Creek ownership

Some thoughts thereon: https://friendsofcortemaderacreek.org/new_site/the-travails-of-a-creekside-homeowner/.

Amsterdam again

A long break for me, pandemic-enforced, but just got to see Amsterdam again, and all the wonderful people in and around it. A photo collection to commemorate this short but lovely trip.

I ran into a Red Brigade of Extinction Rebellion before I'd even left Schiphol. They were taking part in a multi-airport protest to "krimp de luchtvaart": flying is indeed a disaster for the environment, and despite United's smarmy claims about sustainability, we won't see climate-neutral air traffic before, say, global mean temperature hits 2+. Not the first time I've been confronted with the fact that I'm part of the problem and of the solution both.

The MX3D bridge was installed last July, and while I've viewed the data it generates, I've never seen the bridge in place. What better time than on my first Saturday night in town? The Red Light District is as crowded as ever, and the bridge is bearing the burden without difficulty.

COVID has infected most of my friends in Amsterdam at one point or another, but overwork and stress are more serious diseases, even in the relatively enlightened (thank you unions!) work culture of the Netherlands. To combat that, and to address my jet lag, Michiel, Remco, and I went to the countryside for some sauna time.

My main purpose in traveling to the Netherlands was to attend the annual (in theory) bridge conference, this time held in the bar next to the bridge. Shown above, the day 1 team. Shortly after this we blocked the bridge to do some data collection while it was nice and warm. This puzzled the tourists, irritated the residents, and caused a policeman to give us a stern talking-to.

Lucky timing let me catch an evening auction at De Zwaan, with Babette behind the gavel and AJ behind the screens. Particularly fortuitous: I saw them auction an immaculate piece of advertising enamel for @EUR180.000.

As always, the Netherlands delivers scenes and lighting that speak to the Rembrandt within us all.

Hello Lilian! You want to go hot tubbing on top of a hotel I'm not staying at? Do we have a reservation or even a key to the elevator? No? How is this going to work? And yet it just does.

The bridge has been printed and ready for a couple of years now, so MX3D's robots have moved on to new challenges. Shown here the M1, a complete solution for those wishing to do metal 3D printing at scale.

It would not have occurred to me to go to Amsterdam for ramen, but Kikujiro is working in a new restaurant that not even his family had yet tried. So glad we did: I've never had better.

An Amsterdam newspaper had the brilliant, if warped, idea of photographing the employees of small businesses on a Monday morning. De Zwaan's had their turn. I would love to have some of these on the side of my fridge.

Babette stole Cisca's reading glasses and so did I. In fact, I'm wearing them now while typing. Very Euro I'm sure my Zoom colleagues will note, and quite right, too.

Nina is jarig so of course we had a BBQ at Ons Buiten. Frank is still using the BBQ tools we left him, but has upgraded his BBQwear.

I didn't ask, but I expect some of these people haven't seen each other since the last time we had a BBQ at Ons Buiten.

Mees had the nerve to complain the chips were plain. That did not stop Toon, nor did Daantje.

The birthday girl and there, behind her, helping wash the dishes remotely, is Cisca. Nina spent most of the BBQ trying to convince me to go to Cisca's birthday party, but me, I like to live in the moment.

The RAI, looking quite flash.

I've a million more, but the Internet is only so big, and besides, I went on to Brussels, which deserves a few shots of its own. Enjoy!

Bear Valley

I've been going to Wilbur Hot Springs, a relaxing and gorgeous place, for decades, but only just last year discovered the magnificent Bear Valley a few miles north of the Wilbur turnoff. Lured by the prospect of acres of wildflower blooms and in celebration of Gene's upcoming marriage, I organized a group trip to do the level @20 mile out-and-back gravel road trip ("the plan," below) by bike. This is the story of a plan gone wrong.

Dan and I were the first to arrive, driving his van which he'd reconfigured to transport four of the bikes (and a good thing he'd done that, too <--foreshadowing). Having set up camp, we borrowed some beater bikes to visit the geyser up the Wilbur valley.

We enjoyed an hour or two in the pool next to the geyser, but didn't give much thought to the next day's trip: we were out of cell phone reach and didn't even know for sure who was going to be joining us.

Talia (that's her, below, on our camping platform) and Gene made it up in time for dinner Friday, but the question remained: would we have more riders or only we four on the morn?

The next day we were able to reach our missing riders by landline only to learn that no, they would not be joining us. So we set out, later than we should have, and in the wrong direction.

And that's the part I'm still a little surprised about: the original thought was that we would split into two groups, one doing the out-and-back, and the other a theoretical @35m round trip through the mountains ("the mistake" on the map, above). Somehow, and clearly without enough thought, we opted for the harder--much, much harder--of the two rides, and, compounding our error, set out to do it clockwise on the theory that we should tackle the climbing first and the flats later.

