Matcha Lattes in Monterrey

Monterrey??????? Maybe.

Nothing like lying with your shirt off on the bed a the Hotel Krystal in Monterrey, Mexico, leg elevated, not watching the Super Bowl. I just had one of the best matcha lattes I’ve ever had. Well, two atually. I went to a place called Tierra Libre that I found by googling “matcha” using the map of Monterrey and it came up. I got a hot one with in-house made almond milk, and a cold one with peanut milk. I never thought a latte could be made using peanut milk. This might’ve just changed everything. I’ve been looking for coffee replacements over the years, and so far the two front-runners are: Matcha lattes, yerba mate, and black tea. OK, that was three. But right now matcha is winning the charge. Yerba mate is amazing but it has too much caffeine. Sure, if you’re in Buenos Aires, hanging out on an esplanade with a group of your friends, passing the gourd around, passing the thermos around, passing some empanadas around, maybe kissing some guys on the cheek, then you’d be a fool not to have mate. But if you’re at home by yourself on a boat in Seattle, then, yeah, it’s a bit too much.

I remember the first time an Argentinian guy went in for the kiss. Now I’m almost offended when they don’t.

The question is this: Should I wait for Tierra Libre to open tomorrow at 1pm before hitting the road, throwing off the entire timing of my day, but allowing me to sample yet another one of these matcha dream theaters?

No.

Obviously not.

Tierra Libre?????? Definitely.

Tomorrow I need to get a decent start. I’m not really looking forward to tomorrow, I will not fib. I have to drive a couple hours to the border, dodging what will surely be a gauntlet of bogus speed checks manned by “cops” looking to help me out by not sending me all the way to the station to pay my “ticket.” Then I have to figure out how to get my Temporary Import Permit cancelled. Then I have to figure out how to get in line for the border. Then I have to actually cross the border, and then I have to possibly drive the seven or so hours to Pecos, Texas. I mean, that’s sort of the loose plan. I could always stay another day in Monterrey. I’m absolutely not going to do that, but I could.

For dinner I got a portobello burger with salad and a chai latte with peanut milk, also from Tierra Libre. Before tip it cost $7.16.

High times at the Hotel Krystal. I just asked the room service people to bring up a big bag of ice so I could ice my knee. I read today that loading a healing ligament (not to the point of re-rupturing it, of course), is the best thing you can do for it, so I walked up the ten flights of stairs to my room, which normally wouldn’t be much exertion but pushed my knee a bit. Which is great. I want to push my knee. I’m back to watching tons of bouldering videos, starting to get stoked again. A couple weeks ago the idea of climbing a V0 or doing the first few moves on a boulder, as long as they were easy and you weren’t too high off the ground, sounded impossible. Now it sounds mostly possible. I mean, it doesn’t sound particularly smart, but it sounds possible.

The thing you need to do when you get injured is inject peptides into yourself. It’s the only way to heal.

I’m running dangerously low on water but what am I gonna do? Am I gonna leave my hotel room at 10:30pm at night to go to a convenience store? Claro que no.

Who wants to drive to Pecos with me tomorrow?

I don’t know when I’ll be back in Seattle but I do know this: I’m gonna make a physical therapy appointment for sometime fairly so so it forces me to get back. And then, what, gym membership semi-soon at SBP????? Are you kidding me????? Crushing slab??????

K I’ve literally been elevating my leg for like the last two hours.

Time to not watch YouTube and go to bed.

Aka time to watch Alex Puccio videos and get stoked.

Stained glass!

– Wetz

Zacatecas!!!! | Mazatlan to Zacatecas

Que hermosura. Suave, sedoso, y hermoso…

It was a curvy road, this morning. Leaving Mazatlan. A curvy road. So curvy that a couple times I felt like I was getting carsick, and I was driving! I didn’t think it was possible to get carsick when you’re driving, just like when you’re seasick the best thing you can do is start driving the boat.

