Coffee on the Beach

Good morning, friends. How are we doing today? I’m drinking black tea, as you might’ve guessed. I thought about trying to fast today but then realized that I can’t drink black tea on an empty stomach and so had some nuts. My knee has felt pretty shitty this last week, and I’m not really sure why. Diet? Running a mile? Hiking six miles? Climbing very lightly but still jumping off the wall a couple times from a few feet up? Am I not ready for that even though it felt completely fine? Or maybe I just need to stop touching my knee constantly, constantly massaging it, checking the LCL to see if it’s intact.

No climbing today, as that just seems inadvisable considering the state of my knee I described to you just now. It’s not that it hurts, it’s just that it feels kinda…weird. Like every so slightly stiff. Or actually that the fear is stronger lately, the fear of walking on uneven surfaces, the fear of unexpected lateral movement. That’s a much better way of describing it.

The fear.

But that same fear goes away quite a bit when I put my knee brace on.

Yesterday, as you might’ve guessed, I was out on the Olympic Peninsula checking out Barold’s new property that recently got cleared and had a road put in on it. I spent a night out there surveying the burn piles, roasting hot dogs, taking walks, and generally looking at the stars. It’s amazing how much more briliant the stars are out there than Seattle. Thousands and thousands of twinkling orbs, a general celestial glow pervading throughout. In Seattle when you look at the stars you can only see the big guns, the Big Dipper, Orion, but when out on the Peninsula you realize that behind Orion is a blanket of thousands of other stars, quivering, pulsating, dreamy. The milky way throbs. The blackness is total. And to have that arena above you while in front of you are the glowing embers of a fire, well, it ain’t too bad.

Barold and I had coffee on the beach yesterday. Yes, you read that correctly: coffee. I’ve had a coffee embargo the last couple weeks, but I’ve decided these embargos must be lifted from time to time! Let the people be free to make mistakes, to indulge in excess, etc. etc. Also, as they always say, moderation in all things, including moderation. Which is why from time to time you must jump off the high dive, even when you don’t really feel like it, especially when you don’t feel like it, and even better, when you DO feel like it, and this is why I indulged in a glorious thermos of coffee yesterday on the beach.

Looking out we saw a bald eagle sitting on the piling that marks where the waves break when they’re really big. That doesn’t happen very often. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen it happen. We walked out to the point, an alluvial fan created (ostensibly) by the river and storms shaping the sediment. Here we could see little peelers ripping down the beach, and I wondered when I’ll be able to surf next. I should be able to surf before I can boulder, I mean that sort of makes sense — surfing is a much lower impact activity — but surfing is also unpredictable. You don’t know what the wave is going to do, what the ocean is going to do. You don’t know the contours of the bottom. Surfing everything is fluid and liquid and slippery whereas in bouldering everything is static and your body is the only thing that moves. Your body must adjust to the contour of the rock. Your body must be accommodating. The rock will not yield! No matter how much power you might bring, the rock will not yield. And so it will only let you up if you learn the secret key, and that key consists of how strong you are, how much you weigh, how hard you’re able to pull down, and more importantly your technique. If you can combine and excel in all these aspects, the rock might let you up. Might.

Though actually the rock is indifferent. It is fabulously indifferent.

What am I talking about.

I don’t know what I’m talking about.

I need to do my physical therapy.

I think I’m going to do that right now.

Talk soon.

– Wetz