113 in a 65

We leave work and I race for the San Bernardino Mountains. This time, I take 215 North, heading, loosely, for Bastow. The furthest I would go is to Arrowhead, but we all left work late at something crazy like 6:30 or so.

And now, I see where Highway 60 peels off east and I go that way. I want to drive up to the big letter M that sits on the hills above the Moreno Valley. But the GPS doesn't look the way that Google Earth looks. I can't really sus it out, and I end up at Box Springs Park. At this point, the road ends at a parking lot and some trails here for tree-huggers with signs warning of Mountain Lions. But all I hear is a cacophony of coyotes.

I can't get up to the 'M' this way...not without running down a bunch of hikers, so I turn and head back down the hill.

I'm not really sure where to go now. I'd like to go to Arrowhead, but the sun is so low on the horizon. Summer is fading fast as I roll back down the hill from Box Springs.

Now, heading north on 215, I set my GPS for Barstow, California. Never been there. Only I know of it because of Hunter S. Thompson's classic. But I'm heading north, and the hills don't seem to be getting any closer. Daylight is fading fast and I'm losing my thirst for this journey.

It's very nearly dark when I turn around and head back south on I-15. Some guy comes by me on a crotch rocket in the HIV lane and I think....sure...why not. Let's go. The speed limit is 65 and I'm going 113.

I'm lane-splitting and but I can't keep up with him. I let him get away, and head back to the Motel 6 in Riverside. They put me in 112. The guy in 109 is missing a leg. 2 cops are pulling someone out of 113 in handcuffs. And tomorrow, I'll get up and do it again.


Posted by Rob Kiser on August 30, 2016 at 9:17 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

Big Bear Lake

Big Bear Lake

Every Monday, I fly across the desert and then, just before we get to Los Angeles, the desert does a funny thing. It disappears.
Suddenly, there are mountains and forrests and trails and that one enormous lake there.

Every time I see it, I snap a few photos, and I think, "that looks like a pretty cool place". This morning, I notice how the gnarly twisted road crawls up the mountain to the lake. Wicked switchbacks on a 2 lane black topped road. But where am I? Where does this road come out? and then suddenly, we're over the San Bernadino airport and now I know exactly where the road is and the lake is. But now, we're landing and then unloading and riding the KTM across the sidewalk and racing on Highway 60 east to work
and everything fades.

The memory fades and the lake disappears and suddenly, I'm in a room and we're on a call with a guy who just got off the phone
with the governor of California. And like...I don't even know who this guy is. I seriously don't.
He's rambling on and on and he just won't shut up. But no one says anything like, "Holy fuck dude...get to the point."

No one says that. Or anything remotely close to it. And now he's saying that he just got off the phone with the governor of
California and I'm thinking, "who the fuck is this guy" and "what am I doing here" and "I wonder if that chick is married."

This is sort of how my mind wanders.

Now, I shoudl mention here that we're in a warehouse in the middle of a desert. Just this soulless sort of desert on the eastern end of the
LA Basin and no one wanders here. There are no lost souls. THis is not where they end up.

The homeless people are all 60 miles west of here in Los Angeles proper, or Hollywood, Crenshaw, Watts...anyplace but here.
Not here. Not at all.

Too hot, dry,

The guy on the phone won't shut his fucking mouth and, quite honestly, I don't give a shit if he did just get off the phone with the governor. I mean....he's been talking for 90 minutes straight at this point. No one interruprts. Or comments. Or anything really. I wonder if the governor wanted to kill himself also?

Everyone is just typing away on their laptops, ignoring the shit out of whatever the fuck is being said by the invisible man in the speakerphone.

Now, he's talking about Merced and I'm thinking...."the central valley? are you shitting me?" Like, the Central Valley is on about par with
Detroit, IMHO. I'll never go back there. Not for hell or high water.

Stockton is where I learned to fear people on bicycles.

They say every city teaches you something, but the things I learned in Stockton and Detroit are not things I'm glad I learned. It erased my faith in humanity, the way one guts a fish.

He's talking about where we'll be with the project in 2018 and my eyes roll back in my head. Beam me up Scotty. No intelligent life forms down here.

FInally, the meeting is over and we all literally stand up and walk out of the conference room and no one says one single word. No joke. Just like zombie parade.

I feel like I've just been raped. Like a rape crime victim wandering around in the night.

I'm trying to rent a room from a couple that speaks no english and doesn't see the need to run the AC in August. But I text him, and they say the place has been rented already.

Back at my desk, I plot my escape. I'm going to check out that lake that I saw this morning. Big Bear Lake. I type Big Bear Lake, California into my GPS and it locks it in and I'm off.

About 20 minutes later, I'm climbing slowly out of the LA Basin into the San Bernadino Mountains on a 2 lane black topped road and I'm climbing, climbing...switching back sharply....1,000....2,000.....3,000....it starts to get cooler. There are trees now. ANd now I'm driving through a forest, 4,000 feet above sea level, watching the sun set. Wow. I really had no idea how high these mountains were. It's beautiful. Stunning. It's really funny because, I had no idea that Los Angeles was surrounded by all this beauty. I've been spending every night down in the LA Basin in this shitty little Motel 6 and now, I finally break out of my routine, and discover this beautiful mountain range, and I feel kinda silly for not realizing this was here sooner.