The Subi ran into a bit of a problem today. We had driven about halfway from Mazatlan to Durango, when there were cars stopped waiting for road workers to let them through. So this meant a little stop and go traffic for awhile, and as soon as we were in this line the Subi’s engine promptly started smoking. And it smelled a bit like burning rubber. Or burning oil. So I started cranking the heat to try to get heat out of the engine compartment, and she didn’t overheat, though I have no idea if my heat cranking actually helped. And then finally the line started moving again, and I just kept going. Maybe it’s low on oil (I check the oil every five minutes)? Maybe it’s just a shitty, old car? Maybe a belt actually did break the other day?

Ahhhhh, the Subi.

So now I’m in Zacatecas, and it’s beautiful. I can officially add this to my “Top 5 Favorite Cities in Mexico” list. Others on it include: Mexico City, Guanajuato and….oh I don’t know, maybe San Jose del Cabo? El Roble? La Union?

I had originally planned to stay a night in Durango, but when I came out of the hills where the engine started smoking and careened on the plains that hold Durango I thought, “Yeah…….no way I’m staying in this city tonight.” Sometimes when I start driving it’s hard for me to stop driving. Like, all I wanna do is drive all day and all night and just get SOMEWHERE, or get AWAY from everything, or something. I think the reason I just wanna keep driving sometimes is because it can be kind of stressful to arrive somewhere when you don’t know the city and you don’t have lodging booked. So if you just keep driving, you delay that stress. Until the stress of driving for 10 straight hours outweighs that stress.

Now I’m in a beautiful guesthouse in Zacatecas, and tomorrow I’m hopefully moving to an AirBnb. And I have a confession to make real quick: I don’t know if I’m going any further south on this trip. Like, I don’t know if I’m going to Mexico City. We’ll see. I’m gonna spend a few days in Zacatecas to walk around and drink coffee and think about things. Also, there are good tamales here.

The knee feels great after the fast, just so you know. It really helped to bring the inflammation down.

I think I’m gonna read Circe and go to bed. Or maybe start on season 4 of Alone. Or maybe watch YouTube videos.

This place is really freaking quiet. I think I’m gonna sleep well tonight.

Buenas noches.

– Wetz

Man’s Search for Topo | Los Mochis to Mazatlan

Alki Beach.

Part 1

The question on everyone’s mind right now: How long will it be before I can boulder again? AKA this is the question on no one’s mind, and not even really on my mind right now. In fact, this is precisely something I’m trying to avoid thinking about.

My knee actually feels pretty good today. I have eaten nothing today. I just passed the 24 hour mark, which apparently is the sweet spot for digestive repair. I need this digestive repair considering the amount of coffee I had yesterday and the wretched (though right now it sounds so good) pizza I had for dinner. I’m drinking green tea that I just got from Starbucks. This is my evening. Oh, and watching Alone. Alone. But at least this road trip sort of has a point now! I mean, it always had a point: the weather was terrible in Seattle, and I was hurt. So, rather than wallowing on my boat until the days got a bit longer and the weather got a bit better, why not drive to Mexico and spend some time in the sun and rehab? The perfect plan, right?

Right.

Except gas is kinda expensive.

But other than that the perfect plan, right????????????????

Actually, yeah, pretty much right, except I forgot how alone I’d be. Which of course is my fault. I could be meeting more people. And I have met some people. And I have friends in Mexico City, should I go there.

One thing I’m stoked about right now is that right now where I am in Mazatlan is pretty much the furthest south I’m gonna go. I mean, I’ll go a little further south, to get to places like Guadalajara and Mexico City, but those places are pretty much east. ALSO, I WILL NEVER HAVE TO RETRACE THE KILOMETERS I JUST DROVE THROUGH SINALOA AND SONORA. EVER AGAIN IN MY LIFE, IF I DON’T WANT TO. And this is huge, because I don’t think I want to. When I eventually leave Mexico, I will either drive A) Back to Mazatlan and through Baja, or B) Up to Monterrey and into Texas. I’ve never been to Monterrey and all the space between Mexico City and Monterrey, and I’ve never been to Texas. Not that I have any desire at all to go to Texas. In fact, I patently don’t want to go to Texas. But I would rather do the bulk of my driving in The States on the way back. When I’m ready to go home, I’m just gonna wanna get home.

