Better Times Had with Craig

Okay, I apologize for the previous carping re: Ultimate. I realize those things are tremendously boring to the non-frisbeers among you, and probably boring even to the discheads. But it really was a rather demeaning event, the kind of thing that keeps you up at night unable to sleep, frustrated at the "why do I bother?" aspect. The Ballad rolls on, though, even if the last verse was self-indulgent and pathetic. This one, involving death, hikes and Craig, will hopefully be more inspiring. Inspiring? Check out Craig in the landscape:

So - Sunday morning we aimed to get out of the apartment at 8 and head down to the Superstition mountains for another grand day of hiking.

So - Sunday morning we left the apartment at 9. So my whole "let's try to leave at 8 (so we'll actually leave at 9)" plan was executed to perfection.

After a quick drop by the grocery store for water and Benadryl - Craig nearly had his nares eaten by the pollen influx we've been experiencing lately - we drove down the 101 to the 60 to the Peralta Road to the Peralta Canyon trailhead. We had to park a little distance from the trailhead thanks to the inability of people to park in an efficient manner - Beck tried to park the Prius in about a 4 foot wide space, but thought better of it once she recalled that traveling at the speed of light only compacts you in the direction traveled (not to mention that "parking" and "traveling at the speed of light" are somewhat incompatible). So we got out of the car, put suntan lotion on everywhere except for the front of Beck's neck, and headed up the trail. And within about five minutes, ran into my personal nightmare.

For obvious survival-based reasons, my elementary school teachers found it necessary to seriously emphasize the fact that there are four species of venomous snakes native to Texas and that all of them, due to their cold, heartless nature, will kill you dead. I think this combined with some kinda crazy narrative about a snake and evil and original sin or something - maybe that was an episode of Diff'r'nt Strokes? - embedded a deep notion within me that snakes are the most terrible thing on the planet and should be avoided with irrational levels of fear and excessive heart palpitations. I heart snakes not at all. With a passion. Do Not Want. I once walked into my room at Rice after Ultiamte practice, exhausted, to see illustrious roommate Jay playing with a little pet garden snake. I took one step in the door, froze, asked "is that snake real?," and upon hearing "yes," immediately left the room*. This is clearly irrational, but I have yet to die from snakebite. So it's silly but effective.

* - This is not the worst "entering my room after Ultimate and having Jay do something evil" story. I walked in junior year after Ultimate practice, completely parched, and asked Jay to pass me some water. He threw me an innocent bottle of Ozarka, which I proceeded to chug. Sweet liquid refreshment? No. It was vodka that Jay had decided to store in an Ozarka bottle for unknown reasons. Vodka is not a thirst quencher. I pretty much went into convulsions right there. Ah, memories.

We were walking up the trail and saw a huge crowd gathering around some trees. They told us there was a rattlesnake sitting there. I was pretty fine with driving for a n hour to take a five minute hike, so I wanted to turn around. But Beck and Craig pressed on. So I ran along the left side of the trail, as far from the evility as possible, and only caught a glimpse of his leathery sinful tail as I scooted by. YEP, that was a rattlesnake. Ay caramba. I give myself an A+ for not passing out at that moment or exploding with anxiety at every little movement on the trail from that point forward. Not fun - but then again, i suppose it's pretty remarkable that we haven't run into any snakes on our hiking trips thus far. And, to its sinister credit, snakey clearly wanted nothing to do with the annoying people taking his picture. So, all told, a survivable experience. Still, I approached the rest of the hike with semi-hidden apprehension.

So we hiked, and quickly found ourselves amongst the Sunday crowds on this highly popular Arizona trail. But Beck knew how to handle this. She BOOKED it up the hill, passing straggling chatters with determination. Craig followed suit, so every time I paused to snap a picture, I found myself alone in the snake-ridden wilderness. AYEE! So I ran to keep up, too. We made it to the top in something like 1:20, and made it back down in about 1:10, with a nice pause at the top. Per usual, talkign about hiking is somewhat silly; I'll post some pics below. But trust that 90% of my time was spent gasping trying to keep up with super-hiker Beck. Seriously, even Craig, who is all European now and used to walking everywhere, noted how fast Beck was trekking. Sweet job Beck!

We spent the rest of the day playing some crappy wind-ridden pickup Ultimate and barbecuing with Dan back at our apartment. Good night, and I got to see Washington Nats third baseman Ryan Dylan hit a walk-off HR. Fantasy season is in full swing, btw, and if you didn't see Fukudome's melodramatic and ultimately pointless HR yesterday, well you missed out.

Anyhoo, good hiking with Craig, and good times in general. He was an excellent house guest, and even managed not to lock Beck out of the apartment, a task at which I failed this morning in my haste to take Craig to the airport. (Sorry Beck - I am super lame). He also brought us scrumptious cheese and chocolates from his new home in the Netherlands. Nice. Anyhoo, here's some pics of the hike; thanks for tuning in as always.