Robi

Happy.

Daylight Again

Into the light


Imagine the litter boxes...


I've felt like this before...


Retrospect

Manzanar

Over the years, I've had many an occasion to drive the length of the Owens Valley stretch of US Highway 395. While I'd always admired the scenery and geographic diversity of the region, the highway and its surroundings were always 'a means to an end', if you will. A conduit.
On my last trip up 395, I made a purposeful stop along the way. At Manzanar.
I had read about it as a child and knew it's significance and place in American and, more notably, Japanese-American history. I had always been disturbed by it's purpose and presence. To spare a history essay... to me it stood as a reminder of man's inhumanity to man.

While there's not much to see at the current Manzanar 'Historical Landmark', what's important is what isn't seen. But rather what is felt or even sensed.
There is a stark and awesome feeling to the place. If you take the time to travel to the 'back' of the square mile monument, you come across the cemetery and it's obelisk.
Amongst the stark high desert landscape, dry wind, towering mountains and eerie silence... I was humbled and touched.




Mt. Williamson (14,381') stands sentinel




It reads:
"Monument to console the souls of the dead."




Those who would pay homage to Manzanar's dead attach origami to
posts surrounding the obelisk.




Coins are also left in tribute and honor.




Infants were not untouched by hate.




Testament.




It reads:
"Erected by the Manzanar Japanese, August 1943."


mountains turn to dust
wind becomes still and silent
ere these souls forget

G. Wilson

Athletics...

I've always been a fan.
I, myself, have toed the line and know the pain, joy, nadirs and zeniths that are part and parcel of this thing we label sport. To be trite, it is agony and ecstasy. Life.
For me... not so much for the high dollar 'ball-sports'. Indeed, those folks have paid their dues to compete at a national and lucrative level. They've practiced long and hard at a skill. And some endurance. Don't get me wrong, I'm still a huge fan of: both Footballs, Baseball, Motor sports, Hockey, you name it. Being partial, I gladly throw track and field into my elite camp.
But, for me, the account is not level. The pain bank for the 'ball sports' has not been paid it's due deposit. Not even close.
Give it a try. Get on the bike sitting in your garage and go ride 60 miles in 3 hours. I dare you.
Then, put boxers throwing punches at you every 200 meters for those miles. Then try to win.
And that's just a regional or continental race. World class race? Multiply it. By much.
I digress. Another big race this weekend. The Manhattan Beach Grand Prix is a revered race.
The VKitties did just fine.



Jen 'wheels' Wilson gets a call up (like a pre-event ovation) to the line.




She's been racing well over the last couple of seasons. Call up is good.




JW and Liz Hatch patrolling the pack. Sensible.









Lizzer takin' care of VanderKitten bizzer. Team patroling.
Nobody seems to want to cut this gal some slack... but she is a top flight racer.
She is becoming a great student of the game. Don't let the pretty face fool you.
She takes care of team business when it needs to be done.
Motor. Strong. Fierce.
Now that gets the job done.
Strong, baby.







Then, there's Melissa. Wow.
Uber composed. Uber fit. Uber fast.
And my fave part is just how Zen-like she approaches life.
I'm beginning to take lessons.

Vanderkitten is figuring it out.

Vanderkitten is just starting to gel. Make no mistake.

To quote Ted "Theodore" Logan... "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K...".

That is a quote I don't take lightly.

Don't call it a TV Dinner...

And don't you dare call it a frozen enchilada meal.

No. This, my friends, is a Mexican Style Fiesta.
It says so right on the box.
And, just in case I was worried about not getting enough for dinner...
It's over 1 LB. OF FOOD.
It says so right on the box.
So there you have it. A party... nay, a fiesta will occur in 40 minutes.
And I am glad.
Because I'm a hungry man.

That's the Spirit...

Photo: Kathleen King

Big race. Gonna represent.
Serious competition, but why not have some fun.
I love the spirit this sport brings to the table.

Say Hi to Emma...

This is Emma. What a cutie pie.
I hear she's all grown up now.
I just love these moments.

A Bole of Sisters...

Late morning walk. Central Oregon in October.
It's crisp. It's clear. I can't capture a landscape photo worth a damn.
But I saw a great old tree. And it afforded me a great view through a 'Y' in it's bole.
Why not? It was lovely. And a chipmunk was nibbling at my shoes.
Doesn't get much sweeter than that.

How proud am I?