But I could also always go to Guatemala.

Today’s route, Leg 7-ish????

The plan for tomorrow: Wake up, go swimming in the ocean, chill in the hotel room, take a walk on the beach, maybe try to go to the dentist for a cleaning (this is an absolute must while I’m in Mexico slash 33% of the reason I came here), drive to San Blas, stay with the wonderful familia at La Familia, go to Stoner’s or some other beach in the evening, watch Alone, write a blog post, go to bed (hopefully still having not eaten).

The plan for tonight: Walk to Oxxo. Buy Topo Chico with “Twist de Limon” and also a gallon of water. Go back to hotel room. Listen to waves. Fall asleep listening to waves. Read the book Circe. Maybe buy travel insurance. Research ayahuasca retreats.

Part 2

This is wild. A week ago I was in Lone Pine, California. I was also in Bishop. I was also in Fallon, Nevada! And now I’m in Mazatlan, sitting out on a balcony, listening to the sounds of the waves. And all because of a right foot pressed against an accelerator pedal in a ’97 Subaru Outback.

Speaking of which, I got passed today by ANOTHER Subaru also with Washington plates! Wild stuff, I know.

I’m starting to get hungry.

Ok, ok, take a step back.

Just walked to the Oxxo where I got a lime Topo Chico and a 6-gallon container of water. I’m good on water for the next week and a half, aka the next 24 hours or so. Aka I might just stay here tomorrow night too. Aka depending on how much it costs on Booking.com.

Aka I need to brush my teeth.

Aka I want to brush my teeth.

Am I in autophagy now?

Probably not.

Mazatlan sunset.

The smell of the ocean is intoxicating. Tomorrow I’m going to get up and go for a swim. I’ve been doing some soul-searching on this trip, of course. I think anytime you’re alone for long stretches of time you start to do some soul searching. And I’ve come to the following conclusions: 1) I need community. 2) I need to feel like I have some sort of purpose. Fuck meaning, I’ve long given up on the search for meaning. You give things your own meaning. Meaning and purpose are SIMILAR, but they’re not the same thing. Purpose is something you can definitely have, and I think meaning is more something you can sense. My goal in 2021 is to get to the point where I am excited af to get up every morning, excited af to get out of bed. Like, I wake up and I’m just like jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesus it is great to be alive.

That is my goal.

It is also my goal to boulder V7. In 2021.

Which means I better get this knee healed.

Which means I better get some rest.

– W

All Men Make Faults | Mexicali to Hermosillo

Thinking how just a few days ago I was going over a pass in Nevada at 7,000 feet in blizzard conditions, shifting into second gear to avoid rear-ending a semi, is a bit weird. Now I’m in Mexico. I’m in Hermosillo, in the state of Sonora. It’s 11:12pm and I’m in the Hotel Ibis and outside I can hear sirens. I had an avocado chipotle chicken sandwich for dinner, with a red berry smoothie. Today I got pulled over two times and had to pay bribes both times, amazingly the first time in my life I’ve ever paid bribes, in Mexico or anywhere else. In retrospect I could’ve said, “Take me down to the station. I wanna do this the official way,” but I didn’t. I paid the first police officers, in Sonoyta, 500 pesos. I paid the second police officers, in a town called Altar, 400 pesos. 900 pesos in total, or $45 USD. I was so pissed after the second encounter that I slammed on the horn while ripping down the highway and screamed myself hoarse.

