Box Canyon? More like Trail of Tears.

As summer comes to a final and complete stop, so do my crazy adventures.
And to be honest, this is an adventure I should have opted out of.
Before I left my brand-spanking-new dorm room (I moved in!) I felt I should stay. There are a slew of bonding activities here in Taylor Place, and I want to get to know the kids in my hall. But the draw of nature, and the hope of a beautiful weekend awaited me. So I ignored that little voice in my head and just went on the trip anyway.
Big mistake.
Anyway. The plan was to leave at 10 am on Saturday morning. I, Andie and Natalie were coming from Phoenix, while Ben, Jon, and Ben's friends David and Austin were coming from Pinetop/Lakeside. Thankfully, our meeting point was halfway between us.
After telling Ben we were leaving at 10, he said that was a little too late. So, after waking up early to the sun shining through my window (I need to either buy curtains or just get used to this) and reading Ben's "If you can, leave earlier" text, I decided "Hm, let's leave earlier."
So around 8:30, I went to pick up Andie and Natalie, grab a few groceries, and grab my backpack from my house.
Two hours later, we finally left Sprout's and then my house, and left Phoenix.
Which I am okay with. (Minus the fact that my nearly only pet peeve is not leaving on time for vacation. I don't care if I'm running late to anything else, but I better be darn on time to leave for vacation.) The boys slept in and were running later than they expected, and we tried to run early at least, but it just didn't work. We ended up arriving at the Box Canyon Trailhead at the exact same time, nearly.
Introductions were made between all of us and David and Austin.
Cars were locked, Camelbaks were taken without cell phones for fear of water damage, and for the same reason, my camera was left in my car as well.
And this is where this turns from a travel post into a whining post. I apologize.
The trek started out climbing up an embankment on the other side of Highway 260, and finding ourselves in a thicket of mud and plants and stuff. The plants were everywhere and they were scratchy. Not fun.
So we get through that, I'm just a little miffed and frustrated because of the early morning events (aka, running late.) So I'm walking and talking with Natalie in the back of the group, Andie is in front of me. She looks back and says "Watch out, there's a wasp near by."
I think, "Okay, I'll just walk by, not bother it. I'll be good."
I walk by.
I'm not good.
I feel a stinging sensation on my back and wonder what it is, then realize. And the stinging turns into a searing. And then my arm starts hurting. And then I freak out and after enough angered dancing and screaming, it flies away and I am in tears. I want to go back to the car, but I can see all the beautiful rocks and trees and the river at the bottom of Box Canyon and decide to press on.
In tears.
Soon I realize this isn't just a hike, it is a full body rock-scaling adventure. And after I have scaled my fair share of rocks, all while trying to avoid all the wasps (read: hornets), I come upon a conundrum.
To get down to the next pool, I either had to jump down an 8-10 foot rock face, or jump off a 15-20 foot waterfall. To which I said "Nope. NopeNopenopenope. I'm done." and sat down in frustration.
On a cactus.
I sat on a FLIPPING CACTUS.
And then I stood up and yelled, "Andie COME GET THIS CACTUS OFF MY BUTT!!!"
Break from complaining: I probably would have died from a panic attack in this canyon if it weren't for Andie Miller. I am so thankful for this woman. Now, back to complaining.
So I'm standing there, crying, still and again, she comes over and takes all the stickers out, and we decide "You know what, nope. We're not continuing on. Let's just hang out here at this nice pool of water (where there are more wasps and one almost lands on me. My life.)
This is the part where the weekend gets a little bit better. We left the canyon and I didn't get stung by any more wasps. We got to the camp ground and took turns taking part in setting up the 8 person tent for the 7 of us, right before it began to rain.
It rained as it turned from day to night.

We sat in the tent and played guitar.
After it stopped raining, we made soup.
Pretty much your basic camping trip.
We went to bed, slightly squished close together even though it was an 8 person tent and there were 7 of us.
We woke up, played more music, played with bb guns and hatchets and stuff, and left.
Andie, who injured her knee, and I went into Payson while Natalie, Ben, Austin and David went to hike Box Canyon again.
We got back together around four, picked up Natalie, and said goodbye to the boys as they went back to Pinetop and as we returned to Phoenix.

To end this post on a positive note, here are 5 things I did that I enjoyed.

1. I waded through an incredibly beautiful stream at the bottom of Box Canyon. That was fun.
2. Scaling rocks is fun, just not when you've been stung by a wasp. But scaling rocks was definitely fun.
3. I got to play guitar while Andie played banjo.
4. I shot a can off a tree right after Austin placed it there. I wasn't even really aiming my BB gun well, either.
5. I got a fairly good night of sleep and didn't freeze to death.

