WARM AND FUZZY RECOLLECTIONS OF ALCATRAZ

The 16th Alcatraz Invitational Swim, that is.

Alcatraz means "pelican" in archaic Spanish. Did you know that? 

 The Alcatraz swim is nearly impossible. Look at all that can go wrong. Maybe you would find it difficult jumping off the boat into the arctic water. Or perhaps the currents of certain death intimidate you. What about the sea monsters? Massive kraken, I tell you! Ghosts of incarcerated gangsters, too. Probably some ordnance out there. Underwater mines and the like. You're practically begging to be exploded! I do not know how we all survived. Ahem.






If you want to swim Alcatraz it helps to have a neoprene ensemble. It is also useful to have at your disposal a trusty Dingo to evaluate and critique.




















You might be lucky enough to have a pool to do an equipment check. OK, yes, that's ridiculous, and I do apologize that you had to see that.

















When you go to San Francisco one of the things you can do is consult some enthusiastic bicycle rental people for a ride over the GGB (Golden Gate Bridge, you know).

There are probably a lot of people who have these exact pictures (just with different riding companions, duh) on their memory cards. And why not? There are great scenes to be snapped.



























Sunny Sausalito.
















A stand of redwoods.


















In this picture, someone got to inspecting the camera and it kind of accidentally went off. Much like the Scout self-incrimination tale of yore! (Yore in this case being the last entry of this ridiculous bloggage. Why anyone would still be reading this is a mystery to me. But the Scout story is pretty funny. Your Humble Bloggist laughs every time he reads it. I find myself very amusing. The Official Offspring of the blog have had to live with two parents who like to chuckle and guffaw at their own material. Sorry, kids...)


















This is in the lobby of a swank hotel where you can have a post-ride taste of wine and catch up with old friends whom you have met on an island nation. Or you maybe knew this one guy because you were best friends with his cousin in childhood, which is kind of a weird coincidence.


Why not go for a small swim in the bay? Did I mention that the water is not warm? You just had a glass of wine for courage, though. There is the just-dive-in-and-get-it-over-with method.














Then there are other methods.















Waterproof cameras are fun!

Spectators, whatever you are thinking regarding the sanity of choosing this frigid post-wine-tasting activity, I'm sure you are right.













San Francisco at night? Pretty photogenic.










Next, there is the day when you get to jump off a boat into the bay right by the decrepit prison on the island. It is a fascinating eyesore, that prison.


















The swim booties club is a small but intelligent subset of Alcatraz swimmers. By the way, can JB rock a wetsuit or what?

Alcatraz swim team, all for one!

Some of you may not recognize the second swimmer from the left. She has a very well-repaired wetsuit and many tales of providing Ironman medical tent resuscitation. And a smidgen of disdain for those athletes who like to brag about how many liters of intravenous fluid were required for their post-race survival. (To which I say: "Word!!") There was unanimous agreement that we need to have more events including this person.








Goofing around on the boat. Pretty fun.






Neoprene swim caps, especially of the Orca variety, are awesome.








So, yes, about the ear plugs...keeps out the cold water AND prevents you from having the impacted whale cerumen (ear wax) problem. I'll explain that later if I ever decide to finish writing this post. You are probably asking yourself why anyone would bother to finish writing this post. I can't come up with a good justification, honestly.























Calm waters awaited us that day. Thus, good pictures of heads bobbing in the bay.









Hooray for the swimmers!

Hooray for Irish coffees!


























The Official New Camera of the Blog has a setting where the picture takes as soon as it detects someone smiling. So that explains the outbreak of people saying "cheese" on the streetcar.

Some people have incredible homes in the city. And incredible hearts to invite a motley crew of strangers to their incredible homes.


























We should all probably grow up a little. 





















































If you want to go whale watching the next day, you have to wake up early.


For me that was a bummer because I was enjoying the  bliss of a sleep-of-the-dead in a penthouse suite at the Travelodge, which has been called a Tenderloin flophouse by some. While I would not necessarily disagree with that assessment, the top floor is paradise compared to being housed under some drunk 3 AM people dropping their beer bottles on the floor. That is another story, though.

Nice day, nice whales. Humpbacks. Cute birds, too. I'm really glad I know someone with a huge lens.