And now I’m at the Hotel Ibis in Hermosillo. And I’m pretty stoked. I’m scared I’m going to keep getting pulled over every time I drive for having gringo plates and a gringo car (no one has Subarus down here) and being gringo, but I’m still pretty stoked. The bed is comfy. I’m staying here at LEAST two nights so I don’t have to drive tomorrow and can also explore Hermosillo, and now I’m fully in Mexico. I’m not at the border anymore. I’m not near the border. I’m in the capital of Sonora.

The border wall between Mexicali and Sonoyta.

Good things from today:

  • Seeing the border wall (more “interesting” than “good”)
  • Driving a long distance
  • The car still running well
  • Successfully checking and adding oil
  • Getting to Hermosillo to a nice hotel for half of what I’ve been paying the US
  • Getting far enough south that I feel like I can start to slow down
  • The weather is perfect
  • Getting sun

Things I could’ve done better:

  • I could’ve paid the second cops $200 instead of $400, or even just said, “Fine, let’s go before the judge. I wasn’t speeding and you don’t have radar so let’s do it.”
  • I could’ve been HYPER vigilant about not going more than 40km/hr in and around town, even though EVERYONE around me is speeding (but not everyone around is in a Subaru with Washington plates).
  • I could’ve eaten better (this is something I can say essentially every day of my life)

After getting to Hermosillo I celebrated with a frapuccino from a coffee shop that specialized in coffee and comic books. It’s in a mall just down the street from my hotel and I’ll definitely be back there tomorrow. I’m so stoked to not be near the border anymore. I’m also so stoked on how cheap AirBnb’s are. I was just checking Durango and you can get ENTIRE APARTMENTS for like $13 a night. What am I doing staying in hotels? But that’s how it goes with road trips, or with longer trips. You usually pay more at the beginng, but then you get in a groove and start to slow down a little bit and spend a lot less money. I guess that makes sense, because if you were to REALLY slow down you’d be living there, and then you’d (hopefully) be paying local prices.

And since I don’t usually post pictures of myself:

I am incapable of making a reasonable face for a photo. Jenny Newman, eat your heart out.

More from Hermosillo tomorrow!

– Wetz

 

 

The Other Side | Palm Desert to Mexicali (Grand Road Trip Leg 6)

Sunset in Mexicali.

The first time I came to Mexicali was in 2007. I remember it like it was 14 years ago. I was 23 years old, freshly graduated from the Universidad de Washington, where I had just majored in Spanish and Portuguese studies, despite having never studied Portuguese. My Spanish was the best it’s ever been, since I’d just studied in Mexico City the year before. The idea was to go from Seattle to Buenos Aires by land and write a book about it. That book never materialized, though parts of a rough draft of it did, mostly written in a coffee shop in Victoria, BC called the Moka House and also a the UVic library, where I would also read Jane Eyre until I fell asleep and then meet my girlfriend for a late breakfast, which usually consisted of hashbrowns smothered in ketchup and sausage.

On that trip I was actually in San Felipe, a couple hours south, and realized that if I wanted to go further south in mainland Mexico I’d have to go all the way back to Mexicali and get a bus. So my host, a guy from my parents’ church originally from San Felipe, found me a ride with a couple going north and next thing I knew I was at the bus station in Mexicali and for 50 bucks I got a one-way ticket o Mazatlan, a bus ride that would take 24 hours.

In Mazatlan I stayed with my friend’s grandmother, and then on the bus to Guadalajara from Mazatlan met a guy named Jeff from Vancouver, who I’m still friends with to this day. We got black out drunk on tequila in Guadalajara, and the only thing I really remember is sitting around Jeff playing the guitar and singing. The next day I felt awful. And the next day we were supposed to do a tequila tour. Those were my first memories of Guadalajara. After Guadalajara I went to Mexico City, and then my girlfriend at the time and I went to Puebla and Puerto Escondido. Eventually I did make it by land to Buenos Aires, albeit with a boat ride from Panama to Colombia.