Viva Naturaleza

Second Annual California Birthday Shenanigans

August 5, 2012

I did not make a post for the California adventure I shared with my best friend/nearly sister Hannah last year, so here is a photograph instead. 
The premise of last year's trip (and this year's as well) was to get together and go to Disneyland, a place we both hold near and dear in our hearts, to celebrate our birthdays and summertime.
Last year was stellar. We dressed in coordinated "Phelps" and "Lochte" tank tops (it was during the Olympics) and visited both Disneyland and California Adventures, as well as visiting the beach one day.
This year, the same premise was present. We set out early Thursday morning for California, only instead of staying in a somewhat shady hotel, we were set to stay in Tustin with the family of Hannah's friend, Nathan, who I had met once and who she had spent all of spring break with.
Around Blythe, we realized we were running much earlier than we had told Nathan we would arrive. I recalled a few friends of mine had visited the Salton Sea outside of Indio, and remembered a short documentary my future roommate (if I haven't already mentioned it, I'm living at ASU this year) sent me. We elected to take a detour to the Salton Sea. I had hopes of finding Salvation Mountain, Hannah and I both had hopes of finding some abandoned buildings to traipse through. Unfortunately, we only happened upon the actual Salton Sea--dead fish, flies, closed visitor center and all.

I'll spare you the photo of the dead fish.

When we pulled up, I noticed two other girls wearing bathing suits. They were about our age, and I posed the question "Who would want to swim in this?" Hannah replied with "Well, it's a lake. People swim in lakes." By the time we were on the beach trying not to get dead fish bones in our shoes, she understood my question.
Partially amused and partially displeased with the presence of dead fish in varying states of decay, we carefully walked back to the car where we decided to make lunch. It was quite the challenge trying to make sunflower butter and jam sandwiches while shooing flies out the the window at whatever chance we could, but we succeeded. Half an hour after we paid the $5 parking fee, we waved goodbye to the Salton Sea and began our return to the freeway.
We arrived at Nathan's house just in time to unload the car, greet his parents (they were incredibly hospitable!) and hit the road for dinner.
Nathan, his friend Connor, Hannah and I went to a burger restaurant at a predominantly outdoor mall. I'm usually not a fan of red meat, but I got a mushroom burger (with beef--we're not talking portobello mushroom, we're talking little sauteed mushrooms) and it was rather edible. We then spent time getting to know each other better by shopping around Urban Outfitters (the most expensive place in the world to purchase re-purposed, vintage and alternative style clothing), Forever 21 and a regional clothing store I had never heard of before. Soon, the mall began to close and Nathan dropped Hannah and I off at his house so we could go to bed early.
The next morning, Friday, Hannah and I awoke bright and early to leave for Disneyland! We didn't decide if were going to buy park hopper tickets or one day-one park tickets with the birthday money her mother had graciously given us, but by the time we were in line to purchase tickets, we were already yawning (oh, the life of a perpetually exhausted college student) and decided one park for one day was enough.

We had planned ahead and wore shirts that were matching in theme--our two favorite female Disney princess-esque characters! I made a Tinkerbell and an Ariel stencil for each of us, purchased spray paint, and had Hannah buy coordinated shirts, and we made them the night before we left! I'm happy to say we received a few compliments from strangers along with a very enthusiastic "I want your shirts!!!" from a friend of Hannah's on Facebook.
Our day at Disney could have easily ended after 11 am. We were able to ride all the rides we wanted to before then, as we followed the cardinal rule: Indiana Jones is always the first ride you take, after picking up Space Mountain fast passes, of course. And so it began like that. Indiana Jones, Space Mountain, Star Tours, Pirates of the Carribean, the Haunted Mansion, It's a Small World, Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (I now remember why I disliked that ride as a child. It's so sinister!), Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters, the Matterhorn, Splash Mountain, and then a select few all over again.

I took a very swell castle photo, if I do say so myself.

