zooming in on the lake. The Duluth-Superior area surrounds the tip of the finger-like protrusion of the lake pointing to the lower left corner of the photo. Duluth is the Atlantic Ocean's westernmost deepwater port. Seriously- ships can travel from Duluth to the Atlantic Ocean via the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence river. See the island-surrounded peninsula sticking up into the lake east thereof? That (and the bay at its southeastern edge) is where I head.



Fig 3: This is a closer-up view of the Bayfield Peninsula. The area depicted in this map is one of my favorite places in the world. The bay to the southeast of the peninsula is Chequamegon Bay (that would be pronounced something like "shuh-WAMMA-gun"). There's a town of about 8000 or so folks there called Ashland. I lived and went to school there from 1991-1996.



Fig 4: This is a close-up showing Ashland and the nearest town, Washburn. My good buddy J-Fro lives in Washburn. There's another town called Bayfield further north along the peninsula. It's very pretty and I would like to live there someday. My pals Liz and Jeff live there. I have numeorus other pals, well-wishers and acquaintances who live in the area. Some of them are folks I never particularly even liked when I live up there, but am still glad to see and chat with when I bump into them. And I always do bump into folks I know up there. Sometimes in bars. Occasionally in restaurants. Often just on the street. Even, once in a while, we will pass each other driving on an otherwise deserted country road, recognize each other at a glance after 10-15 years, pull over and talk. I think it's pretty cool. I almost never bump into people I know in Vegas, unless I am at court, in a deposition, etc.



Fig 5: This is the part of the bay I will be snowshoeing/hiking/stumbling drunkenly across. The Book Across the Bay official route sort of follows the coastline, starting in Ashland and ending in Washburn. We'll probably do something different. I will add GPS track overlay to a cop of this picture after the race.


Current Temperature 89120: 57 F.
Current Temperature 54806: 30 F.

is really all about the black perigord truffle sauce.

It's about six bucks for what I am guessing is 20-25 mL. So worth it.

Don't screw with the cheese - get the small ranch beef burger (between Angus and American Kobe on the menu). Slice of proscuiutto and some grilled asparagus for nice texture contrast. Medium rare. Drizzle truffle sauce. Yowza.


I suggest the Old Rasputin stout as a nice complement.

Plus, the Fat Tuesday's stand next door sells frozen froo-froo drinks that'll kick yer ass. Go with the Hurricane or the 190. Whee!

Not a bad Valentine's Day date.

Was when I was asked if I'd like to accompany a coworker to a birkam yoga class. Close your eyes and visualize it. Ha - now it's stuck in your head!

In other news, it looks like the aforementioned northwardness now includes an overnight in Duluth - my pals are planning on hitting a Wilco show and I said I'd come along. Of course, I arrive at noon and they arrive at 7 or so from Washburn and Bayfield. I was going to look some acquaintances up, but I can instead grab a meal, grab a beer and get a nap in before they arrive. I could also bring my laptop and get some work done...or not.

Here is a map I found that someone put together showing (in purple) the road route from Ashland to Washburn and (in red) the route across the ice for the 2008 Book Across the Bay.



If I remember to turn my GPS on, I'll try to put work the data points into a map of whatever goofy-ass path we take to wander across on the 20th.

But I expect to be on the ice in 19 days and 43 minutes.