Now, here I am 14 later, back in Mexicali, this time with my ’97 Subaru who BARELY got a Temporary Import Permit today letting her/us go anywhere we want in the whole damn Republic. The world is our periwinkle. And this barely happened because APPARENTLY my car has a damaged frame. Which means I probably don’t even have a clean title. Which I was a bit dismayed/surprised to learn. But at the same time I’m thrilled I even GOT a TIP (Temporary Import Permit) because I thought you needed the title to get a TIP and it turns out all I needed was the registration.

So now I’m in Mexico. I have Mexican car insurance. I have permission to go ANYWHERE I WANT IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING COUNTRY, and that might be exactly what I do.

But first I have to decide: Am I going to eat tonight.

You see, I’ve been fasting all day today, and I’m coming up on 24 hours. This has been one of the easiest fasts I’ve ever done, because I’ve been distracted by 1) driving all day, 2) crossing the border, and 3) getting a hotel. I’ve had water and a little bit of green tea, but no calories. And while I would LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE to eat tonight if I don’t eat tonight I could possibly do my longest fast ever, and tomorrow might be the perfect day to do it because tomorrow I might spend all day driving to Hermosillo.

Oh yeah, I’m probably not going to Baja.

I love Baja.

But, like, I’ve been there a bunch.

And I’ve never really been to Hermosillo.

And Hermosillo seems kinda dope.

Cuz it’s, like, the desert.

And it’s Sonora.

And if went there I might go to Chihuahua.

Which when I was younger I thought was pronounced, “Chi-hoo-a-hoo-a.”

Fajita.

You don’t really realize how ridiculous the border wall is until you spend some time on the other side of it.

If I don’t eat tonight, what am I gonna do? Just sit in my hotel room all evening? You see because if I eat then that’s something to do. That’s my evening. I eat and then I come back and I watch “Alone” for awhile and then I go to sleep. But if I don’t eat, then, well that’s an empty existence. But then again my whole life revolves around food. I’m like a golden lab.

OK, I’m gonna take a shower. That will feel nice. And drink some more green tea infused water. I forget that you can’t drink the water in Mexico. Which means if I want water I need to brave crossing the busy thoroughfare in front of my hotel. And I don’t know if I’m up for that. And let’s be honest, if I go to a grocery store right now there’s no WAY I’m not getting food. Ugghhhhhh this is so difficult. Why is fasting so hard.

OK time to chill.

I’m in Mexico.

So fucking stoked.

My Attention || Road to V4

It has come to my attention recently that I don’t know how to write. I’m often told: You’re a good writer, and I only about 30% believe this. But reading through recent blog posts I only about 5% believe this, and I’m not really sure how to change this so I more about 90% believe this. Though, to be fair, I don’t think a writer can ever get to 90%. The best a writer can get to as far as self-belief is probably somewhere around 84%.

It has been about three weeks since I’ve bouldered. Let me give you a quick update on the state of my bouldering and also what I’ve been up to since the last time I bouldered:

Current state of bouldering:

Sent three V3’s (U2, Rocksteadeasy, and Unnamed V3 at the Index River Boulders)

Sent a bunch of V2’s (among them I Heart Jugs, Beam Me Up, Magic School Bus, and Insanity Later)

Almost sent one V4 (Dirty Dancing at The Washout Boulders in Leavenworth).

 

And now, what I’ve been up to since I last bouldered three weeks ago:

Went to Mexico. Surfed better than I ever have in my life. Surfed the 6’1” Wraith (based on the Pyzel Phantom or Ghost at this point I don’t even remember and shaped by Northwest Native Parker Worthington). Ate a bunch of good food. Smoked a bunch of rollies with friends. Lounged in an air-conditioned room. Went to Mexico City. Did nothing there but drink matcha lattes and eat prickly pear fruit. Flew back home to Seattle. Thinking about climbing tomorrow (or maybe even today).