Yup, the gal got a call up for a Pro type ride at one of the biggest races this side of the pond...
Redlands, baybee.
Vanderkitten racing is looking to make a mark on the domestic circuit. So happy to be racing for the upstart kids on the block. So thankful that they would look to provide my local gal with a kit in which to ride one of the premiere races on the NRC circuit.


I was at work and found out there was a live web-broadcast of the start...
Managed to hit alt-printscreen in time.

Woohoo!!! A TT! and uphill at that! Not Wheels' forte, to say the least. But, you gotta give it a whirl if you're gonna race for the next three days...
Proud I am, indeed, with today's Prologue/Stage .5 results.
My gal shaved a clean 39 seconds off of last year's time. Woot. Better than last year and better placed.
Mara Abbott (High Road), stud(ette) that she is, killed theTT with a win, but I'm jazzed to say that VK placed a couple of riders well within 2 minutes from the lead and then the rest of the group within 2.75 minutes. Heck, the whole VK team lies in the top 2/3 mark of the peloton. Consistency.
Nice.
"Merde" to the VKs that venture forth on today's first road stage at Redland's Bicycle Classic.
Kick some Kitten ass.

Proud, I am. Proud of all the female racers. Proud of the non-pro gals that show up to play with the 'big gals' of the sport.
Gals that have day jobs pitting themselves tooth-and-nail against those that get paid to ride a bike.... The fact that they bring any game at all is aces in my book. Pure aces. Pocket rockets.
That just kicks ass.


More to come on this year's Redlands Classic Stage Race.

An old flame...

...well, almost. I had one just like her over
twenty years ago. We had to part ways.
Then, along came Sabrina. We fell in love.
Ain't she purdy?

Real Cycling...

It seems, sometimes, that professional cycling is all about glitz and glamour.
The fact is, these riders, men and women, hang it all out there on the course.
It's real life and it's hard.

photo: Tim Ferreira

Womb of Existentialism...

Just ran across this old slide scan.
My first thought was... Wow. That's sweet. Mom and Pops livin' the gig.
That's me in there.
And I still think henways, lime green tops with vertical stripes, background yuccas and poorly framed family gathering photos are cool.
Timeless.

My buddy gets married

My best buddy in the world gets married.
I was in the wedding party but had my camera at the ready.
I think I got a good one.

Peace and Love to J & K.

Down Mexico Way

About a year ago, we found ourselves near the California/Mexico border.
It was a lovely spot. The sky was massive that evening.
Boulevard, CA

Of late...

Apollo calls it a day.
The Santa Monica mountains, Calabasas, CA



Canis chillius
A chilly dog before breakfast? Yes, indeed!
Shy on a cold Oregon morning.
Photo: Jennifer Wilson




Passive predation. Sap trap presents a sticky situation.



Nymphalis californica





Vertebra.




Apollo calls it another day.
Interstate 5, somewhere south of Redding, CA




Thank you and good night.

Repose, Redux

Yeah, it's been a while since my last post.
I'm leaving for the big O (Oregon, that is) in a couple of days... should provide some good photo postage. So stay tuned...
In the meantime, I'll leave ya with an image with vintage.

This image was captured about 30 seconds after "Repose, Unposed" (see earlier post).
Ribald? Debatable. Art? Possibly. Beautiful? I say yes.
But that's just me...

Clark County Tre-dux

From desert oases to valleys of fire to backyard gardens...
I still find that it's the minutia, normally overlooked, that captures my eye.




Barely larger than a dime, this little fellow unexpectedly landed on my erstwhile subject.
Good luck, indeed.




Like quicksilver... or a blister in the sun?
Actually, it was a lonely drop of pine sap on a rock.




Almost liquid.




I'll take mine... rocks, with a twist.




...like regulars, the boys bellied up to the bar.




Another heavy drinker.




What ABCs.




Coccinellidae




Ant on infant pine shoot...



...with a side of yucca.




Bring a canteen. And a camera.




I think so, too.

Citrus Sinensis

The humble orange...



...and it's nutrient collecting ally.

It's been a while since my last post.
Life sometimes works that way... Inspiration is a fickle thing.
Then, one day you open the back door.
Funny, I don't recall hearing a knock...

Clark County, Part Deux

140 nanometres
(click here for further explanation)


Brassica oleracea


Ersatz Vortex


I arrived seven minutes ago.

Hail to the Geese

I innocently drove to the park.
I had no bread.
I ran to the safety of my car for fear of getting billed to death.
They desperately wanted my vote.
Politicians.

2100 Square Feet

A 30' x 70' yard seems pretty small... until you really look at it.