At 3 pm, we found ourselves in Downtown Disney after a Monorail ride (It's my favorite), eating ice cream and sorbet, shopping for dresses/swim suits, and realizing that we're nearly too old to open and close the park, and so we decided we'd duck back into Disneyland, hit up Tom Sawyer's Island, the Golden Horseshoe dinner show, maybe ride some canoes, and head home. We felt no need to watch the firework show as it is nearly the same every time, and we've probably seen it at least five times. We ended up leaving at around seven, tired as all possibility, and returned to our welcoming home base in Tustin at around eight after stopping at Target to purchase beach necessities.
As we pulled up to the house, we saw Nathan was leaving, and he invited us along to join him and Connor in whatever they decided to do. Hannah opted for calling her boyfriend and going to bed, while I decided to live by one of my three mottoes (in this case, carpe noctem) and tagged along to Connor's house, where we ultimately decided against going to the OC Fair and decided to go get 24-hour donuts and watch Clue on Netflix. One thing is for sure--if I ever find red velvet donuts anywhere else, I doubt they'll be as good as the one I had that night.
Hannah's alarm went off at 8 am the next morning, Saturday.

Loofah + Soap

We had two tickets for the filming of
Let's Make A Deal, and we had costumes planned: I was to be a loofah, Hannah was to be a bar of soap. Unfortunately, we snoozed the alarm. Then we slacked at putting together our costumes (ten yards of tulle is not enough to make me comfortable with the possibility of going on stage in what was essentially a ballerina costume from the depths of Hades.) Finally, we decided lounging around for the morning was a much more palatable idea than driving to LA for the possibly-guaranteed chance of getting into a studio for a filming of a television show.
We joined Nathan's parents for breakfast and spent two hours discussing what to do in the Tustin/Irvine area, where to eat, what our areas of study are. I tend to lean more toward being a social creature, and sitting and talking for a few hours was definitely much more enjoyable to me than driving to LA for a game show filming, at least after a nearly full day at Disneyland.
Around lunch time, we ventured to a local mall where we ate Pei Wei and shopped for hours at TJ Max. I found a pair of Birkenstock-style shoes, a phone charger, and a pair of yoga pants, which are all items I've been searching for the past few weeks. Hannah snagged a cute black blouse, and then we headed back to Tustin to prep for the Americanarama Music Festival which was that night.
After a much needed shower, I put on my edgy purple jersey dress, packed up a slice of the delicious gluten free cake Nathan's mom made us to bring to the show (featuring Ryan Bingham, My Morning Jacket, Wilco and Bob Dylan!) and left the house just a smidge too late.
When Hannah and I arrived at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Irvine (it felt so strange going to a concert at a venue I wasn't familiar with) Ryan Bingham had already began playing, at the exact start time. We rushed up the hill to the top grassy knoll where we had purchased tickets for, and we laid down our picnic blanket and began enjoying the music.
Before long, it was extremely apparent that someone (or perhaps a few groups of people around us) were smoking both pot and cigarettes, and we were slightly annoyed. In fact, my sinuses are still very upset from all the secondhand smoke. But that didn't get in the way of me enjoying  My Morning Jacket's performance, and Hannah enjoying  Wilco's performance!

Our view wasn't the best, but the sound carried well.

By the time Bob Dylan took the stage it was nearly 10 pm. We had already been there for four hours and we were cold and tired. I had thoroughly enjoyed My Morning Jacket's performance, Hannah had enjoyed Wilco's performance, and we had been forewarned that Bob Dylan is definitely not as good as he once was.
I don't want to sound too critical, but everyone who told me that I would be disappointed was right. It's great that I can now say I've seen Bob Dylan live in concert, but I definitely enjoyed My Morning Jacket's performance the most. Dylan was slightly pathetic as he tried his hardest to soulfully sing songs from his new album, but instead of looking stricken by passion exuding forth from his music, he looked woefully out of breath as he leaned on the drum stand, shrunken toward the mid-rear of the stage. Once I found someone who leaked the set list on Instagram, and when I saw that all the music was from his newer albums, Hannah and I agreed it was time to leave (seven songs into the eleven song set list). All hope was lost for me to hear him perform The Times They Are A-Changin' live. We headed back to the car where we rolled down the windows, turned on the air, ate cake, and enjoyed the sound of Bob Dylan fading in the distance.
By the time we returned home it was 11 pm, the perfect time to travel to the Top of the World--a short drive, hop, skip, jump and hill away from Nathan's house, where you can enjoy the city lights. I came to the realization that nearly all cities look the same at night. The view from the Top of the World was strangely akin to the view from the top of my favorite peak at Dreamy Draw, with two parallel roads distinctly highlighted against neighborhoods.
 When we returned home, I had a new rush of energy, or simply a lack of desire to go to sleep. My former plans to go to bed and get a good night's rest changed into staying up until 3:30 am watching New Girl on Netflix while bantering on about school and how painful it is to see people strive to be hipsters all while trying not to wake Hannah up, as she was sleeping on the other side of the wall that was shared with the television room.
I slept in much later Sunday than I had in a long time. I woke up at 10:45 convinced it was only around 8 am. I soon woke Hannah up, as we had planned to leave for the beach at or before noon. We ate breakfast, packed a cooler, and headed out with Nathan, who directed us to Huntington Beach.