Oh, and also I might be going on a bouldering road trip starting next Saturday.

But that’s still kinda up in the air.

At this point in this blog post you’re probably wondering what I’m doing at this exact moment, since I talk about that pretty much every blog post. I’ll give you three guesses. Ok, you got it first try: I’m sitting on the boat drinking Earl Grey from Trader Joe’s out of a cup from a matcha latte I got yesterday at Whole Foods. I can’t believe you got that. You’re good.

Chelsea play in 15 minutes. I hope Christian Pulisic plays well. Then I’m having coffee with a friend and I don’t know what I’m doing this afternoon. If my COVID test I took yesterday comes back negative I COULD go climbing today at SBP with my friends Bloom and Jessa, but we’ll see. That time slot is probably all booked up anyway.

I could also just get in my car right now and drive to Serenity Now V4+ and pick up where I left off. But that sounds kind of awful.

I could go to Whole Foods and get a matcha latte.

I could use my foam roller.

I could write another blog post.

Or I could drink some mate.

The choice is clear.

-Wetz

 

My Favorite Mountain Town in Mexico

There are two kinds of traveler in the world and only two kinds: the kind who go to inland Mexico, and the kind who don’t. The kind who DO go to inland Mexico one can’t say enough good things about. They’re generally intrepid explorers, kind, compassionate people who’ve spent very little time in prison. They’re the kind of people who help people because they like helping people, not because they want something in return. They generally read a lot and have high IQ’s. They do fun activities like skateboard and play the piano. They have grander aspirations than just living the rat race, working 9-9, living on a prayer.

Etc, etc.

Then you have the other kind of traveler. “Um, like, I don’t DO inland Mexico.” My friend’s mom actually said these very words to me, about 15 years ago. She actually used the word “do.” She actually used the word “Mexico.” She actually used the word “inland.” She actually ended her sentence with a period in the form of the briefest of pauses, a tiny breath of air, a moment that stood suspended in time…

And I was like —

And she was like —

And they were like —

And we were all like —

Mexico.

But that was 15 years ago. It’s not like I still think about that. It’s not like I mention it from time to time in blog posts. It’s not like I sit up at night with a little voodoo doll of my friend’s mom, pretending to parade her on backroads from Guadalajara to Tlapujahua, forcing her to take in the amazing highland culture, forcing her to sit by the shores of Lago Zirahuen whilst church bells ring in the distance and the searing sound of a fresh tortilla placed on a comal can be heard. It’s not like I resent her saying this. It’s not like I have some big chip on my shoulder regarding people who only go to super touristy places and never dare to venture off the beaten path. It’s not like I’m sitting on a sailboat right now, wearing mesh basketball shorts and drinking tea from a Starbucks cup I got three days ago, counting the minutes till Chelsea play and I can watch Our Lord and Savior Christian Pulisic slice and dice defenders from Brighton en route to a opening matchday victory. It’s not like I haven’t showered today. It’s not like a don’t have a beautiful drawing of a kingfisher in my boat, expertly framed, that totally livens up the room.

In other words, it’s not like I care.

Except I totally, deeply care. In fact, this might be one of the only things I care about.

ANWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let’s talk about San Sebastian del Oeste, Jalisco’s premier destination nestled in the Sierra Madre Occidental, a mist-enshrouded gem of a pueblo.

Barold and I got there after a harrowing drive on backroads from San Blas that involved hotsprings and a frightening deluge which turned the arroyos into rivers and threatened to carry our little Nissan March off into the fray. Luckily, though, we made it to the main highway that goes from Puerto Vallarta to San Sebastian, gaining thousands of feet of elevation in a matter of minutes. Because here’s the thing about San Sebastian del Oeste: It’s fucking high. But it’s also quite fucking close to Puerto Vallarta. You can get there in less than two hours.