I reach the lake about sunset, and the road forks. One road goes to the North Shore and the town of Fawnskin. One road goes south to the town of Big Bear Lake. But I go North, on the road less traveled because, from the plane, that seemed like the place to be.

By now, I'm in a deep surreal forrest at 7,000 feet above sea level, and it's freezing cold.

By the time I get to Fawnskin, it's solidly dark. And I'm seeing Inns and Cabins, but no one is around to take my money. And now, I'm thinking...I don't have a place to stay tonight. I may as well spend the night up here. I don't normally drive at night, as it's just oo dangerous, and it's now solidly dark.

I decide to head to the southern shore of the lake, so I double back and roll into Big Bear Lake. Stop at the first place I come to and rent a cabin for the night.

I'm not sure what the traffic will be like in the morning, but I'm not driving back down the mountain in the dark. I stop into a Mexican restaurant for dinner and decide to call it a night.


Posted by Rob Kiser on August 30, 2016 at 8:08 AM : Comments (0) | Permalink

Places We Went Camping and Fishing

Now that Jennifer has moved out of the house, I've been riding more in California and Colorado. Yesterday, I ended up crossing Webster Pass, and then riding up above Montezuma. I passed one of our old campgrounds, and the thought occurred to me that a) I might never go camping with Jennifer again and b) she wouldn't really have any way to know where it was that we had camped when she was younger.

So, I thought that I'd post a link on Peenie Wallie so that, if she should ever wonder where it was that we used to camp, she could come to this site an possibly see where it was that we had camped. It's a long shot, but it's easy enough for me to post.

1) We used to camp above Montezuma, Colorado. This is just above Keystone in Summit County. This was where we took the rabbit camping, and took our ATV's, and did some 4 wheeling. The bunny chewed through he leash and escaped. It was my fault and I'm sorry. To get here, drive through the tiny town of Montezuma, Colorado. Continue on Montezuma Road and you come to a small parking lot. Keep going up Montezuma Road (Summit County Rd 5) a short distance, and you'll see where we used to camp on the left, on the side of the road, by Deer Creek. Warning: This is outdoor camping. No facilities here. Here's a map that shows where we camped. We rode the ATV's up above here for a short distance. This campsite is easily accessible in a car.

2) We used to camp at the West Chicago Creek Campground just south of Idaho Springs. There are facilities at this place, and you can make reservations, as I recall. But I think most of the time we just camped on the side of the creek. To find these campgrounds, just go south out of Idaho Springs like you're going up to Mt Evans on Colorado 103, and turn right at the first switchback. This place is fairly close, easily accessible by car, and has facilities. Here's some pictures from one of our camping trips to West Chicago Creek.

3) We camped up on Chinns Lake up by St Mary's Glacier. Here are some photos from one of our camping trips to Chinns Lake, but now I'm thinking maybe we camped there more than once. This lake is difficult to access. Somehow, we took the Tahoe up there, with a canoe and the ATV's, as I recall. But it's not easy to access. No facilities. Very difficult 4wd trail, but a beautiful lake. This is where the people were playing loud music at night and daddy had to fire the pistol several times and tell them to "turn that shit off". Here's a map that shows how to get there.

4) We used to go fishing up at Montgomery Reservoir, just south of Breckenridge. Here's a story where I recollect that we caught 28 trout there in one day. This was in September of 2006, so you were 8 years old at the time. Here's a map that shows how to get to Montgomery Reservoir from Breckenridge. It's easy to access by a car.

5) We used to fish up at the Georgetown Lake.

6) We used to fish up at lake Evergreen a lot.

7) When you were first starting out, we used to fish in that stocked pond down on US Highway 285. I think we have a video of you catching a trout here when you were like 4 or 5, as I recall. Here's the map.

8) One summer we went camping/fishing/hiking up at Wellington Lake, with Charlie and Piper, as I recall. Here's the map to Wellington Lake.


Posted by Rob Kiser on August 21, 2016 at 11:29 AM : Comments (0) | Permalink

Saxon Math



Posted by Rob Kiser on August 19, 2016 at 2:10 AM : Comments (0) | Permalink

Where were you when I was lonesome?

"Moby: When It's Cold I'd Like To Die"

Where were you when I was lonesome?
Locked away with freezing cold
Someone flying only stolen
I can't tell this light so old

I don't want to swim the ocean
I don't want to fight the tide
I don't want to swim forever
When it's cold I'd like to die

What was that my sweet sweet nothing?
I can't hear you through the fog
If I holler let me go
If I falter let me know

I don't want to swim the ocean
I don't want to fight the tide
I don't want to swim forever
When it's cold I'd like to die

I don't want to swim forever
I don't want to fight the tide
I don't want to swim the ocean
When it's cold I'd like to die

I don't want to swim the ocean
I don't want to fight the tide


Posted by Rob Kiser on August 17, 2016 at 7:12 PM : Comments (2) | Permalink

Online Voter Registration


Remember, Republicans vote on Tuesday November 8th, 2016. Democrats vote on Wednesday November 9th.


Posted by Rob Kiser on August 17, 2016 at 10:40 AM : Comments (0) | Permalink