One inch from the earth, two from the driveway.


Window blique.





This fellow landed on my left hand whilst taking
an unrelated photo. Note his cargo.

Merry Christmas

Life is about dreams and choices.
One can choose to realize dreams and make choices or not.
When one learns from these dreams and choices, one can give gifts...


The gift of dreams.



The gift of love.



The gift of the future.



The gift of passion.



The gift of clarity.



The gift of realism and sacrifice. DaNang, Vietnam, 1968.



The gift of Peace.

Dad had dreams. Dad made choices.
And he gave gifts. So many gifts.
I love you, Pop.
Merry Christmas.

Victory

...the bicycle racer must see everything.

Repose. Unposed.

Available light.
Late night television, table lamp and sheet.
The only thing I touched was the shutter release.
Some shapes just work.
Santa Barbara, CA

опьяненный

Inebriated. It was late. It had been a long night of ballet dancing.
The Artistic Director, a Russian, invited us over for dinner and drinks.
At some point a gauntlet was thrown down. Wrong move. Check Mate. Red trousers.
Virtual sousing courtesy of virtual sumi-e. Glendale, CA

Don't look back

January, 2002. 800 miles in 9 hours.
Kin lies dying in a bed behind me.
I'm running.
Dawn breaks at 120mph. Poetry has impeccable timing.
Somewhere outside of Phoenix, AZ

Low Contrast

We wanted to travel somewhere for our Winter holiday.
It was late December and weather would play a role in our choice of destination.
Naturally, we chose to visit the Pacific Northwest.
Cold.
Rain.
Snow.
Rain.
Lovely.



Grotto-esque. Butchart Gardens - Victoria, BC, Canada


I'm just a bill... Victoria, BC, Canada


Port. Above The Strait of Juan de Fuca, BC, Canada/WA


Ice on my feet. Vancouver, BC, Canada


Good aim. Butchart Gardens - Victoria, BC, Canada


Thinking about Dad. Beacon Hill Park - Victoria, BC, Canada




Have Caduceus, Will Travel. Butchart Gardens - Victoria, BC, Canada

Last Dance with C

We'd been dance partners for a while, C and I.
That relationship creates a special bond.
She would be leaving the country soon, but we had one final ballet left to perform.
In the wing, I handed my camera to my friend, Bob, asking him to snap a shot as we waited to take the first step of our last dance.
Then we danced.

Sin City - November, 2006

My mother recently moved to Las Vegas. Although photogenic in many familiar aspects, I would like to show another facet of Sin City.



Double Dapple. Las Vegas, NV


Birth. Las Vegas, NV


Fly. Las Vegas, NV


Pod. Las Vegas, NV


Chicken? Las Vegas, NV

Bend, Oregon - October, 2006

I've always loved the state of Oregon. It's being, it's meaning, what it protects and cherishes.
Recently, Jen had the opportunity to interact with Central Oregon in a special way.
She wanted us to return and experience it at our own pace. We did.


Window on the world. Tumalo, OR


Afternoon sap. Tumalo, OR


Leometopum Occidentale. Tumalo, OR


Us. Crater Lake, OR


Copilot. Somewhere between Weed, CA and Klamath Falls, OR


Home. Tumalo, OR



Murphy strikes again. South of Sacramento, CA

Scotland - September, 2005

Dad was gone. Several months had passed. Mom wanted to take us home.
Somewhere, somehow, a circle was completed.



My first glimpse of Home. Ever.


Anguish. Stirling Castle


Celtic Faith. Stirling Castle


The fair highland city of Inbhir Nis (Inverness)


Lidless Abbey. Holyrood House, Edinburgh


Sarcophagi. Holyrood House, Edinburgh


360 degree panorama. Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh


Glaciated Rock. Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh


To the Northeast. Edinburgh Castle


To the Northwest. Edinburgh Castle


War. Culloden Field.

Backpacking in the Sierra Nevada - July, 2004

The Sierra Nevada mountain range is my neighborhood. The John Muir Wilderness is my backyard. I grew up here.
When I have the chance to visit, it is pure Magic.



We had to hike about 200 feet up to find suitable
facilities. The view was worth it.
Garnet Lake, CA


Near the headwaters of Rush Creek, CA


One of my favourite fishing holes. Clark Lakes, CA


Josh and Katya. Above Agnew Lake, CA


My day started very early because of the bear.
I was mad.
Then, when I looked West, my first thought was to thank the bear.
Garnet Lake, CA

Preparing for my next Kessel Run...

...upgrading my warp drives.