Dayshots: Catalina Island Aquaponics and Poppies

I spent a couple of days at the Wrigley Institute for Environmental Studies in March. On this visit, I got to check out the new(-ish) aquaponics system in the greenhouse. 

These goldfish shall be switched out for tilapia at some point.



We ate that head of lettuce for dinner. It was glorious. 

Such pretty roots.

The sun was strong in the green house. 

Rainwater catchment and filtration system. 

I took a stroll in the hills surrounding campus and noticed island poppies for the first time.

They were a pleasure to see after a disappointing bloom at the Antelope Valley Poppy Preserve.

Didn't get in the water very much on this trip, but did walk down the ramp for a quick dip before getting on the boat back to the mainland. I dream of a writing residency on the island someday.

Dayshot: Climbing in Donner Pass

My most recent climbing milestone: Leading Composure the Snowshed Wall back in June.  My second trad lead this year. 

Making the last moves to the anchors.

There's probably only so many more times I should climb on other people's gear without having even a nut to offer, so I'm slowly saving up for my own rack. I still need a lot more mentorship/training in building trad anchors, which I really should have learned to do long before leading my first pitch. I'm spoiled. 

Donner Pass was a super fun place to climb. The granite was delicious, and I got a taste of Grouse Slabs bouldering, which only made me yearn for Bishop. There's an itch in my legs to run off to the Eastern Sierra that I'm staving off. I'm working regularly again, paying off various wandertime debts, making rent each month, and putting a little bit away for the next extended wander/climb trip. In the meantime, Oakland is proving to be a good place to sit, stretch, grow. 

Dayshot: Creatures in South Berkeley

I wonder whether both are feral. Coming from Los Angeles, biking is a significant change of pace, a way of moving more slowly, being able to stop and pay attention. And now, with things even closer together, I realize that there are things that I miss while biking, too. Walking is the next change of pace, the next slowing down. 

I took a long walk with my housemate and his pup last week and came upon these two creatures:

Cat napping in front of what could be some kind of auto-cat.

I am greedy for time, greedy to feel that I have it in abundance. Slowing down is a way of laying claim to my time and feeling like a human being, not only a human doing. Not everything needs to be done as fast as possible. 

Unless, as in this case, you have a jar of gelato melting in your backpack and so you forgo the urge to pet the auto-creature and cat and settle instead for a quick snapshot.

The Ho Chi Minh City Excursion // Dayshots

The week before Tet, I went to Ho Chi Minh City. I went mostly to see my friend David, but also to spend some time by myself, without family nearby for the first time in weeks and weeks. 

I rode the Mekong Express bus to get there. Hopped out as we crossed the Mekong River.

The Mekong.

I wonder what the river will be like after the mega-dam is built.

We had a dusty stop just before crossing the border on National Road 1.

Exchanged USD into VND and became a millionaire.

Most countries' money is prettier than the USD.

Com tam is my favorite.

David had a snazzy, fixed up Honda Super Cub. Saigon is lovely to ride around in at night. Unlike in Cambodia where only the driver has to wear a helmet, passengers also have to wear them in Vietnam. You can see both helmets dangling at David's knee.

I splurged and stayed at Song Anh Hotel, right in downtown. Traveling alone, and feeling very soft from so long in the cozy embrace of my family, I decided to forgo the backpacker area.

The hotel employees thought I was weird for taking stairs instead of the elevator to my 5th floor room.

Saw this on my last day. But heard it over and over again throughout my trip.

Mostly, I roamed around the city on foot, drinking papaya smoothies, munching on street snacks, and sitting in the shade in the many lovely parks in the city. The French colonial influence is much more apparent in HCMC than in Phnom Penh. I felt like I was in the Paris of Southeast Asia.

General Post Office designed by Gustave Eiffel.

It was so different than being in Phnom Penh; though traffic was still quite congested, the streets were not as dusty, and I wasn't worried about hygiene at the streetside food stands. Though, I was not so concerned in Phnom Penh, either. Within month two of my stay, I was drinking the tap water at my aunt's house and having ice in beverages with abandon. I figured I'd acclimated enough at that point, and I was tired of boiling the water; I figured most of the harm would come from chemicals moreso than bacteria, and boiling would just concentrate them. That logic might be flawed. Another part of it was being tired of the stream of plastic water bottles that kept coming my way. And whether it makes sense or not, it made me feel closer to Cambodia to drink the water. There are people drinking out of muddy streams and wells with arsenic in the water. I figured I could handle the municipal tap. And I'm okay (not that I'm recommending others to so). 

One of my favorite parts of the trip was sitting by the Saigon River sipping coffee with David on my second night. We talked about Los Angeles, and what it's like to move from one town to another, and how Southeast Asia is quickly adopting the hurried pace of Western civilization. It seems that people don't really make time for one another-- spending time together is just a part of life. But now there are gated communities popping up, and the nuclear-family-based culture is increasingly taking hold, and I think about how lucky I was to grow up in a multi-generational home, without any distinction between "family" and "extended family."

I'm rambling. I'm sitting in a cafe in Little Saigon. It feels good to be home. So many things to do. So many places still to go. I have a loose timeline. I have a little cash. I have a lot of loved ones. I feel lucky.