We stayed at a place called Hotel Mansion Real, which was kind of a huge mistake. It cost about $113 dollars. The room smelled musty. The banisters in the courtyard had saran wrap on them, because Mexicans have weird ideas about sanitation and COVID. And the weirdest thing: There was a sitting room connected to the bathroom where you could look out over the mountains. Why was the sitting room in the bathroom?????? Literally the only thing we wanted the room for was to be able to gaze out over the mountains, but you don’t want a toilet next to you when you’re doing that.

Luckily, there was a terrace where we could smoke cigs. Not that we were doing that. We were drinking celery juice.

The coup de grace of the whole trip was going to a restaurant I’d always wanted to go to ever since going to SS del O two years ago: Jardin Nebulosa. The reason I hadn’t gone last time I was there was because it was apparently fancy and nice and I didn’t want to go to a place like that on my own. But this time I was with Barold, so of course we went, and of course we went all out. Aka got appetizers. Aka got multiple drinks. Aka didn’t think about the price. Aka we were the only ones dining there and it was a gorgeous night as the afternoon turned to dusk and the dusk turned to night and the little lamps in the garden became illuminated and our server gave us expert attention and was good-natured and cheery and conversed at length with us about life in San Sebastian and life in general.

We started with a spread of fresh tortilla chips covered in various kinds of insects, chapulines (grasshoppers) and some kind of larvae. Then we had lamb carnitas. Then we had dessert, texturas de maiz for me and some kind of fruit cream thing for Barry. The food was delicious and the best part? When I got home and checked my bank statement — after going all out — I’d only spent 27 dollars. Que viva Mexico, carbones (sic).

Anyway, go to San Sebastian del Oeste, or rather don’t go there because you don’t do inland Mexico. Don’t stay at Hotel Mansion Real, but rather stay at Hotel del Puente if you want something budget or Boutique Villa Nogal or Galeritas if you want something high class. But don’t stay at Masion Real. Definitely eat at Jardin Nebulosa. Definitely spend most of your time at Cafe Fortin, on the plaza, a quaint AF cafe that has great coffee drinks and cheaper fare. Definitely go to the coffee finca. Definitely don’t hike up to Cerro La Bufadora unless you like hiking god hiking is the worst fucking activity in the world it’s only cool if you’re going bouldering mother of Mary.

But like, yeah.

Go to San Sebastian del Oeste.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to sitting on my boat. How is it still four hours till Chelsea play???? What’s for breakfast, salmon with eggs? Am I having salmon with eggs for breakfast???? Am I millionaire?

The answer is yes.

– Wetz

 

 

Hella Sardines | R2V4 #18

Hella sardines.

I did something deviant yesterday. I bought a ticket to…..MEXICO????? ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? ARE YOU GOING TO MEXICO, BRO???? YOU’RE NOT GOING TO MEXICO….

But yes, I’m going to Mexico. On August 15th. A day before my birthday. For 11 days. And everyone’s invited. Slash no one’s invited. Slash Barold might come but that’s about it. There’s a good chance I’ll be alone on my 37th birthday, though I hope I’m not ACTUALLY alone, i.e. I meet people in San Pancho, where I hope to stay.

You’re not God, dude…

Now, before everyone starts going insane and shaming me for traveling during a pandemic, at least do your research.

A couple points:

1) Alaska Airlines is taking HELLA precautions to make sure flying is safe. With their HEPA filters their air quality is comparable to what’s found in hospitals. Masks are, obviously, mandatory. You must sign a health agreement before flying. The list goes on.

2) I’m not going to Puerto Vallarta to club, guys (well, I’m not really going to Puerto Vallarta anyway but the surrounding areas). I’m not going to stand in enclosed spaces around a bunch of other people. In fact, other than in my hotel room, I don’t plan on ever being inside, ever. And I’m not going to be around a bunch of people because I don’t KNOW a bunch of people there. I know less than I do here. So I’ll mostly be on my own. Surfing, on my own, and driving around. Which is actually kinda sad. And kinda awesome.

