Unemployment December in the Bay Area, Part 1 of 2

When we flew back into Oakland from the east coast, we shifted into in-town vacation mode. We had considered traveling some more with our free time, but the traveling we did left us exhausted. Plus, living here still feels like vacation sometimes. We live in a place that tourists flock to from all over the world, and we have barely put a dent into what the area has to offer to fill our free time.

We missed Apollo while we were gone, and based on the flipping out he did when we picked him up, he missed us even more. We promised him that we would spend some quality time together the rest of the month. We went on a hike everyday through Christmas to New Year's. The first full day we were back to Oakland, we drove up and took a stroll at Point Pinole.

The park sits at a point on the coast and acts as an elbow connecting the San Fransisco Bay to the San Pablo Bay. The hike there provides panoramic views stretching over both bodies of water. It was chilly that day, but California sunny, and we felt as though we had the whole park to ourselves. The setting put us in a peaceful mood, which was a fortunate state to be in as we tackled San Fransisco rush-hour traffic back to Oakland.

On two other days of our first week, we drove up to Tilden Park in Berkeley. Tilden is loaded with off-leash trails. This park gives a taste of what I love about winter here.

Growing up on the East coast made me associate Winter with death. Fall elicits glorious colored leaves on the trees, but when Winter creeps in, everything withers and falls to the ground. Snow is a consolation prize that stops by a couple times during the cold months, covering up nature's compost. Even that beauty runs its course, ending with icy, sandy-brown plow debris left on the side of the road. In Northern California, Winter brings life. Around October, rain appears for the first time since April. The sun-scorched hills that bake day after day in the summer, turn to rich shades of green throughout the rain season. Grass begins to peek up through the gaps in the concrete that criss cross the sidewalks. I took the picture below back in November because it illustrates what I am talking about:

In Tilden, this effect is magnified enormously. The air up there is heavy with moisture during this time of year; if rain does not actually fall from the sky, the fog will undoubtedly pass through every day. The effect leaves everything laden in chlorophyll and photosynthesis abounds.

Part of what makes the forest in places like Tilden seem so thick are trees like the one below. Large branches lay heavily on the ground and spawn smaller branches, like little trees. I had never seen anything like this before hiking in CA:

Our first hike in Tilden skirted the edge of a cliff that drops down into a valley. We took some pictures looking down from the edge:

The hike we took later in the week brought us to the trail at the base of that valley. When we looked up we could recognize the point (behind the metal railings) where we had taken the pictures looking down.

The second day of our hike took us through some very muddy trails to the pay off, Lake Anza.

On the 21st, we decided to venture out a little farther away, up into the North Bay. We found a hike in our Best Hikes With Dogs book called Blithedale Ridge near Mill Valley. To get there, we took an incredibly narrow, winding road out of Mill Valley into the forest. Houses sit up on the banks of this road, camouflaged by the foliage. The way the real estate goes out here, these houses must be at least million-dollar homes, yet they attract only a certain type of homeowner. There is an aspect of "roughing it" involved in this setting. From the looks of things, most, if not all, of the parking is on the side of the road, and the doors to access the house are up a couple flights of wet, wooden stairs.

And if the houses in the neighborhood were not enough to convince us that this is the turf of the upper crust, that point was driven home as we took note of the cars parked around us. Lexuses, BMWs, Jags...the people here seem to want to 'get back to nature' on some level, but keeping their image in tact all the while. Something about it seems ironic to me.

I will let some images from our hike up the fire road and into the trails speak for themselves:

When we got home from our excursion in the North Bay, we made some dinner and put on The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Ordinarily I wouldn't chose a western, but we considered this homework, of sorts. We needed to get into character for the following day...

Little boys in California learn about the Wild West when they are growing up and dream of cowboy birthdays into adulthood. Tim is case in point On the upside of waiting for your dream party is at a certain age you have unmitigated access to power tools and shot guns. Tim and his friend Spencer spent what I imagine to be many evenings plotting, posing, and cutting out a targets for a genuine (gen-u-wine) shooting gallery.

Everybody interested in shooting brought a bunch of these:


And when people could actually shot a target (not me) they often aimed at these:

This is Lauren (who is married to Tim) shooting with her dad.

Having missed Halloween celebrations this year, Andy and I got into building costumes for this event. Frankly, I'm proud of how they came out...

Apollo got a little dressed up, too.

I took a bunch of pictures at the party of various people and things. This is a sample of them in small sizes. For more, go to their Flickr Set. But here's one more good one, in a big size...

This is me, Andy, Lauren and Tim with Tim's famous cake. He invented it, but his mom made this particular one. It's not nearly as bad as his parents forewarned it to be. In fact, I might have liked it if I weren't so stuffed with spaghetti already. If you're intrigued, I'm sure Tim will bake one for you. But don't ask him to share his secrets.

For now, I'll leave you with one more picture...

It's not even that this picture is good. It's a mediocre shot of the sun setting over the Port of Oakland. Quality is not the point; what it reminds me of, is. I took from the passenger-side window on our drive home from on Christmas Eve. The holiday time of year did put us in touch with how far away we are from our families. We live out here now, together, in California. Some weeks are tough, and some days are even sad because it isn't always that easy. But, when I stop to think about it, I remember that we are living our dream (in many more ways than just California), and it's great. I love my life.