Dispatch from Cambodia, 5 // Olympic Stadium

My aunt speaks wistfully of the days when Olympic Stadium was surrounding by a vast field of grass, and the insides were shining and new, ten years before the Khmer Rouge took over the country. 

Phnom Penh is crowded, dusty, and traffic is chaotic, so it's been hard to muster motivation to explore. I'm not sure whether I would have visited this architectural must-see had I not been searching the internet for rock climbing in Cambodia and heard that a small bouldering wall had been installed here.

It's free to enter on foot, 1000 riel (about 25 cents) to enter with a car or motorbike. 

I spied the bouldering wall right as I walked to the stadium.

People walk or run round and round the field, up and down the stands, and inside.

People play soccer on the pavement outside the field; I suppose the grassy field inside is reserved for official games.

Inside.

Along the upper walkway, various groups hold aerobics/dance sessions in the evening.

The wall gets a good breeze in January.

Trying out the holds.

Sunset atop the Stadium.

Be sure to pick up this carb-tastic sticky-rice/crepe/coconut dessert on your way out.

Dayshots: Indoor Bouldering in Orange County

Louie Anderson has developed sport climbing all over Southern California, including Malibu Creek State Park and Riverside Quarry (these plus New Jack City are where I've done most of my climbing), has published guidebooks for the area, and as of earlier this year, opened a new climbing gym in Orange County called The Factory:

After doing a little Google-ing, it appears that Louie Anderson has been involved with developing the Hangar 18 climbing gyms and actually painted the boulder formations at then-Beach City Rocks, now Hangar 18 South Bay in Hawthorne. I found this post showing familiar walls when they were freshly painted and with no routes. Since I started learning more about climbing and the climbing community, I've come to really appreciate how intimately connected it is, from gyms to outdoor crags, and how much history there is.

On July 16th, I decided to take advantage of The Factory's Ladies Night promotion for a $7 day pass-- in the morning. (I went to see my family afterward to make the most of the drive to Orange County.)

I was the first person there, and waited for a bit as Valarie (co-owner/manager of The Factory, and the climber on the cover of the newest Riverside Quarry guidebook) got the computer up and running.

Valarie behind the counter and the succulent garden.

I get a good feeling about places that have succulents. A customer brought in this little garden for them.

I gave the chips in their snack selection a bit of the side-eye.

It was lovely having the entire gym all to myself for the first half-hour or so. So quiet and peaceful. I got to choose the artist for the Pandora station (I chose Ratatat). People slowly trickled in as the day got later.

The cave. Oh, caves.

Lounging area.

After having climbed on so many routes developed by Louie Anderson outdoors, it was fun climbing on the routes he set in the gym and feeling some echoes. Maybe it was just all the mantling, which climbing at Riverside Quarry involves much of.

Slab zone.

From the top of the slab.

The colors on the walls makes such a big difference in the climbing experience.

Community board. Desserts!!

The Factory's next Ladies' Night is on Monday, September 17th. If I somehow find myself in Orange County again that day, I'm definitely going to make another visit. In the morning, of course.

Dayshot: Green Line Harbor Transitway Station

It's been a very busy spring, hanging in there through these last weeks of Public Allies, going to meetings after work, and trying to make it to some Tuesday Night Cafes. I am always so happy to get to pass these tracks under the 105 while it's still daylight. 

Thankfully, it's a lovely downhill ride from here, down Figueroa to 135th. I wonder what trains these tracks are/were for, and whether they still run.

Dayshots: Catalina Island Non-Natives

I got to spend some time at the USC Wrigley Institute on Catalina Island last summer, and I saw these lovely and very large bison roaming about near the campus. 

I called him Grandpa Bison. He seemed grandfatherly.

I thought of these two as whippersnappers.

Apparently, the bison liked to wander onto the campus and roll around in the sandy volleyball courts from time to time. If you happen to land on the island, try the buffalo milk, at least once.

Dayshots: Stoney Point

Visited Stoney Point for my first time bouldering outdoors on Sunday. My fingers felt tenderized embarrassingly quickly on the sandstone. I'm looking forward to my next visit, though.

Lizard getting some sun. Who painted the patio?

My climbing partner and I marveled at how quiet the park was, and then I realized that we got there during the hottest part of the day. By the time we left, there were two dozen more people around. 

Would love to finish this traverse someday

While I enjoyed the simplicity of bouldering, I'll reserve it for days when I don't have much time. I prefer dangling in the air more than sitting on a crash pad while frustrated about not doing a move. I like heights.

Dayshots: From J-Town to Gardena // Biking

It's only about 13 miles from Little Tokyo to Gardena, so a few weeks ago, I decided to bike home from East West Players. 

Once upon a time, I saw a cool building and thought that something cool was going to come of it. I was wrong. Three years later, the building is gone. Completely gone.

 A few blocks down, I saw Ghandi.

 Los Angeles needs more pocket parks. This one on South Broadway is not as nice as the little park on Venice & Hope, but it reminded me of the park in Paris where I sat to eat a delicious falafel pita.

I stopped here to drank some water. It was a hot, hot day. Chatted for a minute with a woman about what tough times these are, then got on my way again. 

There is still so much to see and learn of Los Angeles, even after four years.