August 5, 2013

Oh, how I missed the beach. I always forget how much I love it until I return. It had been a full year since the last time I had been at the beach, and I missed it so much. We even found the perfect metered parking spot alongside the road.
We sunscreened up, lied down, chatted, snoozed, read books (or tried to at least) and eventually ran into the ocean. I was slightly braver than usual when it came to entering the water--neither Hannah nor Nathan had to use force to get me in deeper than my knees. However, when I mentioned I was returning to dry, safe land, I was met with a small amount of opposition, but nothing so strong that a little cold water splash didn't move.
We spent the remainder of our beach time playing frisbee, talking and walking down to the pier. Before we left, we dug into the other half (!) of the gluten free chocolate cake from Nathan's mom. Mmmm. There's nothing like sweets on the beach.

The US Bank tower is my favorite skyline icon.

Upon returning home, we showered off, packed up, thanked our wonderful hosts and headed up to North Los Angeles to visit my friend from ASU, Mitch. The drive was gorgeous, and we passed LA just as the sun was setting. Hannah was able to capture a few fairly decent photos of the LA skyline on my dinky little 7-year-old point and shoot camera. Los Angeles is my favorite large city in the western United States, and whenever I get the chance to drive in/through/by, I make sure to have a camera ready in my car.
We arrived at Mitch's parent's house, which was set back a ways and tucked in a few mountains. It was a challenge driving my car up his windy driveway, and I gave him my keys and asked him to get it back down the driveway when we soon left to get Hannah dinner.
When we returned home from our In-n-Out dinner run, our first request was that he give us a tour. He showed us the fireplace room, the old Macintosh computer, and his parent's balcony.
Oh yes, and then we got locked on his parent's balcony.
It was honestly entirely my fault, but at the same time, I am still flabbergasted that anyone would ever create a doorknob that would allow a door to be opened from the inside while still being locked from the outside. In all reality, that is only asking for trouble.

So happy to be stranded on a roof.

So Hannah and Mitch were forced to bond over the two hours we were stuck on the second story balcony and roof of his house in rural California.
We soon began testing our options of escape. We could jump from the second story roof to the first story roof and then to the garage roof, but it looked a wee bit too steep. Option number two was to phone the neighbors and have them break down the door, but they refused to do so. Option number three resulted in Mitch's friend coming and entering the house through an open window near the kitchen, then coming and liberating us from our six foot by 10 foot prison raised 30 feet off the ground.
We thanked his friend profusely, then set off to buy more food to replace the room-temperature In-n-Out Burger that had been locked inside the house for two hours while we had been locked out.
When we returned back, we stayed rather stationary in the family room with the television and junk food. We caught up on life's little nuances, gawked over the fact that we had just been locked on a balcony for two hours, and decided to go to bed at 2 am. Never before have I slept so well in someone else's house. It just felt good to be inside a building.
The following morning, Monday, we woke up at 8, dressed quickly, and went into Santa Clarita for breakfast. Mitch guided us to a restaurant called the Egg Plantation, which boasts 101 different omelettes. I was slightly overwhelmed by the menu, so I ordered a simple sandwich, which was listed as an employee favorite--egg whites on wheat toast with tomatoes, spinach and avocado. It was a delicious start to the day.

I'd be content working as a food photographer.

We then were guided to Starbucks, where I got a tall, iced, soy, dirty chai latte with one shot of espresso. It was nowhere near as good as Jobot or Songbird's chai latte, but in a tired pinch, it worked out alright. Hannah and I then said our goodbyes to Mitch, who I'll be seeing again in a short 10 days when I move into my dorm and he moves into his apartment.
The drive back was rather uneventful. We took the 210 to the 57 to the 10, which is a freeway interchange I shall never forget. It's the one Becca and I used to get from Phoenix to Oregon while avoiding LA, and the phrase "take the 10 to the 57 to the 210" may as well be burned in my brain because we repeated it so much as we prepared for that trip last summer.
Alas, I digress. We made it back in one piece, with my car in one piece, and with an overall sense of peace now that summer is nearly over. I still have an entire bag of laundry to do and a few hours of sleep to catch up on. Maybe I'll actually be amicably awake for work tomorrow today!