3) I plan on getting tested when I get back. If It’s free, I’m going to do everything I can to get tested when I get back so I can put those around me at ease. And I will definitely not hang around my parents until I either a) get the results of the test or b) a suitable amount of time has passed.

Why on earth am I justifying myself to you?

Maybe I’ll delete that. Or maybe I’ll just leave it.

I’m doing a bit of the quote unquote INTERMITTENT FASTING today, aka I ate my last food at 10pm last night which means today I’m not allowed to eat till 2pm. I bought HELLA SARDINES yesterday when I was at Safeway, aka hella smoked fish and shellfish, aka smoked baby clams, smoked scallops, LIGHTLY smoked sardines, and smoked oysters. They were all on clearance for some reason, which I patently don’t understand considering 98% of people go to Safeway to buy little tins of smoked seafood.

I MIGHT climb tomorrow, because I’m probably not climbing on Thursday, and Friday Dan and I leave on our backpacking trip to the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Who knows. I gotta say, I am a bit hungry right now. Two and a half hours till I can eat. What am I gonna have. Chipotle? Hella sardines? A salad from Evergreens? I mean, I gotta have something KINDA healthy. Like, I can’t break my fast with pizza. Not that that’s even THAT unhealthy. But I mean the whole reason I’m doing this is to get healthier. Get leaner. Improve healing. Etc. Etc. Etc. Etc.

OK, I think that’s everything. There’s almost literally nothing I could tell you that would be novel. Update on the state of my fingers: They’re doing fucking great. Update on my shoulder: Slow going but slowly healing. Update on the state of my mind: Fasting is fucking awesome.

 

What Happened? (#14)

There is a time and a place for going to the little fishing hamlet of Westport, Washington. The time is almost never. But today was one of the days in which it was appropriate to go. The waves looked to be wondrous, and they were. A friend and I had one of the best surf sessions we’d had in awhile. I felt like a taller, less capable version of Kelly Slater. The waves were consistent and the wind was offshore. The traffic was light going through Tacoma and Olympia, which almost never happens. If I were religious I would say that the gods (plural) were smiling at us from their perches up on high. But I am not religious. I believe in Chopin Nocturnes and saying goodnight to the stars every night.

But that is neither here nor there.

What is here (and there)? I’m not quite sure. I’m going to Mexico on Saturday, and I’m excited about that. The flight leaves at 5am from Seattle which means we have to be to the airport around 3am, which means I’m basically not sleeping Friday night. Which is fine, because it means I’ll probably sleep more on the plane. I have aisle seats all the way there. At least on the first flight to LAX, home to Shake Shack, a company I have stock in which has been tanking recently.

Our AirBnb the first two nights in Mexico is spectacular.

Excuse the ghetto-ass embed above. But I wanted to show you how incredible this place looks. It doesn’t cost $273 a night.

Also excuse this paltry blog post today. I’m exhausted. After surfing I went to my friend’s house and drank coffee, and coffee is pretty much a life ruiner for me. It picks me up for a few moments, and then drops me like a sack of yams. Which basically meant that as I was driving back from Westport I began to slip into a state of malaise. As we were going by Sea-Tac I was ready to open the door, shove myself out, and roll. But I stayed strong. And now I’m at my friend’s house desperately blogging and getting ready to eat pozole.

The universe provides.

Speaking of the universe providing, I wonder if it will provide me with a massage in the next couple days. I desperately need one ( see: it would be a welcome luxury) and have always thought that when you really need something, the universe provides it. Like the time I went to Chile with $300 bucks and got a job at a bed ‘n’ breakfast and then at an Italian restaurant. Or the time I needed to get the metal out of my wrist and the surgeon walked into the triage room and said, “So, we’re taking all the metal out today?”

You know exactly what I’m talking about.

Or maybe you have no idea what I’m talking about. I feel miles apart from you today. What happened?

-W