This might have worked out if there were only a single climb rather than what we actually faced: multiple peaks stretched out across many miles and with several thousand feet of elevation between them.

As it was, we were entering some rough land, full of crazy vehicles and expended ammunition, but with not another bicyclist to be seen.

There always seemed to be yet another peak to climb, and even with electric assist it was hard work, especially as--another mistake--at least one of the bikes might not have been fully charged.

The promised valley lay always somehow ahead, visible but distant. With a dawning awareness of just how distant it still was, and recognizing that even once we attained it we'd still have 10 or 15 miles to go to get back to Wilbur, Dan and I made a decision to send the most reliable and strongly powered bike/biker combination to dash back to pick up our van, namely Dan himself on the one bike that didn't have a motor. My hero.

I was left to lead the group, and was reasonably but by no means completely certain that I knew exactly where we were going. Hiding my fears and ignoring the fact that we were running out of water, i urged us on, and eventually we made it to the valley floor, where we rested among the flowers.

Spirits restored, but uncertain as to just when, if ever, Dan would find us, we continued. We were able to replenish our water at a ranch along the way, but our batteries were low and our butts sore.

The specific field that was the original target for "the plan" turned out not to have much by way of flowers, the cows having presumably eaten them all.

But the valley was otherwise full of flowers and, all agreed, well worth the originally planned ride, if not the ride we had actually ended up doing.

Though fully prepared to pedal the rest of the way back, we were unabashedly relieved to spot Dan and the van...

And exhausted, but beautiful, we climbed in for the final @10 miles back to camp.

Join us next year when we return for more flowers and new mistakes.

How to see (me in) The Automat

Coming soon to a theater near you!

IMPORTANT UPDATE: For those in the Bay Area, https://rafaelfilm.cafilm.org/automat/ is your link for tickets to the pre-release screening on 3/26 at 7:00pm in San Rafael! I will be at this showing and will be taking questions from audience members 12 years old and up after the show. Don't miss it!

 The list of theaters showing The Automat is growing. A few highlights:

• Chicago: March 20, 2022 — Chicago Jewish Film Festival
• Philadelphia: Opening March 11, 2022 — Landmark's Ritz Five
• New York City: Opened February 18, 2022 — Film Forum
• New Hampshire: March 31, 2022 — New Hampshire Jewish Film Festival (Manchester, NH)
• Hartford, CT: March 30, 2022 — Hartford Jewish Film Festival
• Olympia, WA: March 28, 2022 — Olympia Film Society
• Toronto: March 16, 2022 — Hot Docs Ted Rogers Cinema  
• Bay Area:
• March 25, 2022 — Sonoma International Film Festival
• Opening April 1, 2022 — Vogue Theater in San Francisco
• Opening April 1, 2022 — Smith San Rafael Film Center

If you've ever wanted to see me, larger than life, on the big screen, now's your chance.

The First Race

Felix, post-race

As a former triple-varsity athlete and life-long sports enthusiast I've waited these past 15 years with bated breath for Felix to get into high school, where serious competition can finally begin. What trophies will he win for us, what medals? How many playoffs will I get to see my son star in? Might he go on to play intercollegiate, or even earn a full ride based on his physical prowess, just as I did? Nothing could make me more proud than to raise the next in a long line of champions.

Not a word of the previous paragraph is true, of course: I didn't play sports in high school other than the requisite time in gym class, and I gave up my single foray into college athletics shortly after discovering that sculling gives you blisters. I don't watch sports on TV and have been a reluctant spectator for the handful of live games I've seen my kids play in. Indeed, the desire to avoid long hours watching boring contests was the primary reason I've encouraged Felix to take up mountain biking: if he's in the mountains, what's there to watch?

Turns out, a lot.

Waiting for the race to begin

We're just back from the season's first NorCal MTB race event. Rather than driving to a field somewhere in Marin, sitting in a not uncomfortable camp chair, and then driving home, neither knowing nor caring who won, I just drove 3 hours each way to stand next to a dusty track for a glimpse of Felix...

First lap...

... and then, another thirty minutes later, to see him powering past his nearest competitors in a thrilling end to his first race...

You may not be surprised, but I certainly was, to find myself brimming with overwhelming pride. My boy, what a champ!

The rest of the experience was wonderful too, camping next to the beautiful (if drought-striken) Lake McClure...

 Volunteering as part of the crew feeding the team and launching the racers.

The golden child in base camp

And did I mention the endless almond orchards in bloom on the way there and back?

If this is high school sports, I'm a fan.