Rocky, smelly islands. Bird stuff, you know.

The peaceful rocking of the boat putting shipmates gently to sleep.

So on the whale earwax, that is one way to tell how old a whale is. Of course you have to wait until it washes up dead. Which is a little sad, so I'll move on.

Here is the view from the Cliff House.

This gentleman knows how to choose attire. Many is the guy, I suspect, who has been poked in the ribs by his companion and urged to "take notes!" when this sharp-dressed man goes by.

These two are a DC power couple. I'm pretty sure I only know their code names. Clearly one of them has been building her cover for like 35 years. You get snippets of info, like they are the ones who have developed the (begin Dr. Evil Air Quotes) LASER (close DEAQ) . I think I got that right. Doomsday (DEAQ) LASER (/DEAQ) development.

So in closing, whale spouts, ear plugs, automatic smiley photos, well-executed wetsuit repair, incredible barbecue hosts, swim booties, Ironman IV fluid bravado, redwoods, Dr. Evil. Any more tags? Oh, yeah. Great friends. Yeah baby.

Thanks to Lisa and her enormous lens for the wildlife pictures, and to Åsa for the picture of Lisa and her medium-sized lens.

SCOUT THE DESTROYER: A TALE OF CANINE SELF-INCRIMINATION

or

HOW A MISCHIEVOUS PUPPY GOT CAUGHT RED-PAWED

Once there was an adorable blond puppy named Scout.




She was named after a little girl in a book called To Kill A Mockingbird.

Scout lived with a family in a house by a pool under a very tall walnut tree. 


The walnut tree was very beautiful and old, but every September when the walnuts began to fall, hundreds of them would fall into the pool and make a mess. The family loved the walnut tree anyway. Scout also loved the walnut tree because there were lots of squirrels that ran around in the tree. The squirrels would eat the walnuts and drop the pieces on the ground. Scout thought pieces of walnut shells were fun to play with.


There were four other girl dogs in her pack. One was Roxi, who was very spoiled.




The Dingo was the auntie. She was old and liked to sit in the laundry hamper. Nobody could figure out how Auntie Dingo had tons of energy even though she was old.



Champ was a black dog. She was named after a beautiful Brittany spaniel who lived 30 years ago in the far away part of the world known as Maine. Champ loved to run with humans and her packmates.



Kona was the other girl dog who lived in the house by the pool. She was one of the laziest dogs on earth. Except when the family was playing fetch with The Dingo. Kona loved when The Dingo was playing fetch with the people. But Kona never wanted to chase the ball. She only wanted to chase the dogs who were chasing the ball.



Scout also had a cousin named Lizzie. Lizzie lived in a far away land.


In Scout's animal family, there was a chicken named Pippa who lived in a poolside coop.



Scout liked to roam around the neighborhood. There was a fence that she was supposed to stay behind, but she could fit through the fence if she wiggled her shoulders and hips just right. It was like a magic trick!





Scout did not think that parts of her house were fine the way they were. She thought they would look better if they had teeth marks in them. Teeth marks of love.

On the frame of the door.



In the bamboo floor.

The couch! That couch's stuffing was inside it! Whose idea was it to have the stuffing INSIDE of the couch? Scout knew how to take care of that!


She did not like human eyewear the way it was made. Those swim goggles were too clear.



There were some reading glasses on the table. They needed to have the ear and nose pieces chewed off.




One day Scout found a shiny green box.

The green box fit perfectly in her mouth and all those buttons felt really good to chew on. There was even a rubbery cover on the buttons. The rubbery cover was put on the box so that water would not hurt the parts inside. The green box was called a camera.

Scout took the camera to her resting crate and began playing with it. There was an on/off switch and when she bit on that, a little motor in the camera made a very nice noise. There was also something called a shutter button. When she bit on that, there was a very bright light that came on just for an instant!


There was also another motor noise!


This was very exciting!


She took picture after picture of herself making the green camera better by chewing off the rubber covers and breaking the little glass screen!


The best picture was when the camera was on the floor pointing up at her ears and the ceiling.




One day the humans found the green camera that Scout had played with that day. They decided that they needed to get a new camera. The new one was a better camera anyway.

They all lived happily ever after.